Looking different can be hazardous; I have had a crop full of what that hazard can be. Displaying too much power can incite as much envy as anything else, and the envious, when powerful, are often moved to try and help themselves to what has excited that envy, at whatever cost to the current owner.
Still, Harperus claimed that he had 'connections' at the court of Theovere, and given the dangerous trends of the past two years, he and his people had felt it was time to employ those 'connections.'
Theovere was a music lover of the most fanatic vein; apparently this was what had been occupying the time he should have been spending doing his duty as High King. Originally, Harperus was going to offer Theovere one of the music machines and a set of memory-crystals as a blatant bribe for a little more influence in legislation, but since the time that original plan had been conceived, he had evolved a better one_
Better, not just because it means no dangerous 'technology' will be in the hands of those who might somehow manage to find an unpleasant use for it, but because it will mean_or so he thinks_that he will have a direct influence instead of an indirect one.
T'fyrr sighed, flipped his wings to position them more comfortably, and drummed his talons on the table. He was not looking forward to this. Harperus' plan was to have T'fyrr appointed as an official Court Musician to the High King himself. Harperus was unshakably certain that once the High King heard T'fyrr sing, the Haspur would become a royal favorite. And once a nonhuman was a royal favorite, it would be much more difficult for other interests to get laws restricting the rights of nonhumans past the High King.
Interests such as the human Church, perhaps... though I am not particularly sanguine about one Haspur being able to overcome the interests of the Church, however optimistic Harperus may be. Religion rules the heart, and the heart is the most stubborn of adversaries. Rule the religion, and you rule the heart, and no one can oppose you_unless what you offer is better. Then, you must convince them that what you have is better, and people will die to hold on to what they already believe....
T'fyrr twitched his tail irritably. Harperus was optimistic about a great many things_and T'fyrr did not share his optimism in most of them.
Even if we can get in to see this High King, there is no guarantee he will be impressed with my singing. Even if he is, there is no guarantee that he will actually do anything about it personally; and from what I have seen, if he leaves my disposition up to his underlings, they will find a way to 'lose' me. No, Harperus is counting on a great deal of good luck, and good luck seems to have deserted me.
T'fyrr glanced out the windows again and was impressed, though in a negative fashion, by the homes he now passed. These dwellings_each a magnificent work of art, each set in its own small park and garden_were clearly owned by those of wealth and high rank. And the guards on that gate they had passed showed just how unlikely it would be for a commoner to get access to these lovely garden-spots.
So the low and poor must crowd together in squalor, while the wealthy and high live in splendor. If I were low and poor_I think I would go elsewhere to live. My home would still be poor, but at least I would have sunlight and fresh air, green things about me and a little peace.
But_perhaps these humans enjoyed living this way. Starlings certainly did. That made them even less understandable.
Not that he had come close to understanding them so far. The humans' own Sacrificed God spoke of fairness and justice and faith in the goodness of others. These things should prevent believers from doing harm to strangers. Why should an underling, clearly seeing his superiors doing vile things to another living being, believe that those things were justified? How could he be convinced that another being, who had done no harm, was a monster worth destroying? How could such a man be so convinced that those superiors were correct that he would spend his own life to carry out their will?
Perhaps those superiors were right; perhaps T'fyrr was as potentially evil as they claimed. After all, he was the one who had killed. Perhaps he misunderstood what the Sacrificed God was all about_after all, if the Deliambrens could make white into black, maybe the humans could, too.
I only hope that Harperus' plan works as well as he thinks it will, T'fyrr thought, depression settling over him again. I might somehow redeem myself, if only I can be in a position where I can do some real good_or perhaps this helplessness to affect anything for the better is punishment for my evil....
T'fyrr was not as expert at reading human expressions as he would have liked, but there was no mistaking the look the Court official facing them wore on his refined visage.
Disdain.
Not all of Harperus' Deliambren charm or magic had been able to remove that look from the face of this so-called 'Laurel Herald.' He had taken in the splendor of Harperus' costume_a full and elaborate rig that made the Deliambren look to T'fyrr's eyes rather like one of those multitiered, flower-bedecked, overdecorated cakes that some races produced at weddings and other festivities. He had watched the coach drive itself off to a designated waiting place with a similarly lifted brow. Of course, he was probably used to seeing similar things every day, and his livery of scarlet and gold, embroidered on the breast with a winged creature so elaborately encrusted with gold bullion that it was impossible to tell what it was supposed to be, was just as ornate in its way as Harperus' costume. He sat behind a huge desk_a desk completely empty so far as T'fyrr could see_in the exact center of an otherwise barren, marble-walled and mosaic-floored chamber. The walls were covered with
