The place was a palace right enough, with quantities of marble and statuary, a fine balcony, tall windows, and with intricate mosaic pavements cool beneath the feet. I dumped my mergem down as a tall, elegant middle-aged man stepped toward us. He bore the stamp of authority; but he bore it as though he understood the responsibilities as well as the perquisites of power. His robes were of white, dazzlingly clean, trimmed with red, and at his side he bore a scabbarded, golden-hilted sword of the solaik variety.[7]He looked to be a man I could talk to.
He said, “What do you here? We have naught left-”
I said, “I have brought food for the lady Miam. I would like to see her. I am Dak. There is not much time.”
He bristled; but he was intrigued. At his side a shadow moved and a man stepped out. He was a dwarf. He had a finely shaped head; his body was stunted but strong. He held a crossbow and the quarrel centered on my heart. His clothes were an incongruous mixture of reds and golds and mail. I looked at him. I did not smile. He was deadly.
“No one comes here for the lady Miam without a ready explanation.”
“Send for her and you will have your explanation.”
He hesitated and the dwarf cocked an eye up at him.
“You say you have food for her? You are from the ships in the outer harbor?”
“Yes and yes. Now — whoever you are — send for the lady Miam, or I shall have to penetrate the women’s quarters myself.”
A nasty scene was spared by the entrance of the lady herself.
I have seen many beautiful women. I have seen many women lovely in the sight of men. There have never been any women to match in beauty my Delia — and, at this time, my dear dead Velia — yet this Miam bore herself with beauty and with demureness, her color high, her long braided brown hair glowing in the lights through the tall windows. Her white dress moved over her bosom with an agitation I did not connect with my arrival. The young devil! Mind you, I was wrong. .
“I am here, Uncle — if this fierce warrior is Dak-”
“He is, niece.”
“Then all is well. I have had news — such strange news — that Zeg wishes to be remembered to me. That is all.”
I gaped. Zeg! Zeg was the Krozair name my son Segnik had taken, and he would fight anyone who added the “nik” to his name. I looked at Miam and I burst out — I, cunning, canny, cynical old Dray Prescot — I burst out like any callow youth, “But I thought it was Vax-”
She laughed. The tinkling, refreshing, superbly rational sound drove all the cobwebs away. Naught of evil could live in the sound of that laugh.
“Vax brings me news of his brother and assures himself I am safe. He does not love me.”
“In that, my lady Miam,” said Vax’s voice as he stepped into the room, “you wound me sore. You do me an injustice.”
“Oh, yes, Vax, I know! But you know what I mean.”
“I do.” He looked at me and had the grace to look suddenly confused and to look away sharply. I said, “If you do anything stupid like this again, I’ll tan your backside myself.”
He bridled. His hand whipped to his sword — to that superb Krozair brand I had given him. His lips pouted into a sullen droop, and his head snapped erect, his eyes glaring.
“Do not think I would not, Vax, for all you are a great warrior now. Anyway, you did not think to bring any food for your friends.”
“Come, come,” said this Miam’s uncle, spreading his arms. “It seems we are all friends here. Let us have no more unpleasantness.” He turned to me. “Lahal, Dak. I am Janri Zunderhan, Roz of Thoth Zeresh. We have no wine fit to drink to offer; but we have a little tea left.”
“Tea is better than wine any day. I will have supplies brought up from my ships. I thank you for your hospitality. Lahal, Roz Janri.”
He looked quite pleased, no doubt expecting some uncouth paktunlike remark. We all went into an inner room and soon the confusion was sorted out. This lady Miam was the great-granddaughter of the dead king Zinna. She hadn’t even been a gleam in her father’s eye when last I’d been in the Eye of the World. She and Zeg, I gathered, had more or less decided to set up house together. He was off corsairing on the inner sea and she was shut up here under siege. I had an idea Zeg didn’t know that. And here was I, sitting with one son and talking about another son, and denied all the heartburning words I longed to speak!
I turned the conversation the way I wanted it to go and learned that Nath Zavarin was regarded not as a fat fool, or even a fat hulu, but as a man desirous of serving his city who was being forced into bad company and bad ways. He was regarded as being clever to have avoided being chopped by Starkey the Wersting. They had a finicky disability over calling Starkey King Zenno in this household. Miam could prove an embarrassment to the new king and she was being kept very quiet indeed. All the fit men were off fighting on the walls; but Roz Janri indicated that all here would fight to the death for the lady Miam and himself. Her relations were all dead, as were his. They had found good comradeship in each other’s company.
The dwarf, Roko, bustled about bossing the serving wenches, waddling along on his big flat feet, a cheery, cheeky little man, a man to be reckoned with. I thought the back of his neck must ache with the continual looking up he must do. Still, I supposed he was used to it. It is not necessary for me to go into every tiny detail of my movements over the rest of that day, or of the plans I formulated almost bur by bur. Everything fell into place with an ease I would have regarded with great suspicion had the circumstances been other than they were. I wondered — true — if the veiled hand of Zena Iztar could be found in this. She could well be manipulating events. Zair knew, she, like the Star Lords, had power enough.
The upshot was that, as the Suns of Scorpio sank in floods of fire and the first stars began to shine out, my sea-leems quit the ships in silence, their weapons muffled. The very first star of Kregen was a huge blue fat beauty, shining with a calm refulgence, extraordinarily bright at this time of the approach of orbits. This is the planet Kregans call Soothe. Soothe is one of the more famous Goddesses of Love, and her voluptuous representation is found all over Kregen, in apim or numin, sylvie or Fristle form, in any of the shapes of females most admired by lecherous men. Soothe and Venus — if this was mere coincidence, I did not know.
So, under the fat blue gleam of Soothe, and with the first of the hurtling moons skating low over the city, we rowed ashore. Everything went as Roz Janri and Nath Zavarin had promised. The paktuns, once they had overcome their initial astonishment, fought well. But there could be no time for finesse. They must be subjugated as fast as possible. In the event as we roared into the Palace of Fragrant Incense — and trust the Zandikarese to call a palace that was a fortress by a pretty name like that! — and drove the paktuns yelling before us, we overcame their last resistance and still over a hundred yet lived.
Starkey the Wersting, who called himself King Zenno, was bundled out of bed and the sylvie with him fled, shrieking in her nakedness. We showed him a bloodstained blade and he was very agreeable to do our bidding. I say
I said to King Zenno, “You may stay as Starkey the Wersting and fight for us for hire. You may take a boat and seek to escape with such of your men as will go with you. You may not communicate with Prince Glycas.” He glared at me — this sharp-faced, vicious rast of a fellow — hardly crediting what had hit him. “Or, of course,” I said, offhandedly, “if you wish you can be killed, here and now.”
“I would dislike that,” said Roz Janri. “Yet it might be the most sensible course.”
“I am not a man of blood,” I said. I saw Vax and the little smile on his face, and through the sudden chill that smote me, I struggled on. Truth to tell, that knowing little smile on my son’s face made up my mind for me. “You will sail in a boat. Tonight,” I had to add, out of shame or out of a desire to convince Vax I did not know. “I am not a man of blood; but I am not averse to spilling kleesh blood. You have an abundance of that, Starkey.”
“May Zagri rot your eyes and liver!” this King Zenno that was burst out, raving. He spit, choking, demented. “May Zagri cave in your chest and soften your sinews, and-” He would have gone on, for Zagri is a most powerful demon and well-called on in times of stress and cursing. Vax stepped up and rapped the fellow on the nose enough
