Part 12 (2/2)

'Majesty, Majesty,' cried Dilrap, his alarm intensifying as he scrabbled on all fours to relieve his monarch's consort of this servant's work.

Sylvriss held out a hand to help him, but he affected not to see it and struggled to his feet unaided, only narrowly avoiding pulling down a velvet curtain and dislodging a carved head from a pedestal.

'Dilrap,' said Sylvriss sympathetically.

'Majesty,' Dilrap repeated, looking around at the debris and gesticulating vaguely. Sylvriss tossed back the hood of her robe and smiled gently at him. Dilrap was destroyed. He was so fond of his Queen. He grieved constantly for her suffering, and admired beyond words her steadfast courage. She was one of the few who called him by his name. Most used his t.i.tle and even made that sound like an insult. She made him feel calm and at ease. And she was so beautiful. So beautiful. She was fond of him too. He reminded her of a fat old pony she had had as a child, but she sensed other qualities in the man, and she too quietly grieved for his plight.

'I'm sorry I startled you, Dilrap,' she said. 'But I wanted to speak to you about something.' She gestured to a pa.s.sing servant and gave orders for the papers to be collected and taken to Dilrap's office then, taking his elbow, she said, 'Come with me.' There was a brief flurry of hitchings and adjustments before Dilrap fell in with the sauntering pace of his Queen. She walked for some time without speaking.

Dilrap cast surrept.i.tious sideways glances at her. It seemed to him that she was changed in some way.

Her face was different less strained younger, flushed, even. Then, as if on a whim, she turned off the corridor and, walking through an elaborate archway, came into the Crystal Hall.

Two Mathidrin standing guard at the archway clicked their heels as she pa.s.sed, and she acknowledged their salute with a nod and a gracious smile. At every opportunity, in every little way, she was determined to ease herself into the affections and respect of all Dan-Tor's minions, however loutish. It would have been easier for her by far to be cold and distant, but that would have been easier for them too. No, she thought, some affection for me amongst his men can do nothing but hinder him and might prove helpful one day. I'll show you how to train horses, you long streak of evil.

The Crystal Hall was so called because of its strange translucent walls and ceilings. They s.h.i.+fted and s.h.i.+mmered constantly with every imaginable colour. Their smooth surfaces were broken only by thin veins of a golden inlay, curling and sweeping into elaborate leaf-like patterns. Somewhere behind each surface could be seen figures and landscapes that seemed to flicker in and out of existence with the slightest movement of the head; sometimes near, sometimes distant.

It was a beautiful place and it exuded tranquillity, but no one knew how or when it had been built, or who had built it. In fact no one now knew even the name of this strange craft of inner carving.

Dan-Tor never visited it.

Sylvriss led Dilrap over to a broad seat underneath the pattern of a huge tree etched out in fine golden threads. These were flush with the surface of the wall, but the inner work made the trunk seem solid and whole, and the branches s.h.i.+mmered as though sunlight were falling on them through waving leaves. A close examination would reveal countless tiny, multi-coloured insects moving among the crevices of the bark. The leaves, too, flickered and shone as if a breeze were blowing through them, and as different seasons shone their different lights into the hall so the leaves seemed to change and fall.

Sylvriss sat down and gestured Dilrap to do likewise. Dilrap did as he was bidden, and folding his hands in his lap awaited his Queen's pleasure.

He had neither the stature not the dignity of his late father, but he had a substantial portion of his considerable intellect and a memory that was superior by far. It was his saving grace as the King's Secretary and prevented life becoming totally intolerable for him. However, this, his real worth, was unknown to most, not least himself, being constantly overshadowed by his circ.u.mstances and his excitable and nervous disposition.

In the Queen's company, however, given a little time, he tended to relax and be more at ease, and his truer self would emerge. Perceptively, Sylvriss judged that despite being utterly fearful of Dan-Tor, his loyalty to the King was unquestionable and his devotion to her total.

He was worth more than her humorous affection, she knew. The very contempt in which many of the Court held him meant that secrets which were jealously guarded from other ears were discussed almostopenly in his presence. Often, no more heed was taken of him than of one of the Palace hounds. But, Sylvriss noted,he never gossiped. Never sought to protect himself by winning the spurious esteem of others with some display of his knowledge of the intimate details of Palace life. He absorbed all his embarra.s.sment and discomfiture and, presumably, resentment in some inner place. His sole defence was his defencelessness.

The tree s.h.i.+mmered as the sun emerged from behind a cloud and its light burst into the Hall.

'Dilrap,' she began. 'I need a friend. An ally.'

'Majesty, I'm your most devo . . .'

She waved him to silence. 'No, Dilrap. I need no Court pleasantries from you. I know what you are.'

She stared at him for a moment, then plunged. 'You're a man trapped by circ.u.mstances in a public office for which he considers himself totally unsuitable. Circ.u.mstances made all the more bitter by the fact that his father ranked as one of the finest Secretaries any King has ever known.'

Dilrap bowed his head. Sylvriss pressed forward. 'But your father didn't have a sick and wayward King to deal with, nor . . .' She paused significantly, watching him carefully. 'Nor, Dilrap, did he have to deal with the likes of Lord Dan-Tor.' She offered no embellishment of her description of Dan-Tor. It was not necessary.

Dilrap looked up and caught her gaze. Strange, came a slow, almost reluctant, thought from deep inside him. Strange that I'd never seen that that simple, obvious fact. Sylvriss held his gaze and nodded in confirmation of what she had said.

'Your father towers in your life as once he towered in this Palace,' she said. Then with great deliberation, 'But no man could have contended with the Lord Dan-Tor. No man.'

Dilrap lowered his eyes again. 'Majesty, I don't understand what you're saying. What is it you want of me?'

'I want a friend, Dilrap. An ally.'

Dilrap made no reply.

Sylvriss took a deep breath. She must continue now. 'Dilrap, you underestimate yourself totally. You always have. For anyone who cares to look, there are qualities in you which make you at least as fine a Secretary as your father. The reason your office is burdensome to you, and why you're the b.u.t.t of so many in the Court, is that Dan-Tor wishes it so. He wants no one around him or the King who might be intelligent enough to interfere with his plans.'

Dilrap looked alarmed and fluttered his hands nervously, like b.u.t.terflies trying to fly to safety in the glittering tree above them. 'Majesty . . . I don't know . . .'

'Dilrap.I know. I know you're loyal to your office and the King. And to the people of Fyorlund. I know it grieves you constantly that you seem to be eternally impotent to alter the terrible course we're set on.'

She seized the dithering hands. Dilrap started. 'Look at me,' she said urgently. 'I tell you again. You must understand. Even your father couldn't have stood against the wiles of Dan-Tor. As sure as fate he'd have been destroyed in the attempt. You must believe that. Somewhere inside you, you know it's true.' She released the hands and they floated down into his lap again.

'Majesty,' he whispered, 'maybe what you say is true. I know that you above all would play no cruel tricks on me. But what do you want of me?'

Sylvriss placed all on one cast and told him briefly and bluntly. 'The King has no mysterious illness. It was Dan-Tor's treatment that precipitated his condition and it's been Dan-Tor's treatment that has maintained it.' Dilrap's eyes widened in terror, but Sylvriss continued. 'See how well he's been recently, now that it's in Dan-Tor's interests not to have him wandering about demented, further complicating the actions he's accidentally set in motion.'

'Majesty,' ventured Dilrap, 'the King's illness has always been subject to these brief flashes of normality. He may lapse again at any moment.'

'I know,' said Sylvriss. Then, with some bitterness, 'There's a quality in Dan-Tor's potions that makes the body cry out for them desperately, even though they injure it. I've learned that in the past and suffered for it.'

Dilrap raised his hand as if to comfort the pain that pa.s.sed over the beautiful face.

'But knowledge is a s.h.i.+eld, Dilrap,' Sylvriss continued. 'Dan-Tor quieted the King and then left his tending to me while he occupied himself with political affairs.' Her voice fell. 'Very slowly I've been reducing the strength of the potions I'm supposed to give him.' She raised a finger in emphasis. 'Very slowly he's returning to health.'

Dilrap looked round fearfully. 'Majesty, why do you tell me this? I think the Lord Dan-Tor is capable of anything anything I've seen so many . . .' He stopped. 'I shudder to think what his real aims are. But what canI do?'

Sylvriss sat back and nodded slowly. 'You've just done it, Honoured Secretary. You've spoken the truth. You've seen so many things, you said. So many things that shouldn't be. And even the seemingly unimportant things take their toll lapses in procedure, appointments for personal favours rather than ability, petty deceits and illegalities to avoid the scrutiny of the Geadrol, trivial things. Trivial things that have acc.u.mulated over the years to s.h.i.+ft power gradually from where it lay, into Dan-Tor's hands.

Reluctant but efficient hands, labouring only in the interests of their monarch.'

Then, surprised at her own realization,'You've spoken out about it. You've spoken out and been crushed. Long ago. Crushed with the same meticulous attention to detail that he applies to everything. All the ways a man can be crushed without actually breaking his bones. You fought your battle alone, and you thought it lost.'

The last vestiges of her image of her old pony faded in a tearful mist and this timeshe felthis pain. Dilrap sat motionless, a dark expression on his face as countless scores of humiliations and rebuffs marched in mocking triumph before him.

'What can I do?' he said again, simply.

'You must do as I must,' said Sylvriss. 'You must fight again. But with a new resolve, no matter what the odds, if the things you honour Kings.h.i.+p, the Law, the people, your father's memory are to survive. You and I have nowhere left to hide. No one will act against Dan-Tor if we don't. He'll twist the rest of the Lords around his finger, and destroy them one at a time. Then he'll destroy the King andeverything else of the old way. Including us.'

'Majesty, I'm not a warrior,' Dilrap said faintly.

Sylvriss smiled. 'You're no swordsman, Dilrap, but you're more of a warrior than you know.'

Dilrap tried for the last time to refuse the mantle that was being pressed on him. 'Majesty, if the King is improving in health, he'll surely be able to take control again. He was a powerful and able man.'

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