Tzikas had a strong wrist and tried to twist the sword out of Abivard's hand. Abivard held on to his blade and cut at his foe's head. Tzikas got his sword up in time to block the blow. As they had been on horseback, they were well matched here.
«Stop this at once!» someone shouted from behind Abivard. He took no notice; had he taken any notice, he would have been spitted the next instant. Nor did Tzikas show any signs of trusting him to show restraint—and the renegade had reason, for once two enemies began to fight, getting them to stop before one was bleeding or dead was among the hardest things for individuals and empires both.
A servant behind Tzikas shouted for him to give over. He kept slashing away at Abivard nonetheless, his fencing style afoot taking on more and more of the manner in which he would have fought while horsed as he went on battling his foe. Abivard found himself making more thrusts than cuts, doing his best to adapt to the different circumstances in which he now found himself. But whatever he did, Tzikas kept beating aside his blade. Whatever else anyone said about the Videssian, he could fight.
None of the palace servitors was so unwise as to try to break up the fight by grabbing one of the contestants. If someone did try tackling Tzikas, Abivard was ready to run the renegade through, however unsporting that was. He had no doubt Tzikas would give him the same treatment if he got the chance.
One thing that would stop two parties from fighting each other was overwhelming outside force directed at them both. A shout of «Drop your sword or neither one of you comes out alive!» got Abivard's undivided attention. A squadron of palace guards, bows drawn, were rushing up behind Tzikas.
Abivard sprang back from Tzikas and lowered his sword, though he did not drop it. He hoped Tzikas might pursue the fight without checking and thus get himself pincushioned. To his disappointment, the Videssian looked over his shoulder instead. He also let his arm drop but still kept hold of his sword. «I'll kill you yet,» he told Abivard.
«Only in your dreams,» Abivard retorted, and started to raise his blade again.
By then, though, the guardsmen had gotten between them. «That will be enough of that,» the squadron leader said as if talking to a couple of fractious boys rather than a pair of men far outranking him.
Very much like a fractious boy, Tzikas said, «He started it.»
«Liar!» Abivard snapped.
The squadron leader held up a hand. «I don't care who started it. All I know is that Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, doesn't want the two of you brawling, no matter what. I'm going to split my men in two. Half of them will take one of you back to his lodging; the other half will take the other noble gentleman back to his. That way nothing can go wrong.»
«Hold!» That ringing voice could have belonged to only one man—or, rather, not quite man—in the palace. Yeliif strode through the guards, disgust manifest not only on his face but in every line of his body. He looked from Abivard to Tzikas. His eyes flashed contempt. «You fools,» he said, making it sound like a revelation from the God.
«But—» Abivard and Tzikas said in the same breath. They glared at each other, angry at agreeing even in protest.
«Fools,» Yeliif repeated. He shook his head. «How the King of Kings expects to accomplish anything working through such tools as you is beyond me, but he does, so long as you do not break each other before he can take you in hand.»
Abivard pointed at Tzikas. «That tool will cut his hand if he tries to wield it.»
«You know not whereof you speak,» the beautiful eunuch snapped. «Now more than ever the King of Kings prepares to gather the fruits of what his wisdom long ago set in motion, and you seek in your ignorance to trifle with his design? You do not understand, either one of you. All is changed now. The ambassadors have returned.»
XIII
Abivard scratched his head. He hadn't known of any embassies going out, let alone any coming back. «What ambassadors?» he asked. «Ambassadors to Videssos? Do we have peace with the Empire, then?» That made no sense. If Sharbaraz had made peace with Videssos, what need had he for either a marshal or a Videssian traitor?
Yeliif rolled his eyes in theatrical scorn. «Since you seem intent on making a display of your ignorance, I shall merely confirm it, noting that you do not in fact know everything there is to know and noting further that the glorious vision of Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, vastly outranges your own.»
«To the ice—uh, to the Void—with me if I know what you're talking about,» Tzikas told the eunuch.
«Nor does that surprise me.» Yeliif looked at the renegade as if he were something pallid and slimy that lived in the mud under flat stones by the bank of a creek that did not run clean. Abivard loathed Tzikas with a loathing both pure and hot, but that stare made him feel a moment's sympathy for the Videssian. «Your function is solely to serve the King of Kings, not to be privy to his plans.»
«If we're going to be part of his plans, we ought to have some idea of what those plans are,» Abivard said, and found Tzikas nodding along with him. Accusingly, he went on, «You've known for some time. Why haven't we gained the same knowledge?»
«Until the return of the ambassadors, the King of Kings judged the time unripe,» Yeliif answered. Abivard found the hand that wasn't on his sword tightening into a fist. Yeliif knew the answers, while he didn't even know the questions. Until moments before he hadn't known there were any questions. It all struck him as most unfair.
«Now that the ambassadors are back, will the King of Kings let us know what they were doing while they were away?» Tzikas sounded as if he didn't care for having been left in the dark, either.
Not that that mattered to Yeliif. «In his own good time the King of Kings will inform you,» he said. «It is, then, your task—and I speak to each of you in this instance—to be here to be informed at the time of the King of Kings' choosing and not to eliminate each other before that time. Do you understand?»
He sought to shame them, to make them feel like brawling boys. In no small measure he succeeded. Nevertheless, Abivard new a stir of anger at being considered only insofar as he fit into Sharbaraz' plans. He said, «I do hope the King of Kings will let us know what he intends us to do before we have to do it, not afterward.»
«He will do as he chooses, not as you seek to impose upon—»
The perfect apologist for the King of Kings, Yeliif started to defend him before hearing everything Abivard had had to say. When he realized he'd made himself look foolish, the eunuch bared small, white, even teeth in something closer to a snarl than to a smile. «I don't know why you want to kill this Videssian,» he said, pointing at Tzikas. «Living among his folk for so long has taught you to play meaningless games with words, just as they do.»
«You insult me,» Abivard said.
«No, you insult me,» Tzikas insisted. «Twice, in fact. First you call me a Videssian when I am one no longer, and second you call him—» He pointed at Abivard."—one when he manifestly is not. Were I a Videssian yet, I'd not want him as one.»
«He didn't call me a Videssian,» Abivard said, «and if he had, he would have insulted me, not you, by doing so.»
Tzikas started to raise his sword. The palace guards made ready to pincushion him and Abivard both if they started fighting again. Coldly, Yeliif said, «Do not be more stupid than you can help. I have told you that you and Abivard are required in the future plans of the King of Kings. When those plans are accomplished, you may fight if you so desire. Until then you are his. Remember it and comport yourselves accordingly.» He swept away, the hem of his caftan brushing the floor.