THE SEA HAG by David Drake

But the flies glittering in circles about a corpse were brilliant to watch also; and if there was liveliness in the eyes of the folk Dennis saw around him, it was only that. Rakastava was great, but it was dead; and the people who inhabited the city spun in their courses over carrion.

The King’s Champion quick-stepped toward the thrones. Dennis followed, lengthening his own stride instead of trying to match Gannon step for step. They reached the end of the carpet. Spectators were drifting along beside the newcomers, watching them avidly. There didn’t seem to be much formality in the arrangements, despite the way the newcomers had been greeted.

Buzzing flies, Dennis thought again. Aloud though in a low voice he said the Chester, “I don’t like this place at all. What’s wrong with them?”

“Do not be in haste to quarrel with a powerful ruler,” the robot quoted sharply. But a tentacle reached behind the youth and curled affectionately in his palm—his left palm, the hand he wouldn’t need if he had to draw the sword abruptly.

The red carpet was thick enough to feel comfortable under Dennis’ bare feet.

The pair of thrones provided Dennis with something other than vastness on which to focus. As he approached them, the visual scale of the room reduced to human norms. The face of the man seated to the right had wrinkles only about the eyes, but he was at least as old as Dennis’ own father.

Certainly he was older than the woman to his left. She was the most beautiful girl Dennis had ever seen.

“Most noble King Conall,” Gannon shouted, twenty feet from the thrones but still unable to sound impressive in a room so large. “Most gracious Princess Aria—”

There were ten or so additional men in decorative armor to either side of the thrones. An honor guard, Dennis supposed, like the one Ramos commanded at Emath.

And equally needless, it seemed. The men beside the thrones were older and paunchier than the ones who accompanied Gannon. Dennis suspected that the six who’d greeted him outside the gate were those who could throw on their accoutrements and race down the corridor in time to do so.

“I bring you Dennis of Emath,” Gannon was continuing. “A wayfarer who begs your hospitality.”

Dennis squeezed Chester’s limb and stepped past Gannon. His body had gone cold when he realized what he was about to do, but it wasn’t fear like that with which the dream wizard had struck him.

This was Dennis’ choice; his decision not to be belittled before strangers… one of whom was named Aria, and whose blond hair spilled from golden combs to the middle of her back.

“Sir,” he said, wondering if his own voice seemed as thin as that of Conall’s champion, “I’m indeed Dennis, and I’ve come from Emath where my father is king. But while I wish your friendship, I need beg from no man. The jungle fed and kept me on the way here. It’ll keep me again before I’ll become a burden anywhere I’m unwanted.”

Conall laughed and stood up.

“Pardon our insensitivity,” he said as he stepped forward, extending his hands toward Dennis. “Visitors are a rare pleasure to those of us who live in Rakastava. And as for a burden—”

He gestured with one hand while the other clasped Dennis in friendship. “There are no burdens here,” he said forcefully. “Rakastava is Paradise on Earth.”

Aria had stepped down beside her father. Her smile had as much of amusement as greeting in it. “At the very least, Prince Dennis,” she said in a clear voice pitched like a viola, “won’t you allow us to provide you with clothing? If only until you return to the jungle to have it provide for your needs.”

Dennis glanced down and blushed. He’d forgotten how ragged he looked. “Look,” he said, grimacing. “We’re traders in Emath. Traders and fishermen. Just Dennis is fine, please.”

Aria herself wore a dress of gauzy blue pastel, cinched with a waistbelt. The belt’s gold matched her combs and sandals, while her ring and earrings were clear, faceted jewels.

Around Aria’s neck was a silver chain. Three carven crystal balls, nested one inside the other and the largest no bigger than a walnut, hung between her breasts. The pendant moved when the girl did, but Dennis realized with a shock that there was no physical connection between the chain and the crystal.

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