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CHAPTER 12

      KING DUR was dreaming of killing a falcon. First he caught it and broke its wings. Then he stared at it long and hard, hoping to see tears in its fierce, unforgiving eyes. When it would not yield, he put its head into his mouth and crushed it slowly between his teeth. Ah. The little bones crunching . . .

      Hard to wake and leave such dreams.

      Opening his eyes, he saw the embroidered gauze curtains of his bed. He lay between silk sheets on the softest of down. The sun was shut out of the room by tapestries. Velvet-footed servants waited patiently for him to wake. Let them wait. He was still savoring the dream.

      Falcon — she was really out there. He closed his eyes again and sent his thoughts out, searching for a spark in the great darkness. Seeking the light that emanated from her mind.

      With a thrill of excitement he found her. She was deep in unguarded slumber, and . . . THERE! He struck at her, and the brightness quivered as she woke. He could see her rising out of sleep, sweating, her eyes like dull gold coins, flattened and dark from the shock of his touch.

      Waking, she slipped from his grasp and was gone.

      "Bah! Still too far away. But I've found her — I know for certain she's alive."

      He considered the momentary contact. "Distant. Still to the north? Yes, definitely. And Hawk is in the southern mountains. Excellent. She'll have to come past Kingsport to join him. If she flies, I'll snatch her out of the air. And if she tries to elude me by coming on foot, my Arm will catch her along the way. He'll chain her up and drag her to the palace. In chains — "

      Dur's heart was beating fast; he was remembering his dream and the feel of his teeth closing on those fragile bones. "She'll kneel at my feet, the chains weighing down her narrow wrists . . ."

      He sat up. He must alert his Arm. No blundering. And now that he thought of it — where was Arm? Searching again, Dur found a wavering light that reflected his own image like a mirror. He struck it with a dagger of thought, and Arm jolted into consciousness.

      "How dare you sleep when you're on my business! She's close by you, headed south. GO AND FIND HER!" he shouted into Arm's mind.

      "I-I will, Majesty." Dur could just catch the feeble answer.

      "Do it NOW!"

      Releasing Arm, the king stretched luxuriously. "He'll bring her back. And I'll hurt her for a long time. And then Hawk will come after her . . . ."

      Dur's hands closed abruptly, and his teeth came together with an audible click. "And I'll kill him at last. How dared he wear the crown of Avianne. With all of them cheering him. Loving him. Eagleking was a doddering fool to leave him the kingdom — I had as much right to the Crown as he did. More. I was the one with the strength to take it!"

      Good King Hawk? Not now. I'll put my hand against his neck and drink him like water from a cup. His strength will flow into me. And I'll feel so . . .

      The thought of killing Hawk filled Dur with excitement. He flung aside the bed curtains. "Attend me!"

      Servants fluttered toward him.

      "I've important things to do — a war to commence. Fetch my spies. Call my counselors. Get Lord Bravo and General Tenmen and being them in here. And . . . I'll have a nice, tender fowl for breakfast."

      The footmen scuttled off, frantic to do his bidding. They feared him. Dur smiled; they were right to fear him.

      Rising, he allowed his body servants to wash him and dress him in a heavy satin robe with gold lace on the cuffs.

      They brushed his hair, painted his face, perfumed him.

      A footman returned to murmur that the gentlemen whose presence the king had required were at the door. Dur nodded regally. "Bring my breakfast. They can attend me as I eat."

      Various gold and crystal dishes were brought on a gold tray. Everything smelled delicious. Dur settled among his cushions and picked up knife and fork. "They may enter now."

      First came the young bloods, painted and coiffed as elaborately as Dur himself. Old General Tenmen followed, accompanied by several of his trusted men. After them came Gorrel, the Supply Master, and last of all old Flint, whose treasure was financing this new war.

      His mouth full of breakfast, Dur scowled at them. "Old fools and shallow puppies," he thought. "No wonder we lost all those battles in Berachan. Well, this time they'll have an enemy they can conquer. Even blockheads like these should be able to take Ezzeen."

      "Well Gentlemen?" Seeing him frown, several of the younger men took a step or two backward. The chains on their boots made an agreeable metallic sound.

      General Tenmen, however, was ready. "We found another two hundred country fellows up in the northern highlands, Majesty. We pressed them into service, issued them spears and armor, and their training is in progress."

      King Dur gave him a cold stare. "Two hundred men? Two!" His tone was so ferocious that the old man flinched.

      Dur's lip curled — weakling.

      Yet the general had been a strong man once. Back in the days when Dur had been merely the King's Cousin, he'd invited Tenmen (not a general then) to go hunting with him. "He hunted bear, and I hunted him," Dur thought with chill amusement, "He'd boasted he had the strength of ten, but he wasn't strong enough to resist me. I squeezed the juice out of him."

      Dur cut a bite of fowl with his gold knife and popped it into his mouth. "Two hundred recruits is not enough."

      Tenmen pulled at his beard. "Our last sweep was only a few months ago, Majesty. Every able-bodied male over the age of thirteen is now under arms. Any younger, and they're too soft."

      "No softer than your head," Dur snarled. "In twenty days, I want another thousand troops on the Ezzeen borders. No — fifteen hundred. I don't care where you get them. Call up the veterans — cripples and blind men if you have to. Why are they lounging about the country when I need soldiers?"

      He pushed back the tray with a violent gesture, and a serving man whisked it off the bed. Another brought hot, scented cloths for his hands. No longer encumbered, Dur leaned forward.

      "Call in my spies," he called to the footmen. "I want my counselors to hear their news."

      A strange group, Dur's spies — a peddler and his boy, a shabby lounger, a prim clerk, a decent-looking woman of middle age. At a nod from the king, the peddler said, "I've been all the way to Sha-Sa'a, on the southern coast, and if there's an army in Ezzeen, I can't find it. There's no militia, no troops of any kind. You can't even buy a sword in the city markets."

      "It's true," the clerk nodded. "Nobody's buys or sells weapons — but they do an astonishing amount of trade in other goods. Sha-Sa'a is a great port, and they ship out tiles from Ez-est, glassware from Hassa-Es, goldware, grain — and what the ships bring back would astonish you. Fabrics, jewels, tools — amazing stuff, Majesty. You've never seen anything like it. They're richer than we ever dreamed."

      "And they're soft," the woman said. "I've been a nursemaid in Sso'osso this past year, and I can tell you that even the Ezzemen children don't play at war. From the cradle, they're taught soft speaking, soft walking, peaceable behavior. They don't know how to fight."

      The lounger nodded. "A handful of armed men could take the whole country — they can't protect themselves at all."

      "Then let's start today," Bravo cried eagerly. "If the Snakes won't fight for their riches — we will!"

      Gorrel rubbed his hands, an oily smile lighting up his features. "We've weapons enough to take the whole country."

      While the young bloods were nodding, General Tenmen's eyes flickered with dismay. "Majesty, after our losses last year, three quarters of the men can barely handle a sword. The troops on the Ezzeen border are only half-trained. Give me till the end of summer to . . ."

      "You heard the spies, General. The Snakes have no weapons and no army." King Dur smiled. "We'll gobble them up, never fear."

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