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of Bassania looked at each other. Fear and excitement were in the room now, a
slow dawning of comprehension, first awareness of possibility.
Awareness also came, after, of certain other things. How this breaking of the
peace would put those Bassanids in western lands-
merchants, most of them, a handful of others-desperately at risk. But that
always happened when a war began, and there weren't so many in any case. Such
considerations could not be permitted to alter anything. Merchants always knew
there were risks in going west (or east, for that matter, into Ispa-hani).
That was why they charged so much for what they brought back, how they made
their fortunes.
As Shirvan gestured his dismissal and the gathering made obeisance and began
to break up, one other man did venture to speak: Mazendar the vizier, who was
always licensed to do so in the presence of his king. A small, round man, his
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voice light and dry as the king's was grave and deep, he offered two small
suggestions.
The first was about timing. 'Great King, did you propose we attack before they
sail west?'
Shirvan narrowed his eyes. 'That is one possibility,' he said carefully. And
waited.
'Indeed, my dread lord, 'Mazendar murmured. 'I see a glimmer of your mighty
thoughts. We can do that, or wait until they have set off for the west and
then cross the border for Eubulus. Leontes will be pursued by fast ships with
panic-stricken tidings. He may be ordered to send some of his fleet home. The
remainder will feel exposed and disheartened. Or he may press on, always
fearing what we do behind him. And Sarantium will feel utterly exposed. Does
the King of Kings prefer that, or the other approach? His advisers await the
light of his wisdom.'
Mazendar was the only one of them worth listening to. Robazes could fight, and
lead an army, but Mazendar had a mind. Shirvan said, gravely, 'It will take us
some time to assemble our army north. We will attend upon events in the west
and make our decision accordingly.'
'How large an army, my lord?' Robazes asked the soldier's question.
He blinked in astonishment when Shirvan gave him a number. They had never sent
so many men before.
Shirvan kept his expression grim and hard. People should see the countenance
of the King of Kings and remember it and report it.
Valerius of Sarantium was not the only ruler who could send large armies into
the world. The king looked back at Mazendar. He had spoken of two suggestions.
The second concerned the queen of the Antae, in Sarantium.
Listening, the king nodded his head slowly. Was graciously pleased to agree
that this proposal had virtue. Gave his consent.
Men went forth from that room. Events began to move at speed. The
first signal fires were lit at darkfall that same day, sending messages of
flame from hilltop to fortress tower to hilltop beyond, in all necessary
directions.
The King of Kings spent much of the day with Mazendar and Robazes and the
lesser generals and his treasury officials, and the afternoon in prayer before
the palace's ember of the Holy Fire. At the dinner hour, he felt unwell,
feverish. He spoke of this to no one, of course, but reclining upon a couch to
dine he suddenly remembered-
belatedly- the unexpectedly competent physician who was to be coming to Kabadh
in the summer. He'd ordered the man to Sarantium in the interval, until after
his necessary elevation in caste. He'd been an observing sort of man; the king
had sought a way to utilize him.
Kings needed to do that. Useful men had to be put to use.
Shirvan sipped at a bowl of green tea and then shook his head. The movement
made him feel dizzy and so he stopped. That doctor would have left for the
west already. For Sarantium itself. An unfortunate place to have him now.
It couldn't be helped. A ruler's own health and comfort surely had to give way
to the needs of his people. There were burdens that came with royalty, and the
King of Kings knew them all. One's personal concerns had to yield at certain
times. Besides which, there simply had to be more than one effective doctor in
Bassania. He resolved to have Mazendar initiate a proper search ... it was not
something he'd ever done, in fact.
But one grew older, good health became less sure. Azal hovered with black [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
