The group had assembled on the ridge top above the canyon. Annon had never met the king of his own land. Observing how Tyrus and the Empress of Boeotia conversed, he wished he had taken the time to do so. It fascinated him how leaders sized each other up, how they probed each other for weakness and strength in the comments they used and the short little phrases that tested one another. He had witnessed the Thirteen of Canton Vaud, the wisest of the Druidecht order, debate with Tyrus and seek to sway him away from his quest. He had observed the cruel machinations of the Arch-Rike attempt to do the same thing. The Empress was completely different. In every way, she sought to aid them—offering camels, supplies, sturdy men who could be trusted, and advice on how to maintain composure during conflict and to trust the inner voice that had guided him over the years.
Larei of Boeotia, Empress and servant to the lowest dregs of human life, amazed Annon, and he found himself overwhelmed by her wisdom and forethought. He was grateful to Tyrus that he was allowed into their private conversation. He knew it would mark him for the rest of his life.
A sudden gust of wind blew dust into his eyes and the camels snorted and spat, loaded down with casks and rugged sacks and bladders full of wine and oil. Tyrus stroked his own beast’s neck, trying to soothe it as they spoke. Annon listened in eagerly.
“We will strike Kenatos from the docks,” the Empress said, her voice low enough not to carry far. “Make them think that we are seeking to steal vessels to ferry our way across the waters. I will send Mathon and a chosen few to cross into the city from the bridge in the shallows. We will steal disguises and learn what we can from the inner defenses.”
Tyrus nodded and gestured to Mathon. “Go to the Preachán quarter—it’s on the western part of the city. Seek the aid of Bartimeus of the Cypher Inn. He will shelter you and aid you. He has no love of the Arch-Rike and I think he’ll be loyal to me. You will not stay hidden long, for the Arch-Rike has his spies throughout the city. They watch the docks vigilantly. Coming in from another way will aid in the deception.”
The Empress smiled with pure brilliance. “You have given us a spark of hope, Tyrus. If we can do nothing but interrupt Shirikant’s plans, it may aid you while you penetrate the Scourgelands. I do not think it will be difficult to topple the city from inside her defenses. She was designed to withstand an interminable siege, not a coup. But I assure you . . .” she added, reaching and grasping his forearm to emphasize her sincerity. Annon noticed how she communicated with all parts of her body—voice, eyes, and touch—aligning all three to help deliver her messages. “I assure you that we seek the Arch-Rike’s fall and will not harm the citizens of Kenatos if we can help it. We come as their liberators, though they will not see us in that light. Their minds have been poisoned against us. I have no desire to burn the Archives or purge knowledge from the city. Much of it is good and useful. As I told you before, his goal is to purge knowledge of himself from the land. If we are successful, I will add my records to the Archives personally.”
“Thank you,” Tyrus answered, his expression softening. “They are my people and they believe I’ve betrayed them. I will never be welcomed back to the city again. I knew this would happen. But the lead Archivist is named Possidius Adeodat. I do not believe he has seen through the Arch-Rike’s web of lies. But he may be the most reasonable man you can influence. In fact, he may make a fair Arch-Rike himself if given the chance. He’s never desired leadership, which probably serves him well.”
“I will seek him out,” she replied, lowering her hand. Annon noticed it was her right hand. “Is there anything else I can do to assist your journey?”
“You’ve already done so much,” Tyrus demurred.
She shook her head. “Do not think of it like that, Tyrus. You are bearing the greater burden. When you faced the horrors there before, you barely survived.” She reached over and took Mathon’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Going back will bring a flood of memories.”