by Andre Norton
“I trust so,” I replied. Above all I would need all the Essence could give me this night. Ravinga’ s charm was well awork, though I had not suffered any of the forwarding pain and excitement which was often discussed among women themselves.
Ruffine appeared a little taken back by my calm. But I did not know just how I would properly appear under the circumstances and thought I should modestly keep silent and as withdrawn as possible. I must indeed make sure that I would not be the center of attention for only males. Luckily custom would come to my aid. Would-be mates must not approach a possible bride unless she signified interest, though that did not rescue her from their regard.
I dropped the curtains of the carry chair once I was inside. Already the news must be current in the house, to be followed very soon by speculation over which noble I might favor. Sometimes such choosing went on for days, the maiden coy and the unwed warriors and courtiers present. At least I did not face that—my supposed fate would be made plain tonight.
In the Chambers of the Queen:
Berneen held the goblet in her hand. The contents had an odd metallic scent. She wanted nothing more than to hurl the whole thing away from her. Now she had to steady it with both hands lest she let their shaking dribble the contents on her feast finery.
“Drink!” There was no softness in that order.
Queen Yuikala stood clad in the new splendor of a diamond frosted robe of winter snow-white. Her crown was a fan of white fur, combed and stiffened about the head-hugging portion of a diamond-studded cap which covered all her hair. A prisoning collar of silver and diamonds flowed over her breast, glittering white to her waist. To Berneen’s eyes she was a presence one could never hope to disobey.
The goblet still shook in spite of the girl’s effort to control her hands as she raised it.
The Queen raised one hand a little as if intending to grasp that cup and press it firmly to Berneen’s lips, forcing it into her mouth.
Berneen uttered a little moan but then she drank. She might have stuffed fire into her mouth, a terrible heat which burned her throat and then settled into her middle as she swayed. Yuikala caught her by the shoulder in punishing grip and kept her standing.
The girl gasped. “Please—”
Suddenly she no longer felt so weak. There was no more pain, though the heat still filled her. Oddly that was fast banishing her fears. What had she to fear? By the moment she gained strength. She jerked herself free of the Queen’s hold. Her grandmother had also lost the tension of a moment before. Yuikala nodded.
“Well done. But remember well what has been told to you.”
Berneen’s head was held high. For the first time since she had been summoned to court she did not wish to hide herself. Why should she—for this night she would become what her grandmother promised—First Lady of the Empire, the chosen Companion.
“I remember,” even her voice had taken on a new strong note. “I am to stay always with you, I am not to notice if any lord pays me attention. There is only one man who will count.”
The queen stepped back and viewed her critically from head to foot.
“Well enough. It is time to go.”
Hynkkel-ji:
Murri sat before me and I felt his critical appraisal. As usual I was imprisoned in a heavy robe, the back skirting of which trained for some distance across the floor. Its presence was not only irritating but had always to be kept in mind. It was of a green-blue, patterned in ovals which suggested feline eyes, each centered by a pupil of a gem as pale as a diamond but still with a hint of the green-blue—a new stone found in the lava from Azhengir’s fiery outbreaks. The outer robe was edged by fluffed and treated oryxen mane. The roll of fur stood tall behind my head, its two lengths open to the waist where a wide belt of the gems drew it together. My crown was a circle of several rings of the gems, set in silver, fastened to a tight cap.
I could see in the mirror this puppet of an Emperor half hidden by these trappings, and not for the first time I thought of decrees to change court dress. Not that the finery-loving courtiers would obey, any more than the outlaws had the decree concerning peace with the Sand Cats.
In my mind I again felt Murri’s amusement.
“Excellent for traveling,” he commented. “What passes in the minds of those gathered here, Brother, that they must so wrap themselves? Certainly they cannot hope to dance in the proper fashion.”
I well remembered the air borne graceful leaps and floatings which formed dancing for my brother’s kind, and I laughed.
“No, I do not dance so, Murri—We do not know the freedom of your kind. No matter; there will be other things to consider tonight.”
“Your mate, brother?”
I shook my head so hard, I suddenly worried if I had loosened the crown.
“Not so. Yes, these of the court will think her so. She will be safer with us than if she was left behind. When we set out, do you be on guard for her also.”
He yawned, arose, and moved towards the door. “I hear and obey,” he returned in mockery of courtly language.
Allitta:
I left the carry chair in the outer courtyard, crowded near to the walls with just such equipage as had brought me here. Since I was alone, I had made arrangements that the captain of my guard accompany me to the assembly room. We had not taken more than a few steps before I became well aware that I could not hope to pass unnoted. But I kept my eyes straight ahead and held to my chosen avoidance of those around me. Luckily I had not been returned to my rank long enough to have made acquaintances of any of the noble families. In fact I had been avoided in turn by them, which had suited me well.
At the door curtain, held aside by servants, I dismissed the Captain with my thanks and went forward. It was my hope that outwardly I did not display what churned within me. What I was to do this night was so alien to my wishes and the life I had marked out for myself that I had to force every step I took.
I was announced in the flattering terms used on such occasions. Heads turned—far more interest was being shown in me now than since I had mounted the throne steps and Hynkkel-ji had reinstated me in my heritage. As Head of one of the Six Houses I had my ordained place and I headed straight for that.
The rising din of voices near drowned out the sweet music of the kifonggs, but now and then came a short roll of drums which did reach one’s ears. Such came even as I reached the line between the House Heads of Orsmer and Raferhok. There was a stir by the other entrance to the larger chamber, that which connected with the inner Palace. Into the clash of colors of gems and fine materials, the two leading newcomers advanced hand in hand. It was the Queen of Diamonds and her granddaughter.
I knew instantly, as did all those nearby, that Berneen had indeed fulfilled Yuikala’s hopes—the girl was in heat. There was a difference in her—she, for the first time I had seen her in company, was confident. There was even a faint shadow of the Queen’s ever present arrogance to be detected in the way she carried herself—no sign now of any shrinking from company.
They proceeded to the throne of Valapa’ s queen where Berneen had been provided with stacked cushions slightly behind her grandmother’s place. Behind her where the male courtiers were gathered—there was movement, almost like a sand dune under the thrusting of the wind, though it did not advance far. Berneen had a court of her own, though she did not steal any glances towards those eager noblemen.
Whether I, also, had a gathering behind me I did not want to know. Only let this begin and be as quickly over. I clasped my hands and kept my head high, my gaze away from my neighbors—neither of them had given me any greeting.
Once again the drums rolled. Between the upheld curtains Hynkkel-ji entered. Though he was tall and, as I knew, well muscled, his ornate robe seemed to burden him, turning him into more of a doll than the image Ravinga had made.
On either side of the Emperor paced Murri and Akeea. Thus the courtiers must part a wide path for the trio. We had risen to our feet at his entrance. The
Queen and her candidate for his notice were standing nearer to his path. But Murri turned his head a little and those great golden eyes met mine. A moment later Hynkkel glanced in my direction and I knew that Murri had passed the message to his blood brother.
CHAPTER 13
Hynkkel-ji:
I was aware of the tension about me. How many of these here, I wondered, knew of Yuikala’s plan? As I approached the Queen to whom I must first render greeting I sensed something else, an inner excitement being fed from a source new to me. So—she had tampered with matters controlled by the Essence. Berneen had come into heat.
The girl who had seemed little more than a child to me had changed. Her soft face looked as if the mask of a woman several years older covered it. There was a curl of lip that made very plain her heritage; so much was it like the Queen’s.
And—Murri’s thought reached me. “Think, Brother, this one is ripe for the taking.”
There was no amusement in that comment.
Yuikala was bending knee slightly in the obeisance proper for the occasion. I kept my eyes on her, though I was only too conscious of the white-clad figure moving forward, probably in answer to some gesture from her grandmother.
I had never been subjected to the full power of enticement a maid in heat could project, since in my homeland I had been considered too lowly to notice. Now warmth which was not the result of my weighty robe, flushed my face. My body was answering to a strange compulsion.
“August One,” the Queen said. “I beg your favor for the one new to our court.”
Berneen was sinking in a very low curtsey. However Yuikala’s confidence had led her astray. No untitled one, no matter of how high a House, could be greeted before the Six who were standing a short distance away. It was from them that future Queens would be drawn, and each House had given in turn a woman to hold that title.
I grasped quickly at Yuikala’s mistake. Looking at last directly at the girl I did not even grant her a nod. I heard a faint sound from Yuikala as I moved toward the House Heads. The men drew themselves up, their right arms across their breasts in salute, Allitta giving the prescribed curtsey.
Again I sensed something of the same attraction. Surely she had NOT come into heat at will. I was sure that Ravinga could not break the ancient laws. I was also certain that Allitta would not allow herself to act against custom. However it was true that there now arose from her the same enticement with which Berneen had threatened my senses. Only now I need not practice the control to hold me safe.
Even hampered as I was by my robe I took an eager step towards her. For our plan was working and my interest would not be suspect. All knew that we had met when she was in exile and I was the least of my clan.
My hand went out and I drew her up from her curtsey.
“High Lady,” I used the proper greeting, “Our court is indeed graced by your presence.”
I could hear gasps, some muttered words not too far away. Never before in any public place had I so unbent before a woman.
“August One,” she replied in a clear and carrying voice, “you pay me great honor.”
I carried the hand I still held to my lips, and pressed it. Now the sounds from the audience were louder gasps. I was granting Allitta—in public—the treatment of a Companion.
However such a choice was always staged in public, as I had learned when researching the history of earlier reigns. And usually with no more courting than this. There might be a lot of speculation—there would be. But no one would ask questions. Unlike the customary ritual when a maid could choose her mate, the Emperor need only signify his choice and all other nobles would immediately withdraw.
I must move on, reach the throne. But still I did not release Allitta. Holding her hand high in mine, I drew her along, Murri moving in on her other side.
At that moment I longed to look back at the Queen. That I had ruined all her plans would not defeat her—I was sure of that. Murri’s thought came.
“She is raging, brother. A she-one so used nurses wrath over her defeat.”
“And the girl?” I thought back, for I remembered her youth and how she had disliked the court. Whatever Yuikala had done she had aroused Berneen and in such a state she was dangerously vulnerable.
“She is running, brother. Already she is through the curtains—gone.”
I had blundered, perhaps badly. To those who had been aware of the Queen’s plotting, my turning to Allitta would be an unforgettable insult. And what could I do to make sure Berneen would not now be sneered out of a life of her own?
In the feast chamber—Feast of Farewell:
Queen Yuikala paid no attention to the wild retreat of her granddaughter. She stood, drawing on her inner power as if the girl had never accompanied her. There was the hiss of whispers—they were like death-lizards, the full lot of them! Rage choked her and she fought to keep it from bursting forth in curses.
The insolence of that creature out of Kahulawe! A barbarian nothing! And that green girl he thought to honor—Vurope had vanished once before—it could again. This slut—she had traveled the trade routes, been apprenticed to a workwoman. Everyone knew how they lived. Yes, she was fit to match with a stupid outlander. Bring them both down. Already there were those oathed to do that. Berneen—the Queen had carefully kept control of her features—allowing no scowl, no sign of her anger to show. Berneen might still be a weapon to be put to good use. But she could not withdraw from this assembly until the end. No one must be allowed think that the barbarian and his slut had banished her—
Berneen’s sandaled foot caught in the trailing skirt of her over robe. She felt it tear, but she gathered up the skirt and ran on. They were laughing; everyone would laugh. He had not even really looked at her! Yes, they would laugh and Grandmother would be really angry. She might even have Berneen beaten as she had ordered her maid to be yesterday. Away—just let her get away from this awful place. Where could she go?
Pain pierced her body and she staggered, clutching the door curtain of a room opening off the hall. She halted; cried out in pain. It was gone and then it came again. Her hands pressed on her lower body as she tried to ease her misery.
“Lady—are you ill?”
Another pain. She flung out her left hand trying to find a hold to steady her. Her fingers were caught in a warm, strong clasp, and then she was leaning back against the support of a sturdy body.
“Ahhhhh—” That pain!
She found herself swept up. She was being carried into the room before which she had stopped. With tears running down her cheeks, she turned her head to look up.
The face under the fluffed, diamond-dusted warrior’s headdress was young. He was looking at her with open concern.
“It hurts,” she said simply, as if she were indeed a child.
The room was dim after the well-lighted hallway. Only one of the bubble lights swayed there. It swung down towards Berneen and him who carried her. There was a pile of lounging cushions and he carefully lowered her to rest, even as the lash of pain again curled about her.
“Nooooo!” She cried out. Her body twisted; she sunk her hands into the cushions at her sides.
“Lady—I will bring help—”
Frantically she reached out and grabbed at the hem of his short uniform. “No,” she panted, her body arching under another attack. “Do—do not leave—Please—!”
“But you need tending—” he began.
“She—I do not want her—there is no one—ohhhh!” She released her hold and stiffened on the cushions. Black terror had her now. What they had done—what had Grandmother done and she herself been persuaded to do? They had broken the Law of the Essence! How could she hope for help? Was she dying?
“Lady!” He was on his knees beside her, had slipped an arm behind her shoulders and was bracing her shuddering body. “You must have help!’ ”
“There is—no—help—” Berneen choked out.
There came a last vicious stab, a spear might have been thrust thr
ough her. She was left limp and shaking; only his hold supported her.
Weakly she turned her head to look at him. There was open concern in his expression. “When—when the Essence takes me,” somehow she got out the words. “Do you leave me quickly. She must not know that you have been with me. She is—is the Queen. I am Berneen, her granddaughter and I have failed her. She will have no pity for me, and her rage will spread to you. Please go now—they will come seeking—”
The pain did not strike again but she felt that she had no control over her body. It was now an effort to breathe.
“Hush.” The low-pitched word came as a command.
He settled himself farther back in the cushion nest and drew her closer to him, cradling her in his arms. The comforting warmth of him fought the chill that had sent her into shuddering.
“So—”
“Hush!” he again ordered her.
She could not urge him again. There was no way she could force him from her—save him. A creeping shadow began to enfold her. She sighed and closed her eyes and let the dark take her.
Allitta:
It had all happened so swiftly that I was like one of Ravinga’s dolls being placed in view by another’s will. By the time we had reached the throne from which Hynkkel-ji was to view this festival, servants had readied a lower seat heaped with scarlet cushions. To this he led me with the same ceremony by which he had acknowledged me. Luckily custom demanded nothing from me at this point. I had only to be seated and leave all to him. Murri took his place at my left side as Akeea was to the right of the Emperor.
“Queen-one.”
I was startled, but not so much as to look to the Sand Cat. It was true that Hynkkelji could easily communicate with Murri, but that the great cat could thought-speak to others I had not known. However, the words had been directed to me. There was only one Queen within this crowded chamber and her place was now directly facing the Emperor’s throne.
That Murri’s thought had been a warning of sorts I was sure. Thus I did look to her. The crowd of courtiers was forming into line—they must each come in turn and speak to me of my new rank and congratulate Hynkkel-ji, wishing us both joy—though we certainly would not experience much of that.