will leave when we have done what they desire us to do, in the fashion they design for it to be done.' He paused, his expression darkening. 'Do not presume to question the gods, Nerim. That way lies madness and pain.'
The look on Shugat's face was the one he wore just before administering a sharp clout to an offender's ear. Nerim bowed, hurriedly. 'As always you are right, Shugat. Forgive me.'
'I forgive you,' said Shugat, and with a weary sigh lowered himself into the bedroom's chair.
'Are you… well, Shugat?' he asked hesitantly. Asking him personal questions was always a risky undertaking; Shugat resisted all attempts to engage in normal conversation. Only with the sultan, may he live forever, was he seen to laugh and even then not often. But the strain of this mission was beginning to show: there were dark circles beneath the holy man's eyes, and the healthy colour in his cheeks had faded.
Shugat waved a dismissive hand. 'I am well,' he said curtly. Then he sighed. 'But also… troubled.'
Eagerly he sat on the bed. 'By what, Shugat? Tell me. I am the brother of the sultan, may he live forever, sent with you to speak the words of the gods' chosen ruler of Kallarap. Gladly will I lend you my wisdom. Speak to me as you would my brother, your friend, and I will listen with his ears.'
Shugat's eyes widened. He was silent for a moment, lips twitching. Then he nodded. 'Very well, Nerim. There is a man of great power in this kingdom. His presence here… concerns me.' 'Concerns you? How can that be?'
'Many things concern me, Nerim,' Shugat said sharply. 'The heat of the sun, the pallor of the moon, the fall of a sparrow from the sky. But this man… he is a wildness. An unpredictability. He is chaos given form. I sense that our fates flow together like the mingling of two springs becoming one beneath the sand… but how or why this should be, I cannot tell. And so I am concerned.'
He frowned. 'But… you are Shugat, the wise and holy. Surely no man of flesh and blood can concern you. As well to say the gods themselves fear him!'
Shugat stood, his eyes flashing. 'Bite your tongue, Nerim, you witless boy! I said nothing of fear, nor of the gods! And only a fool pays no heed to a man of power! Are you a fool? Did your brother the sultan, may he live forever, send a fool with me to talk of broken oaths and forsaken honour with the King of New Ottosland?' His left hand lifted and his gods' eye, the crystal embedded in his forehead, pulsed with the fire of a thousand suns.
Horrified, Nerim fell to his knees, arms rising to shield his face. 'No, no, Shugat! I spoke in ignorance but I am no fool! Do not punish me. Please, please, do not punish meV
An age passed before Shugat spoke again. 'Of course I will not punish you, Nerim,' he said at last, sounding weary beyond bearing.
'Thank you, thank you!' he cried.Then he gasped as Shugat raised him to his feet and lightly shook him. Despite his fear he opened his eyes. The fierce crystal was dormant again, and Shugat's expression was a blend of impatient kindness and urgency.
'But you must not wake my ire in such a fashion!' the holy man warned him. 'The gods sleep very close to the surface of my dreams in this place, boy. And the power I feel here scrapes my nerves as a sandstorm at noon scours the sky'
Trembling, Nerim let his legs fold him back to the bed. 'Why did you not speak of this man and his power when first we arrived?'
'When first we arrived he was not here,' said Shugat. He too resumed his seat, and his thin brown fingers wrapped themselves about the arm of the chair. 'But he is here now. His power is newly woken… and it is mighty… and what his presence means to us I do not know. But it does mean something, Nerim. Of that I have no doubt.'
He didn't understand, but he nodded anyway. It seemed safest. 'What do the gods say of this man? What do they say we must do?'
Shugat frowned, and shook his head. 'They say nothing, Nerim. Which means they are not yet ready to speak. We must be patient. When it is time for the gods' purpose to be revealed it will be revealed, and not a moment before.' 'Yes, Shugat,' he said obediently.'Shugat — '
But he was interrupted by a forceful knock upon their guest quarters' outer doors. Shugat went to answer it. He heard the holy man say, in the horrible New Ottosland tongue, 'Ah, Your Highness. How may I assist you?'
He pulled a face. What did the ugly immodest woman want now? Not more sightseeing, surely. He was sick to death of monstrous New Ottosland architecture. He joined Shugat in the foyer, wishing he could avert his eyes from the king's lowly sister who dared appear before them with her face uncovered and in clothing that outlined her — her legs. And they weren't even attractive legs.
The king's lowly sister nodded at him. 'Thank you for seeing me, Prince Nerim. I just stopped by to let you know His Majesty would be pleased to grant you an audience tomorrow afternoon at three, if that should prove convenient to yourself and Holy Shugat.'
He nodded. 'Certainly Your Highness.' The honorific nearly stuck to his tongue but Zazoor had impressed upon him the need to observe all niceties of good behaviour. And Shugat had promised him a clout on the ear it he forgot.'It is a meeting which we have long looked for.' 'Yes,' said the woman. 'Well — '
'His Majesty is a busy man with the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders,' said Shugat smoothly. 'He must be miserly with his favours.'
The king's lowly sister nodded. Nerim winced; truly, he'd seen prettier camels… 'Your graciousness is appreciated, Holy Shugat,' she said. 'I'm sure now that an amicable outcome will be achieved.'
Shugat shrugged. 'The gods determine all outcomes.'
'Ah. Yes,' she said. 'Of course. Well, that's all I wanted. Unless you particularly desired another carriage ride into the city?' 'No,' said Shugat.'No more carriages.' The king's lowly sister nodded again, and left.
Nerim resisted the urge to pull a face at the closed door.'An audience at last!' he said, returning gratefully to their own civilised tongue. 'What do you think this means, Shugat?'
Shugat's leathery features creased in a frown. 'The gods know. I shall withdraw and meditate, that they might tell me what they require.'
'And me, Shugat?' he said eagerly. He was the sultan's brother, after all, may Zazoor live forever. He was instrumental in this very important mission. 'What should I do?' Shugat sighed.'Go back to sleep, Nerim.'
Instead of returning to her office and tackling more prime ministerial problems, Melissande decided she needed a moment's respite from care. She headed for Rupert's butterfly house. A few precious moments discussing nothing more important than insects was exactly what she needed right now.
The gods decide all outcomes? Well plwoey on the gods! If that was the case then it was about time the gods pulled out their collective finger and got this ridiculous tariff situation sorted immediately.
'Because I've had enough, all right?' she demanded as she trounced down the staircase leading to the palace's south saloon vestibule. 'Are you listening? Did you hear me? I-have-had-enoMg/z!'
A startled footman tripped over his mop and bucket. 'Your Highness?'
She helped him to his feet. 'Sorry, Norbert. I wasn't talking to you.'
Mystified, Norbert dabbed soap suds off his elbow.'Very well, Your Highness.'
'Carry on, then,' she said grandly, and pointed to a grimy patch beside the nearest wilting pot plant. 'You missed a bit.'
Rupert was in the meticulously tended garden attached to his butterfly house, snipping the heads off dead flowers. When he saw her his face lit up. 'Melly!'
She joined him, kissed his grubby cheek then surveyed the flowerbeds. 'Hey, Rupes. What are you doing?'
'Oh, you know, chores. A butterfly keepers work is never done,' he said, his smile fading a little. 'It's so sad. All the Floribunda Magnificos have died off, you see? So I have to prune them. My poor butterflies won't know what to do with themselves. The Magnificos are their favourite supper — almost thirty percent sugar in the nectar, with chambers nearly twice as big as any other flower.'
She considered the headless bushes. 'And that's good, is it?'
'Oh, Melly, that's marvellous', he said earnestly, waving his pruning shears for emphasis. She took a prudent step back. 'Bigger chambers mean their little proboscises don't have to work so hard!'
She had no idea what he was talking about. 'How wonderful. I'm so pleased for them.'
'Yes,' he sighed. 'They do love their Magnificos. Oh well. They'll just have to make do with the sweet sillies and cuttings from the honeypot tree.'
