‘Things are still more or less the way they were when we left,’ the boy reported.
‘No open fighting in the streets, you mean?’ Ulath laughed.
‘Not yet. Things are a little hectic at the palace, though. It’s got something to do with documents of some kind. The whole government’s in an uproar. None of the people I talked with knew all that much about it. The Church Knights and the Atans are still in control, though, so it’s safe to jump from here to the courtyard of Ehlana’s castle if we want.’
Sparhawk shook his head. ‘Let’s ride in. I’m sure there are still Tamuls inside the walls, and probably half of them are spies. Let’s not give away any secrets if we don’t have to. Is Sarabian still staying in the castle?’
Talen nodded. ‘Your wife’s probably been teaching him a few tricks – “roll over”, “play dead”, “sit up and beg” – that sort of thing.’
‘Talen!’ Itagne exclaimed.
‘You haven’t met our queen yet, have you, your Excellency?’ Talen grinned. ‘I’d say that you’re in for a whole new experience, then.’
‘It has to do with setting up the new filing system, my Lord,’ the young Pandion at the drawbridge explained in reply to Vanion’s question. ‘We needed room to rearrange things, so we spread all the government files out on the lawn.’
‘What if it rains?’
‘That would probably simplify the job a great deal, my Lord.’
They dismounted in the courtyard and went up the broad stairs to the ornately carved main door, paused briefly to put on the cushioned shoes that protected the brittle floor-covering, and went inside.
Queen Ehlana had been advised of their arrival, and she was waiting for them at the door to the throne-room. Sparhawk’s heart caught in his throat as he looked at his lovely young wife. ‘So nice of you to stop by, Sir Sparhawk,’ she said tartly before she threw her arms about his neck.
‘Sorry we’re so late, dear,’ he apologized after they had exchanged a brief, formal sort of kiss. ‘Our travel plans got a little skewed.’ He was painfully conscious of the half-dozen or so Tamuls lingering nearby trying to look very hard as if they weren’t listening. ‘Why don’t we go on upstairs, my Queen? We’ve got quite a bit to tell you, and I’d like to get out of this mail-shirt before it permanently embeds itself into my skin.’
‘You are not going to wear that stinking thing into my bedroom, Sparhawk. As I remember, the baths lie in that general direction. Why don’t you take your fragrant friends and go make use of them? The ladies can come with me. I’ll round up the others, and we’ll all meet you in the royal quarters in about an hour. I’m sure your explanation of your tardiness will be absolutely fascinating.’
Sparhawk felt much better after he had bathed and changed into the conventional doublet and hose. He and his friends trooped on up the stairs that mounted into the central tower where the royal apartments were located.
‘You’re late, Sparhawk,’ Mirtai said bluntly when they reached the top of the stairs.
‘Yes. My wife’s already pointed that out to me. Come inside. You’ll need to hear this too.’
Ehlana and the others who had remained behind were gathered in the large, blue-draped sitting room. Sephrenia and Danae were conspicuously absent, however.
‘Well, finally!’ Emperor Sarabian said as they entered. Sparhawk was startled by the change in the Emperor’s appearance. His hair was tied back from his face, and he wore tight-fitting black hose and a full-sleeved linen shirt. He looked younger for some reason, and he was holding a rapier with the kind of familiarity that spoke of much practice. ‘Now we can get on with the business of overthrowing the government.’
‘What have you been up to, Ehlana?’ Sparhawk asked.
‘Sarabian and I have been expanding our horizons.’ She shrugged.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.’
‘I’m glad you brought that up. That very same thought’s been on my mind for the longest time now.’
‘Why don’t you just save yourself some time and unpleasantness, Sparhawk?’ Kalten suggested. Just show her why we had to take this little trip.’
‘Good idea.’ Sparhawk reached inside his doublet and took out the unadorned gold box. Things were beginning to get out of hand, Ehlana, so we decided to go fetch some reinforcements.’
‘I thought that’s what Tynian was doing.’
‘The situation called for something a little more significant than the Church Knights.’ Sparhawk touched the band of his ring to the lid of the box. ‘Open,’ he said. He kept the lid partially closed to conceal the fact that his wife’s ring was also inside.
‘What have you done with your ring, Sparhawk?’ she asked him, looking at the cover concealing the stone.
‘I’ll explain in a bit.’ He reached in and took out the Bhelliom. ‘This is why we had to leave, dear.’ He held up the stone.
She stared at it, the color draining from her face. ‘Sparhawk!’ she gasped.
‘What a magnificent jewel!’ Sarabian exclaimed, reaching his hand out toward the Sapphire Rose.
‘That might not be wise, your Majesty,’ Itagne cautioned. ‘That’s the Bhelliom. It tolerates Sparhawk, but it might pose some dangers to anyone else.’
‘Bhelliom’s a fairy-tale, Itagne.’
‘I’ve been re-assessing my position on various fairy-tales lately, your Majesty. Sparhawk destroyed Azash with Bhelliom – just by touching it to him. I don’t advise putting your hands on it, my Emperor. You’ve shown some promise in the past few months, and we’d sort of hate to lose you at this point.’
‘Itagne!’ Oscagne said sharply. ‘Mind your manners!’
‘We’re here to advise the Emperor, brother mine, not to coddle him. Oh, incidentally, Oscagne, when you sent me to Cynestra, you invested me with plenipotentiary powers, didn’t you? We can check over my commission, if you like, but I’m fairly sure I had that kind of authority – I usually do. I hope you don’t mind, old boy, but I’ve concluded a couple of alliances along the way.’ He paused. ‘Well,’ he amended, ‘Sparhawk did all the real work, but my commission put some slight stain of legality on the business.’
‘You can’t do that without consulting Matherion first, Itagne!’ Oscagne’s face was turning purple.
‘Oh, be serious, Oscagne. All I did was seize some opportunities which presented themselves, and I was hardly in a position to tell Sparhawk what he could or couldn’t do, now, was I? I had things more or less under control in Cynestra when Sparhawk and his friends dropped by. We left Cynestra, and…’
‘Details, Itagne. What did you do in Cynestra?’
Itagne sighed. ‘You can be so tedious at times, Oscagne. I found out that Ambassador Taubel was in bed with Kanzad, the Interior Ministry’s station-chief. They had King Jaluah pretty much dancing to their tune.’
Oscagne’s face went bleak. ‘Taubel’s defected to Interior?’
‘I thought I just said that. You might want to run a quick evaluation of your other embassies, too. Interior Minister Kolata’s been very busy. Anyway, I threw Taubel and Kanzad – along with the entire police force and most of the embassy staff – into a dungeon, declared martial law, and put the Atan garrison in charge.’
‘You did what?’
‘I’ll write you a report about it one of these days. You know me well enough to know that I had justification.’
‘You exceeded your authority, Itagne.’
‘You didn’t impose any limitations on me, old boy. That gave me carte blanche. All you said was to have a look around and to do what needed to be done, so I did.’
‘How did you persuade the Atans to go along with you without written authorization?’
Itagne shrugged. ‘The commander of the Atan garrison there is a fairly young woman – quite attractive, actually, in a muscular sort of way. I seduced her. She was an enthusiastic seducee. Believe me, Oscagne, she’ll do absolutely anything for me.’ He paused. ‘You might want to make a note of that in my file – something about my willingness to make sacrifices for the Empire and all that. I didn’t give her total free rein, though. The dear child wanted to give me the heads of Taubel and Kanzad as tokens of her affection, but I declined. My rooms at the university are cluttered enough already, so I don’t really have the space for stuffed trophies on the walls. I told her to lock them up instead and to keep a firm grip on King Jaluah until Taubel’s replacement arrived. You needn’t hurry with that appointment, my brother. I have every confidence in her.’
‘You’ve set back relations with Cynesga by twenty years, Itagne.’
‘What relations?’ Itagne snorted. ‘The Cynesgans respond only to na*ed force, so that’s what I used on them.’
‘You spoke of alliances, Itagne,’ Sarabian said, flicking the tip of his rapier. ‘Just exactly to whom have you committed my undying trust and affection?’
‘I was just coming to that, your Majesty. After we left Cynestra, we went on to Delphaeus. We spoke with their chieftain, the Anari – a very old man named Cedon – and he offered his assistance. Sparhawk’s going to take care of our side of the bargain, so there’s no cost to the Empire involved.’
Oscagne shook his head. ‘It must come from our mother’s side of the family, your Majesty,’ he apologized. ‘There was an uncle of hers who was always a little strange.’
‘What are you talking about, Oscagne?’
‘My brother’s obvious insanity, your Majesty. I’m told that things like that are hereditary. Fortunately, I favor our father’s side of the family. Tell me, Itagne, are you hearing voices too? Do you have visions of purple giraffes?’
‘You can be so tiresome sometimes, Oscagne.’
‘Would you tell us what happened, Sparhawk?’ Sarabian asked.
‘Itagne covered it fairly well, your Majesty. I take it that you Tamuls have some reservations about the Shining Ones?’
‘No,’ Oscagne said, ‘I wouldn’t call them reservations, your Highness. How could we have any reservations about a people who don’t exist?’
‘This argument could go on all night,’ Kalten said. ‘Would you mind, Lady?’ he asked Xanetia, who sat quietly beside him with her head slightly bowed. ‘If you don’t show them who you are, they’ll wrangle for days.’
‘An it please thee, Sir Knight,’ she replied.
‘So formal, my dear?’ Sarabian smiled. ‘Here in Matherion, we only use that mode of speech at weddings, funerals, coronations and other mournful events.’
‘We have long been isolate, Emperor Sarabian,’ she replied, ‘and unmoved by the winds of fashion and the inconstant tides of usage. I do assure thee that we find no inconvenience in what must seem to thee forced archaism, for it cometh to our lips unbidden and is our natural mode of speech – upon such rare occasions when speech among us is even needful.’
The door at the far end of the room opened, and Princess Danae, dragging Rollo behind her, entered quietly with Alean close behind her.
Xanetia’s eyes widened, and her expression became awed.
‘She fell asleep,’ the little princess reported to her mother.
‘Is she all right?’ Ehlana asked.
‘Lady Sephrenia seemed very tired, your Majesty,’ Alean responded. ‘She bathed and went directly to bed. I couldn’t even interest her in any supper.’
‘It’s probably best to just let her sleep,’ Ehlana said. ‘I’ll look in on her later.’
Emperor Sarabian had obviously taken advantage of the brief interruption to frame his thoughts in a somewhat studied archaism. ‘Verily,’ he said to Xanetia, ‘thy mode of speech doth fall prettily upon mine ear, Lady. In truth, however, thou hast been unkind to absent thyself from us, for thou art fair, and thine elegant mode of address would have added luster to our court. Moreover, thine eyes and thy gentle demeanor do shine forth from thee and would have provided instruction by ensample for they who are about me.’
‘Thy words are artfully honeyed, Majesty,’ Xanetia said, politely inclining her head, ‘and I do perceive that thou are a consummate flatterer.’
‘Say not so,’ he protested. ‘I do assure thee that I speak truly from mine heart.’ He was obviously enjoying himself.
She sighed. ‘Thine opinion, I do fear me, will change when thou dost behold me in my true state. I have altered mine appearance as necessary subterfuge to avoid affrighting thy subjects. For, though it doth cause me grave distress to confess it, should thy people see me in mine accustomed state, they would flee, shrieking in terror.’
‘Canst thou truly inspire such fear, gentle maiden?’ he smiled. ‘I cannot give credence to thy words. In truth, methinks, shouldst thou appear on the streets of fire-domed Matherion, my subjects would indeed run – but not away from thee.’
‘That thou must judge for thyself, Majesty.’
‘Ah – before we proceed, might I inquire as to the state of your Majesty’s health?’ Itagne asked prudently.
‘I’m well, Itagne.’
‘No shortness of breath? No heaviness or twinges in your Majesty’s chest?’
‘I said that I’m healthy, Itagne,’ Sarabian snapped.
‘I certainly hope so, your Majesty. May I be permitted to present the Lady Xanetia, the Anarae of the Delphae?’
‘I think your brother’s right, Itagne. I think you’ve taken leave of – Good God!’ Sarabian was staring in open horror at Xanetia. Like the dye running out of a bolt of cheap cloth, the color was draining from her skin and hair, and the incandescent glow that had marked her before she had disguised it began to shine forth again. She rose to her feet, and Kalten stood up beside her.
‘Now is the stuff of thy nightmares made flesh, Sarabian of Tamuli,’ Xanetia said sadly. This is who I am and what I am. Thy servant Itagne hath told thee well and truly what transpired in fabled Delphaeus. I would greet thee in manner suitable to thy station, but like all the Delphae, I am outcast, and therefore not subject to thee. I am here to perform those services which devolve upon my people by reason of our pact with Anakha, whom thou has called Sparhawk of Elenia. Fear me not, Sarabian, for I am here to serve, not to destroy.’