It was still summer, so the windows of Corrolin’s palace were all open, and that gave me all the opportunity I needed to eavesdrop on the discussions of the Privy Council. I settled on the window-sill, chirped a couple of times to let everyone know that I was only a bird, and then cocked my head to listen.
Duke Corrolin was speaking to a squinty-eyed, swarthy fellow in a pale blue Tolnedran mantle. ‘I must advise thee, worthy Kador, that word hath but recently arrived from the northern duchies which doth advise us that Duke Oldoran hath fallen gravely ill by reason of some obscure malady. The governance of Asturia hath been placed in the hands of an aged earl yclept Mangaran.’
‘Yes,’ Kador replied, ‘my own sources have confirmed this as well, your Grace. The initiative in the north, however, lies in the hands of Duke Kathandrion, and I’ve heard nothing to indicate that he’s changed his mind about invading Asturia. It doesn’t really matter who holds power in Vo Astur, since our plan hinges almost entirely on what’s taking place in Vo Wacune.’
The thought I sent out was so light as to be virtually unnoticed, and the color which responded to it was dull black. Kador was not the Grolim. That startled me more than a little, and it troubled me even more. If I started probing every mind in that room, the Grolim, whoever he was, would eventually sense that someone was looking for him.
Then a rather ordinary-looking Tolnedran – a servant, judging by his clothing – came forward and murmured something to Kador. ‘Ah,’ Kador said. ‘Thank you.’ Then he turned back to the duke – but not before a momentary flicker of hard, glossy black ever so briefly touched my awareness. I’d found my Grolim, but I couldn’t quite fathom out exactly why he’d chosen to remain in the background. From what father and my uncles had told me about the Angaraks, it was decidedly unGrolimish for a priest of the Dragon-God to assume the guise of a servant.
‘My Lord,’ Kador was saying to Corrolin, ‘all is proceeding according to our plan. The remainder of the legions will be in place before the week is out. If I might be so bold as to suggest it, might this not be a good time for your knights to begin their journey toward the Ulgo frontier? The general in command of the legions will order his troops north as soon as his force is fully assembled. Your mounted men will move more rapidly, of course, but they have much farther to travel, and the terrain in the foothills of the Ulgo Mountains will make for slow going. Timing will be all-important when we move against Wacune.’
‘It may well be as thou sayest, worthy Kador,’ Corrolin admitted. ‘I shall dispatch an advance party to the east on the morrow. When the legions of His Imperial Majesty do interject themselves into northern Arendia, my knights will be in place.’
In that single phrase ‘the legions of His Imperial Majesty’ Kador had summed up the core of my problem. Bribing an individual Tolnedran posed no particular difficulty, but bribing forty legion commanders? That might be a bit more challenging.
Then a rather horrid suspicion began to intrude itself upon me, and I did something I haven’t done very often. Baron Mandorin, resplendent in his armor, sat at the long table with the other members of the Privy Council, and I sent my thought – and my silent voice – out to him. ‘Uncle,’ I said to him, ‘don’t look around, and don’t let your face show any sign that I’m talking to you. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to think the answers. Don’t say anything out loud.’
“This is a wondrous thing, Lady Polgara,’ his thought responded. ‘Canst thou truly hear my thought?’
‘You’re doing just fine, Uncle. Now, then, has anyone other than Kador and his henchmen actually seen the legions that are supposedly encamped a few miles to the south?’
‘Their watch-fires are clearly visible from the south wall of the city, my Lady.’
‘Anybody can light a fire, Mandorin. Has any Mimbrate at all bothered to go down into Tolnedra to actually count the soldiers who are supposed to be camped there?’
‘The Tolnedrans do not welcome incursions into their territory, my Lady, and in the light of our current delicate negotiations it would be discourteous in the extreme for us to intrude upon the ancestral home of our ally to the south.’
I said something I probably shouldn’t have at that point.
‘Polgara!’ Mandorin gasped in shock at my choice of words.
‘Sorry, Uncle,’ I apologized. ‘It just slipped out. Will you be in your chambers after this meeting breaks up?’
‘An it please thee, yes.’
‘It will please me, uncle. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day, and when I come back, we’ll need to talk, I think.’
I fluttered away from my listening post on the window-sill of the council chamber, found another window that faced out from an empty chamber, and transformed myself into the falcon that was always the alternative to my preferred form. Owls are conspicuous in the daytime, after all.
It didn’t take me long to confirm my suspicions. Although there were mounted patrols of men in legion uniforms near the south bank of the River Arend that marks the boundary between Arendia and Tolnedra, when I flew on, I saw no more men. There were several standard legion encampments in the forest with all the usual appurtenances of legion camps – log palisades, neatly pitched tents along what could only be called streets, and legion banners fluttering above the gates – but those camps were empty. My suspicions had just been confirmed. There were perhaps fifty men in legion uniforms patrolling near the border, but that was the entire extent of the supposed invasion force.
I flew back toward the border and swooped down to settle on a tree limb for a bit of constructive eavesdropping.
‘This is the most tedious job I’ve ever had, Ralas,’ I heard one unshaven fellow complain to his companion as they rode under my tree.
‘Oh, it’s not so bad, Geller,’ Ralas replied. ‘We could all be back at the lumber-camp chopping down oak-trees, you know. All we have to do here is ride up and down the river and tend a few fires at night.’
‘I don’t see any point to it, Ralas.’
‘We’re getting paid for it, Geller. That’s the only point that matters to me. If Count Oldon wants us to patrol the northern boundary of his estate, I’ll be happy to oblige him for as long as he wants. The horse does all the work, and that suits me right down to the ground.’
‘We could get in trouble for wearing these uniforms, you know,’ Geller told him, rapping on his breastplate.