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Save that we have to obey Sharbaraz King of Kings.
Again Abivard supplied a sentence Mikhran marzban didn't care to speak aloud.
Disobeying the King of Kings was not something to be contemplated casually by
any of his servants. In spite of the
God's conveyance of preternatural wisdom to the King of Kings, Sharbaraz
wasn't always right But he always thought he was.
Mikhran opened a saddlebag, reached in, and pulled out a skin of wine. He
undid the strip of rawhide holding it closed, then poured a tiny libation for
each of the
Prophets Four down onto the ground that had already drunk so much blood. After
that he took a long swig for himself and passed the skin to Abivard.
The wine went down Abivard's throat smooth as silk, sweet as one of Roshnani's
kisses. He sighed with pleasure. "They know their grapes here, no doubt about
that,"
he said. On the hillsides in the distance were vineyards, the dark green of
the grapevines' leaves unmistakable.
"That they do." Mikhran hesitated. Abivard gave him back the wineskin. He
swigged again, but that wasn't what he'd wanted. He asked, "What will the King
of
Kings expect from us now?"
"He will expect us to restore Vaspurakan to obedience, nothing less," Abivard
answered. The golden wine mounted swiftly to his head, not least because he
was so worn from the morning's fighting. He went on. "He will also expect us
to have it done
by yesterday, or perhaps the day before."
Mikhran marzban's slightly pop-eyed expression said he hadn't just stepped
over an invisible line, he'd leapt far beyond it. He wished he'd held his
tongue, a useless wish if ever there was one. But perhaps his frankness or
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foolishness or whatever one wanted to call it had finally won the marzban's
trust. Mikhran said, "Lord, while we are putting down this rebellion in
Vaspurakan, what will the Videssians be doing?"
"I was wondering the same thing myself. Their worst, unless I'm badly
mistaken,"
Abivard said. He listened to himself in astonishment, as if he were someone
else. If his tongue and wits were running a race, his tongue had taken a
good-sized lead.
But Mikhran marzban nodded. "Which would Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days
be long and his realm increase, sooner have: war here and Videssos forgotten
or peace here and Videssos conquered?"
"Both," Abivard replied without hesitation. But in spite of his tongue's
running free as an unbroken colt, he knew what Mikhran was driving at. The
marzban didn't want to be the one to have to say it, for which Abivard could
hardly blame him:
Mikhran was not Sharbaraz' brother-in-law and enjoyed no familial immunity to
the displeasure of the King of Kings. How much did Abivard enjoy? He suspected
he'd find out "If we give up trying to compel the princes to follow the God,
they'll be mild enough to let me get back to fighting the Videssians."
When Mikhran had said the same thing earlier, he had spoken of it as an
obvious impossibility. Abivard's tone was altogether different Now Mikhran
said, "Lord, do you think we can do such a thing and keep our heads on our
shoulders once the King of Kings learns of it?"
"That's a good question," Abivard observed. "That's a very good question." It
was the question, and both men knew it Since Abivard didn't know what the
answer was, he went on: "The other question, the one that goes with it, is,
What is the cost of not doing it?
You summed that up well, I think: we will have warfare here, and we will lose
the gains we made in Videssos."
"You are right, lord; I'm certain of it," Mikhran said, adding, "You will have
to draft with great care the letter wherein you inform the King of Kings of
the course you have chosen." After a moment, lest that seem too craven, he
added, "Of course I
shall also append my signature and seal to the document once you have prepared
it"
"I was certain you would," Abivard lied. And yet it made sense that he should
be the one to write to Sharbaraz. For better or worse for better and worse he
was brother-in-law to the King of Kings; his sister Denak would help ease any
outburst of wrath from Sharbaraz when he learned that for once not all his
wishes would be gratified. But surely Sharbaraz would see that the change of
course would only do
Makuran good.
Surely he would see that. Abivard thought of the latest letter he'd gotten
from the
King of Kings, back in Across. Sharbaraz had not seen wisdom then. But the
red-lion banner had never before flown above Across. Makuran had struggled for
centuries to dominate Vaspurakan. Persecutions of the locals had always
failed. Surely Sharbaraz would remember that. Wouldn't he?
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