Viscount of Adrilankha 02 - The Lord of Castle Black - Khavren Romances 03 by Steven Brust

Author:Steven Brust
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780312855826
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-01-18T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter the Fifty-First

How Our Friends Prepared for Battle,

With Some Discussion of How Conversations

Can Be Overheard, and How This Might Lead

To the Transmission of Significant Messages

While Fentor attempts to explain to Morrolan certain principles of military science—principles which, we fear, could only interest a small fraction of our readers—we will turn our attention to a place some fifteen miles away—because even as Morrolan and Fentor were looking east, so Zerika and Khaavren were looking west.

“I confess,” Zerika was saying, “that I should feel better if I knew how many of them there were.”

“Well,” said Khaavren. “Since you bring that up, so would I. It seems clear that those we pursue have either joined with a larger army, or are about to do so. I, like you, wish to know which it is, as well as the size and precise disposition of this larger army which is, at this moment, only theoretical.”

“Is there a way to learn?”

“I could go there.”

“I should rather you send someone. I wish you to stay nearby in order that I might have your advice.”

“What advice can I give without knowing more about our enemy?”

“As to that, I do not know. But send someone else.”

“Very well.” Khaavren frowned, considered, and then gave instructions to Pel and Kytraan, who bowed and departed without comment. Khaavren turned to Zerika and said, “Well?”

“Yes?”

“You wished my advice?”

Zerika shook her head. “How, you do not?”

“In fact, Captain, what I wish for is your companionship. I find that having you nearby reassures me.”

Khaavren clenched his teeth severely against the display of any emotion, and gave the sort of grunt that he had been accustomed to make when, as Captain of the Phoenix Guard in what he thought of as his “old life,” the Emperor had uttered some enormity to which he, Khaavren, had been unable to make any response that was both honest and respectful.

Zerika interpreted this grunt correctly and made the only possible response—that is to say, none at all. In this, her actions were as appropriate to her station as Khaavren’s were appropriate to his. At this point, the reader may have observed that, in many ways, Zerika had fallen instantly into her rôle—she was acting more Imperial, one might say, with each passing day. Was this because she came from the House of the Phoenix, and, what is more, from a line that had produced many Emperors? Was it a chance matter of character? Was it from certain training she had received, perhaps unknowingly, during her youth?

Alas, this is not a question the historian can answer. We know how she acted, because all of the records are clear on this matter, as well as countless letters and journals that speak of interactions with her. But we cannot know why it is, and moreover, we must look with great suspicion upon anyone who claims to such knowledge.

An hour or two later, Pel and Kytraan returned and presented themselves, saying, “We beg permission to report on our mission.”

Khaavren nodded, and Zerika said, “I should like nothing better.

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