"What do you mean--trouble elsewhere?" asked Durakkon. "Why should there be any trouble elsewhere?"
"I'm not entirely happy about Urtah," said Kembri. "You'd have thought this last attempt of Karaat's would have taught him a lesson, wouldn't you--made them realize who their friends are? But according to the reports I'm getting, half of them are sorry Karnat didn't succeed. I don't know how Sendekar sees it, but I certainly wouldn't want to make an attack into Suba with the Urtans behind me in their present state of mind."
"But the old High Baron--he's reliable enough, surely? He always has been."
"Yes, sir. He wouldn't want rebellion and of course he's out to stop Urtah provoking us too far. But all the same, he signed the letter they've just sent us about Bayub-Otal. He and Eud-Ecachlon; both of them signed it."
"What does it say?" asked Durakkon. (It should, he felt inwardly, have been sent to him personally.)
"It asks for the release of Bayub-Otal on their guarantee that he'll give no further trouble; or failing that, that we should spare his life while they come and talk to us about it."
"It's quite understandable that the old High Baron should send a letter like that," said Durakkon.
"Bayub-Otal's his son by the only woman he ever loved."
"Oh, I know that," replied Kembri, impatience and disrespect once more creeping into his tone, as it always did after a short time with Durakkon. "But to ask that of us he must be going senile. Bayub-Otal's as guilty as he can be of deliberate, premeditated treason against Bekla. If we don't execute him we can never execute anyone again."
"Then why haven't you executed him already?" asked Durakkon.
"Because I've stood the thing on its head to turn it to our advantage," answered Kembri. "I've had a reply prepared for you to sign, sir, which says that we'll spare his life for the moment--keeping him in Dari-Paltesh, of course--just as long as we can feel sure of the loyalty of Urtah. So there he'll stay until further notice--unless, in-deed, we decide to bring him up to Bekla. He's our best hostage as long as the old man's alive. Whether Eud-Ecachlon'll feel the same when he succeeds his father is another matter."
They had drawn almost level with the Tower of Sel-Dolad, and Durakkon stopped for a moment, looking down towards a low, extensive, flat-roofed building lying just south of the tower and abutting the ramparts themselves.
"What's that place?" he asked. "Do you know?"
"It's a depot for hides and leather, sir," replied Elvair-ka-Virrion. "I was there myself with my quartermaster yesterday, picking up a bit more stuff for our trip to Chalcon. A man called N'Kasit rents it from the temple."
"There's access to the ramparts from there, at a pinch, isn't there?" said Durakkon. "Anyone who climbed up would only have to go a short way along these walls to get into the upper city."
"I know," replied Kembri. "It's the only place like that in the whole of Bekla, though. I've sometimes thought of having it pulled down, but it's uncommonly solid, and it makes an excellent depot; we wouldn't find another half so good. I've talked it over, actually, with the castellan, and we agreed that the best thing would be to keep a sentry here all the time and leave it at that. Anyway," he resumed, turning away to continue their walk, "so much for Urtah and Bayub-Otal. At least if they're no help I doubt they'll be any hindrance to us for the time being."
To be told that something had already been considered and a decision reached was usually enough for Durakkon, who when it came to detail was as mentally lazy as many other idealistic people with high principles. He asserted himself by standing still, waiting for Kembri and Elvair-ka-Virrion to come back to him, and then raising a fresh subject.
"Chalcon," he said to Elvair-ka-Virrion. "You mean to lead the expeditionary force there yourself, in person?"
"Yes, sir," replied Elvair-ka-Virrion. "In fact, I'm as good as ready to leave."
"It won't be an easy task," said Durakkon, "not in that kind of country; and of course Erketlis and his people know it inside out."
"Oh, I've already thought of that, sir," said Elvair-ka-Virrion. "I've drafted half-a-dozen reliable men from Chalcon into the force. They know the country every bit as well as Erketlis himself."
"You're confident, then?" asked Durakkon, with a smiling, rather avuncular manner. He did not altogether dislike Elvair-ka-Virrion, partly on account of his good looks and style, and partly on account of the confident energy and youthful exuberance he brought to whatever he took in hand, from giving a banquet to raising a regiment. "Dear me, I wish I could still run upstairs like that!" he had said to him one day, after Elvair-ka-Virrion, returning from a hunting expedition, had dashed two steps at a time up the main staircase of the Barons' Palace to greet him.
"I've got the finest body of men in the empire, sir," replied Elvair-ka-Virrion. "I'd lead them into the Streels of Urtah!"
"Quiet!" said Kembri quickly. "Don't talk like that, Elvair: I don't care to hear that sort of thing."
Durakkon, with pursed lips, looked away as though nothing had been said; and after a few moments Elvair-ka-Virrion, abashed at his unfortunate lapse but recovering himself, continued, "I'm quite sure, sir, that with the quality of men I've got, we'll be able to drive right through Chalcon and make it impossible for Erketlis to maintain any sort of armed force there: and he won't be able to get away to Ikat or Sarkid. Somewhere or other we'll be bound to encounter him and destroy him. I don't know whether he'll be looking for a battle, but I certainly shall."
Durakkon smiled indulgently but encouragingly. "Well, it all sounds excellent, young man. You don't think perhaps he ought to have someone a little more experienced with him?" he said, turning to Kembri.
"I think he'll do very well on his own, sir," answered Kembri.
For the Lord General's purposes it was important that his son should return to Bekla a successful leader in his own right--if possible a public hero. His plans for the future required not only followers whom he could control and trust absolutely, but also that they should command popular support. Elvair-ka-Virrion was well-liked in Bekla, but in the eyes of the people he was still no more than a young hopeful who had yet to make a name for himself. The time and opportunity were now at hand.
"When do you leave?" asked Durakkon at length. "Is that decided?"
"The day after tomorrow, sir," said Elvair-ka-Virrion. "We ought to reach Thettit in three-and-a-half days quite comfortably. A day's rest, and then straight into Chalcon. Back in two months," he added, looking round at the High Baron with a light-hearted grin.
"That will be," said Kembri pausingly, "that will be a little time before--or should I say in good time for?--the acclamation of the new Sacred Queen." As Durakkon said nothing he went on, "That's going to be--well, an important business, isn't it? I'm sure you're as anxious as I am, sir--as we all are--to see it turn out--er--in the right way."
The sun had dropped behind the hills and dusk was rapidly falling. Already lamps were beginning to shine out in the city below. Durakkon turned about and they began pacing back along the wall, now seeing before them the majestic front of the Barons' Palace crowning the Leopard Hill with its ranks of slender spires.
Durakkon walked on in silence, as though awaiting something more. At length, however, as the Lord General did not continue, he said, "I think you'd better tell me straight out, Kembri, what it is you have in mind."
"I, sir?" answered the Lord General. "I've nothing whatever in mind but what's right and traditional: the choosing of a new Sacred Queen by popular acclaim. I merely said I hoped it would turn out well."
"Don't try to make a fool of me!" retorted Durakkon angrily. "I want to know whether you mean to try to have Fornis acclaimed for a third reign and if not, whether you've got any other woman in mind."
"Well, do you think Fornis is likely to be acclaimed for a third reign, sir?" asked Kembri.
"No, I don't," replied Durakkon. "A woman well over thirty. Even a second reign's something that's never been known before: to try to bring about a third reign wou
ld be disastrous--utter folly. The people have some genuine religious faith left, if you haven't, and they'd see k as virtually provoking the gods to lay waste the city."
"I agree, sir," said Kembri. "So who'd be best? Not to mince words, we need a Sacred Queen we can rely on."
"One you can control, you mean, Kembri?"
"I didn't say that, sir. I said one we can rely on, in these difficult times, not to start going her own way or getting up to anything behind our backs. The girl must be beautiful, of course--the people regard that as no more than what's due to the god--and ideally she ought to be someone who already commands wide popularity in the lower city as well as the upper."