The Garden of Stones - By Mark T. Barnes Page 0,10
“Far-ad-din was mustering an army. He was in discussions with Seethe Sky Realms and their troupes. He was selling relics stolen from the Rōmarq—relics he was supposed to be safeguarding! He needed to be dealt with, and we dealt with him.”
“The Seethe believed this fight would be settled through Hamesaad,” Indris said. “They were prepared to abide by the outcomes of the trial of champions. With respect, I believe the Teshri were somewhat misinformed on certain of the key facts upon which they based their decision to depose Far-ad-din. One wonders how much of their decision was based in an ancient and oft-gnawed-on bigotry against the Seethe.”
“The traitor speaks when it should have breathed its last long before now,” Corajidin snapped. He leveled an accusing stare at Indris, who shrugged indifferently. “The whole point of us coming here was—”
“Not to commit to more violence than was necessary,” Ariskander interrupted. “As Arbiter of the Change it was my prerogative to set the terms and context of our engagement. This wasn’t supposed to be a cursed war!”
“It was what it was always going to be,” Kasraman offered with an elegant shrug. “The other Exalted Names of Shrīan came here to remove the last bastion of Seethe power in an Avān nation. Surely we all knew what the outcome would be once we took to the field?”
“My houreh have access to information useful to the Asrahn and the Teshri,” Ziaire said, her voice soft like silk. The Prime of the House of Pearl was suspected in some quarters as being Vashne’s chief intelligencer; the women and men who worked for her had ready access where many did not. “Satiated women and men love to murmur across pillows and skin. We hear a great many things. Yet of Far-ad-din’s supposed treachery, there were strangely few, if any, whispers at all. I find that odd, don’t you?”
“Far-ad-din never proved his innocence,” Corajidin insisted. “We were right to remove him from power.”
And your secret excavations in the R marq, discovered by Far-ad-din, who tried to put a stop to them, had nothing to do with your haste to end him, did it? Indris thought. What are you looking for, you old fox? More interestingly, what have you found in the muck and mire of lost empires?
“We need to find Far-ad-din.” Ziaire folded her hands in the wide sleeves of her silk over-robe.
“The marshes of the Rōmarq are treacherous,” Femensetri interjected. She looked to the Asrahn. “It’s easy to lose one’s way there. Anybody we send to find him would be in danger from Fenlings, marsh-puppeteers, dholes, and the Ancestors only know what else.”
“I’ll go,” Belamandris offered. The young warrior-poet stepped forward, the light of the ilhen crystals shining on his golden head. He looked at his father. “Give me a company of heavy Iphyri and I’ll find Far-ad-din and bring him back.”
“Alive?” Ziaire asked, at which Femensetri cackled. “I applaud your bravery, Belamandris, but allow me some skepticism as to your motives, given it was the Great House of Erebus that brought us all here.”
“In more ways than one,” Ariskander muttered. He pursed his lips. Glancing at Nehrun, he scowled, then looked to Indris. “Vashne, with your permission I’ll take a company of the Lion Guard and Nehrun. It should be enough, if we’re careful.”
“I don’t think—” Nehrun protested.
Vashne waved Nehrun’s objection away. “I appreciate the offer, Ariskander, but I’ll need you here to govern Amnon as the Arbiter of the Change until—”
“Vashne…Asrahn…” Corajidin stiffened, his face betraying his outrage.
“Corajidin?”
“With respect, you need somebody to bring this city and prefecture under control. I lead the only Great House with the military strength at hand for such a task.”
“What he says makes sense, Asrahn.” Nehrun’s voice was weak. Indris’s head snapped around in shock. Rosha looked as if she was willing to murder her brother. Ariskander scowled at his heir. “Though I love and respect my father, Amnon needs a stern hand now. My father brought only two companies of the Lion Guard, with slightly more in numbers of the Phoenix Army. Even with my personal guard company and Rosha’s Whitehorse Cataphracts, we still only number some eight hundred soldiers. Rahn-Corajidin, what’s the current fighting strength of your army?”
“Nehrun! Are you insane?” Rosha hissed. “How can you—”
“I have somewhere in the order of fifteen thousand Erebus troops at my disposal.” Corajidin’s smile was gloating. “Rahn-Kadarin fe Narseh also lent me another three thousand of the Sarat, her elite heavy infantry.”