Part 3 (2/2)

To Pazel that sounded like a very long time. He wondered if the others felt the same vague terror as he did. Without Ramachni's wisdom they were fumbling, blind - lost in the darkness already.

'You took one risk this morning, didn't you?' said Fiffengurt. 'You trusted me.'

Hercol laughed. 'That was not difficult. Pazel, Neeps and Thasha all vouched for you. Agreement among them is too rare a thing to ignore.'

'Yet I'm fond of Arqual myself,' said Fiffengurt. 'Not the Empire, mind you: I mean the old notions we sang about in nursery-days - Arqual, Arqual, just and true, land of hope forever new - Arqual, Arqual, just and true, land of hope forever new - before all this l.u.s.t for territory and hugeness. They stole that Arqual out from under our noses a long time ago, in my granddad's day, maybe. If it ever existed, that is. By the Blessed Tree, I always thought it before all this l.u.s.t for territory and hugeness. They stole that Arqual out from under our noses a long time ago, in my granddad's day, maybe. If it ever existed, that is. By the Blessed Tree, I always thought it once once had. But after what I've seen aboard had. But after what I've seen aboard Chathrand Chathrand I don't know what to think.' I don't know what to think.'

Hercol gave a rueful smile. 'It existed,' he said. 'But not in your grandfather's time. Perhaps his his grandfather saw its twilight, as a young man. Such talk must wait, however. We must concentrate on Thasha if we are to save her.' grandfather saw its twilight, as a young man. Such talk must wait, however. We must concentrate on Thasha if we are to save her.'

'I just wish we could tell the admiral,' said Pazel, looking sombrely through the gate.

'Not a chance,' said Fiffengurt. 'Thasha said it herself: old Isiq would never have agreed.'

'Master Hercol,' said a voice behind them.

The friends fell quickly silent. A young man with a bright smile and handsome, chisel-jawed features was standing a few paces away, hands folded. He was dressed smartly, dark vest over white s.h.i.+rt, billowed sleeves held snug at the wrists with cufflinks of polished bra.s.s: the uniform of a page or errand-runner for the well-to-do. He gave them a slight, ironic bow.

'What do you want, lad?' said Hercol. 'I don't know you.'

'Not know me?' said the youth, his voice amused. 'Does the leaf forget the tree that made it, or the tree the wooded mountain?'

Hercol froze at the words. Then he slowly turned to face the young man. The youth gave him a barely perceptible nod.

'Keep an eye out for Thasha,' said Hercol to the others. Then he took the young man by the elbow and moved swiftly away through the crowd. Pazel watched them cross a pebble-strewn path, around a trellis of scarlet flowers, and disappear towards a far corner of the garden.

To his surprise, Pazel felt a sudden, irrepressible desire to know what they were up to. Leaving Neeps protesting by the gate, he darted after Hercol and the youth. The rose bushes were tall and thick, and the guests were many, and it was several minutes before he spotted the pair - through the sun-dappled spray of the fountain, as it chanced.

Hercol was standing beside a pair of tall, fair women, wearing sky-blue gowns and circlets of silver in their hair. They were twin d.u.c.h.esses from Hercol's country; he had pointed them out to the tarboys just an hour before. The three were chatting quietly, sipping cups of hyacinth nectar. The Simjan youth was nowhere to be seen.

Pazel felt rather a fool - Hercol was making pleasantries, like everyone else. But when the sisters took their leave Hercol did not start back to the gate. Instead he turned very casually to face the juniper bushes. Pazel followed his gaze. And to his great surprise, he saw a face.

The junipers, he realised now, were arranged to hide a section of the iron fence around the gardens. The gaps were few and narrow. But framed in the largest, just beyond the fence, were the head and shoulders of an old but striking woman. She was tall and stern, grey eyes under a grey mane of hair, a face not so much wrinkled as creased with long thought. A royal face, Pazel thought, for he had been looking at royalty all morning; and yet there was something about this face that was like no other he had ever seen.

Her eyes met the Tholja.s.san's. Hercol kept very still, but it was like the stillness of a hunting hound tensed to spring. Then the woman drew a hood over her face and turned away. Pazel saw a pair of large, hard-faced men beside her, gripping her arms in the manner of body-guards. An instant later she was gone.

'What in the Pits?' muttered Pazel.

A hand touched his elbow. It was Neeps, looking rather fl.u.s.tered. 'Where've you been?' he demanded. 'Thasha will be here any minute, and Pacu's throwing a first-cla.s.s fit.'

'You won't believe what I just saw.'

'Try me,' said Neeps.

Before Pazel could say more, a voice cried shrilly: 'Here she comes now! Boys! Boys!'

Neeps sighed. 'Come on, before she calls out the marines.'

They hurried back to the gate. The fact that they were Thasha's best friends did not matter a fig to Pacu Lapadolma. To her they were just tarboys, born to serve their betters, and nothing short of marrying royalty themselves could change that.

She snapped her fingers at them. 'Get in position! You' - she pointed at Pazel - 'must straighten your coat, and your hat, and keep your hair out of sight if possible. And there is a rose petal stuck to your shoe.'

Pazel raked uselessly at his hair. They had already thought of a dozen choice insults for the general's daughter. Neeps for his part was only awaiting the end of the crisis to deliver them.

'Do you have the Blessing-Band?'

Pazel tapped his vest pocket, where the silk ribbon lay coiled. 'Nothing's happened to it since the last time you asked.'

The young woman might have snapped a retort had Thasha not appeared just then at the gate.

'Darling!' said Pacu, seizing her arm.

Thasha firmly detached the hand. 'The last person who called me 'darling' was poisoning my father, Pacu.'

'What a dreadful comparison, you heartless thing! Syrarys never meant the word, and I love you like a sister. But you're simply gorgeous, Thasha Isiq! Yes, a sister, that's the exact sensation in my heart!'

'You're an only child.'

Pacu rescued an orchid that was sliding free of Thasha's love-knot. She gave an inquisitive sniff, and her eyes widened. 'Have you put on some new perfume? Or is it your father's cologne?'

'Never mind that,' said Thasha quickly. 'Be an angel, Pacu. Fetch me a gla.s.s of water.'

When she had gone Thasha turned and looked at the tarboys. 'Darlings!' she said.

'Thasha,' said Pazel. 'You're swaying.'

'You'd be swaying too if you tipped left and right.'

Neeps' jaw dropped. 'Lord Rin,' he whispered. 'She's drunk.'

Pazel leaned closer, sniffing. 'Brandy! Oh Thasha, that was a bad idea.'

'Yes,' she said. 'It took me about half a minute to realise that. But I'm all right.'

Hercol returned, with Mr Fiffengurt at his side. 'The girl's been drinking,' Neeps informed them. 'Eat something, Thasha. Anything. Rose petals. Gra.s.s. Make yourself sick before--'

'Neeps,' said Pazel. 'She's not exactly falling down.'

'Ha!' said Thasha. 'Not yet.'

'Don't joke about that, that,' hissed Fiffengurt. 'You shouldn't have drunk a blary thing! Foolish, foolish, mistress!'

'That it certainly was,' said Hercol. 'More than any of us, you need your wits about you. But we must make the best of it now. Perhaps the drink will steady you for the ordeal to come. h.e.l.lo, Admiral.'

Eberzam Isiq had arrived at the gate, quite winded. He waved at Thasha in distress. 'She has - I objected fiercely - but the fact is--'

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