Wizard Of Rentoro

Chapter 19

Blade explained the Wizard's secrets and his own campaign plan three times the next day.

The first time he explained it to Haymi Razence and the other six leaders of the rebels against the Wizard in Morina. The second time he explained it to the four leaders of the rebels' strong-arm guards and assassins, who would be sent against the Wizard's spies and agents in the city.

Both times he had to go slowly, since he faced men who could hardly believe what they were hearing. Both times he was interrupted at almost every other sentence by a cry of surprise or some confused question. Both times he gradually saw belief awakening on drawn faces, then hope, then joy. He listened to wild cheering and was pounded on the back until he was sure he'd be black and blue. One of the assassins, a man as tough-looking as any Wolf leader, broke down and sobbed like a child.

Blade wasn't surprised. The Wizard had a peculiar method for dealing with opponents in the larger cities. He did not try to kill them off the moment they appeared. Instead he used the view-balls and his spies to keep watch on them. When they seemed about to become dangerous, he sent in the Wolves. Sometimes he struck only at the guilty men, sometimes at their families or friends as well. Sometimes he would even take a man's wife or child and leave the man himself.

Even when a group of rebels showed no signs of becoming dangerous, the Wizard would sooner or later strike it down. There was no way of predicting when this would happen. It seemed to be guided entirely by the Wizard's whims. In Morina the Wizard struck more often, because of the city's history. The Wizard's enemies there had been virtually destroyed five times in the last forty years.

So every leader Blade spoke to was a man under a sort of suspended death sentence-a sentence the Wizard might impose at any time. None of them could go to bed at night certain they would live to see another dawn. Now Blade had offered them hope.

The third time Blade explained the Wizard's secrets and the campaign against him, he had an audience of only one man. That man, however, was Count Drago Bossir, and he was worth ten ordinary Morinans.

«We must win him over, Blade,» said Serana. «If my brother himself were to come over to our cause, he could hardly do more for it.»

«I will do my best,» replied Blade. «But it seems to me that Count Drago must be half converted already, or he would not have taken the risk of coming here.»

«Do not for one moment let him know you think that,» said Serana urgently. «Then he will be as stubborn as an old mule, just out of pride.»

It seemed to Blade that the count had good reason to be both proud and stubborn-if only because he was still alive at eighty. He'd survived more of the history of the Wizard's rule than anyone else alive in Morina.

He'd been only two when Morina rose in its last great rebellion against the Wizard and the last great battle against the Wolves was fought outside its walls. His father and one uncle died in the battle, another uncle was burned alive, and his mother was carried off to be a plaything for the Wolves. He himself survived only by the Wolves' carelessness.

He survived, and over the next seventy years suffered from the Wizard's tyranny time after time. He was betrothed to a young woman, and the Wolves took her for the Wizard's harem. He married, had three children, and lost two of them to the Wizard. A son went to the crystal mines, while a daughter was caught up in a plot against the Wizard and died slowly and painfully from an assassin's poison. Of his grandchildren, Zemun now commanded a company in the city guard. The other, Nebon, was a fugitive since five years ago and very probably long dead.

In spite of his years and his sufferings, the count looked no more than sixty. He held himself as straight as a lance, and there was still more gray than white in his pointed beard and flowing hair. His voice was low, but not from weakness. It was the quiet voice of a man who knows he has only a certain amount of strength left, and will not waste a bit of it.

Count Drago listened calmly as Blade explained the Wizard and the coming war against him. When he'd finished, the count's head sank down on his chest and there was a long silence. Blade wondered if the old man was falling asleep, then noticed that the gray eyes under the bushy brows were bright and wet. He was silent, until suddenly the count's head snapped up and those eyes fixed themselves on Blade.

«I will be with you, on one condition,» he said.

Blade and Serana spoke almost together. «What is that?»

«The Bossirs are a family as old as the Zotairs. Perhaps the Lady Serana did not tell you this, Blade, but it is true.» Serana nodded reluctantly. «We are also as worthy to rule Morina. More worthy, considering how Duke Efrim has played pimp to the Wizard these past five years.» Serana frowned, but nodded again.

«I have endured much, for longer than either of you has been alive,» the count went on. «All my dead, you know of them. All the shame, perhaps you do not know. I am alive myself, only because I have pretended all those dead were nothing to me. No one has heard me speak a word against the Wizard, until now. I have lived for the last sixty years by imitating a rabbit.»

Blade found it hard to imagine a less appropriate comparison. The count reminded him far more of an old wolf, grown gray but far from toothless. If this old wolf did bite, the Wizard and the Wizard's friends were going to feel his teeth.

«You have lived sixty years as a rabbit,» said Serana briskly. «Now you wish to end your life as a man. How can we help you?»

«As I said, the Bossirs are fit to rule Morina. I would be Duke of Morina, and my grandson and his heirs after me.»

Serana sprang out of her chair, her face turning red with sudden rage. Blade gripped her by both shoulders until the rage passed. She still seemed unable to find words, so Blade spoke.

«You ask much, Count Drago.»

«I deserve much, after so many years.»

«Does the Lady Serana deserve to be cast aside, after all that she has endured in the Wizard's castle?»

«She will not be cast aside. I imagine my grandson Zemun will be more than happy to marry her. She will have a place worthy of her, never fear. Or do you have hopes of marrying her yourself?»

Blade smiled. «She will be an excellent wife for any man who weds her, but that man will not be me. When the Wizard's power is broken, I must continue on my travels.»

The count seemed to relax. Obviously he'd been afraid that Blade was another adventurer like the Wizard, a man who might not wish to rule all of Rentoro, but who could have ambitions in Morina. «My grandson would agree with you about the merits of the Lady Serana. Shall we-«

«Shall you two stop discussing me as though I was a prize mare?» Serana snapped. «I think I have some right to speak, when my fate and that of my house is being decided.»

«Certainly,» said the count. «But we thought you had nothing to say.» His face and voice became grave. «My lady, the House of Zotair has come to the end of its road, or it will have soon-«

«My brother lives. He is young, his wife is fertile, and he has a son.»

«Two sons, Serana. There is a second, born a year ago.»

«So why do you reach out your hand for the duchy, then?» Serana's rage seemed to be past, but there was still an edge in her voice. Blade didn't blame her. The ambitions of Count Drago's old age threatened at least to weaken Morina in its fight against the Wizard. At least? That was more than enough!

«Because none of this will make the slightest difference, when open warfare begins against the Wizard,» said the count sharply. «Your brother will do something that will raise every hand in Morina against him.»

«He hasn't yet.»

«He will. He lives today only because people fear his master, the Wizard. You have been away from Morina these past two years, Serana. You could not hope to know how your brother has gone from bad to worse in kissing the Wizard's ass and indulging his own vices. The House of Zotair is doomed, except for you. Your brother's wife will die with him, and the sons are too young to rule for many years. We cannot afford a child-duke and a regency for so long, not after the fall of the Wizard.»

Blade smiled. «You seem very confident that we are going to fight the Wizard and win. Then why do you think we need your help so badly that Serana must give up her family's position in your favor?»

«I just said it. That position isn't going to be worth a pile of sheep dung!» snapped the count. His patience was clearly beginning to wear as thin as Serana's. «Do not think that I will lift a finger against you if you challenge the Wizard. I will be happy to see his power broken, whatever else may or may not happen. But I will be happier to see Morina in the hands of my house. My voice speaking for you is perhaps worth that much.»

Blade knew the count's proposal had to be seriously considered, whether Serana liked it or not. From what Blade had heard, the count was one of the most respected men in Morina. His call could bring out many people who might otherwise waver, at least during the next few weeks. Those weeks would be the crucial ones in preparing Morina for the war, and even a few extra men at work might make a great difference when the Wolves came down.

They might gain even more than time and willing hands. With the count on their side, Duke Efrim would find it harder to wage open warfare against them. He simply would not be able to find enough fighting men. Blade and Serana would still have to worry about the Wolves, the Wizard's assassins, and probably the duke's treachery. They would not have to fight and win a civil war in Morina before they could face the Wolves.

Certainly that was worth something. If the count was right, the Zotairs were finished anyway. All he wanted in return for his help was the assurance of an orderly succession for the Bossirs. That would certainly be a blessing to Morina as well as to the Bossirs. Otherwise there might not be a civil war before they met the Wolves, but there would almost certainly be one afterward.

Destroying the Wizard's power was going to reintroduce traditional politics to Rentoro, Blade realized. Every rivalry and feud simmering over the last century was going to boil over at once. The battle that destroyed the Wolves was going to be only the first in a long and probably bloody series.

Well, Rentoro was still going to be better off without the Wizard's tyranny. But it might take some time. Meanwhile, there was the question of Count Drago's proposal, facing them here and now.

Blade looked at Serana and she nodded at him to go ahead. «Count Drago,» he said. «We cannot throw away the House of Zotair merely on your word. The Lady Serana has been away for two years, and I have never been in Morina until now. We do not know all that we need to know. Let us ask certain other men about these matters. If they speak as you have done, we can meet here in-oh, two days. Then you will find us more ready to talk of your proposal.»

Blade was afraid the count would explode at the implication he was not telling the truth. However, he merely blinked, then nodded slowly. «Your bargaining would shame a heuda-dealer,» he said with a thin smile. «But I would not have it otherwise, if you are going to be a leader in this war against the Wizard. Very well, in two days' time.» He rose and left without another word.

Serana let out a sigh that made the candles flicker. «That old-! People always said there was more to him than met the eye, but I never dreamed of this! I don't much love Efrim, but by all the fates I hope Drago's lying about him!»

«And if he isn't?» said Blade quietly. He wanted to thrash the matter out with Serana now, in case they didn't see eye to eye. They would be wise to present a united front the next time they faced the count.

Serana sighed again «If he isn't, then he can have Morina, and much good may it do him! Yet-can there be so many people who might oppose us, that we need the count's support? Can anyone in Morina dream of supporting the Wizard, when they know they must fight him or die?»

«Yes,» said Blade wearily. «There will always be those who don't believe that's the choice. Even among those who do believe, many will hope to save their own skins by going on their knees to the Wizard. We could shout ourselves blue in the face and none of them would change. They may listen to the count.»

«It seems the fates have filled Morina with fools,» Serana growled.

«It is no worse than other cities,» said Blade. «And now, all this talk has made me thirsty.» He picked up the handbell and rang for a servant.