'My friend,' said Blade.
'In that case,' said the Queen, 'you shall have him. Or what is left of him.' She tugged a cord beside the bed. In less than a minute a house slave appeared. Pphira made no effort to cover herself or Blade. She gave brief orders and the slave left.
She kissed Blade and rolled atop him, moving up so that her little breasts were against his face. If she was ageless, the man thought, she was also insatiable. His sigh was inward. It was the name of the game. Show fatigue or boredom now and he might lose everything. He began to will himself to new passion.
Pphira was shrewd enough to know what was happening. She kissed him, examining his tongue with her own, then began to lick his face like a cat.
'Ask, Blade. What else would you have? I am not often in such a mood. You had best take while I offer.'
'I would be Captain,' said Blade. 'In command of a ship. I would fight in the games when Otto the Black arrives.'
'Granted. What other?'
Captain Blade, now very sly, a little fearful lest he overstep, thought it best to wait a while. He pulled her up and positioned her astraddle his big body and let her ride him long and far and fast into screaming contentment. When she fell exhausted he cradled her tenderly and stroked her hair.
When she breathed normally again he said, 'There are certain things I would know, questions I would ask. Not of idle probing, for I am not given to that, but if I must make a life in Sarma I must have knowledge.'
She nodded against his chest. 'Ask your questions. Then let me sleep, for I swear I have never been so pleasantly weary.'
'I may anger you, my Queen.'
'No, Blade. I promise it. Nothing you ask of me at this moment will anger me. So ask ahead.'
He took the plunge. 'What are Kreed and the Captain Equebus to each other? How do they connect? To me they have the look of plotters, there is a smell of conspiracy about them, but I cannot see to what end?'
Pphira laughed softly. 'It is very plain, Blade. They plot against me. So my spies tell me. And I have many spies.'
'And you permit this?'
'I permit it. It is not a new thing - there are more plots in Sarma than there are people. I would rather have them plot than act. And they, Kreed and Equebus, are also lovers. Or at least the priest loves - I think Equebus merely permits himself to be loved.'
So that was it! Blade, knowing that any form of sexuality was considered normal in Sarma, began to form a picture for himself. He put it to the test.
He said: 'So Kreed, an old man, loves the Captain. A man in his prime. This means much to Kreed - very little to Equebus. Kreed is the vulnerable one, then, and you have a certain hold on him. If something should happen to the Captain - '
'Kreed would be desolate,' she said softly. 'He would beat his breast, put on mourning and leap into the fiery mouth of Tor.'
Blade nodded. 'I think, my Queen, that I know at least one of your spies. He even spies against himself.'
'And against Equebus,' she added. 'Equebus whispers to Kreed and Kreed whispers to me. He must, and knows it, to save his lover. And now, Blade, I must ask you a question. Are you my man? Will you cleave to me when Otto the Black arrives? For this time Equebus plots with Otto himself - for the promise that Otto will place him on my throne. Otto himself would like this - he wants a docile puppet on the throne of Sarma instead of a trouble- maker.'
Although Pelops had briefed Blade well on Sarmaian politics he was not prepared for this. He was out of his depth and admitted it.
He frowned. 'At my first audience you reproached Kreed for speaking against Otto the Black. You spoke of being a fief and - '
She put a soft little hand on his lips. 'So I did. I pay lip service to Otto, as does every Sarmaian who wants to live, but in our hearts we are all rebels. We would be free of Otto's yoke. But this cannot be spoken aloud - for every spy I have, Otto has ten. That is why this time Equebus has gone too far. He really intends to serve Otto when I am killed. Equebus is no true rebel. He is - he - '
She put her face against Blade's chest. He felt a tear on his flesh and marveled at it. This woman weeping? And over Equebus the Cruel! There was much, far too much, that he did not understand.
Pphira did not look at him. She clung, a woman for the moment disarmed, soft and vulnerable, and said: 'Equebus is no true Sarmaian. Only half. I alone in Sarma know this.'
He held her close. 'How do you know it?' And half guessed the answer.
'Equebus is my son,' said Queen Pphira. 'The only son I have ever borne. Years ago there came a man from the land of the Moghs - a far place beyond even the Burning Land - and I fancied him and he me. It did not last long, but I have never forgotten him. He was a warrior, fierce and proud, and much learned. He did not like Sarma and returned to his own land. I wept but I was too proud to beg him to stay. A few months later I bore Equebus and, as must be done with all male children, put him away from me. He does not know his birth. No one knows but me, for those that did know I had slain on some pretext. And now, Blade, you know. Two of us. See that you keep the secret, for it can be used against me. And knowledge of his birth can be of no use to Equebus, for no man can rise above the rank of Captain and none can rule in Sarma.'
'Unless,' said Blade, 'Equebus and Otto scheme to overthrow you. Then Equebus can rule - by mandate of Otto.'
'For a time,' she agreed. 'Not for long. Otto has a son, Jamar, whom he hopes to place on the Sarmaian throne when he is old enough. When that time comes Equebus will be killed like any slave. I am a fool, Blade, and weak in this, but I would not have my only son slain thus. He must not reach the throne of Sarma.'
