The others looked at one another with upraised brows. Every man present, including the elder sons of the Chieftain, was serving in anticipation of a just reward, but if they couldn’t find out where the reward was, then the past two years plus whatever time they spent in the future could turn out to be a waste of futures that were already threatened.
“So?” asked someone from a corner of the room.
“So,” Ogberd breathed, “the Chief is going to decide. If we can’t find out in a reasonable length of time, he’s going to invade.”
“The whole planet?”
“Havenor here, and Mahahm-qum in Mahahm. That way we’re bound to net at least a few of the people who know.”
“And what’s a reasonable length of time?” asked the same voice.
“Not long,” panted Ogberd, gritting his teeth. “Not long at all.”
10: The Lord Paramount’s Elevator
Very near the beginning of his reign, Marwell, Lord Paramount of Haven, had had a secret elevator built in a hidden shaft that dropped from his bed chamber behind the throne room into the lowest levels beneath the palace. No one but himself knew of this or even suspected it. The Lord Paramount went to his bed chamber openly each evening, summoning his servants there, and so far as anyone knew, the only access was through one of two doors, the one behind the throne room, which was always guarded, and the one from the servants’ hall, which was always observed. Over the decades, Marwell’s sleeping chamber had been repeatedly planted with listening devices and recorders by palace servants, bribed to do so by Prince Delganor. The chamber had been, as repeatedly, cleared of all such trifles by the same men, paid by Marwell himself.
Though the Prince had bribed the Lord Paramount’s servants at least twenty times to search the chambers behind the throne room, nothing useful had been found there. The men who had built the shaft and the elevator several centuries before had known all about it, of course, but they had been sequestered while doing the work and had not lived long enough afterward to tell anyone. By this time, the secret elevator held a comfortable chair along with various weapons and items of clothing and equipment, and its corners were stacked ceiling high with Haven’s entire supply of P’naki, which it was the Lord Paramount’s practice to dole out at need.
The older the Lord Paramount became, the more lightly he slept, the more often he checked the elevator’s contents and mechanical readiness, and the more often he supplied the elevator with small necessities which by now included his second-best crown and an ordinary, anonymous set of clothing and shoes, just in case, he sometimes told himself, he needed to disappear for a while.
“For a while,” was always part of the thought. He never, even in his most suspicious moments, supposed that he would have to disappear permanently.
11: Various Visitations
The morning following Genevieve’s departure, while the Marshal sat at breakfast, Her Grace the Duchess of Merdune was announced by Halpern. She sailed in around the butler, rather disconcerting the Marshal, who had not heard them coming.
“Madame,” said the Marshal, rising. “You’ll be wanting my lazy daughter, who is not yet out of bed.”
“Do sit down, Marshal,” she said, going to the sideboard, where an elaborate breakfast was arranged. “Let me join you for a cup of tea, perhaps one of these scones. Ah! Zybod ham left over from last night. Delicious! I must have a slice of that! Actually, it’s you I’ve come to see.”
“Me? Well, Madame, I’m flattered. What can an old war horse do for you?”
A footman brought her plate from the sideboard as she sat in the chair nearest the Marshal, leaning confidentially toward him. “An old war horse can be understanding, sir. You can be understanding.”
“Of what?” he asked, drawing back suspiciously.
“Of why Genevieve has left home.”
He snorted. “Left home? Nonsense, woman. She’s upstairs in bed.”
“I think not. I’m almost sure she’s gone away. . . .”
The Marshal’s eruption interrupted her. He shouted for a footman, telling him to find Delia, Genevieve’s maid, and bring her here, at once. The Duchess sighed and concentrated on her breakfast while Delia arrived, was sent away, and returned rather ashen in the face to confirm that Genevieve was indeed gone.