The High-Lord quavered: “It … the kilt… is the ancient garb … of the Ehleen warrior.”
“You?” Pardos snorted. “A warrior?” Then, tapping the blade on the cloth-of-gold breastplate, he added, “This is supposed to be a cuirass, I take it; why, it’d not turn a well-thrown pebble. As for your helmet …” He jabbed the silver-washed skewer through the stiffened cloth and snapped the entire contrivance up off Demetrios’ head, then flipped it to the red-haired woman.
“Payment for your kiss, Mahndah. Our guest is generous.” ‘
She placed the chapeau on her brown curls, then made a deep obeisance. “My deepest thanks, Lord Demetrios. — I’ll wear it in memory of you.”
Sweat streamed down the High-Lord’s fowls. He was now certain that this horrible monster intended to kill him when he had finished toying with him.
“Tch-tch,” clicked Pardos, noticing the copious perspiration. “You are unaccustomed to our climate here, cousin. You will be much cooler if you’ll but remove that heavy cape. Here … let me do it for you; after all, you are my guest.”
After unpinning the brooches, he disconnected one end of the gold chain and slipped the cape from the High-Lord’s shaking shoulders. Snapping the pieces together again, he turned and tossed them to the woman who knelt by the wine barrel.
“This is for the lad, Tildah. But never fear, there’ll be something pretty for you, ere long.”
Taking the High-Lord’s soft white hand, Pardos commenced to pull at the showiest ring, an emerald-cut diamond set in reddish gold.
Demetrios vainly tried to jerk his hand free of the crushing grip. “No!” he whimpered. “No, please, no. Oh, what have I done to you that you should so use me, my lord?”
The look that then came into Pardos’ black eyes stung his captive far more than did the contemptuous slap dealt him. The Sea Lord’s voice became glacial. “You are what you are, you gutless thing of unknown sex. But what is far worse is that I, God help me, am of the same blood as you; and you make it obvious that our blood is tainted.”
He might have said more, had not a hand grasped his shoulder and spun him about. Sergios had had to surrender sword and dirk and cuirass to gain admittance to-the courtyard, but when he saw his sovran struck, mere lack of weapons could not hold him back. When he confronted the pirate, the eyes that glared from beneath his helmet’s rim were every bit as hard as Pardos’ own.
“Dog and son of a dog!” he hissed in a low voice. “Has your house sunk so low that you forget who and what you are? We three are Ehleenoee—Kath’arohs nobles. As such, we do not degrade ourselves, or one another, before barbarians!”
Pardos looked honestly amazed at the interruption. But he snapped, “And who are you, my young cockerel, to instruct me in the manners of nobility?”
Sergios bowed stiffly, though his eyes never left those of Lord Pardos. “Lord Sergios, Admiral of Kehnooryos Ehlahs, my lord.”
Pardos nodded and his frown softened a little. “A fellow seaman, eh? And if my eyes don’t deceive me, a red man, as well. If you’re not this thing’s kind, why would you defend him?”
Sergios heaved a deep sigh. “Because I must be true to my word, my lord. High-Lord Demetrios is my sovran and, long ago, I swore to serve and protect him. Protect him, I will, my lord, to the last drop of my blood.”
Without warning, Pardos’ muscular arm shot out to the side. All he said was “Sword.” A short, heavy one was slapped into his waiting palm.
“Words lack intrinsic value without deeds to back them, Admiral Sergios,” said Pardos, stepping to the clear area before the large table and scuffing his boot soles on the tiles, the sword held casually at low guard. “Let us see some of that blood you’ve pledged this hunk of rotten offal.”
Instinctively, Sergios’ hand went to his scabbard, but came away empty. “My lord, my weapons are at your gate and…”
Pardos sneered. “To the last drop of your blood, eh? When you knew yourself to be unarmed and thought that fact would save you. Faghl You’re as bad as your mistress, here.” He waved contemptuously at Demetrios.