Part 101 (2/2)

He said: And what about you? At least my flaw is grand while yours is merely pathetic. You evade responsibility deny commitment out of simple cowardice. You pretend to n.o.ble despair when you are merely whimpering and self-righteous. You condemn my ignorance and arrogance when your own is equally great ... and you say you can never love and you lie lie lie.

She said: What does a heartless monster like you know about love?

He said: Let me look into your mind. Then say you don't love me.She said: Never! It's impossible.

He said: Then so is the rehabilitation of the Duat Mind.

They agreed.

”Well, Medor?” bellowed the Firvulag King.

Aides, trainers, and hangers-on fled from the dressing room of the defeated champion as they felt the scourge of Sharn's wrath. But when he was all alone with his Battlemaster the monarch doffed his robes, helped slather soothing ointment on Medor's blisters, and sprayed them with a painkilling Milieu medicament that was said to be nearly as efficacious as Tanu Skin.

”I did my best,” the woebegone general said. ”But I knew I was cooked as soon as Heymdol announced that the Foe were entering the Heretic as a ringer. No one but Pallol One-Eye was in Minnie's cla.s.s.” After a moment, he appended diplomatically, ”Except you yourself, of course, High King.”

Sharn mouthed curses through clenched teeth. ”We're not out of the woods yet, either. I lodged protests with the stewards; but there's no valid reason for keeping Minanonn or any other Peace Faction member out of the games, a.s.suming their precious consciences tell them that the Grand Tourney isn't ritual warfare but just good clean fun. The Heretic's banishment was a matter of politics. If Aiken wants to accept him on the Tanu team, there's not a d.a.m.n thing we can do to prevent it.”

”Is Minanonn partic.i.p.ating in the tug-of-war metaconcert this afternoon, then?”

”I think it's a foregone conclusion,” said the King. He helped Medor into a fresh suit of padding and new armour. ”But cheer up, old son. In the tug, it's strictly minds, not muscles, that'll cut the mustard. And there's still only thirteen thousand of them-and eighty thousand of us.”

Both Elizabeth and Marc saw the flags.h.i.+p land on a hastily roped-off area just behind the Tanu grandstand. Not long afterward the King came to the royal enclosure seeking Elizabeth. He was accompanied by Creyn, Basil Wimborne, Peopeo Moxmox Burke, and Brother Anatoly.

”I'm afraid you'll have to miss the rest of the games, la.s.s,”

Aiken told her. ”We're taking you for a little ride.”

She jumped up from her seat. ”It's-it's ready?”

The King only said, ”Come along.”

Marc lounged back with an unconcerned smile. He was wearing, with considerable style, the smart plum-and-ochre dress uniform of the King's Own Elite Guard, complete with golden torc and commander's insignia. He said, ”The time-gate is not yet operative, Elizabeth. The King is merely antic.i.p.ating.

Or possibly thinking wishfully. If the Guderian device were in working order, the entire Many-Coloured Land would know it.”

Aiken only repeated darkly, ”Come along.”

”You'll hurry back, I hope,” Marc said. ”Your heroes missed you during the Heroic Manifestations.”

”But won all the same,” Aiken snapped. ”And now we're leading in the point scoring.”

”It wouldn't do for you to miss the tug-of-war, though. Not even for ... strategic reasons. Your subjects would never stand for it. I'm really looking forward to seeing how your metaconcert technique stacks up against Sharn and Ayfa's.”

”Planning to enter the tussle on the Firvulag side again?”

Aiken inquired sweetly.

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