Now the Kallarapi delegation was huddled in conference. There was more staff-thumping, some fist waving and hissed ranting from Shugat and a lot of anguished whispering from Nerim.
'Perhaps, gentlemen,' said Lional, poisonously polite, 'you'd like to step outside until you're quite ready to meet with us? I'm sure we have nothing better to do than twiddle our thumbs while you rehearse your presentation.'
Nerim and Shugat broke apart. They exchanged looks: Nerim's pleading, Shugat's grim. After a fraught pause Nerim wilted and the tatty old holy man advanced towards the throne. His eyes still blazed but the burning crystal in his forehead was quiescent again.
'You king of New Ottosland!' Shugat's voice was gravelly, his Kallarapi accent pronounced; he made no attempt to shorten vowels or soften consonants.'You mock us with your blasphemy!'
'Mock you, sir?' said Lional, vastly innocent. 'I think not. Incidentally, do feel free to make your obeisances at your earliest convenience.'
Gerald stopped breathing. What was Lional doing? Putting on a good face was one thing, playing with fire another. Surely even he could feel the power pouring out of the Kallarapi holy man? Did he think a trinket crown would save him? If so he was sadly mistaken.
Before Shugat could incinerate everyone within a mile of the audience chamber, Prince Nerim leapt forward and clutched at his arm. There were more exchanged looks: this time Nerim's mute appeal was so desperate his eyes almost popped out of his head. Another fraught pause, then Shugat nodded grudgingly and stepped back. Gerald started breathing again.
Nerim cleared his throat and bowed. Not deeply, but sufficiently enough that Lional's faint smile remained undiminished. 'O King,' he said, his voice quavering slightly, 'mine brother, His Glorious Magnificence Sultan Zazoor, may he live forever, of the Holy, Great and Immortal Empire of Kallarap, bids me greet you in his name.' Unlike Shugat, his accent was barely discernable. Boarding school polish, Gerald decided. Like his brother.
Lional inspected his manicured fingernails. 'That's nice.'
The prince's eyes flashed. 'Mine brother the sultan, may he live forever, also commends to you his holy man Shugat.'
With obvious and severe reluctance Shugat offered Lional a parsimonious bow. Lional inclined his head in return, teeth glittering in a smile. 'Welcome to my court, gentlemen. And allow me to present to you Professor Gerald Dunwoody. My royal wizard.'
Shugat thudded his staff again: the chandeliers overhead tinkled to the faint echo of thunder, rolling on some distant horizon.
'Not wizard! Blasphemer!' he retorted. 'As are you, little king! It is not for outsiders to know the faces of our gods: the Dragon, the Lion, the Bird!'
Gerald felt his heart stutter. That's who the Kallarapi worshipped? Animal spirits? Spirits like Reg and Tavistock, who were here now because of him? Oh no. Is this a coincidence or does the king know something? On his shoulder, Reg was moaning.
Lional held up his hand and admired one opulent diamond ring. 'I know more than their faces, Shugat. I know their names.'
Nerim gasped. For long moments there was silence as Shugat's seamed features reflected some bitter inner battle. 'No outsider knows names of our secret, sacred gods.'
Lional sighed. 'Grimthak, Vorsluk and Lalchak,' he said, counting on his fingers.'Sound familiar?'
Not a coincidence. This is more than knowing, this is a plan. And I'm a part of it… Oh no. He really should have listened to Reg.
Shugat staggered as though he'd received a mortal wound. 'Not possible! Not possiblel' he hissed.
'And even more than their names, Shugat,' continued Lional, inexorable, 'I know them. And I welcome them. With open arms and a loving heart do I welcome the gods of Kallarap to New Ottosland.'
With a slash of his staff Shugat indicated Tavistock and Reg.'These? You say these mimicking beasts are our gods?' Letting out a harsh cry like the lamenting of crows he plucked free the crystal from his forehead, leaving a bloodless crater in his flesh, and held it aloft. Incandescent light flooded into every cranny and corner. ' Woe to the blasphemer, for he shall burn in the fires of the Dragon. The Bird shall tear out his wicked tongue and the Lion devour his heart. So says Shugat, Holy Man of Kallarapi'
With a shriek Prince Nerim fell to his knees, arms cradling his head. He began sobbing.
Lional laughed. Ignoring the stricken prince, ignoring Shugat and the light from his terrible crystal, he leaned over the side of his throne and said conversationally, 'Did you know, Professor, there are so many holy men in Kallarap I'm sure you can't cross a single sand dune without falling over one.'
Gerald unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Melissande was going to explode when she heard about this.'Really, Your Majesty?' he croaked.
'Really. But the sultan's holy man is accounted something special. According to Kallarapi folklore, the sultan's holy man speaks to their gods on a daily basis. Imagine!'
And when the gods spoke back after today's little debacle three guesses what they were going to say… 'That sounds very… religious, Your Majesty.'
'It certainly does,' agreed Lional.'Of course now that I come to think of it, as far as I'm aware nobody has actually witnessed this miraculous event. As far as I'm aware, the sultan's holy man just totters out of his little temple or cave or whatever claiming to have received a list of instructions from the gods and, for some reason I don't altogether understand, my old school chum Zazoor believes him.' He shrugged. 'Mind you, Zazoor always was the gullible sort.'
The incandescent light faded, leaving Shugat's crystal dull and unreflecting. Still holding it the holy man rammed his staff into the carpet yet again. 'More blasphemy!' he shouted over the echoing thunder.
Lional frowned. 'Shugat, old chap, I feel compelled to point out you're getting tedious.'
With a nervous glance at Shugat, Prince Nerim swallowed his sobs and clambered to his feet. 'Hasty words, O gracious king. Holy Shugat was merely… taken aback.'
Shugat glared and thumped his staff; the chandelier overhead danced and tinkled as the rolling thunder died away. 'Do not speak for me, Blood of the Sultan! These beasts are blasphemy and so is doubting my speech with the gods! Now you tell me, King, how our sacred secret ways are open to you.'
'Ah,' said Lional. 'You suspect some foul magic, perhaps? Sorry, but no. As it happens a little sultan told me.' Shugat's head snapped back.'Zazoor?'
'While we were at school. We were both a little drunk, you see, and had a bet regarding… well. Never mind. The point is, I won. Oh dear,' he added, eyes alight with malicious amusement at the identical looks on Shugat and Nerim s faces. 'Was he not supposed to say anything? Perhaps you should ask the gods to smite him, you know, just a little bit, the next time you're chatting.'
Nerim said hoarsely, 'Your Majesty, surely these matters are for the holy men of our nations to discuss at another time and place. The sultan, may he live forever, did not send us here to talk of gods, but of — of — ' He swallowed convulsively. '- debts unpaid.'
'Ah… yes…' said Lional. 'Well, I think you'll find the two matters are more closely connected than you thought.'
Nerim threw Shugat a desperate look. Leathery face creased with displeasure, Shugat nodded. 'We will hear your words on this. King. And then — ' He smiled ominously. 'You will hear ours.'
'By all means,' said Lional.'If there's time. Now. As I was saying, Gerald,' he continued, shifting a little on his throne so that one shoulder was presented to the Kallarapi delegation, 'the sultan's holy man claims to be the sole recipient of his gods' wisdom. And certainly I can see why he would. Any man with the exclusive ear of the gods is in a remarkable position of power, as I'm sure you'd agree.'
Gerald couldn't trust himself to speak. If he spoke he'd unleash a torrent of abuse that would get him thrown into a dungeon or worse. If he spoke he'd likely do even more damage to New Ottosland-Kallarap relations than the king was managing all by himself.
/ have to see this through, I have to wait till we're alone. Then I'll tell Lional what I think of him. Then I'll let him know that I quit. And if Melissande has the brains of an ant she'll quit too and come back to Ottosland with me.
'Mmm,' he said, and somehow managed to hide his rage.
'Yes, indeed,' Lional continued, as though the inarticulate comment was a ringing endorsement. 'A man with
