been watered in blood,” suggested
Frenna, Jinzan’s first wife, though not his eldest. He had wedded her as a
barely flowered girl, taking her into his protection after her parents died in
the war. She had been heir to a large fortune and lands—on which they were now
gathered—and the arrangement had been largely political. In no rush for heirs
of his own, Jinzan had waited years before consummating their vows, leaving her
in the hands of tutors, and eventually Nakah’s care, before finally making a
proper wife of her. He kept largely away from her in the meantime, not wishing
to form too strongly the image of his wife as a child. She was a bitter one,
though, Frenna was. Any mention of Kadrin reminded her of her slaughtered
parents—it was, sadly, something she had in common with her husband.
“It will be better once the harmless, beleaguered peasants
realize they have been freed from the yoke of the Imperial Circle and the noble
houses,” Jinzan corrected. Jinzan had lived in Kadris as a youth while training
as a sorcerer. Possibly the most valuable lesson he had learned in his time
there was that peasants were all largely alike. They worked, they fell in love,
they raised families, and they died. If left undisturbed, they would do the
same under any ruler who wished to claim dominion over their homes, in any part
of the world where crops could push their way up through the soil or fish could
be wrested from the sea.
“To the sword with all of them, then?” Varduk asked, goading
Jinzan just a bit.
“By and large, I suppose. Most are too invested in the
current system to embrace real change that would not have them pulling the
puppet strings from safe in their fortresses. A few might see reason and join
in truth, and not just say the words to keep their neck employed holding head
to shoulders.”
“What of the warlock?” Varduk asked. “Is that staff of yours
enough?”
“The Staff of Gehlen is our best answer to that threat, yes.
I suspect we will have a game of Guards and Cutthroats on our hands, and I do
not know yet who will be who. Certainly it ought to be enough to overmaster any
of the rest of their sorcerers, but I will always refrain from making
assumptions where it relates to Rashan Solaran. One day, I think, fate will
pair us across a battlefield and the river of history will be diverted to a new
path.” The warlock was a problem to be sure, but the staff ought to help with
that. Jinzan was more worried about Kyrus Hinterdale and his counterpart. He
knew of cannons as well, and might think of other inventions to bring to Kadrin
from the other world.
He is too clever by far. Cannons were the best weapon I
could think to bring, but that does not mean he will not match me. Who can say
what pieces of Tellurak I might find cropping up among the Kadrins?
“Councilor Jinzan,” one of the young pages of the estate
interrupted the conversation apologetically. “There is a goblin to see you. He
seemed polite enough, so I allowed him in to wait in the front sitting parlor.”
“Hmm?” Jinzan disengaged his mind from the philosophical,
and re-emerged in a more suspicious state. “Did the goblin give a name?”
Goblins were not unheard of in Megrenn, and Zorren had a few small goblin
enclaves. Jinzan suspected that any goblin calling on him personally was not
local.
“Gut me if I know, sir,” the page answered. “He understands
Megrenn just fine, but I could not say he speaks it. He had a go of it, but it
sounded like someone was hurtin’ him, so I begged him to stop. If he had a name
somewheres in there, I sure did not catch it.”
Jinzan smiled at the irreverent page. Among his own people,
it felt good to hear honesty for a change. He heard so little of it outside
Megrenn borders. He suspected he would hear little from his new guest as well,
given his recent experiences with the goblin folk.
* * * * * * * *
“You?” Jinzan’s first word of shock greeted his guest.
Unafraid of
Frenna, Jinzan’s first wife, though not his eldest. He had wedded her as a
barely flowered girl, taking her into his protection after her parents died in
the war. She had been heir to a large fortune and lands—on which they were now
gathered—and the arrangement had been largely political. In no rush for heirs
of his own, Jinzan had waited years before consummating their vows, leaving her
in the hands of tutors, and eventually Nakah’s care, before finally making a
proper wife of her. He kept largely away from her in the meantime, not wishing
to form too strongly the image of his wife as a child. She was a bitter one,
though, Frenna was. Any mention of Kadrin reminded her of her slaughtered
parents—it was, sadly, something she had in common with her husband.
“It will be better once the harmless, beleaguered peasants
realize they have been freed from the yoke of the Imperial Circle and the noble
houses,” Jinzan corrected. Jinzan had lived in Kadris as a youth while training
as a sorcerer. Possibly the most valuable lesson he had learned in his time
there was that peasants were all largely alike. They worked, they fell in love,
they raised families, and they died. If left undisturbed, they would do the
same under any ruler who wished to claim dominion over their homes, in any part
of the world where crops could push their way up through the soil or fish could
be wrested from the sea.
“To the sword with all of them, then?” Varduk asked, goading
Jinzan just a bit.
“By and large, I suppose. Most are too invested in the
current system to embrace real change that would not have them pulling the
puppet strings from safe in their fortresses. A few might see reason and join
in truth, and not just say the words to keep their neck employed holding head
to shoulders.”
“What of the warlock?” Varduk asked. “Is that staff of yours
enough?”
“The Staff of Gehlen is our best answer to that threat, yes.
I suspect we will have a game of Guards and Cutthroats on our hands, and I do
not know yet who will be who. Certainly it ought to be enough to overmaster any
of the rest of their sorcerers, but I will always refrain from making
assumptions where it relates to Rashan Solaran. One day, I think, fate will
pair us across a battlefield and the river of history will be diverted to a new
path.” The warlock was a problem to be sure, but the staff ought to help with
that. Jinzan was more worried about Kyrus Hinterdale and his counterpart. He
knew of cannons as well, and might think of other inventions to bring to Kadrin
from the other world.
He is too clever by far. Cannons were the best weapon I
could think to bring, but that does not mean he will not match me. Who can say
what pieces of Tellurak I might find cropping up among the Kadrins?
“Councilor Jinzan,” one of the young pages of the estate
interrupted the conversation apologetically. “There is a goblin to see you. He
seemed polite enough, so I allowed him in to wait in the front sitting parlor.”
“Hmm?” Jinzan disengaged his mind from the philosophical,
and re-emerged in a more suspicious state. “Did the goblin give a name?”
Goblins were not unheard of in Megrenn, and Zorren had a few small goblin
enclaves. Jinzan suspected that any goblin calling on him personally was not
local.
“Gut me if I know, sir,” the page answered. “He understands
Megrenn just fine, but I could not say he speaks it. He had a go of it, but it
sounded like someone was hurtin’ him, so I begged him to stop. If he had a name
somewheres in there, I sure did not catch it.”
Jinzan smiled at the irreverent page. Among his own people,
it felt good to hear honesty for a change. He heard so little of it outside
Megrenn borders. He suspected he would hear little from his new guest as well,
given his recent experiences with the goblin folk.
* * * * * * * *
“You?” Jinzan’s first word of shock greeted his guest.
Unafraid of
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