“It may take a while.’ Vanion’s tone was troubled.
The writhing, half-formed shape of the flame-like Cyrgon partially
rose and waved one huge, fiery arm, and a half-mile or so
behind the Trolls there suddenly appeared a vast glittering.
‘He’s called up his Cyrgai!’ Khalad shouted. ‘We’d better do
something. ‘
‘Ghworg! Schlee~’ Vanion roared in Bhelliom’s huge voice.
‘Cyrgon hath summoned his children. Now may your children
feast!’
The Troll-Gods swelled even more enormous and barked
sharp commands to their prostrate worshipers. The Trolls
scrambled to their feet, turned, and looked hungrily at the
advancing Cyrgai drawn from ages past. Then with a great roar
they rushed toward the banquet Cyrgon had so generously
provided.
Ehlana was tired. It had been one of those exhausting days with
so many things to do that nothing had been really wrapped
up before the next intruded itself. She had retired to the royal
bedroom with Mirtai, Alcan and Melidere to prepare for bed.
Danae trailed along behind them, dragging Rollo by one hind
leg and yawning broadly.
‘The Emperor was in a peculiar humor this evening,’ Melidere
noted, closing the door behind them.
‘Sarabian’s nerves are strung a little tight right now,’ Ehlana
said, sitting down at her dressing-table. ‘The future of his whole
empire hinges on what Sparhawk and the others are doing in
the north, and there’s no way he can keep track of what’s going
on up there.’
Danae yawned again and curled up in a chair.
‘Where’s your cat?’ Ehlana asked her.
‘She’s around somewhere,’ Danae replied sleepily.
‘Check my bed, Mirtai,’ Ehlana instructed. “I don’t like furry
little surprises in the middle of the night.’
Mirtai patted down the canopied royal bed and then dropped
to her knees to look under all the furniture. ‘No sign of her,
Ehlana,’ she reported.
‘You’d better go find her, Danae,’ the queen said.
‘i’m sleepy, mother,’ Danae objected.
‘The sooner you find your cat, the sooner you can get to bed.
Let’s catch her before she gets out of the castle this time. Go with
her, Mirtai. After you two find the cat put Danae to bed and
then see if you can locate either Stragen or Caalador. One of
them’s supposed to bring me a report on what’s going on at the
Cynesgan embassy tonight, and I’d like to get it out of the way
before I go to bed. I don’t want them banging on my door in
the middle of the night.’
Mirtai nodded. ‘Come along, Danae,’ she said.
The princess sighed. She climbed out of her chair, kissed her
mother, and followed the golden giantess out of the room.
Alcan began to brush the queen’s hair. Ehlana loved to have
her hair brushed. There was a kind of sleepy, sensual delight
in it that relaxed her tremendously. She was quite vain about
her hair. It was thick and heavy and lustrously blonde. Its pale
color was astounding to the dark-haired Tamuls, and she knew
that all eyes would be on her any time she entered a room.
The three of them talked, the drowsy, intimate talk of ladies
preparing for bed.
Then there was a polite tapping at the door.
‘Oh, bother,’ Ehlana said. ‘See who that is, Melidere.’
‘Yes, your Majesty.’ The Baroness rose to her feet and crossed
the bedroom to the door. She opened it and spoke for a moment
with the people outside. “It’s four of the Peloi, your Majesty,’
she said. ‘They say they have word from the north.’
‘Bring them in, Melidere.’ Ehlana turned to face the door.
The man who came through the door did not look all that
much like a Peloi. The clothing, tight-fitting and mostly leather,
was right, as was the saber at the man’s waist. His head was
shaved, as were the heads of all Peloi men, but this fellow’s face
was slightly tanned, whereas his scalp was as pale as the belly
of a fish. Something was wrong here.
The man behind the first wore a carefully trimmed black
beard. His face was very pale, and it looked somehow familiar.
The last two also wore Peloi garb and had shaved their heads,
but they were definitely not Peloi. The first was Elron, the juvenile
Astellian poet, and the second pouchy-eyed and slightly
tipsy, was Krager. ‘Ah,’ he said in his drink-slurred voice, ‘so
good to see you again, your Majesty.’
‘How did you get in here, Krager?’ she demanded.
‘Nothing easier, Ehlana,’ he smirked. ‘You should have kept
a few of Sparhawk’s knights here to stand watch. Church
Knights are more observant than Tamul soldiers. We dressed as
Peloi and shaved our heads, and no one gave us a second glance.
Elron here covered his face with his cloak when the Baroness
answered the door – just as a precaution – but otherwise it was
almost too easy. You have met Elron before, haven’t you?’
“I vaguely remember him, don’t you, Melidere?’
‘Why, yes, I believe so, your Majesty,’ the blonde girl replied.
‘Wasn’t he that literary incompetent we met back in Astel? The
one with delusions of grandeur? I’d hardly call those atrocities
he commits poetry, though.’
Elron’s face went suddenly white with outrage.
‘i’m not an expert in the area of poetry, ladies,’ Krager
shrugged. ‘Elron tells me that he’s a poet, so I take him at his
word. May I present Baron Parok?’ he indicated the first man
who had entered the room.
Parok bowed floridly. His face was marked with the purplish
broken veins of a heavy drinker, and his eyes were pouchy and
dissipated-looking.
Ehlana ignored him. ‘You’re not going to get out of here alive,
Krager. You know that, don’t you?’
“I always get out alive, Ehlana,’ he smirked. ‘My preparations
are always very thorough. Now I’d like to have you meet our
leader. This is Scarpa.’ He gestured at the bearded man. ‘i’m
sure you’ve heard of him, and he’s been absolutely dying to
make your acquaintance.’
‘He doesn’t look all that dead to me – yet,’ she noted. ‘Why
don’t you call the guards to remedy that, Melidere?’
Scarpa blocked the Baroness. ‘This bravado is quite out of
place in a mere woman,’ he said to Ehlana coldly in a voice
loaded with contempt. ‘You give yourself too many airs. All the
genuflecting and “your Majesty”s seem to have gone to your
head and made you forget that you’re still only a woman.’
“I don’t think I need instruction in proper behavior from the
bastard son of a whore!’ she retorted.
Scarpa’s face flickered a brief annoyance. ‘We’re wasting time
here,’ he said. His voice was deep and rich, the voice of a performer,
and his manner and gestures were studied. He had
obviously spent a great deal of time in the public eye. ‘We have
many leagues to cover before dawn.’
‘i’m not going anyplace,’ she declared.
‘You’ll go where I tell you to go,’ he said, ‘and I’ll teach you
your place as we go along.’
‘What do you hope to gain from this?’ Melidere demanded.
‘Empire and victory.’ Scarpa shrugged. ‘We’re taking the
Queen of Elenia hostage. her husband is so stupid that he forgets
that the world is full of women – one very much like
another. He’s so foolishly attached to her that he’ll give us anything
for her safe return.’
‘Are you such an idiot that you actually believe that my busband
will trade Bhelliom for me?’ Ehlana said scornfully. ‘Sparhawk
is Anakha, you fool, and he has Bhelliom in his fist. That
makes him a God. He killed Azash, he’ll kill Cyrgon, and he’ll
definitely kill you. Pray that he does it quickly, Scarpa. He has
it in his power to make your dying last for a million years if he
chooses.’
“I do not pray, woman. Only weaklings put any faith in Gods.’
“I think you underestimate Sparhawk’s devotion to you,
Ehlana,’ Krager said. ‘He’ll give up anything to gain your safe
return.’
‘He won’t have to,’ Ehlana snapped. ‘I’ll deal with the
four of you myself. Do you really think you can get out of here
when one word from me will bring half the garrison running?’
‘You won’t give that word, however,’ Scarpa sneered. ‘You’re
just a little too arrogant, woman. I think you need to know the
full reality of your situation.’ He turned and pointed at Baroness
Melidere. ‘Kill that one,’ he commanded Elron.
‘But…’ the pasty-faced literary poseur began to object.
‘Kill her!’ Scarpa snapped. ‘if you don’t, I’ll kill you!’
Elron tremblingly drew his rapier and advanced on the defiant
Baroness. “It’s not a knitting-needle, you clot,’ Melidere told
him. ‘You can’t even hold it right. Stick to butchering language,
Elron. You don’t have the skill – or the stomach – to move up
to people yet, although your so-called poetry’s bad enough to
make people want to die.’
‘How dare you?’ he almost screamed, his face turning purple.
‘How’s your “Ode to Blue” coming, Elron?’ she taunted him.