Guardians Of The Coral Throne

Chapter 23

Pardes read the message and listened to Blade in silence. After that he was quite willing to forgive Blade for disrupting his breakfast, breaking down his gate, and strewing his garden with bodies. He would have liked to hear more details, but Blade cut him off.

«Sir, I will talk more later. But for now there is Gursun. Without him I would not be here. He is certainly dying, and I can at least give him the comfort of my being there, if nothing else.» Pardes nodded and Blade hurried away.

Blade arrived while Gursun was still conscious. He had refused any drugs because he wanted to be awake to talk to Blade. His face was ashy and his lip bled where he had bitten it because of the pain. He gripped Blade's outstretched hand so hard that Blade thought the fingers would snap. «Blade-your promise-for the Nessiri slaves-remember-remember.»

Then the doctors scurried around, to fill Gursun with drugs so that he could at least die peacefully. Three hours later he was gone, and after that Blade was able to give Pardes a more detailed version of his recent adventures. He also gave him Gursun's request.

Pardes leaned back in his massive chair of state and threw the last chicken bone from his second breakfast into a silver basin, washed his hands with scented water, and sat up.

«Iscaros and Amadora will not live more hours than there are fingers on this hand,» he said, raising his left hand. «Those who wish to complain of this haste and immoderation can complain afterward. I am sure that Sores will not be among them, in any case.»

«I doubt it,» said Blade.

«It is because of you and Gursun that this will be so. It is because of Gursun that I will live to carry it out.» He sipped at spiced wine. «If he had lived, I should perhaps have rewarded him, and him alone. But he no longer lives to be rewarded. I would not wish to leave his memory with no proper monument, so I think I shall do as he asked. The estates of Iscaros and Amadora are both large, and all of this will be forfeit to the Coral Throne. I think there will be enough gold to purchase with ease the freedom of all the Nessiri slaves and still leave some for the Imperial treasury.»

«Not to mention some for you,» said Blade. Exhaustion and bitterness made him careless in his choice of words.

«You think that?» said Pardes, quietly.

«I do. I have seen much in Karan, and liked very little of it.»

«It does not matter now whether or not you were right then,» said Pardes. «But I say to you now that you are wrong. For the moment the intrigues of Karan are a thing of the past. We must stand together to save the Empire from the Scadori.»

«Yes, I suppose you can afford to think that way, now that you are on top,» said Blade.

Pardes shrugged. «Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I would not be so willing for there to be peace if my foremost enemies were not defeated and doomed. I do not know, and I doubt if even the gods do. But it does not matter. What does matter is that I see as clearly as you do that this is a moment of deadly danger. I see as clearly as you do that we must fight the Scadori, not each other. I swear to you that your comrade Gursun died not to give me power, but for the safety of Karan and all who live in it. I will swear this in any temple, by any god that you care to name. I will swear it, because there must be trust between us if we are to do our best for Karan.»

Blade did not ask for any oaths. To his own surprise, he realized that the big eunuch was probably telling the truth.

Iscaros and Amadora must have been dead nearly as quickly as Pardes promised. Galloping messengers brought their heads back to the duke before nightfall. Blade stood looking down at the two bloody heads in their wicker baskets.

«I don't mind admitting I would have liked to see them die,» he said. «I owed them a personal vengeance.»

«I am genuinely sorry, Blade,» said Pardes. «But there was not time to send you secretly into Karanopolis. We had to strike, and strike fast, making a quick end of them: It was not making a quick end of you that brought them here, after all.» Again, Blade had to admit Pardes was right. But he would still have preferred a personal vengeance.

Pardes and Blade set out for Karanopolis with the two heads. A strong escort went with them. Pardes was taking no chances on some frantic partisan of his victims trying for a final, desperate act of vengeance.

Jores VII listened calmly to Pardes' and Blade's tales of recent events. He winced when they came to the summary execution of Iscaros and Amadora, then shrugged and let the story run to its close.

He frowned when they had finished. «We cannot doubt that what was done was absolutely necessary. So We can only say that We wish it had not been necessary.»

«A vain wish, considering Princess Amadora's ambitions.»

Jores' frown deepened. «Pardes, you somewhat presume by interrupting Us.» The eunuch shot a surprised glance at Jores, then looked at Blade. Blade grinned back. Pardes was going to have problems, dealing with the new, more decisive and confident Emperor.

«In any case,» Jores went on, «what has been done could not be undone even if We wished it. It will benefit no one except the Scadori to argue the point further. But We bid you consider this, Pardes. What you have done reveals that you are as ambitious in your way as Amadora and Iscaros were in theirs. We have suspected it. Now We know it, and will not forget it.»

Pardes' surprise showed plainly on his face. «Your Majesty, do you suspect me of seeking the Coral Throne? You know the law would forbid me, even if my own honor did not.»

«Pardes, your honor is a slender reed upon which to prop the Coral Throne. We would not do so if you were not a eunuch. But the law does indeed forbid a eunuch to sit upon the Coral Throne. It does not keep a eunuch from seeking all power other than that, so that the Emperor is but his puppet. Nor does it keep him from seeking a more pliable Emperor if the first one refuses to play his game.»

«Your Majesty seems to doubt me beyond all measure. If you wish my office or even my life-«

Jores raised a commanding hand. «We wish neither. We wish your best service during the time of danger from the Scadori. After that We wish your loyalty.»

«You shall have both, Your Majesty.»

«We doubt We shall have your loyalty unless a close watch is kept on you, Pardes. You are too old a dog to learn new tricks and become a faithful watchdog.» Jores rose. «We shall wish to speak with both of you at a later time.» He made a dismissing gesture with both hands, turned his back, and strode away.

Outside in the corridor Blade turned to Pardes. «You look like you were just hit on the head with an axe,» he said with a laugh. «What did you expect? That we would all three fall on each other's necks like long-lost brothers?»

Pardes shook his head angrily. «Not that, Blade. Do not insult me by thinking me that kind of fool. It is just that I find it hard to realize that Jores has become-what-«

«An Emperor,» said Blade quietly.

Within a week patrols were probing Scadori territory, while relays of fast-galloping messengers brought their reports to Blade and Pardes. Meanwhile, Blade and Pardes were working hard at mobilizing citizens, and freeing Nessiri slaves and anyone else who wanted to fight. Many of the refugees from the frontier lands came in with their own weapons. The Nessiri slaves had to be freed, armed, and organized, given leaders and training. As the work piled up, Blade would have given a great deal to have Gursun alive again, or be twins himself.

«Thank all the gods you're not,» said Pardes to that. «Jores and I might be able to manage with one of you in Karan. In fact, we'll have to. But two of you?» He threw up his hands in mock despair.

In the middle of all the work, Blade found time to commission the Emperor's personal sculptor to carve tombs for Gursun and Tera. He could at least do this to make sure that his Nessiri comrade and his Scadori wife were not entirely forgotten in Karan.

Jores elevated Blade to a dukedom, and presented him with the most dazzling suit of armor Blade had ever seen. It was gilded all over, and studded with jewels and silver inlay work. Fortunately it was also robust and well-designed. Otherwise Blade would have declined Jores' admonition to «wear it when you lead against the Scadori.» He was not going into a pitched battle in junk armor to please six Emperors!

The agreed-on master strategy was simple. A solid mass of infantry would swing around the Scadori northern flank and move to the Pass of Scador. That force would have to go on foot, since there would be no fodder to support a mounted army along that route. They would block the Scadori line of retreat.

Then the main army would march straight into the Scadori-held territory. It would have more regiments of Imperial infantry, all the freed slaves and volunteer recruits, and most of the cavalry. If the enemy did not assemble, they would be destroyed piece by piece. If they did assemble, the main army would engage them while the other came up from their rear. If they retreated, they would find the pass blocked and end up caught between the two armies.

It was so simple and foolproof a plan that Blade was quite certain something would go badly wrong. He could hardly believe that this whole confused and grim trip into Dimension X could end so simply.

The days moved on into winter, and the flanking force of infantry marched off toward the northwest. With the rivers frozen they had a long chilly walk before they were in position. Blade stood in the cold to watch the column move out of sight, then returned to his own work.

More days. Then just before sunset one evening a messenger on a half-dead horse came thundering up to the palace. Bloodstained bandages were around his head and one arm. Sheer panic distorted his voice as he stammered out his report.

The Scadori had massed and were on the march. They were headed east, straight for Karanopolis, brushing aside patrols and devastating the countryside as they came. At the rate they were moving, they would be under the walls of the city in barely ten days.

What about the flanking force of infantry? The first messenger didn't know anything about them. Before the night was over a second messenger came in with the answer to that question.

The flanking force had lost a large part of its strength in a surprise attack as it moved around the Scadori flank. The commander promptly entered the nearest town with the survivors and started fortifying it. Now there was no hope of the infantry catching up with the Scadori before they reached Karanopolis.

Jores cursed when he heard that news. «I knew I should have sent either you or Pardes to command that force,» he told Blade. «What General Tharsos has done will cost him his head, but it may cost Karan a great deal more.»

Blade nodded grimly. The original neat plan of campaign lay in shattered pieces around them. In fact the situation was more dangerous than ever before. «If the Scadori do appear before the walls, there will be panic in the city. In that case I would not give much for the chances of the Coral Throne.»

«Perhaps,» said Jores. «But let's see what we can do to prevent that situation from coming to pass.»

Blade shrugged. «There's only one thing we can do, Your Majesty.»

«What's that?»

«March out, with what we have available here, and meet the Scadori in the field.»

«Risk Karan on the outcome of one battle?»

«Yes.»

«I wish-but no, even an Emperor's wishes will do no good here.» Jores slapped the hilt of his sword. «This is all that can save us now. You are right, Blade. We shall march.»