Sorceress of Darshiva

on to you. I guess you're supposed to decide whether to tell Javelin or not."
    "How very kind of her," Porenn said drily. "Now they want me to keep secrets from the chief of my own intelligence service."
    Vella's eyes twinkled. "Liselle's in a kind of difficult situation, Porenn," she said. "I know that I drink too much and I swear a lot. That makes people think that I'm stupid, but I'm not. Nadrak women know the world, and I have very good eyes. I didn't actually catch them at it, but I'd be willing to wager half the money I'll get when Yarblek sells me that Silk and Liselle are keeping company."
    "Vella!"
    "I couldn't prove it, Porenn, but I know what I saw." The Nadrak girl sniffed at her leather vest and made a sour face. "If it's not too much trouble, I would really like to take a bath. I've been in the saddle for weeks. Horses are nice enough animals, I suppose, but I really don't want to smell like one."
    Porenn's mind was working very fast now; to give herself time to think, she rose and approached the wild Nadrak girl. "Have you ever worn satin, Vella?" she asked. "A gown, perhaps?"
    "Satin? Me?" Vella laughed coarsely. "Nadraks never wear satin,"
    "Then you might be the very first." Queen Porenn reached out her small white hands and lifted Vella's wealth of blue-black hair into a tumbled mass atop her head. "I'd give my soul for hair like that," she murmured.
    "I'll trade you," Vella offered. "Do you know what price I could bring if I were blond?"
    "Hush, Vetla," Porenn said absently. "I'm trying to think." She twined the girl's hair loosely about her hands, startled at how alive it felt. Then she reached out, lifted Vella's chin, and looked into her huge eyes. Something seemed to reach out and touch the Queen of Drasnia, and she suddenly knew the destiny of this half-wild child before her. "Oh, my dear," she almost laughed, "what an amazing future you have in store for you. You'll touch the sky, Vella, the very sky."
    "I really don't know what you're talking about, Porenn."
    "You will." Porenn looked at the perfect face before her. "Yes," she said, "satin, I think. Lavender would be nice."
    "I prefer red."
    "No, dear," Porenn told her. "Red just wouldn't do. It definitely has to be lavender." She reached out and touched the girl's ears. "And I think amethyst here and here."
    "What are you up to?"
    "It's a game, child. Drasnians are very good at games. And when I'm done, I'll double your price." Porenn was just a bit smug about it. "Bathe first, then let's see what we can do with you."
    Vella shrugged. "As long as I can keep my daggers."
    "We'll work that out."
    "Can you really do something with a lump like me?" Vella asked, almost plaintively.
    "Trust me," Porenn said, smiling. "Now go bathe, child. I have letters to read and decisions to make."
    After the Queen of Drasnia had read the letters, she summoned her butler and issued a couple of orders. "I want to speak with the Earl of Trellheim," she said, "before he gets any drunker. I also need to talk with Javelin just as soon as he can get to the palace."
    It was perhaps ten minutes later when Barak appeared in her doorway. He was a bit bleary-eyed, and his vast red beard stuck out in all directions. Yarblek came with him.
    "Put away your tankards, gentlemen," Porenn said crisply. "There's work to be done. Barak, is the Seabird ready to sail?"
    "She's always ready," he said in an injured tone.
    "Good. Then round up your sailors. You have a number of places to go. I'm calling a meeting of the Alorn Council. Get word to Anheg, Fulrach, and Brand's son Kail at Riva. Stop off in Arendia and pick up Mandorallen and Lelldorin." She pursed her lips. "Korodullin's not well enough to travel, so bypass Vo Mimbre. He'd get out of his deathbed to attend if he knew what was going on. Go to Tol Honeth instead and get Varana. I'll send word to Cho-Hag and Hettar myself. Yarblek, you go to Yar Nadrak and get Drosta. Leave Vella here with me."
    "But—"
    "No buts, Yarblek. Do exactly as I say."
    "I thought you said this was a meeting of the Alorn Council, Porenn," Barak objected. "Why are we inviting the Arends and the Tolnedrans—and the Nadraks?"
    "We’ve got an emergency on our hands, Barak, and it concerns everybody.''
    They stood staring stupidly at her.
    She clapped her hands together sharply. "Quickly, gentlemen, quickly. We don't have any time to waste."
    Urgit, High King of Cthol Murgos, sat on his garish throne in the Drojim Palace in Rak Urga. He was dressed