Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [31]
At this, I saw King Garald pause in his attempt to speak. He was keeping close watch on Saryon. The King knew, as well as I, that Smythe had made a mistake. His vaunted charm—be it of magical origin or born in his blood—would not cover his error. He would have done much better to have read my books, not left his research to underlings. He would have then known the nature of the man with whom he dealt.
Saryon’s face grew shadowed.
But if King Garald thought that he had gained a victory by his enemy’s mistake, he, too, was mistaken. I knew my master’s decision, even before he spoke it. I, alone in that room, was not surprised.
Saryon rose to his feet. His gaze encompassed all three men. His voice was rebuking.
“Joram and his wife and child live alone on Thimhallan now. They are under the protection of Earth Forces. They are not to be hounded, or bothered, or mistreated in any way. That is the law.” He turned to Kevon Smythe. “You speak very glibly of redemption, sir. Redemption is the Almin’s province. He alone will judge Joram, not you, not me, not the King, nor any other mortal!”
Saryon took a step backward, raised his head, regarded them all with a gaze that was steady and unwavering. “I have made my decision. I made it last night. I will not go to Joram. I will not be part of any attempt to trick him into revealing the whereabouts of the Darksword. He has suffered enough. Let him live out the remainder of his days in peace.”
The three men were bitter enemies, yet they had the same desire. They glanced at each other.
Kevon Smythe spoke. “The Hch’nyv will not permit Joram to live in peace.”
“They will slay him,” General Boris said, “as they have already slain tens of thousands of our people. All the outposts that remain in our system are being evacuated, their people brought back to Earth for protection. Our fleet is too decimated to be divided. Here, on Earth, we will make our final stand against the invaders.”
Saryon regarded them gravely, troubled. “I had not heard the situation was that critical.”
Garald sighed. “We have made a mistake with you, Father. We have put our worst argument first and we have done it badly. Now you don’t trust us, and I can’t say that I blame you. But very few people on Earth know just how desperate the situation is. We want to keep it that way, for as long as possible.”
“The panic that would follow, the damage it would do our cause, is incalculable,” said the General. “We need troops prepared to fight the enemy, not used to quell riots in the streets.”
“What you have heard here, Father,” said Kevon Smythe, “you must not repeat, except to one person, and that is Joram. You may tell him the truth, if only to make him understand the danger. Then it is my hope and my prayer, Father, that he will relinquish the Darksword willingly—to whomever he chooses. We are fighting for the same cause, after all.”
He looked like a saint, in his self-sacrificing humility, and the King and General came off shabbily by contrast. Yet the charm, once dispelled, could not be recast.
Saryon sank down in his chair. He looked ill from worry and anxiety. It wasn’t proper etiquette or protocol, but I was past caring. Ignoring the three, I went to Saryon and, leaning over his chair, asked him with a sign if I should bring him some tea.
He smiled at me and thanked me, shook his head no. He kept his hand on mine, however, indicating that I was to remain at his side. He sat and thought a long time, in distraught, unhappy silence.
The King and General returned to their seats. Smythe had not left his. All three tried to look sympathetic, but they could none of them hide an air of smugness. They were certain they had won.
At length, Saryon raised his head. “I will go to Joram,” he said quietly. “I will tell him what you have told me. I will warn him that he and his family are in danger and that they should evacuate to Earth. I will say nothing to him of the Darksword. If he brings it with him, you may each go to him and present your own need. If he does not, then you may each go to Thimhallan