Cost Of TimeChapter 15: Emissaries free porn video

Tanda looked up and saw one of the priests of Galzar Wolf's Head standing in the entrance to her office. "Please, Tanda Havra, may I have a word with you?"

She shrugged. "You'd do better talking to the Duke."

He shook his head, contradicting her. "I wasn't hoping for understanding, just someone who would listen. The Duke might do something unfortunate and that wouldn't do at all. Please, I want you to hear what I have to say. It isn't important whether or not you agree, but that you will convey my words to the Duke, and eventually to the High King himself... once I'm on the way."

"On your way where?" Tanda asked, her eyes narrowing.

"King Xyl in Tenosh has asked for a chaplain of Galzar for himself and others and for us to teach the way of Galzar to his soldiers."

"And you're the one going, eh? The sacrificial goat, to see if he's being honest?"

He shrugged. "My lady, he has talked to several of our under priests, men captured in the war. You will recall that it was considered something of a marvel at the time that they were willing to trade prisoners."

"Instead of cutting their hearts out? Tuck and I always thought that was because we had thousands of their men prisoner and they had dozens of ours."

"King Xyl assured our under priests at the time that it was on his personal command that there were no sacrifices."

"Okay, you're going off to teach the soldiers of King Xyl how to behave like proper soldiers. Why do you think that the Duke would have a problem with that?"

"Because, my lady, from the early days of Kalvan, from the days when he was that and nothing more, we knew the perfidy that was Styphon. We knew that Styphon's priests desired to end the worship of all gods but their own. So we stopped being neutral in the wars of men and sided with Hostigos and Kalvan against Styphon and those who supported the false god.

"When it became clear that the God-King was going to make war on us, combined with the remnants of Styphon, again we gave up our neutrality to fight the common enemies of us all. Even after Styphon was stamped out in Zarthan, we kept aiding the High King and his soldiers. We weren't neutral in the war against the God-King."

Tanda regarded him. Priests! What can you say about men who believe they have the ear of their god? Or who believe their gods speak to them?

"You're saying that if King Xyl is not lying, that the priests of Galzar will resume their neutrality?" she asked, wanting it to be clear.

"Yes, Lady Tanda, that's exactly what I mean."

She sat thinking for a few moments. "Uncle Wolf, this is a personal question. Do you think I am an honorable person?"

He bobbed his head. "More honorable than most!"

"Then, please listen to what I have to say. I understand the beliefs of those who follow Galzar. You have been traditionally neutral on the battlefield, exhorting men to keep to the faith of Galzar, follow his Way and thus live according to some principles when it comes to the conduct of war. This is no small thing and kings, princes, dukes, and even village herbalists know this.

"I will not argue with you about King Xyl's intentions; to be honest, I've not heard even one dishonorable word about the man except that he opposes us. It's not as though we didn't kill the priests, nobles and the soldiers of the God-King whenever we had the chance!

"But they have a tradition down south of submission to the will of their gods. Maybe this will help you, maybe it won't. Look in me in the eye and tell me honestly that new gods don't come along, changing the balance of power among the various priesthoods?"

"It doesn't happen as often as it used to," Uncle Wolf told her. It was clear he knew it was a weak reply.

"But it does happen. Uncle Wolf, the people of the Heartlands south of us have had their world ripped asunder. The God-King is dead, his priests are dead, and the sacrifices that have gone on for millennia are ended. In a way, I think those sacrifices, as terrible as they were, might have been part of the glue that held their social fabric together.

"Now, Uncle Wolf, there is a vacuum. King Xyl's reaching out to you might sound reasonable, but to me it's a sign of desperation. He thinks his people need to have something to believe in."

Uncle Wolf bobbed his head. "That is so, Lady Tanda. They want a priest of Dralm and priestess of Yrtta All-mother to accompany me."

"Have you then consulted with Father Endymion of Dralm and Mother Sirta of Yrtta before you agreed to this?"

The priest again bobbed his head in agreement, leaving Tanda to shake her head in wonder at the denseness of the priesthood. Because if they weren't stupid they were foolishly brave.

"Uncle Wolf, if there is a vacuum they will be grasping at straws. Father, when a straw doesn't support a drowning man, he pushes it aside and grasps at another, heedless of the straw that failed."

He bowed his head. "My lady, you are truly wise, but we are not totally stupid. Right now, though, we are more concerned about the reaction of the High King, of the Duke... than about the welcome we will receive in Tenosh."

"My husband is a pious man, priest. He will let you go and will not call it treason, nor will he let anyone else do so. If you come to ruin, though, he will not lift his smallest finger to help you."

"We never imagined he would," Uncle Wolf said, shaking his head. "I am sorry, Lady Tanda, but we are going to do this. We have discussed this for some days now, among ourselves and have agreed on our course of action."

Tanda wanted to tear her hair out. They had talked for days about a contact with the enemy of the High King? They had talked for days with the man who had marched two million men into striking distance of the cities of Mexico, and who had already surrounded and besieged one?

"Who among you will go south?" Tanda asked him directly.

"I will, as will Endymion of Dralm and Sirta of Yrtta All-Mother."

"You may proceed. You will not have our blessing, but while in our lands, we will protect you. Once in King Xyl's lands, your safety will be in his hands."

When the priest started to speak, Tanda waved her hand, silencing him. "It is better not to speak of the details. Not all may have the same opinion as my husband or I."

He bowed and left, and Tanda turned slightly to let Puma crawl out from under her desk. She'd had no warning about the meeting, and didn't want to hold it by herself. Now she waved at the door. "Please, Lady Puma, if you would, would you tell Tuck and Brigadier Andromoth that I would like to see them?"

The younger woman bobbed her head and was out the door at once. It didn't take long for the four of them to meet. Tanda explained what had been said.

Tuck looked at her and sighed. "The best outcome we could have hoped for, given the situation."

"Yes," she said bluntly. "I don't think it would be wise to look for who King Xyl's intermediary is in Xipototec though. At least not by investigating Uncle Wolf. Lady Puma, that includes the other priests as well."

Puma bobbed her head, planning on having her eyes watching them before dawn.

Tanda grinned. "No, Puma, I mean it. Don't watch them. We can't afford an incident with the regular priesthood."

"No," Tuck agreed instantly. "That could cause a foul brew! We will just have to continue our investigations as they are."

"I didn't bring it up with Uncle Wolf, but if there is a religious vacuum in Tenosh, it's not to our benefit in the long run. He and the others, if successful, could help tip the balance in our favor," Tanda hypothesized.

Tuck shuddered. "No. Religious wars aren't good, they never are. And we both know what will happen if two hundred million Heartlanders decide to turn evangelical. Still, you're right; there's not much we can do to stop them, without risking a major break with people we can't afford to have a break with."

He turned brisk. "Another item for our agenda is that I'll send the High King a special code message, and tell him to have that fellow Mytron who has been working on codes, to come up with something extra special for the next one, and swap to it as soon as possible. Something really different."

Tanda looked at him in surprise. "Who could possibly be reading our messages?"

"In my time, many of our Kings thought just that, that their messages were unreadable by anyone else. My people in particular, took full advantage of their arrogance, because we are very inventive and read most of what they had to say."

The meeting was of Captain Amby's officers, held on the main deck of their ship. Workmen were still busy hammering and sawing; there were shouts and calls of men working the cranes and pulleys loading stores aboard.

"We've worked together now for nearly two moons. I told you on the first day that I would choose my officers and so it has been. What I was not clear about was that when it came time to sail I would adjust my officers in their duties.

"Lieutenant Stavron, you are my Sixth Officer."

"Sir!"

"And you stay Sixth officer, in charge of the fourth watch and the mortars."

"Yes, sir!" The man who was the youngest of them all, except for Noia, looked ecstatic.

"Lieutenant Noia, you stand relieved of your duties as fifth officer."

A lifetime of preparation couldn't have prepared her for the body blow. It sucked her wind away, leaving her breathless and dizzy. More than one voice was raised in protest.

"Hush!" Captain Amby told them.

"Lieutenant Sharpion, you were Fourth Officer. You, sir, stand relieved of those duties. As of now you are my Third Officer, commanding the second watch and the starboard main battery."

"Sir!" the young lieutenant said with enthusiasm.

"Lieutenant Vashon, you were Third Officer, now you are Second Officer and command the first watch and the port side main battery."

"Sir," the man said, with little enthusiasm. For a moment there, he'd seen the same ruin as Noia had, another appointed in his place.

"Lieutenant Hosh, you sir, stand relieved as Second Officer. Sir, your work has been inadequate, but not incompetent. It is my judgment that you should be given another chance. Sir, you are appointed Fifth officer, commanding the third watch, and the fore deck during battle."

This time another paled as Noia had. "Sir," Lieutenant Hosh said, his voice more a gargle than confident.

"Lieutenant Butreus, you sir, stand relieved as First Officer. You are required to report forthwith to the admiral." Captain Amby paused and seeing the consternation on the other's face, then quickly went on. "There you will be promoted captain and given command of Hull seven-three."

There are slaps in the face and claps on the back, Noia thought.

"Lieutenant Noia is promoted Commander and is First Officer."

The simple announcement took everyone by surprise, including Noia.

"At my request, Tanda Sa, of the Ruthani is promoted Fourth Officer."

Out of nowhere, Tanda Sa appeared and saluted his captain and took a seat with the others.

Captain Butreus saluted Captain Amby and went to his cabin to gather his things.

Captain Amby looked at his officers for a few moments. "One thing it is given to captains of new ships is to suggest a name for their ship. It has to be approved by the Admiral and the High King, either of who can command a name of their own choosing. I'm pleased to say that they have agreed with me. This is now the King's ship Three Hills.

"As you know, for a long time I was a gun commander under General Count Alkides, then, after Three Hills, a battery commander. With the exception of Commander Noia, few of you have much sea experience, and she has none with a ship that can sail into the wind.

"Surely, we've all read the reports of those who've gone before and we've sailed on such vessels. I hope none of you think that a few days experience under sail in a harbor, however large, is going to suffice."

There were headshakes from all the officers, including Noia. Of all of them, she was aware that she actually had it harder, because she had years of experience of how things worked -- on ships quite different than these. It would be interesting to see which was better: natural ability or some training, even if it had been the wrong training.

"Now, one thing you haven't imagined or expected. In a palm-width the crew will come aboard. The work you see going on around us is mostly fluff, things we'll be doing ourselves tomorrow -- as we will be under sail for Blassdorf as soon as there is light to see in the morning."

"You are now dismissed. You will talk with no one about our scheduled departure. I will tell the crew just before sundown, and warn them that as of that moment they are in mortal peril to be found off this ship before we sail. Commander Noia, see me please."

The others left, eyeing her. Noia didn't care; she was just relieved that she hadn't been sent packing.

"Commander..."

"Captain..." The two of them traded small smiles.

"I hope you understand why you had to wait a bit," he told her.

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"I hope that when I say that our ultimate destination is Xiphlon, that you will forgive me."

"Xiphlon, sir?" she asked, momentarily confused.

"Yes. As you will recall, that will cut a half moon off your trip home, if you start there instead of Harphax City."

Noia nodded in understanding.

He smiled. "Of course, we'll approach in the dark of night, put you and your group over the side in a small boat, then turn away for Zimapan."

That was truly a surprise. "Zimapan?"

"Aye, the High King thinks his Marshal of Armies is too exposed without modern warships. Three Hills is one of six ships that will be enroute to Harmakros by the end of the year."

"Don't say any more," she pleaded, knowing he had already said too much.

"Oh, it's not all that secret, and the information I've told you will be public before any of us are in position to repeat it to eager ears.

"The sad thing, of course, is the twenty-three yard men working on Three Hills just now. The High King has a message to them that I'll explain as we sail in the morning. They are headed west with you."

Noia shook her head vigorously. "Please, I don't know who ordered this, but it wasn't the High King. They have to be volunteers. Those men aren't likely to ever see their homes again."

"There's a reason they are all unmarried and most of them are younger sons. Trust the High King, Lady Noia."

"I'll trust true volunteers and nothing else," she told him.

"Please, I realize he's not your king, but he's mine. The reason he's the king of everything that matters is because the High King is a fair man, who treats all men fairly. Before you condemn him, listen to what I say on the morrow."

Noia nodded.

Captain Amby laughed. "The admiral said promoting you was my choice, but that I could easily come to regret it. I know your mission, Lady Noia; I understand its importance. It's my fondest goal to give you the training and experience you need, without getting us all killed."

"I'd appreciate that," she said with a laugh.

"And your entourage," Captain Amby said. "I had no trouble placing Tanda Sa, he's a natural leader that all of the men look up to. Literally as well as metaphorically. Trilium is a natural soldier who will do a great deal to train our marines. Phelen..."

"Six times Mr. Yirtas, the ship's clerk, has messed up reports sent to the Admiral's attention. I'd like to make him assistant to Mr. Phelen," Noia proposed.

"You want Phelen as the ship's clerk?" The idea seemed to stun the captain.

"Sir, yes. You are the captain, sir, and can make whatever dispositions you wish. If Mr. Phelen doesn't work out, Captain, replace him with my blessing."

"Mr. Yirtas has a year of experience with what the admiral wants."

"And still gets it wrong, Captain. Sir, please, by your leave. Allow Phelen to serve as clerk as long as it pleases you."

"That'll be all, Commander," Captain Amby told her.

Noia paused an extra heartbeat. "And I swear to you, Captain," her voice was a whisper, "I told them that if you ever had reason to put me over the side, I'd go on my own volition."

She walked away, leaving him shaking his head.

Captain Amby was a competent man. While there would be value to her if she had command experience, it wasn't worth ruining a man like Amby; it wasn't worth much of anything. He'd told the admiral in a private communication that if he'd ever received an order placing Noia in command of his ship, he'd put her over the side instead. Perhaps he'd been too hasty.

The King of Zarthan belched, and his wife glared at him. "Different customs, wife."

"In that case, we'd be treated to a symphony of sound every time we have a state dinner. I guess I must not be paying attention."

"You're never going to let me have any fun being king," he pretended to pout.

"I'm curious, Freidal, if you had fun last night."

"Ah!" he said with a hiss of pleasure. "Yes. I must say you have been properly obedient to the priests' wishes that I stay off my back."

"Oh, I'll make up for it later, when I get further along in my pregnancy."

"I'm glad I didn't hurt you or the baby," he said, turning serious.

"That bullet would have hurt a lot more, Freidal. Forget it. As Tuck would say, it's part of the cost of doing business."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not going to dismiss it that lightly. We need to do something or we're going to lose this war of treachery and treason as badly as we lost the war against the High King.

"What do we know about the plotters? Nothing, not really. We assume they want the throne of Zarthan, but who is their person who will step up to assume the crown? My marriage, Alros' marriage must have put a big crimp in their plans -- whatever those plans may be. The baby is another obvious problem for them.

"And the failed attempt netted them nothing but more stringent security," Elspeth mused. "That must also be frustrating -- for them."

She looked pensive for a few moments. "The hardest part for us is that every time we find someone out, it's because they've tried to implement a plot. We're reacting to them, and we want it the other way around."

"But where do we look?" Freidal railed. "And what happens if we look too hard? If we start sowing distrust everywhere, we'll give our enemies a fertile field to till."

"Well," Elspeth told him, "I played a hunch, sending a loyal man north right after we heard that North Port was plotting against us. I just heard from my sources there that the man lasted less than a moon, before his head was on a pike in front of the palace main gate.

"There is fertile ground in North Port, I'm sure, because my sources say that there were about twenty-five heads there, including two of the leading merchants, a caravan master and half dozen other persons of some consequence in the county," Elspeth went on. "But my sources don't dare talk to anyone. No one even knows they are sending messages."

"I should send a couple of thousand men north and fix the problem right now," Freidal growled.

"You could, but what would we have afterwards? Another plot defeated and all those who could lead us further into the plots and treachery would be dead."

"Perhaps we can use that threat against them," Freidal suggested. "We let it be known for those who turn their coats against the traitors will be rewarded and well-protected."

Elspeth sighed. "What do you suppose we'd do for a man who came off the street with such an offer of help today, Freidal? We'd promise him riches and place a secure guard around him. No, we don't need to advertise. In any case, I'm afraid it's not enough."

"There are Khoograh's sons. We could arrest them," Freidal offered.

"No, that's back to breeding discontent. We have nothing but rumor and their father's demise to hold against them. They must know they are being watched -- and probably know we won't be able to do it forever."

"I hate being helpless!" Freidal said, his anger not even thinly veiled. "Each time I was wounded I would tell myself I'd be more careful next time, because it's really awful lying in a bed, unable to so much as scratch yourself. This is no different!"

"The final victory is going to go to the side that makes the fewest mistakes. We keep frustrating them and that's good. The problem with that though, is that they only have to succeed once in an assassination attempt, whereas we have to stop them all of the time."

Freidal looked at her and shook his head. "There are times, Elspeth, when I wonder if you are a sorcerer."

"Well, hold that thought, because I've been sitting here thinking about what I'd do in someone's shoes if I wanted the crown to land in my lap.

"Tell me, Freidal, how did the High King win his throne? King Xyl? How did Duke Tuck achieve a duchy?"

Freidal growled, "Might makes right!"

Elspeth rapped his wrist with her fingers. "No! If that was true, Alros would have set you aside. Hell, Xitki Quillan's father would have set your grandfather and father aside, and Quillan could have killed you in the first battle you fought.

"No, they were men who come along at a critical time and who promised salvation to the people around them. The people didn't always exactly rush to their banners, but enough did, enough to carry the day.

"So, they still have to kill us, but there aren't going to be a lot of deaths, and then they will stop attacking and one of your kin will be the chosen puppet. Except everyone will know why the deaths stopped and his life wouldn't be worth much, either.

"No, what I expect to happen is that when the deaths start, someone will take the fight back to the servants of our enemies, someone who appears to offer salvation, while resisting our enemies. He wins a few battles, and it looks even better. Then he 'puts down' a final plot, right after you and I, Alros and Denethon are dead, and it's the savior who is offered the crown; the protector of Zarthan!"

Freidal sat staring at her for a few heartbeats, then sighed. "You know, if I could, I'd rather you were in charge, than me. The people would never accept it, though."

Elspeth patted his cheek. "Husband, you need to learn how to think like a plotter. For instance, I could be the salvation of Zarthan, particularly if our child is a boy. I'd be regent for the next twenty years."

He looked at her and blinked. "Do you suppose they will accuse you of that?"

"The instant your heart stops beating," she told him confidently. "They'll have to scotch any attempt I make at the throne. Odds are, they'll tolerate Alros again, although by now I hope they realize she isn't going to be the pushover they must have thought the last time."

"So what do we do?"

"Like I said, we learn to think like plotters. What's a plotter's main stock in trade?"

"Treason and treachery!" Freidal answered quickly.

"Yes. And that predisposes them to think of everyone else around them as plotting to betray them as well, which is why we're having such a hard time getting far in our investigation. If you were a person who believed in plots here, plots there, might you believe that everyone thinks the same way?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Well, right now we have as enemies the plotters, the Northern Ruthani and King Xyl. Our greatest ally has to be their greatest foe: the High King -- because I can't help but think the plot is as much against Kalvan and Hostigos as it is against Zarthan and us.

"Last winter we had a meeting with Count Tellan, Tuck and Tanda. Like as not, we'll plan to do something similar this winter, if we're not in an active war. What would happen if, out in the plains, long before they got to the meeting, Count Tellan and whoever he was with were attacked by soldiers in Zarthani military garb?

"What if, at the same time, our party was attacked by soldiers wearing the High King's halberd-head? Treason by an ally wouldn't surprise anyone. Combine that with attacks on all or most of the signal posts, cutting our communications -- what would people think? On both sides?"

"That's an audacious plan," he told her. "It would require large numbers of soldiers, probably mercenaries, and critical timing."

"Mercenaries, or Ruthani dressed up as soldiers. Or both," Elspeth reminded him. "What we need to do is listen carefully, maybe make a few sounds like we didn't think the meeting last year was worth the time and trouble. It would be interesting to see who urges another meeting on us."

Freidal nodded, his eyes bright.

There was a loud knock on the door and Freidal went to see who it was. One of the Hostigi signal sergeants presented him with a piece of paper. "It's a long one, your highness," the soldier reported. "Even so, I'll wait just outside in case there's a reply."

Freidal started reading it as he went to sit next to Elspeth again. It was long, and he looked up at her. "We have made an error; we need to get an urgent message off to Duke Tuck."

"Why is that?"

"This morning, in the main market square in River City, one Ingolde, son of Talon, a younger son of a baron in Mountain Wall, pulled a pistol and attempted to bring it to bear on Count Quillan. Several market-goers saw the weapon and knocked it up, the bullet discharging safely into the air.

"The market crowd then proceeded to tear the man to pieces."

Elspeth grimaced. "Well, that's entirely to be expected. Of all of the counties in Zarthan, Xitki is the one who gets along best with his people and who always has."

"Yes, but Talon was married to a woman named Wenthea, who was sister to Grantia, who was married to Lady Inisa's father, the woman who died twenty some years ago in childbirth that brought Inisa into the world."

Elspeth slapped her forehead. "We never looked at Inisa's mother's family! It was so long ago! But Styphon was here then, wasn't he?"

"Yes. We need to message Tuck and tell him not to trust her."

Elspeth leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek, and patted his hand, like a doting grandmother whose grandson had just discovered that birds could fly.

"What?" Freidal asked.

"Tuck never trusted Lady Inisa and has had her watched since the beginning. That man would take any risk to avoid changing a baby! Lady Tanda trusted Inisa on our recommendation, but privately has told me that she's having Lady Inisa watched all of the time herself.

"I'm not sure I could use my baby as a lure in a case of treachery, but I wouldn't want to be Inisa if she is one of the plotters," Elspeth spelled it out for Freidal.

"There are plotters everywhere," Freidal said, sounding like he was despairing.

"They only seem to be numerous, because each time we find one it's someone close. They probably have minor underlings someplace, but probably not where we can easily lay our hands on them, and even if we did, odds are they wouldn't know anything important.

"No, this is what it's going to take, Freidal. Slow, patient investigation -- and making sure we follow all leads, even if they aren't immediately obvious."

"We need someone a lot cleverer than who we've got now, working on this investigation."

"I would offer up the name of Captain Landsruhl, the man who commanded that convoy to Outpost, the one with Noia along. He did well at the time and better since. He realizes how many mistakes he made, and has also come to realize that mistakes or not, he did as well as any man could. He does appear to learn from his mistakes, unlike Captain Babalion, who's handling things now."

Freidal nodded. "Yes, he'll be good. I agree. We'll have him in later and talk to him. Babalion can take the next convoy east." The husband and wife traded grins.

Judy stared at Shuria, a look of stunned surprise on her face. "How many?"

"There's a line of a thousand of King Xyl's men, about two miles up the road," the scout reported.

"And here I sit, with eighty-five soldiers, thirty-five of the Field Intelligence Unit and a section from the Heavy Weapons Company, another fifty men. I don't think it's a coincidence," Judy interjected bitterly.

Shuria grimaced. "My lady didn't let me finish. There are four more lines of soldiers at two hundred yard intervals behind that first line, plus two small field guns on each flank. Each line more or less the same as the first.

"My lady, I have sent two urgent messages to our rear guard and there has been no reply. I have to think that they are behind us as well. I have failed you, Countess!"

Judy looked around. They'd just passed through a small village of about thirty of the adobe buildings that passed for housing in this part of Mexico. They also combined as barns, storerooms and who knew what all. There were north-south running ridges a mile away, on either side of the main road.

With field guns the walls of the village would be a deadly trap, providing lethal shrapnel to add to those field gun's shot.