[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
home that she would die before winter. They had tried to kill her in the
sanctuary. Two people she loved had been slain there, for her.
She was her father's daughter. Gisel lifted her chin and said hardily,
'Indeed, my lord Emperor? Sarantine Fire? Or just a knife in the night for me?
A small price to pay for such resounding glory, isn't it? A fealty oath!
Tribute, advisers? Religious and military?
Great Jad be praised! The poets will sing and the years resound with the
splendour of it. How could you refuse such glory?'
A rigid silence followed. Valerius's expression changed, only a little, but
watching the grey eyes Gisel understood how people might fear this man. She
could hear the crackle of the fire in the stillness.
It was Alixana, predictably, who dared speak. 'You are bested, love,' she said
lightly. 'She is too clever for you. Now I understand why you won't cast me
aside to marry her, or even properly receive her at court.'
Someone made a choking sound. Gisel swallowed, hard.
Valerius turned to his wife.
He said nothing, but his expression changed yet again, became odd now,
strangely intimate. And a moment later it was Alixana who coloured a little
and then looked down.
'I see,' she said quietly. 'I hadn't actually thought ...' She cleared her
throat, fingered the necklace she wore. 'That wasn't . .
. necessary,' she murmured, still looking down. 'I am not so fragile as that.
My lord.'
Gisel had no idea what this meant, suspected no one else did. An intensely
private exchange in a public space. She looked from one to the other again and
then-quite suddenly-she did understand. Was sure of it.
Things were not what she had taken them to be.
She hadn't been invited to the Imperial Precinct before tonight, not because
of negotiations with the usurpers in Varena or any rigidities of protocol, but
because the Emperor Valerius was shielding his wife from Gisel's youthful
presence and what-in purely formal terms-it
meant, or could mean.
They all knew there was a way to simplify this reconquest of the
Page 80
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Empire s homeland. She wasn't the only one who had seen it, sending an artisan
on the long journey here with a private message. The logic, the sense, of a
marriage was overwhelming. And the husband had been overriding the Emperor.
Amazingly.
Which meant, if she was right in this sudden line of thought, that she had
been admitted here now, tonight, only because . . . because a different
decision had now been made.
Spring was coming. Was here, in fact. She took a breath.
'You are invading us, aren't you?' she said flatly.
Valerius of Sarantium turned from his wife to look at Gisel. His expression
grave as a cleric's again, thoughtful as an academician, he said simply, 'Yes,
in fact, we are. In your name and the god's. I
trust you will approve?'
He wasn't really asking, of course. He was telling her. And not just her.
Gisel heard, almost felt a ripple pass through the small, luxurious room as
men shifted where they stood or sat. The
Strategos's nostrils actually flared, like a racehorse's hearing the trumpet.
He had surmised, anticipated, but had not known. Until now.
She understood. This was the moment of telling that Valerius had just chosen,
moving with the moment, the mood, her own arrival here. Or perhaps this entire
evening of music among intimates on the trembling brink of springtime had been
arranged to achieve this instant, with none of the others knowing, not even
his wife. A man who pulled hidden strings, made others dance for his needs, or
die.
She looked at Alixana and found the other woman's steady gaze waiting for
hers. Gisel, gazing into those depths, imagining what those dark eves could do
to a man or a certain kind of woman, understood something else, entirely
unexpected: improbable as it was, she had an ally here, someone else who also
wanted to find a way to guide them all around this invasion and what it
portended. Not that it seemed to matter.
'The Emperor is to be congratulated,' a third woman's voice interjected,
Styliane's tone cool as the night wind outside. 'It seems his taxation
officers have been more diligent than rumour suggests. It is a miracle of the
god and his regent upon earth that adequate funds for an invasion are in the
treasury after all.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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home that she would die before winter. They had tried to kill her in the
sanctuary. Two people she loved had been slain there, for her.
She was her father's daughter. Gisel lifted her chin and said hardily,
'Indeed, my lord Emperor? Sarantine Fire? Or just a knife in the night for me?
A small price to pay for such resounding glory, isn't it? A fealty oath!
Tribute, advisers? Religious and military?
Great Jad be praised! The poets will sing and the years resound with the
splendour of it. How could you refuse such glory?'
A rigid silence followed. Valerius's expression changed, only a little, but
watching the grey eyes Gisel understood how people might fear this man. She
could hear the crackle of the fire in the stillness.
It was Alixana, predictably, who dared speak. 'You are bested, love,' she said
lightly. 'She is too clever for you. Now I understand why you won't cast me
aside to marry her, or even properly receive her at court.'
Someone made a choking sound. Gisel swallowed, hard.
Valerius turned to his wife.
He said nothing, but his expression changed yet again, became odd now,
strangely intimate. And a moment later it was Alixana who coloured a little
and then looked down.
'I see,' she said quietly. 'I hadn't actually thought ...' She cleared her
throat, fingered the necklace she wore. 'That wasn't . .
. necessary,' she murmured, still looking down. 'I am not so fragile as that.
My lord.'
Gisel had no idea what this meant, suspected no one else did. An intensely
private exchange in a public space. She looked from one to the other again and
then-quite suddenly-she did understand. Was sure of it.
Things were not what she had taken them to be.
She hadn't been invited to the Imperial Precinct before tonight, not because
of negotiations with the usurpers in Varena or any rigidities of protocol, but
because the Emperor Valerius was shielding his wife from Gisel's youthful
presence and what-in purely formal terms-it
meant, or could mean.
They all knew there was a way to simplify this reconquest of the
Page 80
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Empire s homeland. She wasn't the only one who had seen it, sending an artisan
on the long journey here with a private message. The logic, the sense, of a
marriage was overwhelming. And the husband had been overriding the Emperor.
Amazingly.
Which meant, if she was right in this sudden line of thought, that she had
been admitted here now, tonight, only because . . . because a different
decision had now been made.
Spring was coming. Was here, in fact. She took a breath.
'You are invading us, aren't you?' she said flatly.
Valerius of Sarantium turned from his wife to look at Gisel. His expression
grave as a cleric's again, thoughtful as an academician, he said simply, 'Yes,
in fact, we are. In your name and the god's. I
trust you will approve?'
He wasn't really asking, of course. He was telling her. And not just her.
Gisel heard, almost felt a ripple pass through the small, luxurious room as
men shifted where they stood or sat. The
Strategos's nostrils actually flared, like a racehorse's hearing the trumpet.
He had surmised, anticipated, but had not known. Until now.
She understood. This was the moment of telling that Valerius had just chosen,
moving with the moment, the mood, her own arrival here. Or perhaps this entire
evening of music among intimates on the trembling brink of springtime had been
arranged to achieve this instant, with none of the others knowing, not even
his wife. A man who pulled hidden strings, made others dance for his needs, or
die.
She looked at Alixana and found the other woman's steady gaze waiting for
hers. Gisel, gazing into those depths, imagining what those dark eves could do
to a man or a certain kind of woman, understood something else, entirely
unexpected: improbable as it was, she had an ally here, someone else who also
wanted to find a way to guide them all around this invasion and what it
portended. Not that it seemed to matter.
'The Emperor is to be congratulated,' a third woman's voice interjected,
Styliane's tone cool as the night wind outside. 'It seems his taxation
officers have been more diligent than rumour suggests. It is a miracle of the
god and his regent upon earth that adequate funds for an invasion are in the
treasury after all.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]