The Hidden City

She gave them all an impish little smile, and then she vanished.
    Kring was sitting at Mirtai’s side, and he had been squinting speculatively at the ceiling, absently running one hand over his stubbled scalp. He was not free to use the other, since Mirtai had taken possession of it. Her contented, almost placid, expression clearly said that she did not intend to release his hand in the foreseeable future.
    ‘If Divine Aphrael can keep those Cynesgan troops more or less permanently distracted, Tikume and I’ll be able to hold Samar without any help,’ the Domi said, ‘particularly now that we know how to deal with Klael’s soldiers.’ He rubbed even more briskly at his scalp.
    ‘Quit worrying at it,’ Mirtai told him. ‘I’ll shave you just as soon as we finish here.’
    ‘Yes, love,’ he agreed immediately.
    ‘Oh, that reminds me,’ Vanion said. ‘Sparhawk had a talk with Bhelliom. Klael’s soldiers can only breathe our air for about a day.’ Kring nodded.
    A tall Atan came in and murmured something to Itagne.
    ‘I’m really awfully busy right now, old boy,’ Itagne objected.
    ‘He’s most insistent, Itagne-Ambassador.’
    ‘Oh, very well.’ Itagne rose to his feet. ‘I’ll be right back, Lord Vanion,’ he said and followed the Atan from the room.
    ‘Did Sparhawk find out what country Klael’s soldiers come from, friend Vanion?’ Kring asked. ‘I’d sort of like to avoid that country.”
    ‘I don’t think you need to worry, Domi Kring.’ Sephrenia said. ‘Klael’s soldiers were brought here from someplace beyond the stars.’
    Kring frowned. ‘You might want to have a talk with Sparhawk, friend Vanion,’ he said. ‘I enjoy a good fight as much as the next man, but if he’s going to declare war on the whole universe, he ought to let the rest of us in on his plans.’
    ‘I’ll definitely speak with him about it, Domi Kring,’ Vanion said. Then he sighed. ‘I wish we’d known more about Klael’s soldiers earlier. The Church Knights encountered them in the mountains of Zemoch and lost half their number in killed and wounded.’
    ‘I’m sorry, friend Vanion. Did you lose many old comrades?’
    ‘Many, Domi Kring,’ Vanion replied sadly, ‘many.’
    ‘How’s friend Engessa coming along?’ Kring asked Betuana.
    ‘Aphrael says that he’s recovering, Domi,’ she replied. ‘I’d like to see that for myself, though.’
    Itagne returned, accompanied by a Tamul wearing slightly out-of-date clothing. ‘Would you please see to it that we’re not disturbed?’ he said to the Atan guard in the hall. Then he closed and bolted the door. ‘I have some good news for a change,’ he said then. He put his hand on the stranger’s shoulder. ‘This is my very dear—though new-found friend, Ekrasios,’ he said.
    Betuana frowned. ‘That is not a Tamul name,’ she said.
    ‘No, your Majesty,’ Itagne agreed, ‘It’s not. Actually, it’s Delphaeic. The Delphae are such a musical people. It probably derives from the fact that they still speak classical Tamul. My friend here just stopped by to advise us that the Delphae have decided to come out of their splendid seclusion. Ekrasios, this is Preceptor Vanion, the close friend of Anakha. The regal lady is Betuana, Queen of the Atans. The short fellow is Domi Kring of the western Peloi. The tall, pretty girl with the death-grip on his hand is Mirtai, his betrothed, and the exquisite Styric lady is Sephrenia, High Priestess of the Goddess Aphrael.’
    ‘Nobles all,’ Ekrasios greeted them with a formal bow. ‘I bring greetings from Beloved Edaemus. Divine Aphrael hath persuaded him that we have common cause in the current situation, and he hath thus relaxed his centuries-old prohibition upon us. I am sent to thee, Lord Vanion, to advise thee that I and diverse companions are at thine immediate disposal. Where might we best be deployed to further our cause?’
    ‘If I may, Lord Vanion?’ Itagne interposed. ‘It just occurred to me that the Delphae might be best suited to empty those ruins in the Arjuni jungles. If Ekrasios and his friends were to appear in all their glowing splendor at the gates of Scarpa’s down there, the rebels would probably go back home and peaceful pursuits, just as fast as they possibly could.’
    ‘Well said,’ Mirtai murmured her agreement.
    ‘He certainly moves around, doesn’t he?’ Ulath said to Tynian as the beer wagon with Sparhawk and Kalten perched atop the barrels rumbled past on the