Ahmann had made enough examples of those who would hinder Abban that even Hasik dare not do so. His eyes promised vengeance as Abban passed, but the khaffit only smiled in return.
There was a knot of Damaji and various hangers-on around Ahmann as Abban limped into the throne room, but Ahmann dismissed them with a wave. ‘Leave us.’
The men all shot glares at Abban, but none dared disobey. Ahmann led the way into a smaller side chamber. There was a great oval table of dark polished wood surrounded by twenty chairs, a throne at its head. Behind the throne was a great map covering an entire wall, and the table was laden with fresh food and drink.
‘She has left?’ Ahmann asked when they were alone.
Abban nodded. ‘Mistress Leesha has agreed to allow me to set up a trading post for the Hollow tribe. It will help facilitate their integration, and give us valuable contacts in the North.’
Ahmann nodded. ‘Well done.’
‘I will need men to guard the shipments, and the stores at the post,’ Abban said. ‘Before, I had servants for such heavy duty. Khaffit, perhaps, but fit men.’
‘Such men are all kha’Sharum now,’ Ahmann said.
Abban bowed. ‘You see my difficulty. No dal’Sharum will take orders from khaffit in any event, but if you would allow me to select a few kha’Sharum to serve me in this regard, it would be most satisfactory.’
Ahmann’s eyes narrowed. He was guileless, but no fool. ‘How many?’
Abban shrugged. ‘I could make do with a hundred. A pittance.’
‘No warrior, even a kha’Sharum, is a pittance, Abban,’ Ahmann said.
Abban bowed. ‘I will pay their family stipends from my own coffers, of course.’
Ahmann considered a moment longer, then shrugged. ‘Pick your hundred.’
Abban bowed as deeply as his crutch allowed. ‘I will need a drillmaster to continue their training.’
Ahmann shook his head. ‘That, my friend, I cannot spare.’
Abban smiled. ‘I was thinking perhaps Master Qeran.’ Qeran had been one of Abban and Ahmann’s own drillmasters when they were in sharaj. He was harsh, bigoted, and hated khaffit with a passion. He had also had his leg bitten so badly by a field demon that the dama’ting had been forced to amputate it. The drillmaster had healed, but his pride had not.
Ahmann looked at him in surprise. ‘Qeran? Who struck me for not dropping you to your death?’
Abban bowed. ‘The same. If the Deliverer himself decided to spare me, and has come to see my uses, perhaps the drillmaster will, too. He has been having a difficult time of late it seems. He still teaches in sharaj, but the nie’Sharum do not respect him as they once did.’
Ahmann grunted. ‘Nie’Sharum are ever fools until blooded, but there will be blood for all soon enough. If you wish Qeran to work for you, you may ask him, but I will not command it.’
Abban bowed again. ‘Will your promises to the mistress of the Hollow tribe alter your plans?’
Ahmann shook his head. ‘My promises affect nothing. It is still my duty to unite the people of the Northland for Sharak Ka. We will march on Lakton in the spring.’
Abban pursed his lips at that, but nodded.
‘You think it a mistake,’ Ahmann said. ‘You would have me wait.’
Abban bowed. ‘Not at all. I am told you have already begun recalling your forces.’
Ahmann nodded. ‘We have angered Alagai Ka by killing the demon princeling. The next Waning will bring the opening salvos of Sharak Ka. I can feel it in my heart. We must be ready.’
‘Of course,’ Abban agreed. ‘The chin are pacified and will offer little resistance even as you remove most of your warriors from their lands. Their women properly scarved, their sons taken for Hannu Pash, and their men enslaved. It will be years, though, before the boys are old enough to test as dal’Sharum, and their fathers, the chi’Sharum, are not progressing well in their training, I hear.’
Ahmann raised a brow at him. ‘You hear much from the Sharum pavilions, khaffit.’
Abban only smiled. ‘My leg may be crippled, my friend, but my ears are sharp.’
‘The boys taken for Hannu Pash have been separated from their families, and are young enough to forget the old ways,’ Ahmann said. ‘Many of them will be fine dal’Sharum, and a few of them valuable dama we can use to proselytize in the green lands. Their fathers, however, remember too much and learn too little. Most will never open their hearts to the honour we offer them by training them to fight in Sharak Ka.’
‘First you ask them to fight Sharak Sun against their greenland brothers,’ Abban noted. ‘That is a difficult thing for any man.’
‘The Daylight War has been foretold,’ Ahmann said. ‘It cannot be denied if we are to win against the alagai and rid the world of their taint forever.’
‘Prophecies are vague things, Ahmann, oft misunderstood until it is too late. All the stories in the Evejah tell us so.’ Abban held up his ledger, a heavy book with huge pages, all filled with neat, tiny lines of indecipherable code. ‘Profit margins speak clearer truth.’
‘So we will make of them a blunt instrument,’ Ahmann said. ‘Fodder for the slings and arrows of the enemy. They will be the shield of my army, even as the true Sharum are its spear.’
‘Your spears will have fine mounts, at least,’ Abban said. ‘We pride ourselves on our breeding in Krasia, but the herds of wild horses roaming the grasslands of Everam’s Bounty put them to shame. Mustang, the chin call them. Enormous, powerful beasts.’
Ahmann grunted. ‘They would have to be, to survive the night.’
‘The dal’Sharum have proven exceptional at hunting and breaking them,’ Abban said. ‘Your armies will be quick, and little will stand in the way of their charge.’
Ahmann nodded in satisfaction. ‘Spring cannot come soon enough. Every day we wait, our enemies have time to gather their forces.’
‘I agree,’ Abban said. ‘Which is why you should not wait. Attack Lakton on first snow.’
Ahmann looked at him in surprise, but Abban kept his face blank. It pleased him to so shock his friend.
‘Since when does Abban the coward ever suggest attack?’ Ahmann asked.
Abban held up his ledger. ‘When it is profitable.’
Ahmann looked at him a long time, then went and poured himself a goblet of nectar, sitting on his throne. He gestured at Abban to sit. ‘Very well. Tell me your prophecy of profit. How am I to know when the first snow will come? Are you now dama’ting, to see the future?’
Abban smiled and took a goblet of his own, sitting at the table and opening his ledger. ‘First snow is not an event, but a specific date in the Thesan calendar. Thirty days after autumn equinox. In Lakton, it is significant because it is when the harvest tithe from the hamlets is due to the Laktonian duke.’
‘And you want us to steal it,’ Ahmann surmised.
‘Spears are useless when carried by men with empty stomachs, Ahmann,’ Abban said. ‘Your army almost starved this past winter, especially after that fool dama set fire to the grain silos. We cannot afford another such blunder.’
‘Agreed,’ Ahmann said, ‘but now we control the largest swathe of farmland in the North. What need have we for more?’