CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

THE CAMPAIGN BEGINS

Providing the Lodmurak tribesmen with a victim for their bloody ritual presented little difficulty. There were now many Kroyans who, for one reason or another connected with the Theigan conquest, were homeless and impoverished. They either remained in the countryside, to starve or be pressed into the mines by Cregitzig's soldiers, or they made their way to the towns, there to swell the sickly tumescence of destitute itinerants. Budenrath, the capital, attracted the greatest number, and Taddig's instructions to find an unwanted child were easily fulfilled.
At Havil's celebratory feast, Cregitzig was seated between Taddig and Havil; behind him, their eyes rarely leaving his back, were the two senior officers of his escort, and positioned at intervals around the great hall were the other members of the escort. They stood, legs apart and arms folded, their long swords hanging unsheathed from their belts. And all around them, mingling with the castle's regular servants and wearing the same royal livery, were their Lodmurak and Kroyan assassins. At a signal from Taddig the killing would begin.
Early in the meal, Cregitzig turned to Taddig and said "That matter you spoke of. I don't approve of your strategy, but there might be something in the general idea."
Taddig asked "You'd be prepared to attack the Sairians?"
Cregitzig finished eating the small bird on his platter and gulped down some wine. "Not in the manner you envisage. But don't let's talk about it now; I intend to concentrate on this," and he indicated the food stacked up around him on the table.
Taddig touched his hand, as though to slow him down. "What, exactly, are you telling me?"
"I'm telling you that I intend to enjoy my meal."
"Do you believe," Taddig persisted - he was not a man to spill blood wantonly - "that it would be an advantage to act in concert with the barbarians?"
"Something like that."
Taddig sighed. "I see.”
The Kroyans and the Lodmuraks waited in vain for his signal, and that night there was no massacre. Instead everyone got very drunk - including, by the end, the would-be assassins and their would-be victims.
The next day Taddig told Havil why he had not given his signal. Havil seemed not altogether surprised.
"After Cregitzig turned you down, I interviewed him in the presence of Jaejisir. We convinced him where you had failed to. You see, he has always liked me, and he saw the sense of what I proposed."
"What did you propose?"
"Much the same as you did. Jivvae was present, of course, and she put her father's case."
Taddig knew Havil was lying, for otherwise he would surely have terminated the plot to assassinate the commander. But he said nothing. Afterwards he went to see Cregitzig, and during the course of their conversation he learned that Havil had indeed interviewed him in the presence of Jaejisir and Jivvae, but that he had not then committed himself to supporting the barbarians.
"The barbarian," said Cregitzig, "is a man who means what he says. He will make a better ally than anyone I have yet met. We will go together to the territory he was forced to leave, and our Theigan soldiers will smash his rivals. Sigmar the Sairian doesn't concern me. I made inquiries about what you said - that business of his supporting Babra - and there's no truth in it. If we do need to crush him it will be an easy matter. I intend to leave here with an army in the spring. The mines by then will be organised and operating efficiently. Daragaz will be in charge of them."
Taddig said "Quite so."
Daragaz was Cregitzig's son, and would, Taddig thought with some satisfaction, be easier to deal with than his father.

* * * *

News of Cregitzig's decision to join Jaejisir reached Doo within days of the feast. She was very excited by it, for now she knew that Chaldez would be avenged.
Her obvious elation was noticed by Jivvae, who believed it was connected with her own good fortune; and marriage to the king of Kroya was good fortune indeed. At night she lay awake trying to picture herself as Havil's queen, but life in the royal castle at Budenrath was so unlike anything she had ever experienced before that she really had no idea what to expect. Feelings of excitement, apprehension, pride, exaltation and uncertainty swarmed over her; Havil hardly figured in her thoughts at all. He was a shadowy figure, and one that she mentally shied away from.
Doo remained her close and only friend. They spent most of their waking hours in each other's company, and their conversation was centred entirely upon Jivvae and her forthcoming marriage. It never touched the dark, vengeful things which possessed Doo's own thoughts.
The royal wedding was held shortly after the autumn equinox, but marriage made little difference to Havil's and Jivvae's relationship. Jivvae was concerned only with the practices, power and rituals associated with being a queen, and Havil viewed his marriage as being no more than a political necessity; he certainly had no intention of letting it interfere with his private life. The king and his queen were seen together on formal occasions but otherwise their lives were their own separate affairs.
For Doo their indifference was offensive. Her idea of marriage was based on what she imagined hers would have been like had she married Chaldez. It was an ideal which the presumed death of Chaldez had sanctified, so there was something sacrilegious about the king and queen's non-marriage. On the other hand, she owed her position at court to Jivvae's friendship, and she took care not to expose her true feelings.
When winter was over Jaejisir, Cregitzig and their combined forces sailed for Grendeem, the Laifyan state from which Jaejisir and his men had been driven some eight months earlier.
Almost as soon as they were gone, a mob took to the streets of Budenrath. It laid siege, briefly, to the royal castle, and before the Theigan garrison eventually regained control, a number of Theigan officials and their Kroyan collaborators had been put to death.
Havil was profoundly alarmed. "They would have killed us all," he told Taddig, and he complained that he and his household had become little better than prisoners within the castle. "I can't even go hunting when I want to," he said.
Taddig's solution was to transfer the court to Taigram's favourite residence, a castle on the upper reaches of the River Raven. The near-by town was Bodegan, a smaller and less volatile place than the capital.
Doo and Jivvae, who had been terrified by the three days of street rioting, were greatly relieved when Havil announced the court's removal.

Before leaving, Havil told Taddig "I will return as soon as things have settled down and if, in my judgment, the situation is sufficiently safe I will send for the queen. In the meantime you will remain here and keep me informed about what you are doing to make this kingdom secure."
"I will do whatever is necessary," Taddig said.
Havil thought about that for a moment. "You will do whatever I think is necessary. You will be my representative here; my cipher - no more, no less. You will do nothing that you think I might not whole-heartedly approve of . . . " and he rambled on, giving sometimes-ambiguous, often-contradictory instructions. Taddig, hands clasped in front of him and his head bowed, said "yes," at appropriate intervals.
Taigram's castle on the Raven had been disused throughout Babra's reign; a great deal needed to be done to make it habitable, and when the court arrived little more than a start had been made. Everyone was dismayed, especially Havill. He loathed disorder, and the place was a shambles. Taddig, he told himself, would have had it sorted out in no time, and he wished now that he had not left him behind.
Jivvae, assuming that a knowledgeable, competent person was in charge, did nothing to interfere, but after the first few days, she realised that this was not the case. No one seemed to know what was going on, and she began, tentatively, to issue her own instructions.
When Havil found out he was furious. He sent for her at once.
Jivvae listened to his thinly-disguised rebuke, and then in no uncertain terms let him know just how hurt and outraged she was at the injustice of it.
For a moment Havil was dumbfounded; no woman had ever spoken to him like that before, and his reaction, when his mind had clicked back into gear, was to scream and stamp his feet.
Jivvae said "My father will hear of this," and turning her back on him, walked towards the door.
"Bring her back here!" Havil yelled at his guard, but when the officer approached her she turned on him and said "Don't touch me" with such vehemence that he dared not disobey.
Her strength of will was overpowering, and Havil knew then, instinctively, that he would never be able to command her obedience. Humiliation and impotency crushed him, but Jivvae, instead of leaving the room in triumph, returned to where he was standing, fell to her knees at his feet, reached for his hand and asked for his forgiveness. At that moment Havil started to fall in love with her. And Jivvae, while performing the rituals of submission, knew that she was in fact confirming her conquest. Never before in her life had she thrilled to such a feeling of exultant power.
Havil's love for her was to turn into an obsession, and she loved his obsession. She also grew quite fond of Havil. They became inseparable. He fawned over her, he praised her, he deferred to her in everything, and she repaid him with the tiny gestures of approval for which he craved. She displayed a kind of regal forbearance, tolerating his funny little ways with fathomless patience, and both were content; he needed her as much as she needed him, and the harmony of their relationship impressed everyone who witnessed it. For Doo it was perfection; it elevated Havil and Jivvae to the status of gods, almost. And far from losing Jivvae's friendship, she gained a king's. The three of them, each interdependent on the other, formed a close, self-sustaining community. Inexorably the court closed in, and in the world outside, Taddig's energy and ingenuity ensured that nothing unpleasant might impinge upon it.