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She sat back and surveyed them again. "Of course,"
she added, "that would be the legitimate cover. No one could object to that. I gained promises from the western countries that they would protect us if need be, but we cannot expect them to do that if we are unwilling to protect ourselves. As I said, that would be the ostensi- ble reason for a militia, but the real danger comes from Umbria and we shall have to build an effective army to counter that."
"And while we are at it," Rully chimed in unexpect- edly, "we ought to consider arming our merchant fleet.
All the Umbrian fortifications face north."
Olivderval flashed him a look of grat.i.tude. "Our ex- cuse could be an increase in piracy, preferable from the sh.o.r.es of the Magical Kingdoms," she said approv- ingly.
"I don't know about this," Manyas said nervously.
"This is a major undertaking, an expensive undertak- ing, and there is no profit in it."
"Think of it as insurance against ruin," Leonida said crisply. "Any estimates of the costs, Olivderval?"
The Oligarch referred to the papers in front of her.
"A start-up cost of three hundred thousand ecrus for the training and equipping of a force of fifty thousand men."
"Fifty thousand men! That's insane." The agitated objection came from Festin Manyas.
"And that does not include monies for the develop- ment of cannon," Olivderval pressed on relentlessly.
"We have acquired, by the way, the secret of the man- ufacture of cannon and I do not doubt that Isphardi ingenuity can improve upon the original."
Hubbub ensued.
Ch3ipt6R 23
-^ arrod was relaxing in his main room and was feel- ing satisfied. Nastrus had just returned to Stronta and had reported that the Giants' Causeway had been cleared away as far as the Songean border, a prodigious amount of work for both Magicians and cloudsteeds.
The unicorn had been tired and proud and he had cer- tainly earned the right to feel that way. There was no more work to be done on the project, for this year at any rate. The weather would begin to close in by the end of the month, the more so in Songuard where it was uncontrolled. Indeed, there were reports of fresh snow on the mountain peaks. Nastrus would be return- ing to the Island at the Center soon for his annual visit and Jarrod knew that he would have to come up with a convincing reason to tempt him back. It was impor- tant that the Empire see the benefit of the enterprise, that the Discipline be seen to be helpful to them.
He stretched his slippered feet toward the fire and was contemplating a nap when there was a rapping at the door. He swiveled and saw the Duty Boy's head.
He gestured and the boy slipped into the room.
"Sorry to disturb you. Excellence, but there's a bun- glebird message that just came in."
Jarrod beckoned and the boy came over quickly and handed him a tiny roll of paper. Jarrod smoothed it out and leaned it into the light so that he could decipher the writing. "Child expected in a sennight. Come if 261.
you've a mind to." It was unsigned. His heart gave a little lurch and his brain began to calculate. It would have taken the bird at least four days to fly here from Gwyndryth. That meant that it was due any day. The baby could already have been bom. A trip through In- terim was the only way to get there in anything like time.
"Any return message, sir?" the boy asked.
"Oh, er, no. It wouldn't do any good. I'd be obliged, though, if you would pack me some clean linen, hose, a couple of robes and my washing things. Use the sad- dlebags. Fetch me my shoes first. I've got to see the Mage."
Five minutes later,he was being ushered into Grey- lock's bedchamber. The Mage was sitting at his desk working at some papers.
"Sit yourself by the fire, Jarrod, I'll be with you di- rectly," he said without looking up. "There's some mulled ale in the hearth, help yourself."
Jarrod sat and watched the fire, wanning his hands on the mug and taking small sips. He was excited and the hot liquid seemed to steady him. He heard sand being sprinkled on paper and sat up. Moments later the old Mage joined him, ladled out some ale and sat down opposite-
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I just got a message from Marianna," Jarrod re- plied. "The baby's due and I would like to be there."
He smiled sheeplishty. "It's my first, and possibly my last, child."
Greylock's lips tightened; not the reaction that Jar- rod had expected. "Deuced awkward," he said.
Jarrod waited.
Greylock sighed and then looked up at his protege.
"The fact is," he said, "I'm planning to go to Celador."
"I realize that you would rather we weren't both away
262 at the same time, but Thorden and Tokamo are quite capable of keeping things running. They've done it be- fore." Jarrod recognized the defensive note in his voice.
Surely Greylock couldn't deny him this?
"Yes I know," Greylock said on cue, "but the reason I'm going to Celador is that the Archmage is ill."
"I hadn't heard," Jarrod said soberly.
"n.o.body's heard. He sent me a private message, oblique as usual, but I have a feeling that he wants to settle the succession."
"But there's no question of that, surely? Everybody knows that you are going to be the next Archmage,"
Jarrod objected.
"Nevertheless, it's always wiser to be at the scene,"
Greylock said darkly.
"Is it that bad?"
"I certainly hope not, but there's no getting away from the fact that, for a Magician who has accom- plished as much as he has, survival into one's eighties is close to a miracle."
"And you would rather that I was here," Jarrod con- cluded.
"No, I should prefer you be in Celador in case some- one calls for a quick meeting of the High Council in an attempt to ram their own candidacy through. The only trouble is that if we both turned up unexpectedly it would undoubtedly start rumors and might even precip- itate action. The Outpost, however, is a lot closer to Celador than Gwyndryth and days could make all the difference,"
"I plan to go through Interim, if I can persuade Nas- trus," Jarrod said, relieved.
"I must be getting old,'* Greylock said with a shake of his head. "I keep forgetting. Are there bunglebirds at Celador that home to Gwyndryth?"
263.
"There ought to be, but it might be a good idea to take one from here. There are four in the cote."
"In that case," Greylock said with a smile, "you'd better get going. The baby isn't going to wait for you, you know."
"Thank you, sir. Just send a message if you need me and I'll be there within hours. 0i, and please give my best to the Archmage," Jarrod added, getting to his feet.
Succession of a sort was on Malum's mind as well.
He had thought long and hard about the Emperor's commission. He had had a momentary qualm, but it hadn't been enough to keep him awake at night or even intrude upon his dreams. The Emperor had ordered it and he was the Emperor's sworn man; besides, it was a job and could be considered solely on that plane. Lastly, it was an interesting problem. The death must appear to be a natural one-not too difficult with a woman as fat as the Mother Supreme-but there should be a cer- tain elegance to it. It should also be quick, final and neat. Not a job that he could entrust to anyone else.
His mind made up, he went into the Imperial Forest for a solitary ride. Nothing unusual in that; he had done the same thing often enough before. He returned with a selection of mushrooms that he hoped were poison- ous. Once back in his room, he cut them up and boiled them over the fire in a pannikin. He reduced the liquid to concentrate it and then drew some off. He set a gob- bet of raw meat in it and left it to steep overnight. The next morning he made his way to the twisting streets of the old town, picked his way along the muddy path beneath the overhanging buildings until he found a stray cur in an empty lane and fed it the meat. The dog died in silence and with gratifying rapidity.