We entered the Great Hall of Za from its west end, where the huge marble stairway sweeps down a hundred steps into the room. Like staring from a mountain peak at the snake carved pillars, a cypress tree of ebony and gold in the center, its branches touching a ceiling of gold lamps. There had been a fanfare at my entrance, they had cleared a lane for me; now, to a man, they bowed to me-heads dropped, most of the women on their knees. Contemptuously I glanced over them, and noted the ornamental false wings which drooped from many shoulders of both sexes.
I descended, and Vazkor approached and kneeled. I touched his head lightly, and said, “Rise, my husband,” after which he escorted me to a golden chair beneath the cypress tree. Here I sat throughout this first formal evening. There were entertainments-dancing and acrobatics I think-I hardly remember them. The High-Lords came to me and presented themselves. Each was arrogant, well-fed, and oddly in awe of me-except for the lord of Eshkorek. He was little, and bowed over like a man trying to withdraw inside himself; if he had possessed a shell like the tortoise, none
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of us would have seen him at all, I am certain. More than this, he was terrified of me, and I could tell quite plainly from the politely unmasked face and eyes that it was not my god-head he feared, but my Chosen One, Vazkor. There were some women too, rather lovely-princesses of the Cities, and concubines or wives of the Javh ovors.
Toward midnight the affair began to end. Vazkor and I withdrew together. I had already noted his apartments adjoined mine. We parted at my doors, but, a little later, one of my women told me he was waiting in my reception hall. There was, apparently, a communicating door between our anterooms, though I could not see it.
“This is very formal,” I said when I went out to him. He was masked as he usually was now with me, except on occasion in public.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” he said. “I will not keep you long. You did well tonight.”
“There was nothing for me to do.”
“Sometimes the manner in which nothing is done is important. Despite your curious entry into Za, they are very enamored of you. Do you recall the dark-haired woman Kazarl of So-Ess’ wife?”
“Not particularly.”
“Never mind. Shell be sending to you shortly, begging an audience.” He paused, but I said nothing so he continued. “She wants a child, I believe.”
“Am I supposed to give her one?”
“Indeed yes, Uastis. Though I imagine she does not expect you to do it in the normal fashion. You will promise her a conception.”
“And if she remains barren?” I asked. It seemed a pathetic request, and I was not certain I could help her.
“So-Ess,” he said deliberately, “is a friend.”
“And Eshkorek?”
He looked at me for a moment through the glass wolfeyes.
“Why do you ask?”
“The mountain lord seems to understand what this council is truly about.”
“There is danger in Eshkorek,” he said. “She is very much on her own, and very secure in her mountains. It’s necessary I have absolute control of her. It would be foolish to ride out against the dragon, leaving a dragon’s egg to hatch at home.” He nodded to me. “I’ll go now.”
About half an hour after he had left, a woman came to
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me from So-Ess’ wife, and minutes later the princess herself entered. She drew off her mask, and kneeled, a beautiful cold woman, well-suited by her ice-blue dress.
“Rise,” I said. “I know why you have come.”
She flushed slightly.
“Now,” I said, “tell me why the child is necessary.”
“But, goddess, unless I bear, I will be cast off.” She looked at me hollow-eyed. “I have prayed and longed for your coming to Za. You must help me-I am desperate.” Stiff proud woman, she was unused to pleading. I looked at her intently, and seemed to know her suddenly.
“You do not conceive because you do not enjoy your husband,” I said.
“It is true,” she said, and looked away.
“Enjoy him, and I promise you a child.”
She sobbed a little, and I thought of the southern people who dreamed they were the Old Race, yet still judged their women on the ability to bear, and still bred frigidity, because the act of sex to them was still such a tremendous curiosity.
“Come here,” I said. I touched her forehead and looked at her through the open eye-pieces of the cat mask. She flinched once, then relaxed.
“I will give you this ring,” I said. “Wear it whenever your husband comes to you, and you will have both fullfillment and a child.”
I touched her forehead again and put the ring on her finger. She thanked me profusely and left. It had been easy, after all, though I was not certain her belief in me was strong enough, for all her prayers.
I took what sleep I could between the strokes of the clock.
At Za I dreamed of Karrakaz many times, and they were strange dreams, not particularly frightening, but somehow desolate. My life was very empty. Yet I could not seem to break free from it. Where, after all, could I go? Nothing was left that might have belonged to me.
The Council met-So-Ess, Kmiss, Ammath, Za, Eshkorek, and Ezlann. Behind each Javhovor, an array of bodyguards and captains, behind my golden chair at the table head, Mazlek, Dnarl, and Slor. Vazkor had sent me a letter, directing me how and when to speak, and telling me the cues he would give me. Committing the precise words to memory, I thought of Darak’s only written message to me, the misspelling and erratic formation of the letters. Vazkor’s was an ele-
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gant and scholarly hand, which gave away nothing except that it would give away nothing.
At the first meeting there was a lot of talk about the war, the campaigns to come, honor, victory, and the final amalgamation of the three alliances. At each new utterance, they would look to Vazkor. He had them already, and they knew it-his decision, the powerful aura of his iron mind, the sense of mental Power that hung about him, had quelled them utterly. By what he said, and by what he had instructed me to say, they began to edge themselves toward the election of one total overlord. It was an amazing sight. I felt no pity for them, tangling themselves in Vazkor’s web. Except for Eshkorek, perhaps. He was not in awe-he was terrified, and there is a great difference. At the first meeting he held back, his head bowed. At the second and third meetings he was noisy in his silence. At the fourth coming-together the lord of So-Ess voiced the opinion that Vazkor, honored of the goddess, is should take possession of the five sisters of Ezlann. I recall I thought myself naive that I had not seen before So-Ess was a friend indeed, and Vazkor’s man into the bargain. I do not know what Vazkor had promised him, or how it had been done-possibly by the Power itself. I glanced around the table, and, like a dog sniffing out rats in the walls, abruptly I knew them all: So-Ess, Kmiss, and Za were his. Ammath was ready to fall. But Eshkorek .. . even as I reached him, he rose and stood there, bowed over, a bewildered, angry, frightened tortoise, sticking out its head at a serpent.
“No,” he said, “I do not think so.”
“What, my lord, do you not think?” Vazkor inquired.
“I do not think,” Eshkorek stammered, “I do not think any of our Cities should lose her independence.”
“There is strength in unity,” Vazkor said softly.
Eshkorek shook his head. He turned around to the others desperately. Surely he must know there was no help there?
“I simply say I do not think-”
“Truly, you don’t think,” broke in Kazarl of So-Ess stridently. “Purple Valley might turn on us all in the spring, and howl around our walls all summer. One petty argument between City and City-only one-and there is isolation and collapse. No. Safer to be under one rule. I’m happy to bow to it.”
“The war has never created such a situation before,” Eshkorek said. There was silence. Abruptly, impossibly, he turned to me. “Goddess,” he said, “I appeal to you.”
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I was astonished at his stupidity.
“Eshkorek Javhovor,” I said, “I am of one mind with my Chosen Lord.”
An incredible thing happened. I had seen it before, and I have seen it since, but it is always curious. Eshkorek s fear turned to fury. He made a great lashing movement with both his hands.
“You!” he screeched at me. “Vazkor’s witch-whore! Fine goddess for an ancient line to grovel before.”
The table erupted into righteous horror; soldiers drew their swords. Eshkorek grunted, turned, and walked from the room,