Niall was as much impressed by the king’s flow of words as by his reasoning; it was the first time in his life he had heard anyone speak so fluently. Kazak’s fine, masculine voice had an amazing range of tones, from caressing intimacy to passionate assertion. Niall found he was listening to it like music, yet at no point did he feel that Kazak was using it simply for effect.
He had to collect his thoughts to ask the question that was troubling him. “If the spiders kill the intelligent children, why do they need the desert people for breeding? We are more intelligent than most of these servants of the spiders.”
“A good question.” Kazak was like an approving schoolmaster, and Niall experienced a flash of pride. “The spiders spend ten generations reducing their servants to stupidity, and then find their servants turning into imbeciles. Where do you think the slaves come from? They’re the tenth generation of people deliberately bred for stupidity. That’s why they need new breeding stock — like yourself.”
“Like me?” Niall was taken by surprise.
“Of course. Your job will be to father children.”
Niall felt himself blushing. “And the women. . . how do they feel about it?”
Kazak said gravely: “They have no objection whatever. Except, of course, frustration at being segregated.”
Niall suddenly recalled the snub-nosed girl who had lured him into the bushes; for the first time, he understood what had been happening. The thought made his brain whirl.
Kazak said: “So I think you can begin to see why I chose to cooperate with the spider people. It was not simply a question of my own survival. It was a desire to do the best I can for my people. Of course, the men aren’t so badly off. But I don’t want to see the women turned into breeding machines — particularly my own daughter. She seems to be rather fond of you, by the way.” Niall felt himself flushing with pleasure and avoided Kazak’s eyes. “Then, of course, there’s your own mother. How would you like to see her penned up in the women’s quarters, producing a stranger’s baby once a year? Upsetting? You have the power to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
He drained his goblet and slowly refilled it, giving Niall time to reflect. Niall stared past the king’s head, through the window; the full moon was rising in the black night sky.
“Are you sure the spiders. . . the spider people want me to work for them?” he asked finally.
Kazak nodded. “Quite sure.”
“When I came in this afternoon, I felt they all wanted to kill me.”
“Of course. Because for them you represent a danger. If they were certain –” he emphasised the word — “that you were an ally, they’d soon feel different.”
Niall looked at him with polite disbelief. “You think they would?”
“Of course. They need your help.”
“But I killed one of their kind.”
“They don’t know that, and I shan’t tell them.”
“Won’t they guess?”
“Not if you don’t allow them to. As far as they’re concerned, the man who killed the spider is now dead — your unfortunate father. I was very sorry about that, by the way; I liked him. But we have to look at things practically. You killed a spider, they killed your father. Now you’re even, and it’s time to forget your grudges and work together.”
“What shall I have to do?”
“We’ll discuss that tomorrow. Then I shall take you to see the Spider Lord.” Niall went pale. “There’s nothing to fear. I think you’ll find the interview pleasant enough. I shall do most of the talking.”
“May I ask you one more question?”
“As many as you like, my dear boy.”
“How can you be certain they’re not deceiving you?”
Kazak smiled imperturbably. “You mean how can I be certain they won’t kill me when I’ve ceased to be useful? Simple logic. They need me. They need someone to organise all the human beings in this city, someone they can trust. That’s the point I’m making, Niall.” It was the first time he had called Niall by his name. “They need people they can trust. Why should they eat you or me? They’ve thousands — hundreds of thousands — of people they can eat whenever they want to. But they’ve almost no intelligent human beings they can trust. That’s what they really need. Besides, they’re not savages, you know. They’re highly civilised creatures. They have their thinkers and their artists and their statesmen — I’ve been talking with their leading statesman all afternoon, a spider called Dravig. You’d be amazed how fascinating these people are, once you get to know them.” He studied Niall’s expression and, recognised the shade of doubt. “I know what you’re thinking — that it’s hard to feel friendly towards people who are eating human beings. I feel the same. But if they trust you, they don’t mind you protecting those close to you. They accept that as normal and natural.”
“What about my mother and brother? Will you let them into the secret?”
Kazak frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Not yet, at any rate. I have to make up my mind that they can be trusted. You see, if they can’t be trusted, and we let them into the secret, we’re simply endangering their lives. I haven’t even let my own sons into the secret. It’s better for them not to know it.” He looked into Niall’s eyes. “And of course, I don’t have to emphasise to you how important it is to keep all this to yourself. The spider people are ruthless with those who betray their trust.”
Niall nodded. “I know.”
“Good.” Kazak leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “I think you and I are going to make a good partnership.” He clapped his hands. “Now, do you feel like more music?”
The girls came in. Without being bidden, the lute player took up her instrument and began to sing. The other girls joined in softly. Their singing was incredibly skilful and beautiful. But Niall found it difficult to concentrate. The thought of the secret filled him with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He already knew that Veig would refuse to cooperate. Veig’s nature was too straightforward; he would never feel anything but loathing for the spiders. As to his mother, how could she forgive the killers of her husband? If he now refused to cooperate with Kazak, he was condemning them to death. . .
Kazak touched him on the shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re falling asleep.” It was true that he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. “Would you like to go to your sleeping chamber?” Niall nodded gratefully. “Mirris, show him to his room — the one opposite Merlew’s. . .” He smiled at Niall. “Sleep as long as you like. You have a long day tomorrow. Don’t forget this.” He tossed Niall the metal cylinder.
Mirris was one of the two girls who had bathed him. She gave him a mischievous backward glance as she led him up the stairs. “The king seems fond of you.”
“Is he?”
“You ought to know!” She led him along a corridor whose carpet deadened their footsteps and flung open a door. He followed her into a bedroom that was so luxurious that for a moment he thought there must be some mistake.
“Are you sure this is mine?”
“Quite sure.”
The bed was at least two feet above the floor and covered with a gold-coloured cloth. Underfoot, the carpet felt as soft as young grass. The lights burned in tiny crystal vases, emitting a rosy glimmer.
She pulled back the coverlets. “Those are your night clothes.” She pointed to a blue garment that hung over the end of the couch. “Shall I help you to undress?”
For a moment he thought she was joking; when he saw her eyes were serious, he smiled. “No, I think I can do it alone.”
She gazed up at him and he could feel the radiated warmth of her body.
“But now you live in the palace, you don’t have to do things alone. We are here to do things for you. I could be your personal servant. Would you like that?”
“I’m sure the king would object.”
“Oh no, I’m sure he wouldn’t. Would you like me to ask him?”
It was then, quite suddenly, that Niall found himself aware of her thoughts. It seemed to happen because he was looking down into her eyes, and there was some natural sympathy between their minds. All at once, he knew that she was offering herself because the king had ordered her to. He also knew that she was delighted to obey — that there was nothing she wanted more than to be his servant. He only had to say the word, and she would regard herself as his property, to do with as he liked.
Then the thought of Merlew crossed his mind. He shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”