The floor was formed of stone slabs cut into perfect circles. But the gaps between the circles were wide, deep, and dark. Any misstep might easily break an ankle. As a result, the company had to advance with care in order to approach the light.
The rest of the hall was also designed to be daunting. All the light was concentrated around the Auspice: skylights, flaming vats of oil with polished reflectors, vivid candelabra on tall poles cast their illumination toward the gaddhi's seat. And the Auspice itself was as impressive as art and wealth could make it. Rising from a tiered plinth of stairs, it became a monolith which reached for the ceiling like an outstretched forearm and hand. Its arm was crusted with precious stones and metals, and the hand was an aurora of concentric circles behind the seat.
The Auspice appeared to be enormous, dominating the hall. But after a moment Linden realised that this was a consequence of the light and the hall's shape. The ceiling descended as it entered the light, enhancing the Auspice with an illusion of more size than it truly possessed. Spangled with lumination and jewel-work, the seat drew every eye as a cynosure. Linden had trouble forcing herself to watch where she put her feet; and her apprehension tightened another turn. As she strove to walk forward without stumbling into the gaps which marked the floor all the way to the Auspice, she learned to understand The Majesty. It was intended to make everyone who came here feel subservient and vulnerable.
She resisted instinctively. Glowering as if she had come to hurl revolt at the sovereign of Bhrathairealm, she followed the Giants, took her place among them when Rire Grist stopped a short distance from the plinth of the Auspice. Around them, the Chatelaine spread out to form a silent arc before the gaddhi's seat. Looking at her companions, she saw that the Giants were not immune to the power of The Majesty; and even the Haruchai seemed to experience some of the awe which had led their ancestors to Vow fealty to Kevin Landwaster. Vain's blankness and Findail's unimpressed mien gave her no comfort. But she found a positive reassurance in the uncowed distinctness with which Covenant uttered his empty refrain:
“Don't touch me.”
She feared that she might be cunningly and dangerously touched in this place.
A moment later, another chime sounded. Immediately, the light grew brighter, as if even the sun had been called to attend the gaddhi's arrival. The hustin snapped into still greater rigidity, raising their spears in salute. For an instant, no one appeared. Then several figures came out of the shadow of the Auspice as if they had been rendered material by the intensity of the illumination.
A man led the way up onto the plinth. To each of his arms a woman clung, at once deferential and possessive. Behind them came six more women. And at the rear of the party walked Kasreyn of the Gyre, with his son on his back.
Every courtier dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.
The Caitiffin also made a profound obeisance, though he remained standing. In a careful whisper, he breathed, “The gaddhi Rant Absolain. With him are his Favoured, the Lady Alif and the Lady Benj. Also others who have recently been, or perhaps will be, Favoured. And the gaddhi's Kemper, whom you know.”
Linden stared at the gaddhi. In spite of the opulence around him, he was plainly arrayed in a short satin tunic, as if he wished to suggest that he was unmoved by his own riches. But he had chosen a tunic which displayed his form proudly; and his movements hinted at narcissism and petulance. He accepted the adoring gazes of his women smugly. Linden saw that his hair and face had been treated with oils and paints to conceal his years behind an aspect of youthful virility.
He did not look like a sovereign.
The women with him — both the Favoured and the others — were all pretty, would have been lovely if their expressions of adoration had not been so mindless. And they were attired as odalisques. Their scant and transparent raiment was a candid appeal to desire: their perfumes, coifs, movements spoke of nothing except bedworthiness. They had found their own answer to the trepidation which beset the Chatelaine, and meant to pursue it with every allure at their command.
Smirking intimately, the gaddhi left his Favoured on the plinth with Kasreyn and ascended to his seat. There he was an effective figure. The design of the throne made him appear genuinely regal and commanding. But no artifice could conceal the self-satisfaction in his eyes. His gaze was that of a spoiled child-surquedry unjustified by any achievement, any true power.
For a long moment, he sat looking out over the obeisance of his Chatelaine, enjoying the way so many men and women humbled themselves before him. Perhaps the brightness dazzled him; he seemed unaware that Linden and her companions were still on their feet. But gradually he leaned forward to peer through the light; and vexation creased his face, betraying the lines which oil and paint had concealed.
“Kemper!” he snapped irritably. “Who are these mad folk who do not take to their knees before Rant Absolain, gaddhi of Bhrathairealm and the Great Desert?”
“O gaddhi.'” Kasreyn's reply was practiced-and faintly sardonic. 'They are the Giants and voyagers of whom we spoke just now. Though they are ignorant of the greeting which should properly be accorded the gaddhi Rant Absolain, they have come to accept the welcome which you have so graciously proffered them, and to express their profound thanks, for you have redeemed them from severe distress.'
As he delivered this speech, his eyes were fixed purposefully on the company.
Honninscrave responded promptly. Moving like a man in a charade, he dropped to one knee. “O gaddhi” he said clearly, “your Kemper speaks good sooth. We have come in glad thanks for your most hospitable and needful welcome. Forgive us that we are ill-schooled in the homage which is your due. We are a rude folk and have little acquaintance with such regality.”
At the same time, Rire Grist made a covert gesture to the rest of the company, urging them to follow Honninscrave's example.
The First growled softly in her throat; but she acknowledged the necessity of the masque by lowering herself to one knee. Her shoulders were rigid with the knowledge that the company was surrounded by at least three hundred Guards.
Linden and Seadreamer also bowed. Her breathing was cramped with anxiety. She could think of no appeal or power which would induce the Haruchai, Vain, or Findail to make obeisance. And Covenant was altogether deaf to the need for this imitation of respect.
But the gaddhi did not press the issue. Instead, he muttered an impatient phrase in the brackish language of the Bhrathair; and at once the Chatelaine rose to their feet. The company did the same, the First stiffly, Honninscrave diffidently. Linden felt a moment of relief.
The gaddhi was now looking down at Kasreyn. His expression had fallen into a pout. “Kemper, why was I called from the pleasure of my Favoured for this foolish assemblage?” He spoke the common tongue of the Harbour in an oddly defiant tone, like a rebellious adolescent.
But the Kemper's reply was unruffled. “O gaddhi, it is to your great honour that you have ever been munificent to those whom you deign to welcome. Therefore is your name grateful to all who dwell within the blessing of your demesne, and the Chatelaine are exalted by the mere thought of attendance upon you. Now it is seemly that these your new guests should come before you to utter their thanks. And it is also seemly” — his voice sharpened slightly-'that you should grant them your hearing. They have come in need, with requests in their hearts which only such, a monarch as the gaddhi of Bhrathairealm may hope to satisfy, and the answer which you accord them will carry the fame of your grace across all the wide Earth.'
At this, Rant Absolain settled back in his seat with an air of cunning. His mood was plain to Linden's senses. He was engaged in a contest of wills with his Kemper. Glancing out over the company, he smiled nastily. “It is as my servant”-he stressed that word-“the Kemper has said. I delight to give pleasure to my guests. What do you desire of me?”
The company hesitated. Honninscrave looked to the First for guidance. Linden tightened her grip on herself. Here any request might prove dangerous by playing into the hands of either the gaddhi or his Kemper.
But after a momentary pause the First said, “O gaddhi, the needs of our Giantship
