Law of the Broken Earth(101)
“He has offended me,” Bertaud said. His voice had gone quiet and hard, with an undertone of ferocity nearly as dangerous as a griffin’s.
“Well, he has assuredly offended me!” snapped the king, and slammed a fist down without warning onto the nearest table. “My Niethe, my little girls, riding night and day through dangerous sloughs and along animal trails, because Kohorrian thinks if we are sufficiently distracted in the north, then he may make as free as he likes with the south! We shall find a way to sort out this trouble with the griffins, I trust we shall, and then we shall assuredly ride south and explain clearly to Kohorrian the depths of our offense.”
“May we find it so,” said Bertaud grimly.
Iaor nodded. “There is word that Linularinan forces are active west of the Delta as well, over toward Minas Ford and Minas Spring. Nevertheless, we believe that the greatest part of his ambition, whatever ill-conceived notion informs it, concerns the Delta itself. I should send you south—”
Bertaud opened his mouth, but then closed it again without speaking. Clearly he longed to take a fast horse and as many men as the king would give him and ride south as fast as he could go. But, thought Jos, even more clearly he knew that if the Wall above Niambe Lake shattered, he would need to be right here, right here, where the griffins must come through the narrow pass and pass by the lake. He could not possibly ride south, not on any account, not even if his pride were scored beyond bearing at this extraordinary Linularinan insult, not even if he had a wife and a dozen children in Tiefenauer and far less if his greatest hostage to the exigencies of war were a mere cousin, with which in any case the Lord of the Delta was reputedly well-endowed.
“So I am to gather you have no good word to bring me?” Iaor asked, regarding Bertaud narrowly. “Advise me, my old friend, and we shall consider what we may best do.”
Lord Bertaud took a slow breath. Another.
Jos wanted to say, You cannot possibly go south, only Bertaud would not likely welcome advice he knew already, nor Jos’s temerity in offering it. He said nothing.
“As you permit me,” Bertaud said at last. “Yes, send Niethe and the girls to Tiearanan. Then, my king, take what force you have gathered and ride south yourself. See to the Delta. Reprimand Kohorrian. Leave me a small force here. If the Wall breaks and the griffins come through the pass—and I think it likely will, and so they may well—in this exigency, my king, trust me to turn them, with such allies as I am able to persuade. Or if I cannot turn them, then nothing can, and as that is so, your armies will be better occupied elsewhere.”
From the king’s blank expression, this was not the advice he had anticipated. He met Bertaud’s eyes in silence. There was something between them, Jos guessed; something difficult of which this moment reminded them both. But neither man spoke of it. The king only asked at last, “Shall I trust your judgment in this? Do you trust your own judgment in this?”
“Yes,” said Bertaud, his tone flat. “As I beg you will, my king.”
“Ah.” The king glanced around at his maps, down at the nearest. Up again. He glanced questioningly at Jos.
“He does well enough with me,” Bertaud said. He offered no explanation, as he had offered none in all this tangled implication and half-truth.
However, the king asked for none. He only nodded and glanced again down at the map. Then he looked up again. “My generals”—he nodded right and left at the sober, quiet men who attended him—“have been gathering men this past day. They will be able to ride the day after tomorrow, or possibly the day after that. Perhaps with me, perhaps with you, perhaps with neither of us. I will wish to hear in more detail of what you have discovered regarding the Wall and the griffins; we will both wait for further news from the south. Then we will decide, in all good order, what we shall do.”
“My king, I can desire nothing but what you desire,” Lord Bertaud said formally, and bowed.
Jos was already certain that, whatever the king wanted and whatever he thought was important, the final decision would place Bertaud firmly in the path of any incursion of griffins through the northern pass. It was absolutely essential that the decision fall out that way, and so Lord Bertaud would say whatever he must, do whatever he must, to be certain it did.
But he was also certain that unless Kairaithin said and did whatever he had to, in order to ensure a private meeting between Lord Bertaud and Tastairiane, and quickly, quickly—before the Wall shattered—no good outcome was even vaguely possible, whatever men and the kings of men might arrange among themselves.