“We are speaking the same language.”
“Perhaps we are, but when I return to my . . . my mentor, I must be sure. Let us see. I understand you tortured the minister of the Shah to extract information from him.”
Terceth flushed and turned his face away.
“We attempted to persuade him,” grated Ogberd.
“That’s what I meant by difference in language,” Genevieve said, shaking her head. “You say persuade, I say torture. So, when I go back to my mentor, I will say to … him, the Aresians are torturing the Mahahmbi.
“Now, it is my understanding that you wish to gain access to the long-life stuff the Shah of Mahahm has made available to Haven and to certain outside worlds, is that correct?”
Lokdren snarled, “Quite correct.”
“And you will use anypersuasion to gain this access. Will you murder for it?”
“Why should it be necessary to murder or persuade for it,” grated the Chieftain, “once we are told what we need to know?”
“The substance is potentiated by being mixed with the blood of young mothers,” said Genevieve. “Each dose requires that a young woman be slain.”
“Uncovenantly bitch,” bellowed the Marshal from the rear of the tent.
“Traitoress,” cried the Prince, more feebly.
“Nonsense!” said the Chieftain between his teeth.
“Not nonsense, no. The reactions of your prisoners should tell you I speak the truth. Whether you believe me or not, I will tell you nothing but the truth.”
“Father,” said Terceth, reaching out his hand. “I don’t think . . .”
“No,” snarled Ygdale. “You don’t think, but I do! None of us like the steps to which we are driven, but I have a world to consider.” He strode to the back of the tent where he stared at the two men there for a long time, twisting his mustache the while and lifting one nostril as though to sniff something out that eluded him. At length he returned, saying, “Tell your . . . mentor, that we regret finding it necessary to make some sacrifices . . .”
“Ah,” she said. “That is very much what the noblemen of Haven and the men of Mahahm have always done. Even your vocabulary is similar to theirs. On Haven we women were taught resignation. On Mahahm they were drugged into acceptance. Even so, eventually one runs out of young women. Are you prepared to abduct women from other worlds to make this medicine?”
“Father,” cried Terceth. “Think what she’s saying!”
His father snarled to his guards, “Take my youngest son to his tent.” Then, when they had escorted him away, to Genevieve, “We consider that our first responsibility is to our own families. Our children. Our wives.”
“No,” Genevieve interrupted him. “The medicine does not work on women. You will have to sacrifice your own wives and daughters.”
Silence for a long moment, then, reluctantly he said, “If doing so will restore life to our world …”
“Only the lives of old men. No others.”
“But men are the real Aresians,” blustered Lokdren. “Ours is a very masculine world. We revel in masculine things . . .”
“Men who take this medicine do not revel,” she said. “They do not sport, or dare. They are impotent, but greedy for life. They do not ride or hunt or take any risks at all, but every few days they drink the blood of slaughtered women.”
“Still . . .” murmured Lokdren.
“Wisdom comes with age,” said the Chieftain ponderously. “Perhaps through wisdom we will learn some way to avoid the necessity . . .”
“An interesting interpretation of wisdom,” she said. “So when I return to my mentor, I am to say you are willing to sacrifice and persuade in order to become wise?”
“What makes you think you will be allowed to return with your telling?” grated the Chieftain. “I allowed you to speak merely to see what you had to say of interest. Now you have said it, and it is not of interest! Do you think you, yourself will not be affected by thepersuasion of your husband, by thesacrifice of your child!”
“Oh, I would be affected,” she said. “I would tell you anything you want to know.”