“What of the Warlord?”
“Almecho, he you knew as Warlord, acted with honor and took his own life after you shamed him at the Imperial Games. His nephew, Axantucar, wears the white and gold. He is of the Oaxatucan Family, one who gained by death of others when . . . the peace was betrayed. All with stronger claims were killed, and many with claims as valid as his to the office of Warlord were . . . dealt with. The War Party is still firmly in control of the High Council.”
Pug considered. With the War party still in control of the nations, there would be scant chance of finding sympathetic ears in the High Council, though the Game of the Council would continue. That terrible, seemingly never-ending struggle for power might provide the opportunity for discovering alliance.
“What of the Assembly?”
“I sent those things which you instructed, Great One. The others were burned as you commanded. I received only a note of thanks from the Great One Hochopepa, nothing more.”
“What is the talk in the market?”
“I have not heard your name mentioned in many months. But just after you departed, it was said you attempted to lure the Light of Heaven into a trap, bringing dishonor on yourself. You have been named outlaw and outcast by the Assembly, the first to have the black robe stripped away. Your words are no longer as law. Any who aid you do so at peril of their lives, and the lives of their families, and the lives of their clan.”
Pug rose, “We shall not tarry here, old friend. I would not risk your lives, nor the lives of your clan.”
Netoha spoke as he moved to open the door. “I know you better than most. You would not do what they accused you of, Great One.”
“Great One no longer, by edict of the Assembly.”
‘Then I honor the man, Milamber,” he said, using Pug’s Tsurani name. “You have given us much. The name Netoha of the Chichimecha is upon the rolls of the Hunzan Clan. My sons will grow in greatness because of your generosity.”
“Sons?”
Almorella patted her stomach. “Next planting season. The healer priests think twins.”
“Katala will be doubly pleased. First, to know the sister of her heart is well, and second, that you will be a mother.”
Almorella’s eyes brimmed with moisture. “Katala is well? And the boy?”
“My wife and son are well and send you their love.”
“Return with our greetings and affection, Milamber. I have prayed that someday we may again meet.”
“Perhaps we shall. Not soon, but someday . . . Netoha, is the pattern intact?”
“It is, Milamber. Little has changed. This is still your home.”
Pug rose and motioned for the others to follow him. “I may have need of it for a quick return to my own lands. If I sound the arrival gong twice, have everyone quit the house at once, for there may be others behind me who will harm you. I hope it will not be so.”
“Your will, Milamber.”
They walked out of the room and made for the pattern room. Pug said, “In the glade by the pool is the means for my return home. I would it remained undisturbed until I close it.”
“It is done. I will instruct the grounds keepers to allow no one in the glade.”
At the door Almorella said, “Where are you bound, Milamber?”
“That I will not tell you, for what you do not know cannot be forced from you. You are already in jeopardy for simply having me under your roof. I will add no more.”
Without further word he led Dominic and Meecham into the pattern room and closed the door behind. Removing a scroll from his belt pouch, Pug placed it on the center of a large tile pattern, a depiction of three dolphins. It was sealed with black wax, embossed with a large chop, from the ring of the Great One. “I send a message to a friend. With this symbol upon it, no one will dare touch it but him to whom it is addressed.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then suddenly the scroll wasn’t there.
Pug motioned Dominic and Meecham to stand next to him on the pattern. “Every Great One in the Empire has a pattern in his home. Each is unique, and when it is remembered exactly, a magician can transport himself or send an object to it. In a few cases, a location that is very familiar, such as the kitchen at Crydee where I worked as a boy, might serve as well as a pattern. It is usual to will a gong to sound, announcing our arrival, though I shall avoid that this time, I think. Come.” He reached out and gripped each of them, closed his eyes, and incanted. There seemed to be a sudden blur and the room appeared to change about them.
Dominic said, “What . . . ?” then realized they had transported to another place. He looked down at a different pattern, resembling an ornamental flower of red and yellow.