Ruler of the Realm

Eighteen

Once the three old soldiers had left, Fogarty said, ‘So you don’t buy the idea of a treaty?’ He gave a steely little smile. ‘Obviously.’

Blue sighed. When the Generals were present, the meeting had to be formal. Now she was among friends, she could relax a bit. She looked at Gatekeeper Fogarty and shook her head.

‘I think it’s a trick. Or at least it might be.’ Out of the corner of her eye she could see Pyrgus examining an orchid. He looked just like their father when he’d tended the plants.

‘What do you think he’s up to?’ Fogarty asked her.

Blue didn’t know what Hairstreak was up to. Didn’t know for sure he was up to anything. What she did know was that she was afraid of making a mistake. That sick fear had been with her since the day she accepted the crown.

‘Buying time,’ Blue said with more conviction than she felt. ‘I still think he’s likely to attack before I’ve any real experience of ruling the Realm. But he may not be ready yet. Either that, or he just wants to keep us off our guard. If we’re in the middle of peace negotiations, the last thing we’d expect would be war.’

Fogarty said. ‘Our endolg would sense that right away.’

‘He may not agree to endolgs,’ Blue said.

‘Wouldn’t that be suspicious?’

‘Yes, but it’s happened in the past.’ The one thing she had done was study politics. The history of the Realm was a long, miserable litany of treachery and deception. She looked at Mr Fogarty soberly. ‘In fact, most treaties have been brokered without endolgs.’

‘Actually,’ Pyrgus said, ‘I’ve been thinking about it and an endolg wouldn’t guarantee good faith. General Ovard said the details would be worked out by civil servants. That’s certainly what would happen. If Hairstreak’s people think he’s genuine, an endolg wouldn’t pick up anything amiss.’

‘There’s still the formal signing,’ Fogarty said.

‘By then it might be too late.’ Pyrgus looked from one face to the other. ‘Honestly, endolgs aren’t the answer.’

Madame Cardui suddenly said, ‘That’s not all, is it deeah?’ Pyrgus glanced at her, but she was looking at Blue.

It was probably time to tell them. Blue was used to doing things on her own, had been since she was a little girl. But things were different now. Now she was responsible for the entire Realm. She had to start sharing. She smiled, a little shamefacedly.

‘No, it’s not. I went to the oracle.’

‘Ah,’ said Madame Cardui.

There was a long silence, then Pyrgus said, ‘What oracle?’

‘Blue saw the Spicemaster,’ Madame Cardui said.

‘Who’s the Spicemaster?’ Fogarty asked.

‘Which god did you get?’ Pyrgus asked in sudden excitement. As an aside to Fogarty he added, ‘He’s an oracle.’

‘Great,’ Fogarty muttered.

Blue said, ‘I asked him -’ She hesitated. ‘I got the Yidam. Is that good?’ She looked from Pyrgus to Madame Cardui.

‘Good, but dangerous,’ Madame Cardui said.

‘And tricky,’ Pyrgus added. ‘At least that’s what everybody says. I’d never have the nerve to go to the Spicemaster.’ He looked at his sister admiringly.

‘I don’t suppose anybody’s going to tell me what this is all about?’ Fogarty remarked sourly.

Madame Cardui reached out and took his hand. ‘The Spicemaster is trained to call the Old Gods who ruled before the Light. They can sometimes tell you the future, if you’re prepared to take the risk.’ She reached over and patted Fogarty’s knee. ‘I’ll explain it all later, deeah.’ She turned to look expectantly at Blue. ‘Did you ask about Hairstreak’s intentions?’

Blue shook her head. ‘No. I asked what would happen if we attacked the Nighters.’ She found herself looking from one to the other for approval and stopped immediately. She had to be decisive. ‘He said we’d win. And quickly.’ When nobody spoke, she added, ‘He also said I was in danger of betrayal from someone close.’ She blinked. ‘Actually I got on very well with him. The Yidam. I think he liked me.’

‘In danger of betrayal?’ Pyrgus echoed.

‘That has to be Lord Hairstreak,’ Blue said soberly. ‘Nobody’s much closer than an uncle. You can see why I don’t trust his treaty.’ She was looking for approval again. She couldn’t help it. ‘I still think we should attack.’ Somehow she just managed to keep from turning it into a question.

Mr Fogarty’s rasping voice broke the silence. ‘Did this oracle thing actually say we would win? In those words: you will win the war ?’

Blue said a little impatiently, ‘No, not in those exact words, Gatekeeper. He said something like… “ An enemy will be swiftly routed .” Something like that. But it’s what he meant.’

‘Ah,’ said Fogarty. He sniffed. ‘Bloody oracles.’

They looked at him. Eventually Madame Cardui asked, ‘What’s that mean, deeah?’

Fogarty said, ‘We used to have an oracle at home – well, at home centuries ago. Called the Delphic Oracle. Something similar to your Spicemaster, by the sound of it, except it was a woman. Got taken over by the god and predicted the future? That’s what happened, was it?’

Blue nodded.

Fogarty said, ‘The whole set-up was famous in the ancient world.’ He drew in a deep breath and sighed. ‘There was a king called Croesus who wanted to attack the Persians. The oracle told him if he attacked, a mighty empire would be destroyed.’ He looked across from under his eyebrows at Blue.

‘And did his attack succeed?’ Blue asked, frowning.

‘The Persians beat the crap out of him,’ Fogarty said. ‘The mighty empire that got destroyed was his own.’ He stared at her with cold blue eyes. ‘You have to be careful how you interpret an oracle.’

‘Oh,’ Blue said.

Pyrgus said, ‘So you wouldn’t attack the Nighters, Mr Fogarty?’

‘Oh, I’d attack them all right,’ Fogarty said. ‘I don’t believe in oracles.’