Adele’s face hardened. The cup was made from the brainbox of a human skull. For a moment Adele had permitted herself to imagine that the able use of technology made Dalbriggan a sophisticated planet.
The woman filled the cup, lifting the strap with her shoulder and squeezing the wineskin between her elbow and torso. The man handed the cup to the Dalbriggan on the end of the bottom row. He drank, an honest swallow, and passed the cup to the officer beside him. She drank as well and passed the cup in turn.
Four more had drunk before the last handed the cup to the servants to be refilled. The ceremony continued.
Adele didn’t let her mind wander; rather she slipped into a world where no one could touch her. It was a cold place and utterly colorless, but it was familiar to her. She’d spent a great deal of time in grayness since the day she learned that her family had been massacred, leaving Adele Mundy a destitute orphan.
She could function in this place but she couldn’t feel a thing; which was generally for the best.
There was a sound in front of Adele. Her eyes locked into focus with those of the cripple offering her the refilled cup. “No, thank you,” Adele said in a clear voice.
Daniel reached past her and took the cup. The bone was old; yellow on the outside, dark as the wine itself on the inside from generations of use.
“No!” said Kelburney. He stepped in front of Daniel on the broad tread and put his hand over the cup before Daniel could lift it. The Astrogator was taller than he’d seemed when the Cinnabars first entered the Hall, and his powerful wrists belied his slender appearance.
Kelburney wore a cloth-of-gold tunic over pantaloons of the same material. His wide belt and crossed bandoliers were scaly leather, sagging with the weight of ammunition, knives, and pistols in open-topped holsters. The weapons showed signs of hard use.
“She’ll drink from the cup, Captain Leary,” the Astrogator said, “or she leaves the Hall. That I swear, though a Cinnabar fleet orbits above us!”
Adele stared calmly at the tall Dalbriggan; her mind analyzed the situation as coldly as it would if she were not directly involved. Kelburney’s boast that he’d defy a Cinnabar fleet was just that, a boast. The Princess Cecile was the only RCN vessel present, however—and it was quite clear from Kelburney’s expression that his anger and determination were real. Tendons stood out on his neck.
Adele smiled. It appeared that the ceremony of the cup was a major aspect of Dalbriggan faith. Well, faith or not, it was equally important to Adele that she not sup with utensils made from human bodies.
“You misunderstand me, sir,” she said. The hidden director controlling the parabolic microphone picked up her voice and amplified it so the whole room could hear. “My religion forbids me to drink—”
As Adele spoke, her eyes holding the Astrogator’s, her left hand reached out and slid the pistol from the cross-draw holster at his left hip. She didn’t know the weapon, but the range was too great for the light projectiles of the pistol in her own pocket.
“—and requires that if I do—”
Kelburney felt the weight of the pistol withdrawing. He tried to grab Adele’s hand. Daniel caught his wrist. The two men remained locked together motionless. Kelburney’s expression changed to amazement; Daniel only appeared soft.
“—I must kill the person who compelled me,” Adele said.
She turned side-on to the far end of the Hall, the pistol extended in line with her left arm. She’d been trained as a duelist, not a pistolero.
The audience was shouting, but Adele doubted anyone was going to shoot at her so long as she was standing close to the Astrogator. The captains nearby on the dais were more of a threat, but they seemed willing to let matters take their course. Anyway, Adele couldn’t control what other people did.
She could only control the pistol in her hand.
The weapon was stone-axe simple, with only a post and ring for sighting. At this range, a little over a hundred yards, Adele wouldn’t have minded holographic magnification; but she’d make do.