The Three Lands Omnibus Part 40

This much I saw before I dropped my gaze hastily. I followed Henry into the chamber. Its southern window was shuttered for the night, and the serving ledge where Henry placed the gold tray was shadow-dark in the candle-lit room. I took the water pitcher that Henry handed me, and then went over to stand at my place, on the side of the table to the right of Lord Carle. Only then did I see who the council lord's other two guests were: an elderly, hawk-eyed man whose glance darted around the table, and the Chara Nicholas.

The table was empty but for its candles, its fine embroidered covering, and a bowl of nuts that the elderly lord pa.s.sed toward Lord Carle as he asked, "How are the negotiations going with the Daxion Amba.s.sador, Nicholas?"

The Chara Nicholas waited a moment while Henry placed wine cups and water cups on the table. Unlike his son, he had not changed since I saw him last: he still had the carefully controlled movements of a man who is restraining abundant energy. Now he smiled and said in an easy manner, "Dean, whenever you ask me a question like that, I'm certain that you're trying to dig up information to use at your next council meeting."

"The laws forbid that I should!" exclaimed Lord Dean. "Believe me, I trust that you'll send us the appropriate reports in due time. I merely thought that you looked a bit tired."

"Some time within the next five years I hope to have a full night's rest," responded the Chara Nicholas. "But yes, the Amba.s.sador has proved difficult to work with. He appears to know little about Emor and seems to think that our courts work in the same manner as those in his land, so that I've found myself having to describe to him the entire law-structure in the s.p.a.ce of two days. I wish dearly that King Leofwin would have thought to send an amba.s.sador who could deal with the subtleties of our negotiations rather than bog down in elementary facts." As he paused again to allow Henry to fill his cup with wine, I caught the quick nod of Henry's head toward me and stepped forward to fill Lord Dean's water cup.

"At least he was not caught stealing candlesticks from the Council Chamber, like that Koretian Amba.s.sador in the time of the Chara Duncan." I saw Lord Carle's eyes rest on me briefly as I came clockwise round the table to fill his cup; then he took no more notice of me.

"Heart of Mercy," said Lord Dean. "I hope that the man was sentenced severely."

"That amba.s.sador was not brought to trial at all," said the Chara Nicholas, moving his water cup to the right so that I could fill it without coming near to him. "Carle can undoubtedly tell you the details. I often think that he knows the law books better than I do and that he is studying to be my successor."

"I would not want to usurp the t.i.tle from your son, Chara, since I hear that he is making fine progress with his studies," said Lord Carle. His eye was on the Chara's son, who was murmuring his thanks to me as I poured water into his cup. "In fact, I would be interested in discovering what he has learned on the subject of amba.s.sadors."

"Peter?" The Chara's son, Peter, jerked his head around at his father's word, as though his thoughts had been elsewhere. The Chara Nicholas said, "What can you tell Lord Carle about amba.s.sadors?"

I moved back from the table and stood where I had before, a body's length behind the Chara's son. Peter looked toward Lord Carle and said, in a manner in no way stilted, but rather as though he was speaking on a subject he knew well, "Amba.s.sadors mediate negotiations between the rulers of two sovereign lands, usually in a time of grave crisis, either in wartime or peacetime."

"And some examples?" prompted his father.

"The Daxion Amba.s.sador has been sent here for a peacetime crisis: the floods that are affecting both northern Daxis and the southwestern edge of Emor. A wartime example is that of Koretia. Fifteen years ago, that land sent an Amba.s.sador to Emor in response to the Chara's distress over the fact that Koretia's civil war was beginning to spill over into the Emorian borderland villages-"

"We all know how the Border Wars began, I hope," said Lord Dean.

"My son was not born till the following year, Dean; this is ancient history to him," said the Chara Nicholas. "Go on, Peter."

"Koretia sent the Amba.s.sador under a peace oath requiring that both our lands keep soldiers out of the black border mountains. But while the Amba.s.sador was negotiating, Koretia took advantage of our laxness and destroyed our borderland villages. It appeared that the Amba.s.sador had not been informed of his King's treacherous plans, so he was allowed by the Chara to return home."

"And was unfortunately executed by his own people for the failed negotiations, so my mercy was to no purpose," said the Chara Nicholas. "What else does the law say about amba.s.sadors, Peter?"

"During his visits, the Amba.s.sador is made a palace guest and is placed under the care of the Chara." Peter seemed quite composed in voice, but from where I stood, I could see that he was fingering his coa.r.s.ely-woven tunic with nervous energy. "He negotiates only with the Chara, though the Chara consults with the council in matters that are under its province. If he commits a crime-"

"Ah!" said Lord Dean, draining his water. "I was wondering when my question would be answered a or indeed if it would be answered at all."

I stepped forward with the water pitcher and therefore caught the tail end of Peter's gaze as it swept over to Lord Dean. "I am sorry, Lord Dean. It is hard for me to remember the laws out of the order I learned them. If the Amba.s.sador commits a crime, he is normally immune to the law and cannot be summoned to the court a that was the case with the Koretian Amba.s.sador in my great-grandfather's time. If, however, the Amba.s.sador's own people ask Emor to make judgment on the matter, he is tried in the Chara's court. The Amba.s.sador can be tried for any crime except ..." He hesitated.

"Disobedience to the Chara," said his father, peering at him over the rim of his wine cup.

"Disobedience to the Chara," repeated Peter. "This is because his loyalty is to his own ruler, and it cannot be considered a crime under the law for a man in a different land to have different loyalties." He stopped fingering the brown tunic, and as he reached out from under the table to grasp his water, his hand was as steady as ice.

"Reciting a pa.s.sage from a book is not the same as being the Chara, of course," said Lord Dean, "but I, for one, am impressed."

I saw Peter suddenly grip the cup stem tightly, but he merely said in a low voice, "Thank you, Lord Dean."

"In actual fact," Lord Carle said dryly, "that was five pa.s.sages from five different law books, so I am even more impressed. You forgot the law, though, concerning ceremonial dress."

Peter's hand disappeared under the table, and I saw him grip the tunic once more. He said calmly, "I apologize. Amba.s.sadors are expected to dress formally for ceremonies, but according to the customs of their own land. In particular, they are not required to wear a free-man's weapon. -May I ask a question, Chara?"

"Call me Father; we are amongst friends. What is it that you wish to know?"

"The Enkloo Amba.s.sador who came here several years ago wore a sword, but swords are not the weapon of warfare in that land. Why did he dress according to Emorian custom, then?"

"Because he was a good amba.s.sador," said the Chara Nicholas. He put his wine cup to one side, and Henry came forward to fill it. "It's always wise for a mediator to adopt the customs of the land he is visiting, whether he abides by them at home or not. But it isn't wise for Emor to insist that amba.s.sadors do so. Every land has its own customs and even its own laws. That's why I haven't imposed on the dominions more Emorian customs than are necessary. We cannot, for example, make a Koretian into an Emorian."

I was standing behind the Chara's son, about to refill his water cup. I saw Lord Carle look my way before saying, "I might dispute the Chara for saying that Koretia has its own laws. But it is true that it is exceedingly difficult to make the dominions behave in a civilized fashion. Take these recent problems in Arpesh."

"Ah," said Lord Dean. "I was hoping that this subject would arise. The council has been most disturbed by its lack of information on the matter, Nicholas. Since the dominion is under the council's care, w'd like to know why we have received no reports on the army divisions you have recently sent to that land."

The Chara Nicholas held Lord Dean's eyes for a moment before saying in a tranquil voice, "You have received no reports yet, High Lord, because it is my privilege to decide the appropriate time for you to receive such reports. The army is under the Chara's care a as you know. It appears, however, that your clerk doesn't realize this, as he has been sending out orders in contradiction to my own. I would appreciate it ..." His voice lingered on this phrase for a moment. "... if you would inform him of his proper duties in this matter."

"Certainly, Chara," said Lord Dean, making a hasty retreat from his attack. "I've spoken to the man before, but you know how hard it is to discipline clerks. They seem to feel that they alone issue the commands."

"Discipline is always a difficult task," said the Chara Nicholas, his voice sounding darker, "but it must be undertaken. And please do not send your clerk to me for his punishment as you did in the last case of this kind. The council should take care of its own."

Lord Dean reached for the nut bowl but did not take anything from it, as though he were merely trying to occupy his hands. "No, of course not," he said. "I wouldn't wish to bother you more than I already have in the past." He gave a short laugh and added, "Perhaps I should send the clerk to your son the next time he tries on your pendant, in order to give him practice for the future."

There was a long silence, and I saw out of the corner of my eye that Peter had turned his head toward Lord Dean. The boy's face was bloodless. Then, as though compelled unwillingly by an invisible hand, the Chara's son turned to look at his father.

The Chara Nicholas had changed expression as well: the lines of his face had solidified, as though his soft flesh had hardened into granite. But if his face was stone, his eyes by contrast were a wounded crack in that stone. He said in a quiet, detached voice, "Did you wear my pendant, Peter?"

The ball in Peter's throat bobbed. He whispered, "Yes, Father."

Lord Dean said hastily, "It was many years ago, I believe, when he was playing as a little lad."

The Chara Nicholas said slowly, "Peter has known since he was a babe in arms that not even the Chara To Be may touch the Pendant of Judgment."

Peter continued to stare at his father, as though his eyes were trapped. Lord Dean was now taking a great interest in the design of the nut bowl, while Lord Carle stared down at his half-full wine cup as he cradled it in his hand. Even Henry stood rigid, his gaze straight ahead. The Chara's voice, when it came again, was low and heavy. "Lord Peter, let me be clear. If you touch the Pendant of Judgment again while I am alive, I will have you summoned to my court on the charge of disobeying the Chara. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Chara." Peter's voice was still faint, but there was a firmness to his reply that matched his father's words.

"Good. Then we will say no more on the matter." The Chara Nicholas's face relaxed and he looked away, pushing his cup to the side. Henry walked forward to fill it.

"It was thoughtless of me to have raised the subject," said Lord Dean, smiling at Peter. The Chara's son was fiddling with the stem of his water cup and did not look up.

"*Thoughtless' is perhaps not the word I would have used," said Lord Carle, staring hard at his fellow council lord. "We seem to have strayed successfully from the embarra.s.sing topic of the council clerk."

"Did you wish to add something on that subject, Carle?" asked the Chara Nicholas.

"Not on that subject, no, Chara. But on the subject of discipline in general I may say that one of the things that has impressed me over the years about your court cases is the way in which you take the prisoner's entire nature into account when handing down judgment. You have often shown discernment in judging your prisoner, not simply by his crime, which may have been done as a result of youth or lack of experience, but by the whole of his character."

Peter's eyes rose slowly toward Lord Carle, and for a moment the council lord looked back at him with a discreetly neutral expression. Then Lord Carle broke the eye-link, leaning forward to take the nut bowl.

"Thank you for those words of wisdom, Carle," said the Chara Nicholas quietly. "Discipline is indeed a subject on which you have much knowledge to impart."

He glanced over toward his son, but Peter had seemingly already guessed his father's wishes, for he was asking, "May I visit you some time, Lord Carle, and ask you questions on that matter?"

Lord Carle bowed his head. "I would be honored. Is there any matter in particular that interests you?"

"Perhaps the subject of the Chara's relationship with his servants would be a good topic," suggested the Chara Nicholas, with a slight quirk to his mouth.

Peter apparently did not notice his father's expression, for he said somberly to Lord Carle, "My father means that he discovered me playing tag with some of the slave-boys who were cleaning the Court of Judgment."

Lord Dean quickly put his hand over his mouth. Even Lord Carle seemed to have trouble controlling his expression. But his voice was serious as he said to Peter, "You lead a hard life, I am sure, studying to become Chara. But good customs learned now will make your work easier for you when you grow older."

"Some things," said the Chara Nicholas, "are never easy to do."

At his soft words, the others turned to look at him, as though awaiting a proclamation. The Chara Nicholas paused a moment, as though trying to formulate the exact phrases required by law, and then said, "One of the terrible burdens I must pa.s.s on to my son is the knowledge that the Chara has no equals. The gap between the Chara and his free-servant and slave-servants is too great to be bridged; even the gap between the Chara and his council lords is too wide most of the time. I have been lucky to have had the friendship of you two, but many other lords have sought my friendship over the years and have failed, not through any lack of effort on my part, but because they could not realize that, when I become a friend, I do not cease to be master. I cannot show favor to any man, nor can I cease to be the Chara to any of my subjects. But few men can face the knowledge that their friend has the ability, and may have the duty, to condemn them in the Court of Judgment. I do not blame the lords who found it hard to live with this fact. Of all the sacrifices I have had to make for the sake of my throne, this one is the hardest."

The Chara Nicholas had his eyes dipped ever so slightly so that he was looking at the table. His listeners were silent: Henry, at the other side of the room pouring more wine into his pitcher; Lord Carle, his hand touching his empty water cup; Lord Dean, looking as though he were memorizing the words; and Peter, leaning forward to see better the face of his father. Then Peter reached out and offered the nut bowl to his father. The eyes of the Chara met briefly the eyes of the Chara To Be, and the tension was broken.

Lord Carle said, "What you say is true not only of the Chara, but of masters in general. Among the higher ranks, of course, friendship may flourish, but I think that it is a mistake for a master to become too intimate with his servants. That sort of situation leads only to ill conduct on the part of the servants."

"n.o.body could accuse you of having poorly trained servants, Carle," said Lord Dean.

"Thank you, High Lord. I do my best, and I think that the results are satisfying, not only to myself, but also to my free-servant and slaves. Servants do not really wish to be pampered and allowed to do bad work a they thrive on discipline and labor. The results are manifold: cheerful servants, well-run quarters, and the knowledge that my life is as orderly and systematic as the Chara's own-" He stopped suddenly, alerted by the expression of Peter, who was biting his lip in an attempt to contain laughter.

I stepped back from Lord Carle with the water pitcher in hand. Lord Carle stared at the table for a moment. Then, without looking my way, he beckoned to his free-servant and said quietly, "Henry, you have done an excellent job in serving us tonight; I am grateful. Nevertheless, I do not think that I need any water in my small cup, especially as it was already half-filled with wine."

"I will get you another cup, Lord Carle," murmured Henry, reaching forward.

I did not need to see Henry's quick look of instruction to know I must leave. As I neared the door, Lord Carle's voice, very soft, drifted back toward me: "Oh, and I would like to see you in my study chamber later this evening, Andrew."

I hesitated and looked back. Lord Carle had not bothered to turn his head to address me, but beyond him were the eyes of the Chara's son, watching me with sympathy.

CHAPTER FIVE.

"Well?" said Lord Carle.

He was standing with me in his study chamber, his arms folded and his brows drawn low. The furiously burning fire beside him had turned his face even redder than usual, and I could see sweat on his forehead.

I kept my gaze carefully pointed at the wall behind him. "I am sorry for the mistake I made this evening, Lord Carle."

"Mistake." Lord Carle spat out the word as though it were the bitter portion of a fruit. He put a hand out to lean on the table nearby and said in a caustic voice, "If that had been a true apology, I would have considered it a miracle greater than the Emorian victory at Mountain Heights, since you have never once apologized to me for any of your defiances for the past three years. But even the Chara's son, who does not know your Koretian talent for deception, could see that your actions tonight were no mistake. On the contrary, you were quite successful in your goal of shaming me in front of my guests."

He reached over suddenly and took a dry log from the wood pile, then thrust it into the fire, so that the flames blazed up in fury. Turning back to me, he said in that quiet voice I had grown to fear, "Lord Diggory's slave Patrick came by my quarters after dinner tonight to deliver a message from his master. He stayed to deliver his own message, which was that you were planning to kill the Chara."

The red-golden flames reached upward, tearing at the air in a futile attempt to escape the chamber. The room was hotter than before, but I felt as though I had just been ducked under ice-cold water. I did not move.

"I think he hoped that I would pa.s.s on a good word to his master about him," Lord Carle continued. "I was obliged to explain to him that I had no good words to say about anyone who would betray a confidence. He was also disappointed to learn that I was fully informed of your ambition, since you had revealed it to me yourself. I must say I was gratified to learn that I have a servant who is so single-minded in his designs. But perhaps it will give you greater incentive to put your thoughts to your service duties if I tell you that you will not be in any condition to try your a.s.sa.s.sination attempt if you do not learn to behave. As you know, in most cases I do not find that it is necessary to resort to physical discipline, but you have sorely tried my patience."

He turned then, as though he had finished speaking to me, and strode over to the leather-bound books that lined the whole of one wall. He stared at them for a moment, as though reaching into them for inspiration. When he turned and spoke to me again, it was in a voice so soft that I could not tell whether he was being very gentle or very vicious.

"Henry tells me that you are the hardest-working and most meticulous slave he has ever supervised in his years with me," said Lord Carle. "This matches my own impression of your work. I also know that you are discreet and keep your observations to yourself, a quality that is hard to find in slaves. For this reason, I have discussed with Henry the possibility of sending you to work in my country home, which is lightly manned, as I have no family and rarely visit the house. Since few servants work there, you would be given greater independence in carrying out your duties."

He paused. He was just out of reach of my gaze, and so my eyes wandered toward him in an effort to see his face. Then I caught myself and stared intently at the wall once more.

"Tonight's episode," said Lord Carle, his voice rising, "confirms the conclusion I had already reached, which is that you are ill-suited for independent duties. To be allowed independence, a servant must have respect for his master, and you have no respect for your superiors at all. Indeed, so deep is your insolence that I am beginning to wonder whether you even respected your Koretian superiors before coming here. So, much as I would like to banish your troublesome presence and rid myself of the Koretian blood-fly I was foolish enough to take into my care, it is my duty to keep you here at the palace. It is my obligation, as your master, to teach you your own duty, which is to behave in a civilized Emorian manner. I have told you before: If you want to plot in your mind the murder of the Chara or the watering of my wine, I will not interfere with that. But while you are under my care, you will keep those schemes deep inside you and never allow them to be witnessed by me or anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord Carle." My reply did not come out with cutting defiance as it usually did, but dully, as though the blade of my voice had been blunted by a heavy stone.

"If you understand, then by all the laws of the Chara, you will-"

He stopped abruptly at the sound of a knock. The door opened a crack, and I saw the Chara's son peering in.

"Welcome, Lord Peter," said Lord Carle, his voice instantly mild. "May I help you with something?"

I was still gazing rigidly at the wall, but I could see Peter looking between me and the council lord. "I did not mean to disturb you, Lord Carle. I can come at another time."

"I am your father's servant and will one day be yours; I always have time to speak with the Chara's son." Lord Carle glanced at me. "We will finish this conversation later, Andrew. Return to your quarters now."

I gave him the bow my duty required, and then turned to leave the room. My eyes were lowered, so I could not see the Chara's son, but I felt him brush by me as we pa.s.sed in the doorway.

As the door closed, I stopped and let my gaze rise again. As a senior council lord, Lord Carle had several chambers in his quarters, all connected by the pa.s.sageway in which I stood. To the right of me, the dark pa.s.sage led north and then east to the palace corridor door, but I my gaze strayed toward the other end of the pa.s.sage, to a window hidden in half-shadows from the pa.s.sage lamplight. I walked forward until I was standing in front of the window; then I pulled back the shutters.

A frosty breeze swirled in. This night was midwinter's eve, though the weather had been so mild this year that the first snowfall had not yet arrived. The moon lay below the edge of the world, and the city beneath was as dark as though the night sky had fallen atop it like a blanket. Its stars were the torches that still burned through the night, most of them coming from the soldiers who were patrolling the streets. A subtle scent wafted in on the breeze: the smell of the grape vines clutching the palace walls for warmth. These were the same grapes that were harvested to make the Emorian wine I had watered that night.

I leaned against the stone pa.s.sage wall, hugging my arms to my chest in order to protect myself against the cold. My eyes were not on the city below, nor on the countryside beyond, but on the border mountains, black against the black sky, still free of the snow that would block its pa.s.ses in a short time. Somewhere over those mountains was the Jackal ... but despite my words to Patrick, it had been many months since I had ended my futile prayers to the G.o.d.

I do not know whether minutes pa.s.sed or hours. But presently, standing with my shoulder against the chilly stones, I felt a presence, as though a warm breeze had made its way over the mountains from Koretia. I turned my head and saw the Chara's son.

He was watching me. As I sighted him he took a step backwards, as though he had wandered into the midst of a secret and sacred ceremony. Then, when I did not speak, he said, "I didn't mean to disturb you. I was wondering what you were looking at, and couldn't see without coming near you, because the window is so small."

His voice was as quiet as moonlight, and his look was so respectful that I forgot to whom I was speaking and said, "All of the windows here are small."

He came forward then and stood beside me, looking out at the mountains. I moved as far as possible to the right to make way for him.

He asked, "Are the windows larger in Koretia?"

"They are much larger," I said, still caught in the spell of his quietness. "Koretians sit in their windows and look at the view outside. I suppose that the windows have to be larger because of the heat."

His eyes still fixed on the mountains, Peter stepped forward and leaned his elbows on the windowsill, and then placed his chin atop his clasped hands. "I've only been to Koretia once. My father thinks it's too dangerous for me to visit there again. Some of the council lords have taken me with them on visits to Marcadia and Arpesh. But one day, when I become Chara, I'll have to stay in the palace all of the time unless war occurs. I'll never be able to leave here, and that makes this place seem like a prison to me sometimes."

Something about the pain in his voice drew me closer, until I found I was standing next to him at the window, my arm brushing his. "But you'll be the Chara, and even if you can't leave here, you'll be able to do whatever you like."

"Will I? My father can't do as he likes. He says that he wishes to spend time with me, but most days he's in the Court of Judgment or the Map Room or the Council Chamber. From dawn until bed he is kept busy upholding the laws of Emor, and he can't do anything that would interfere with his duties."

I was silent for a moment, struggling to hold back the disrespectful words that were welling up in me, but I lost the battle. "I was watching you this evening, and you reminded me of a Koretian slave."

The Chara's son looked over at me. His face displayed only curiosity. "I thought you didn't have slaves in Koretia."

"We did in the days before the Chara took control. An old Koretian story says that the masters could see when their slaves were angry and hurt, and this enraged the masters, who punished the slaves repeatedly as a result. Finally the slaves begged to be allowed to wear masks so that their true thoughts would remain hidden from their masters. I don't know whether this story is true, but the slaves in Koretia certainly wore masks a and that's why you reminded me of them, because it seemed to me as though you were wearing a mask tonight, showing everyone only what you wanted them to see."

I was breathless by the end of my bold speech, dizzy from lack of air or lack of fear. Peter put his chin back down on his knuckles and said, "That's what it felt like just now, listening to Lord Carle explain to me the proper way in which to manage servants. I've no doubt that he told me much that will be useful to me when I come to power. But something about the way he spoke of his slaves angered me so much that all I could think was that I mustn't let him know what I was truly thinking. And so I kept nodding as though I agreed, and I think he was pleased with our talk."

"That's the best way to deal with Lord Carle," I said, as though the Chara's son were a fellow slave who needed my advice.