“Lord Chancellor” he began.
Puzzled, Langford stared at the man, then his face brightened in remembrance. Ah, she had arrived at last. Excellent.
“Since your health is on the mend, milord,” the chancellor said, standing at the table with an unreadable expression, “I have found a special gift for you. Which I am sure you will enjoy.”
“Really,” Kinnison said noncommittally, a hand creeping under the table to finger the trigger of the shotgun hidden there. After the revolt, the baron trusted nobody and nothing fully. Nor would he ever again. There was an old phrase that his father had once used”Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, die screaming, motherfucker.” Wise words, indeed.
Langford clapped his hands, and the doors were opened by armed men, who stood aside to let a fish-erwoman from the ville walk into the room. The woman was old but not aged, thirty, maybe forty years of age, with a scattering of gray in her thick blond hair. She walked with strength, and a full womanly figure moved tantalizingly beneath her loose dress. Her clothing was worn and patched, but very clean, with no loose threads or ragged hems.
“Who is this?” Kinmson asked the men at the table. “Some new slut for me to bed? A small gift, indeed.”
The woman stopped approaching at those words and smiled in amusement at the fat baron. “I will be the mother of your heir,” she said simply.
Kinnison waited, but there was no more coming.
“You?” the baron scoffed. “I can mount ten women a day if it pleases me. Each more beautiful than you. Why should I mount you instead of throwing you to my dogs?”
Sipping his water, Langford waited, letting the woman speak for herself. In this matter, she needed no assistance.
“My name is Deirdra, and my brother stole a blaster,” she replied, hands on her hips. “You lashed him for a day, then gave him your disease as a punishment. Fair enough, I suppose. But I tended to him for months before he finally died.”
“Yes, I recall the incident,” Kinnison said “And you do resemble him, somewhat. So what do you wish? A quick death from a firing squad, or a supply of jolt to ease the terrible pain?”
Deirdra held out an arm. “Examine my skin.”
The sec men in the room were alert as he waved her closer, and began to closely look at her face and arms. At first in contempt, but then in wonder. In growing astonishment, he lifted her skirt to see underneath; the condition of her feet would tell the truth. But she was wearing nothing underneath the loose dress and Kinnison saw every inch of the firm, clean body. Her lean legs showed no stretch marks, her belly flat without wrinkled folds of loose skin.
“I am a virgin,” she admitted, not ashamed or proud, but merely stating a fact.
“And immune,” Kinnison whispered, ripping the thin cloth. Then he turned on the other nobles. this some sort of a trick?”
“Never, my lord!” Langford cried.
“Try me,” Deirdra said, taking a small knife from the table and cutting her forearm. She passed the baron the blade, handle first. “Do the same and smear your blood on my wound. Nothing will happen.”
As if moving in a dream, Kinnison started to cut his arm, then dropped the knife.
“Everybody out,” he commanded harshly. “Including you, Lord Chancellor.”
Sensing his urgency, the men and serving girls quietly withdrew. Once the baron was alone with the woman, he stood and slid out a chair for her in unaccustomed courtesy. Nodding in thanks, Deirdra sat and turned to face him directly, with no evasion or sideway glances. A person was simply looking at him of her own free will. Kinnison could scarcely believe it was happening. His last reserves against her beauty crumpled at the simple action, and he leaned forward eagerly.
“What are your terms?” the baron asked, his heart pounding.
“I become the baroness,” Deirdra stated, her hands folded primly in her lap. “But if the first child is sick or not a boy, then you may chill me.”
He furrowed his brow. “That’s all?”