‘Javelins would be quite all right,’ Norkan replied. ‘I’ve seen the Atans practising with them.’
Betuana spoke to him rapidly and at some length.
‘Her Majesty’s asked me to translate in narrative,’ Norkan told them. ‘The sun is well up, and she knows you should be on the road. Oscagne tells me that you’re planning to take the road leading to Lebas in Tamul proper. Atan society’s organised along clan lines, and each clan has its own territory. You’ll be passed along from clan to clan as you ride east. It’s a breach of etiquette for one clan to intrude on the territory of another, and breaches of etiquette are avoided at all costs here in Atan.’
‘I wonder why,’ Stragen murmured.
‘Oscagne,’ Norkan said then, ‘as soon as you reach civilisation, send me a score or so of imperial messengers with fast horses. Her Majesty wants to keep in close contact with Matherion during the crisis.’
‘Very good idea,’ Oscagne agreed.
Then Betuana rose, towering over all of them. She affectionately embraced Ehlana and then Mirtai, clearly indicating that it was time for them to continue their journey eastward.
‘I will cherish the memory of this visit, dear Betuana,’ Ehlana told her.
‘And I will as well, dearly-loved sister-queen,’ Betuana replied in almost flawless Elenic.
Ehlana smiled. ‘I wondered how long you were going to hide your understanding of our language, Betuana,’ she said.
‘You knew?’ Betuana seemed surprised.
Ehlana nodded. ‘It’s very hard to keep your face and your eyes from revealing your understanding while you’re waiting for the translation. Why do you keep your knowledge of Elenic a secret?’
‘The time the translator takes to convert your words into human speech gives me time to consider my reply,’ Betuana shrugged.
‘That’s a very useful tactic,’ Ehlana said admiringly. ‘I wish I could use it in Eosia, but everybody there speaks Elenic, so I couldn’t really get away with it.’
‘Bandage your ears,’ Ulath suggested.
‘Does he have to do that?’ Ehlana complained to Sparhawk.
‘It’s only a suggestion, your Majesty,’ Ulath shrugged. ‘Pretend to be deaf and have some people around to wiggle their fingers at you as if they were translating.’
She stared at him. ‘That’s absurd, Ulath. Do you have any idea of how awkward and inconvenient that would be?’
‘I just said it was a suggestion, your Majesty,’ he said mildly. ‘I didn’t say it was a good one.’
Following a formal farewell which was once again primarily for Mirtai’s benefit, the queen and her party rode eastward out of Atana along the Lebas road. Once they were clear of the city, Oscagne, who had insisted on riding a horse that day, suggested to Sparhawk, Stragen and Vanion that they ride forward to confer with the other knights. They found them near the head of the column. Tynian was entertaining them with a much-embellished account of a probably imaginary amorous adventure.
‘What’s afoot?’ Kalten asked when Sparhawk and the others joined them.
‘Sparhawk and I conferred with Sephrenia and Zalasta last night,’ Vanion replied. ‘We thought we might share the fruits of our discussions – out of Ehlana’s hearing.’
‘That sounds ominous,’ the blond Pandion observed.
‘Not entirely,’ Vanion smiled. ‘Our conclusions are still a bit tenuous, and there’s no point in alarming the queen until we’re a bit more certain.’
‘Then there is something to be alarmed about, isn’t there, Lord Vanion?’ Talen asked.
‘There’s always something to be alarmed about,’ Khalad told his brother.
‘We’ve sort of concluded that we’re facing a God,’ Vanion told them. ‘I’m sure you’ve all more or less worked that out for yourselves.’
‘Did you really have to invite me to come along this time, Sparhawk?’ Kalten complained. ‘I’m not very good at dealing with Gods.’
‘Who is?’
‘You weren’t so bad at Zemoch.’
‘Luck, probably.’
‘This is the way our reasoning went,’ Vanion continued. ‘You’ve been seeing that shadow again, and the cloud. On the surface at least, they seem to be divine manifestations, and these armies out of the past – the Lamorks and the Cyrgai – couldn’t have been raised by a mortal. Zalasta told us that he’d tried it once and that it all fell apart on him. If he can’t do it, we can be fairly sure that nobody else can either.’
‘Logical,’ Bevier approved.
‘Thank you. Now then, the Trolls all left Thalesia a while back, and they’ve started to show up here in Atan. We more or less agreed that they wouldn’t have done that unless they’d been commanded to by someone they’d obey. Couple that fact with the shadow, and it seems to point at the Troll-Gods. Sephrenia’s not positive that they’re permanently locked inside Bhelliom, so we more or less have to accept the fact that they’ve somehow managed to escape.’
‘This isn’t going to be one of the good stories, I gather,’ Talen said glumly.
‘It is a bit gloomy, isn’t it?’ Tynian agreed.
Vanion raised one hand. ‘It gets worse,’ he told them. ‘We sort of agreed that all of this plotting involving ancient heroes, rabid nationalism and the like is somewhat beyond the capability of the Troll-Gods. It’s not likely that they’d have a very sophisticated concept of politics, so I think we’ll have to consider the possibility of an alliance of some kind. Someone – either human or immortal – is taking care of the politics, and the Troll-Gods are providing the muscle. They command the Trolls, and they can raise these figures from the grave.’
‘They’re being used?’ Ulath suggested.
‘So it would seem.’
‘It doesn’t wash, Lord Vanion,’ the Thalesian said bluntly.
‘How so?’
‘What’s in it for the Trolls? Why would the Troll-Gods ally themselves with somebody else if there weren’t any benefits to the Trolls to come out of the arrangement? The Trolls can’t rule the world, because they can’t come down out of the mountains.’
‘Why not?’ Berit asked him.
‘Their fur – and those thick hides of theirs. They have to stay where it’s cool. If you put a Troll out in the summer sun for two days, he’ll die. Their bodies are built to keep the heat in, not to get rid of it.’
‘That is a fairly serious flaw in your theory, Lord Vanion,’ Oscagne agreed.
‘I think I might be able to suggest a solution,’ Stragen told them. ‘Our enemy – or enemies – want to re-arrange the world, right?’
‘Well, at least the top part of it,’ Tynian amended. ‘Nobody I know of has ever suggested turning it all the way upside down and putting the peasantry in charge.’
‘Maybe that comes later,’ Stragen smiled. ‘Our nameless friend out there wants to change the world, but he doesn’t have quite enough power to pull it off by himself. He needs the power of the Troll-Gods to make it work, but what could he offer the Trolls in exchange for their help? What do the Trolls really want?’
‘Thalesia,’ Ulath replied moodily.
‘Precisely. Wouldn’t the Troll-Gods leap at an opportunity to wipe out the Elenes and Styrics in Thalesia and return total possession of the peninsula to the Trolls? If someone’s come up with a way to expel the Younger Styric Gods – or at least claims he has – wouldn’t that be fairly enticing to the Troll-Gods? It was the Younger Gods who dispossessed them in the first place, and that’s why they had to go hide. This is pure speculation, of course, but let’s say this friend of ours came up with a way to free the Troll-Gods. Then he offered an alliance, promising to drive the Elenes and Styrics out of Thalesia – and possibly the north coasts of both continents as well – in exchange for the help he needs. The Trolls get the north, and our friend gets the rest of the world. If I were a Troll, that would sound like a very attractive bargain, wouldn’t you say?’
