Ylo glanced in astonishment at Lord Umpily, then at Acopulo, but obviously they were both as surprised as he.
The old scholar had stiffened, pale eyes bright, head tipped with avian alertness.”Describe her, Sire.”
“I have never seen her like. She must have been of mixed race. What little I could see of her face under her hood was quite unfamiliar to me, and I have traveled the length and breadth of the Impire. Her eyes were large and slanted, like an elf’s, but of a pale hue, not opalescent. Sort of yellow, I thought. Her skin was a brownish shade.”
The big jotunn jaw dropped and then clicked shut. Sagorn paled.”A broadish nose, like a faun’s?”
“Yes!”
“By the Powers!” the scholar muttered.
Evidently the old jotunn’s reputation for wisdom was not without foundation. Ylo caught Acopulo’s eye and saw both appreciation and annoyance there.
The imperor smiled faintly.”You will have to be more specific than that, Doctor.”
“Some friends of mine once met a group of young men fitting that description, four of them. I was told that they looked like a cross between imps, fauns, and elves.”
“And who were these people?” Shandie asked, his tone sharpening.
“They were pixies, Sire.”
Acopulo stumbled against the table, knocking over two candles. Ylo went for them and caught one just before it rolled to the floor.
“No one has seen a pixie in a thousand years!” the political advisor bleated.
Sagorn did not look at him.”I just proved you a liar. But that was in Thume, where a pixie might be understood, if not expected. This was on Hub’s doorstep. You comprehend, your Majesty, that the incident could have been an occult hoax? Any two-toed sorcerer could project visions on a body of water by moonlight.”
“But the visions led us here, to you. And to Master Jalon. I understand he also resides at this address.”
“And to Krasnegar,” Sagorn murmured, nodding.
“And to Krasnegar. You remember the faun sorcerer who—”
“I am well acquainted with Master Rap, or King Rap as he is now. We traveled widely together. One of my more satisfactory pupils.”
The audience exchanged pleased glances. Acopulo bared his teeth in a reluctant smile. Umpily rubbed plump hands together.”Then we seem to be getting somewhere!” Shandie exclaimed.”It all comes together! All roads lead to Rap. He befriended me when he was here, in Hub. My grandfather considered him the most powerful sorcerer in the world.”
“I believe that,” the jotunn said wryly.”And probably the only honest one.” He did not venture to explain.
“Then you believe that he will agree to help me once more?” The sage pouted.”I can commit neither kings nor sorcerers, your Majesty, but I do communicate with the faun now and then. I am confident that an appeal from me would carry weight with him. I am sanguine that he would remember certain moral obligations he owes me and would respond favorably, under those circumstances. ”
“Countess Eigaze has offered to intercede also on our behalf. She is a distant relative of Queen Inosolan and will be joining us here shortly.”
Sagorn pulled a face, but restrained his acerbic tongue.
“I propose to send my wife and child to some safe location,” Shandie said,”and Lady Eigaze has agreed to escort them.” He did not look at Eshiala, whose face was shadowed and unreadable.
Ylo wondered how she felt about the day’s shattering turn of events. Exile from the formal life of the court would seem an escape to her, in a way Shandie would not comprehend.
The bells grew louder and voices spoke down by the front door.
“That is probably the proconsul now,” Umpily said.
“The invitation would have to be carefully worded,” Sagorn mused, still working on the problem.”As a ruling monarch, King Rap has overriding responsibilities toward his own realm, of course.”
The door of the room flew open, and Hardgraa marched right in. Ylo stiffened at once, recognizing an untoward glint in that normally obscure countenance.
“But he also has a conscience,” the old scholar muttered, not looking up,”unlike most sorcerers.”
“His Honor, Proconsul Ionfeu!” Hardgraa proclaimed,”and Countess Eigaze. And his Majesty, King Rap of Krasnegar.” Sagorn sighed. ”And he has always had a flair for dramatic entrances.”
3
Shandie had sprung to his feet, staring at the big man who stepped forward. For a moment no one spoke.
Ylo had seen fauns often enough around stables, but never one this size. He was taller than anyone else present, except the jotunn, and the bulk of his heavy cloak made him seem clumsy. No one would ever call his face handsome. A purebred faun would have said it was too aggressive and a jotunn that it indicated far too much pure stubbornness. It impressed Ylo with the thought that its owner might be a very difficult opponent, were he on the wrong side. And he was a sorcerer—uncanny foreboding battled with relieved feeling that help had arrived.
“Rap!” the imperor whispered, still staring disbelievingly. ”Really Rap?”
A small, wry smile twitched the corners of the faun’s wide mouth, changing his appearance dramatically.”My, Shandie, but you’ve grown! I’ll bet you can’t wriggle through that transom into the Imperial Library anymore.”
“Ah, Rap!” The imperor strode forward; monarch impacted monarch in a mutual embrace.
Lady Eigaze was beaming happily at her husband. Sagom hauled himself stiffly to his feet. Shandie led the faun over to the chair to meet his wife and sleeping daughter.
Sorcerer? Ylo discovered that he had instinctively eased back against the cracked and peeling plaster of the wall. So had everyone else. The room was crowded now, with eleven people in it, for Hardgraa had remained to watch, but the onlookers were all giving the sorcerer a wide berth.
As he shook hands with Sagorn they eyed each other with what seemed to be mutual respect, but no obvious warmth. Then he moved on to the portly Umpily, waiting for Shandie to make the introductions.
The imperor frowned.”Your Majesty . . . Our Royal Cousin of Krasnegar . . .”
“Ugh! Why not just `Rap’?”
Shandie nodded brusquely.”Why not? But now that you are here, we can move back to more . . . to the palace?”
The big man was shaking his head gravely.”This is an excellent place for a confidential meeting. The building is shielded against sorcery. It is one of the most private locales in the city, and I vouch for Doctor Sagorn’s discretion. No, let us discuss the problem here before we go anywhere else. ”
Shandie was not accustomed to being overruled. Pique flickered over him like summer lightning, but even imperors did not argue with sorcerers.”Very well. However, we may not need quite so large an audience.”
Ylo almost laughed as he watched Umpily’s flabby face collapse in dismay. The snoopy chief of protocol would die of chagrin if he was banished from this epochal conference.
The king seemed to sense that, because his wry little smile twitched into view again. He thrust out a hand.”My name’s Rap,” he said, unnecessarily.
Bristling, Shandie made the introduction, then presented the others also. When Ylo’s turn came, he found the experience unnerving. He had never shaken hands with a ruling monarch before, or a sorcerer, and he felt as if the big gray eyes were drilling into his thoughts. Again he decided that he would not want to have this man as an enemy. Then he remembered that sorcerers could read minds . . . couldn’t they? He hoped no one was going to ask him about the preflecting pool.
Do not think about the preflecting pool!
The sorcerer shot him a curious glance before moving on to shake hands with Acopulo.
But the courtesies could not last forever, and when the faun had been all the way around the group, the time for business had clearly arrived. Without deferring to the imperor’s superior status, he brashly directed Eigaze to the second armchair—the impress, still holding her sleeping child, had not risen. Then he said offhandedly,”You want to sit there, Shandie?” indicating the high-back seat by the table.
“Perhaps not,” the imperor replied testily.
“Then Doctor Sagorn can rest his old bones on it.” Leaning back against the fireplace, King Rap looked over the company with an expression of unbelievable innocence.
Shandie smiled grimly.”Please do sit, Doctor. I’ll be fine here.” He perched on the arm beside his wife. Everyone else found a patch of wall, again leaving the sorcerer isolated. The room was unpleasantly stuffy already, the smell of wet clothes now more noticeable than dust or mildew.
It was a very strange setting for an historic conference. Ylo wondered if he would be listed in the history books; if there were to be any more history books. He recalled that he’d had much the same thought on Nefer Moor, just before the dragons came.
“I bring no good tidings,” the sorcerer said, suddenly grave. ”The only cheerful news I can give you is that I detect no magic on any of you—no loyalty spells or occult glamors or any abominations like that. I can’t be quite certain, because a better sorcerer could deceive me.”