5.Death of Chaos
XX
Dellash, Delapra [Candar]
DYRSSE STEPS OUT of the full sunlight of the courtyard, crosses the covered veranda, and walks up to the table set on the corner to catch the breeze from either the bay below or the low forested hills to the west. He glances back down on Dellash and the black ships anchored in the bay. From only one funnel rises a thin line of smoke.
Turning his eyes back to the dark-skinned man who rises from the table, Dyrsse bows. “Marshal Dyrsse at your service, SerRignelgio.”
“You come highly recommended for your military skills, Marshal Dyrsse.” The black-haired man smiles politely, but his eyes remain like blue ice. “Please have a seat.” His square and blunt-fingered left hand gestures almost languidly toward the wooden armchair that matches the one in which he sits.
Dyrsse sits down heavily, and the chair creaks. “I am only here to serve the Emperor and you.”
“That's an interesting way of putting it,” observes the envoy, the half-smile remaining on his smooth-shaven face as he reseats himself.
“I always put the Emperor first.” Dyrsse laughs. “It is not only fitting, but far safer.”
“Spoken like a true marshal of the Emperor, and one who has obviously worked closely with the throne.” Rignelgio lifts a pitcher. “Delapran wine. It's not bad, and Delapra's one of the few places in Candar you can get any kind of decent wine. Would you like some?”
“Half a glass.”
Rignelgio fills the glass precisely half full. “There. One must try to retain some semblance of civilization, especially since Candar is far indeed from Cigoerne.”
“Not so far as it once was, Ser Rignelgio, nor so close as it soon shall be, in either distance or culture.” Dyrsse sips from the clear goblet. “This is not bad, indeed, though I am not one to judge wines.”
“It is rather good, in a quaint fruity way, like some aspects of Candar.” Rignelgio takes another sip, though his lips barely smudge the edge of the crystal. “Your words seem to imply that the grand fleet might be assembled and sent here. Do you really think so? I doubt that the Emperor will commit those resources so far from Hamor.”
“I do not know of the grand fleet, but I do know that another score of the iron cruisers will be here within the eight-day. That is why you must prevail upon the Delaprans to furnish more coal.”
“Ah, yes, the Delaprans. They often seem less and less cooperative, and it may be difficult to persuade them.” Rignelgio smiles again.
“You are the envoy and the master of persuasion. I will defer to your knowledge and expertise. You are the mouth of the Emperor, and I am here to serve you. That is my duty. His Majesty made that quite clear.” Dyrsse takes a second sip of the wine. “It does seem like good wine, but, in this also, I must defer to you.”
“I do appreciate your deference, Marshal Dyrsse.” Rignelgio stands. “I think perhaps I should introduce you to several others, especially Leithrrse. He was born in Recluce, you know.”
“Recluce has produced some fine citizens of the Empire.”
“Including the Emperor's grandfather, a fact which bears on the Emperor's concerns about Candar and the black isle- not to mention your devotion to duty, does it not?” Rignelgio smiles again.
“Let us say that the Emperor was reflective about the... sentiments... of his grandfather.” Dyrsse lifts the glass toward his lips, but does not drink, instead inhaling the aroma of the wine.
“Leithrrse is quite competent. He is one of the more successful traders in Hamor already, and the Emperor has requested he serve as an envoy to assist me.” The envoy stands.
“I will serve him as I serve you.” Dyrsse sets the glass aside and also stands.
“Oh, please do.”
The two men descend the wide brown-tiled steps. A faint breeze crosses the veranda, bearing the slightest odor of ashes.