Weavers of War by David B. Coe Page A

intended to do next, nor did he wish for any aid. Harel was his. He had been anticipating this day for too long to share its pleasures with anyone else.
    The guards at Harel’s door stopped him, of course.
    “The emperor isn’t expecting you,” one of them said.
    “I know that, but it’s rather urgent that I see him.”
    The one who had spoken stepped into the imperial chamber, closing the door quietly behind him. After some time he reemerged, eyeing Dusaan with manifest distrust.
    “What is it you want?”
    “It’s a rather delicate matter, involving the fee accountings. I’d prefer not to say more than that.”
    The man frowned, but went back into the chamber. When he returned to the corridor once more, he nodded to the other guard then faced the high chancellor. “You’ll have to remove your weapons.”
    “Yes, I know. And I suppose I’ll have to wear that hood again as well.”
    “I’m afraid so,” the man said, sounding more insolent than apologetic.
    They took his dagger, tied the hood in place, and led him into the chamber. Dusaan sensed four guards in the chamber, two by the throne and two more by the door. Two of Harel’s wives sat in a far corner whispering to one another as a harpist played nearby. Harel was sitting on his throne as Dusaan entered, but he stood immediately and began to pace. The two guards who had accompanied the Weaver into the chamber withdrew, closing the door behind them.
    “Well, High Chancellor?” Harel said, his voice tight. “What is it you want?”
    “I thought your man explained that, Your Eminence.”
    “Yes, yes, the fee accountings. What about them?”
    The guards seemed content to remain where they were, no doubt believing that the hood rendered Dusaan powerless to harm the emperor. Within the muslin the Weaver smiled.
    “I fear that some of your gold has been misused, Your Eminence.”
    Harel stopped pacing. “What? How much?”
    “Quite a lot actually. Several thousand qinde, at least.”
    “Several thousand! How is this possible?”
    “It’s difficult to say, Your Eminence. I found some notes that I had written down some time ago and I realized that the numbers on those notes were not consistent with what I remember being requested by the fleet commanders in the strait.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “It would be easier to explain if we had the accountings here with us. Perhaps you can have the master of arms summoned.”
    “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.” Harel approached the guards at the door. “Have the master of arms brought here at once, and make certain that he brings the fee accountings.” Harel hesitated, then turned to Dusaan. “All of them?”
    “No, Your Eminence. Only the current one.”
    “The current fee accountings,” Harel repeated to the guard, as if the man couldn’t hear.
    The soldier left them, and Harel resumed his pacing.
    For a long time the emperor merely walked, saying nothing, though Dusaan sensed his impatience mounting. The high chancellor would have liked for Harel’s wives to leave. The harpist, too. He had no desire to harm them, but neither could he have them running through the palace raising the alarm.
    “How could this have happened?” Harel finally demanded, sounding like a petulant boy. “Where could the gold have gone if not to the fleet?”
    “Your Eminence, it might be best if we discuss this matter in private.”
    “What? Oh, yes, of course.” Dusaan heard him snap his fingers. An instant later the music stopped, as did the whispers and soft laughter. “Leave us. I’ll call for you again later.”
    The two wives rose and walked quickly from the chamber, followed closely by the harpist.
    “Now, Dusaan, can you tell me where this gold might have gone?”
    “Actually, Your Eminence, I believe so.”
    He sensed the emperor’s surprise. “You can? Where?”
    “I think it will be easier to explain when the master of arms arrives with the fee accountings.”
    “Damn you, Dusaan! Stop weaving