‘It has to do with the feeling of it, Sparhawk. The presence of any given person is more than just the way he looks or the sound of his voice. It also involves the way he thinks – and probably more important, the way he feels about Aphrael. She surrounds herself with that. When you bring in different people, you change the way it feels, and that throws her off balance.’ She looked at him. ‘You didn’t understand a word of that, did you?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did. How about Vanion? He loves her as much as Tynian does, and she loves him too. He’s been more or less with us in spirit since all this started anyway, and he is a knight, after all.’
‘Vanion? Don’t be absurd, Sparhawk.’
‘He’s not an invalid, you know. He was running footraces back in Sarsos, and he was still as good as ever with his lance when we fought the Trolls.’
‘It’s out of the question. I won’t even discuss it.’
He crossed the room, took her wrists in his hands and kissed her palms. ‘I love you dearly, little mother,’ he told her, ‘but I’m going to override you this time. You can’t wrap Vanion in lamb’s-wool for the rest of his life just because you’re afraid he might scratch his finger. If you don’t suggest him to Aphrael, I will.’
She swore at him in Styric. ‘Don’t you understand, Sparhawk? I almost lost him.’ Her heart was in her luminous blue eyes. I’ll die if anything happens to him.’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to him. Are you going to ask Aphrael about it, or would you rather have me do it?’
She swore at him again.
‘Where did you ever learn that kind of language?’ he asked mildly. ‘if that takes care of our problem, I’m a little overdue at the bedroom door.’
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘It’s time for the kissing and making up. There’s supposed to be a certain rhythm to these things, and if I wait too long to soften Ehlana’s displeasure, she’ll begin to think I don’t love her any more.’
‘Do you mean her performance here tonight was nothing more than an invitation to the bedroom?’
‘That might be putting it a little bluntly, but there was some of that involved, yes. Sometimes I get busy and forget to pay as much attention to her as I should. She’ll only let that go on for just so long before she makes a speech. The speech reminds me that I’ve been neglecting her. We kiss and make up, and everything’s all right again.’
‘Wouldn’t it be simpler if she just came right out and told you in the first place without these elaborate games?’
‘Probably, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun for her. You’ll excuse me?’
‘Why do you always avoid me, Berit-Knight?’ Empress Elysoun asked with a disconsolate little pout.
‘Your Highness misunderstands me,’ Berit replied, flushing slightly and keeping his eyes averted.
‘Am I ugly, Berit-Knight?’
‘Of course not, your Highness.’
‘Then why don’t you ever look at me?’
‘It’s not considered polite among Elenes for a man to look at an undressed woman, your Highness.’
‘I’m not an Elene, Sir Knight. I’m a Valesian, and I’m not naked. I have plenty of clothes on. If you’ll come to my chambers, I’ll show you the difference.’
Sparhawk had been looking for Sir Berit to advise him of their upcoming journey, and he had just rounded a corner in the hallway leading to the chapel to find his young friend trapped once more by the Empress Elysoun. Since Emperor Sarabian’s entire family was inside the castle as a security measure, Berit’s escape routes had been seriously curtailed, and Elysoun had been taking advantage of the situation outrageously. The Emperor’s Valesian wife was a brown-skinned, sunny girl whose native costume left her unashamedly bare-breasted. No matter how many times Sarabian had explained to Berit that customary moral strictures did not apply to Valesians, the young Knight remained steadfastly respectful – and chaste. Elysoun had taken that as a challenge, and she had been pursuing the poor young man relentlessly. Sparhawk was just on the verge of speaking to his friend, but he smiled instead and stepped back round the corner to listen. He was the interim Preceptor of the Pandion Order, after all, and it was his duty to look after the souls of his men.
‘Do you always have to be an Elene?’ Elysoun was asking the knight.
‘I am an Elene, your Highness.’
‘But you Elenes are so boring,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you be a Valesian for just one afternoon? It’s much more fun, and it won’t take very long, you know – unless you want it to.’ She paused. ‘Are you really a virgin?’ she asked curiously.
Berit turned bright red.
Elysoun laughed delightedly. ‘What an absurd idea!’ she exclaimed. ‘Aren’t you even a little curious about what you’ve been missing? I’ll be happy to take that tiresome virginity off your hands, Berit-Knight – and it won’t even hurt very much.’
Sparhawk took pity on the poor fellow and intervened at that point. ‘Ah, there you are, Berit,’ he said, stepping round the corner and speaking in Tamul for the Empress’s benefit. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. Something’s come up that needs our attention.’ He bowed to the Empress. ‘Your Imperial Highness,’ he murmured, ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to commandeer your friend here for a while. Matters of state, you know.’
The look Elysoun gave him had daggers in it.
‘I was sure your Highness would understand,’ he said, bowing again. ‘Come along, Berit. The matter’s serious, and we’re late.’ He led his friend off down the opalescent corridor as Empress Elysoun glared after them.
‘Thanks, Sparhawk,’ Berit said with relief.
‘Why don’t you just stay away from her?’
‘I can’t. She follows me everywhere. She even trapped me in the bath-house once – in the middle of the night. She said she wanted to bathe with me.’
‘Berit,’ Sparhawk smiled, ‘as your preceptor and spiritual guide, I’m supposed to applaud your devotion to the ideals of our order. As your friend, though, I have to tell you that running away from her only makes matters worse. We have to stay here in Matherion, and if we stay long enough, she will get you. She’s very single-minded about it.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed that.’
‘She’s really quite pretty, you know,’ Sparhawk suggested tentatively. ‘What’s your difficulty with the notion of being friendly?’
‘Sparhawk!’
The big Pandion sighed. ‘I was afraid you might look at it that way. Look, Berit, Elysoun comes from a different culture with different customs. She doesn’t see this sort of thing as sin. Sarabian’s made it quite clear that he wants some of us to accommodate her, and she’s chosen you as the lucky man. It’s a political necessity, so you’re just going to have to set these delicate feelings aside. Look upon it as your knightly duty, if it makes you feel any better. I can even have Emban grant you an indulgence if you think it’s necessary.’
Berit gasped.
‘You’re starting to embarrass us,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Elysoun’s been making Sarabian’s life miserable about the whole thing. He won’t step in and order you to do as she asks, no matter how much she nags him, but he quite obviously expects me to speak with you about it.’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying this, Sparhawk.’
‘Just go ahead and do it, Berit. Everybody expects you to. You don’t have to enjoy it if you don’t want to, but do it. Do it as often as you have to, but make her stop screaming at the Emperor. It’s your duty, my friend, and after you and Elysoun have romped around the bedroom a few times, she’ll start looking for new playmates.’
‘But what if she doesn’t?’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much. Patriarch Emban’s got a whole saddle-bag full of indulgences if it should turn out that you really need them.’
The failed uprising had given Emperor Sarabian the perfect excuse to escape from his government. Feigning cowardice, he had flatly declared that he felt safe only within the walls of Ehlana’s castle, and then only if the moat remained full and the drawbridge raised. His ministers, long accustomed to arranging his every move, found that terribly inconvenient.
Sarabian had not been motivated entirely by a desire to breathe the air of relative freedom, however. Interior Minister Kolata had been revealed as a traitor during the coup-attempt, but Sarabian and his Elene friends had decided that the time was not yet right to publicly reveal his treachery. So long as the Emperor remained inside Ehlana’s castle, Kolata’s presence there as well was fully explained. He was in charge of the police, after all, and the protection of the Emperor was his paramount duty. The Interior Minister, closely supervised by Ehlana’s cohorts, directed the police forces of the Empire from inside the walls. His meetings with his underlings were always just a trifle strained, since Stragen customarily sat beside him with one hand idly resting on the hilt of a dagger.
It was early one morning when Ambassador Norkan, the Tamul emissary to the court of King Androl and Queen Betuana of Atan, was escorted into the gleaming imitation throne-room in the castle. Norkan wore his usual golden mantle and a puzzled expression. Though he tried to conceal the fact, he quite obviously disapproved of the fact that his Emperor was dressed in western-style doublet and hose of a rich plum color. ‘Have you gone and stolen my Emperor too, Queen Ehlana?’ he asked with a perfunctory bow. Norkan was a brilliant man, but he had an unfortunate tendency to speak his mind quite openly.
‘What a thing to say, your Excellency,’ Ehlana protested mildly in nearly perfect Tamul. Ehlana was technically the hostess here, so she sat on her throne wearing her formal crimson robe and a golden crown.
