by John Norman
“Your allegiance is only to yourself,” he said.
“As yours is only to yourself?” she inquired.
“In my case,” smiled Iaachus, “the interest of the empire, and my own interest, coincide perfectly.”
“A most happy coincidence,” she observed.
“Precisely,” he said.
“As I mentioned earlier,” he said, “the greatest danger faced by the empire comes not from without, but from within, from traitors.”
“Of course,” she said.
“And, particularly,” said he, lowering his voice, “from traitors of insatiable ambition, villains who, with the help of barbarians, would aspire to seize the throne itself.”
Her eyes widened.
“You have heard of the Aurelianii?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “They are kin even to the emperor.”
“Which makes them even more dangerous,” he said.
“Their loyalty is unquestioned,” she said.
“No,” confided Iaachus.
She reached for the tiny bowl of kana, but her hand shook.
“Julian, of the Aurelianii,” said he, “has designs upon the throne. He plans to enlist barbarians in the mobile forces, as mercenary companies, with ships, with weapons, at their disposal. They will owe their allegiance only to him, not to the empire.”
“Have him seized,” she said. “Confiscate his property. Surely it is considerable.”
The Aurelianii were one of the oldest, and richest, families in the empire. They traced their roots back to the original Telnarian world, the home world of the empire itself.
“He is too powerful, we must be careful how we proceed, we do not wish to precipitate civil war. There are portions of the navy which are loyal to him.”
“What are we to do?” she asked.
“We must drive a wedge between him and his barbarian cohorts, we must frustrate his scheme of enlisting barbarians in the regular forces. That is crucial. That is the first step. We must deprive him of these allies, and, in doing this, cast discredit entirely upon his probity, and the feasibility of his plan to defend the empire.”
“Can the empire defend itself?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“Who is the barbarian, or barbarians, in question,” she asked.
“First, and primarily, one whom he encountered, it seems, on the forest world of Varna, a chieftain of the Wolfungs.”
“I have never heard of them,” she said.
“They are a tribe of the Vandals,” he said.
“I have not heard of such a people,” she said.
That was, of course, a genuine possibility at that time. At that time, you see, few in the empire had heard of the Vandals. Indeed, at that time, few outside of the administration and the military had heard even of the Alemanni, or, as the imperial records have it, the Aatii. And even in the war office such peoples tended to be dismissed, much as one might think little of rumblings in the distance, the darkenings of far skies, the occasional flash of lightning over distant mountains, such things, things far away.
“His name,” said Iaachus, “is Ottonius.”
She moved the bowl of kana a bit on the table with her finger, turning it a little, watching the ruby fluid move in the shallow container.
“I am a woman,” she said.
“But one highborn, one of lofty family, of noble station, one who may be relied upon.”
She looked up at him.
“And one, one supposes, of great beauty,” he said.
She stiffened again, slightly, as she had once before. She regarded him, irritably.
She was vain of her striking beauty, and took great pleasure in it. She enjoyed the effect, too, which it seemed to have on men, as it seemed to put them much at her mercy. She enjoyed using it to tantalize, and frustrate, men. It was pleasant to taunt them, and arouse them, and then, with cold pleasure, deny them.
“And one of great wealth?” she asked.
“That is for you to decide,” he said.
“It is said,” she said, “that Iaachus is the most powerful man in the empire.”
“I am only the humble Arbiter of Protocol,” he said, “a modest office, an ancillary office, with little authority or power affixed thereto.”
“It is said you have the ear of the empress mother,” she said.
“She consults me on small matters,” said he, “having to do with the arrangements, and etiquette, of the court.”
“What is to be the fate of this Ottonius?” she asked.
“He is leaving in two days for Tangara, to recruit a comitatus, a company, among Otungs. I shall see to it that our beloved Julian, scion of the Aurelianii, will be unable to accompany him.”
“Tangara is far away,” she said.
“Its provincial capital is Venitzia,” he said.
“And what is to happen on Tangara?” she asked.
Iaachus rose to his feet, went to a cupboard at the side of the room, opened it, moved some small objects on a shelf to one side, and pressed a button, that actuating a panel which, sliding back, revealed a small recess. From this recess he withdrew a flat, rectangular leather case. He placed this on a table at the side of the room, returning to the cupboard to close the recess, rearrange the articles on the shelf, and shut the cupboard door. He then brought the leather case from the table at the side of the room and returned to his seat at the table near the center of the room. He placed the leather case on this table, between them.
She looked at him, and then, with two hands, lifted up the lid of the leather case.
“It is beautiful,” she said.
“Who knows what may happen on a primitive world such as Tangara,” he said, “particularly once one is outside the fences of the capital?
“Be careful,” he said.
In the container there lay a dagger, or poniard, small, and delicate, with a slender, gleaming blade, some seven inches in length, and an oval, yellow handle, some five inches in length, with a swirled design in black wrought within it.
“It is a woman’s dagger,” she said.
“Yes,” he said.
Between the hilt and the slender blade there was a guard, one of its terminations scrolled toward the point, the other back, toward the hilt.
The guard, of course, aside from permitting resources of additional leverage, if needed, would prevent the hand from slipping down the blade. In certain situations that is a not negligible advantage of this sort of tool. Such guards, with their capacity to protect the hand, are common in certain forms of weapons, where the strike might be made through silk or velvet, a silk or velvet concealing, say, a lining, or a coat or jacket, of interwoven metal links.
She looked up at him, puzzled.
“Do not touch the blade,” he said. “It is coated with a transparent poison. The tiniest cut, the smallest break, in the skin will introduce the poison into the wound. A most unpleasant, most ugly, death would ensue within seconds.”
“It need not be driven into the body then,” she said, looking at it.
“It is marvelously sharp,” he said. “The strength of a child would suffice to drive it into a man’s body.”
“Or that of a woman,” she said.
“To the hilt,” he said.
“I see,” she said.
“But a scratch would suffice,” he said.
“If you wish him slain,” she said, “why do you not hire ruffians to manage the business?”
The eyes of Iaachus clouded. Then he smiled. “No,” he said, “it is better done by an agent, on a distant world, far from public attention, by an agent whose presence would arouse no suspicion, by an agent who would be utterly unsuspected.”
“What if I cannot approach him, what if he is armored?” she asked.
“You will doubtless be able to approach him,” he said, “and I suspect that, at times, in your presence, armor would be laid aside, and, if not, remember that so small a thing as a scratch on the back o
f the hand will be quite enough.
“Are you interested in this matter?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said. “But I am not a mariner, not a gunner, not a technician. I do not understand under what excuse, or pretext, I might be included in a crew voyaging to Tangara on such a business.”
“There will be various goods taken with the vessel to Tangara,” he said.
“‘Goods’?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “trade goods, and goods to smooth the way, to serve as inducements, to serve as gifts, and such, things that barbarians might find of interest, for example, skins, wines, grains, cloths, gems, silks, oils, copper plates, spices, gold, brooches, rings, nails, wire, ivory, iron, silver, goods, many forms of goods, ranging from the common to the exquisite.”
“To the exquisite?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “such as emerald cameos, carved in the likeness of the emperor.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Drink your kana,” he said.
She lifted the tiny bowl to her lips. Over the rim, of purest luxite porcelain, from the valley of Raf, milled later in the tradition of the Toronichi, she regarded him. Her eyes were blue. Then she put back her head and drained the shallow container. As she had her head back he glimpsed, in the partage of her high brocaded collar, her white throat. She then again regarded him. She then replaced the tiny bowl, now empty, on the table.
Her hair was blond.
It was fixed in a way not uncommon among high ladies of the empire, being fixed upward, formally, stiffly, in an intricate coiffure, held tightly in place by a rather rectangular, peaked, enclosing frame, a headdress in effect, of golden wire and jeweled leather.
“Of course,” he said, “it may be that you would prove to be an unsuitable choice for the matter at hand.”
“Unsuitable?” she inquired.
“That you might not prove an appropriate choice for the agent in question, that it is not, at the moment, clear that you possess the necessary qualifications.”
“Milord?” she inquired.
“In the role in which you would be cast,” he said, “you must be believable. If you are not, suspicions would be immediately aroused, and all might be lost.”
“It is my hope that I might prove believable in the role which I am to play,” she said.
“My informants suggest that there would be no difficulty in the matter,” he said.
“Informants?” she said.
“Attendants at the women’s baths, and such.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“But you understand that I must be sure of the matter,” he said. “There is much at stake.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Rise, and stand there,” he said, pointing to a place on the marbled floor, a few feet from the table.
“For what reason?” she asked.
“Do it,” he said.
“I am not accustomed to being addressed in that fashion,” she said, coldly.
“Now,” he said.
“Good,” he said. “Now remove your clothing, completely.”
“Milord!” she protested.
“Do so,” he said, not patiently.
"Do so," he said, not patiently.
"I am of the senatorial class!" she said.
"Now," he said.
She angrily removed the robes, and the many garments beneath them. It was not easy for her to do, as women of her station were customarily assisted by one or more maids in these tasks.
"Ah," he said.
Her eyes flashed fire.
"Straighten your body," he said. "Good.
"You are angry?" he asked.
"I am of the senatorial class!" she said, in fury.
"Is this the first time you have been naked before a man?" he asked.
"Yes!" she said.
"Remove your headdress," he said. "Loosen your hair."
"Please!" she said.
"Now," he said.
Angrily she unfastened the headdress, and lifted it off, and put it to one side, with the robes on the floor, near her feet, and then fumbled with the net and wire. It had taken better than three hours for her coiffure to be arranged earlier in the day.
"Shake your hair loose," he said.
With an angry shake of her head she freed her hair.
"Put it behind your shoulders," he said.
In fury she put it back, behind her.
"Turn," he said, "slowly."
She complied.
"Now kneel here," he said, indicating a place near the table.
"Straighten your back, put your hands on your thighs, put your head up, widen your knees."
He then regarded her, with care.
"With the expedition to Tangara," he said, "among the trade goods, the gifts, and such, to be kept, distributed, or utilized at the discretion of the barbarian, there will be twenty slave girls, who must be of remarkable beauty, of the highest order of beauty.''
She looked up at him.
"You are trembling," he said. "But, of course, it must be the first time you have been before a man in such a position."
"And in what position am I?" she asked.
"In one of the common positions of the female slave," he said.
She made an angry noise.
"I would not look into the eyes of a male," he said, "or any free person, for that matter, unless you sense that it is permitted, or you have been commanded to do so."
"I am free!" she cried.
"Yes," he said, "but to see you kneel so, one might forgiven for having doubted it."
"I will rise!" she announced.
"Not without its being permitted," he said.
"I am free, am I not?" she said.
"Of course," he said.
But she remained kneeling. She had not received permission to rise.
"Yes," he said, approvingly, "I think you will do very nicely."
"I suppose I should be pleased," she said.
"Of course," he said.
She shook, half in trepidation, half in fury. She did not know whether she was pleased, or angered. Within her lovely, tumultuous bosom feelings warred.
Then she became again the woman of the senatorial class.
"I shall see that you are included on the cargo manifest for Tangara," he said.
"The other nineteen women will also be free women, of high class?" she said.
"No," he said. "They will be common slave girls, save, of course, that they will be of extraordinary beauty."
"But I will be the most beautiful," she said.
"One does not know," he said. "One must see what the men think."
"I despise men," she said. "But not your lordship, of course," she added, quickly.
"Another agent will be sent with you," he said. "But, in the interests of security, he will make himself known to you only later."
"He will be a member of the crew?"
"Yes."
"He will bring the dagger?"
"Yes, and he will, of course, assist you in your work, in so far as it is practical."
"I do not understand," she said.
"He will see that you obtain the knife," he said. "After all, it is not he who is likely to be alone with the barbarian at night.''
"I see," she said.
"Too, of course, he must arrange for your mutual flight, after the deed, and see that you are returned safe and sound to the inner precincts of the empire, to receive your rewards, your renewed wealth and status, your new estates and palaces, such tokens of an empire's gratitude."
"My thanks, milord!" she said.
"Do you think you can carry off this matter?" he asked.
"Surely, milord," she smiled.
"Do you think that you will be able to stand it," he asked, "if your small, fair limbs should be encircled with steel, if you should feel chains upon your beauty, if your neck might even feel upon it a collar of steel?"
"I would know such th
ings to be an empty farce," she said.
"I think that you would find that they would hold you as well as any other girl upon the ship."
" 'Girl'?" she asked.
"Such an expression," he said, "is commonly used of the female slave, perhaps because she is lowly, and nothing, perhaps because it sweeps away cant and hypocrisy, and speaks of unmitigated, direct, uncompromising sexuality."
"I could wear chains," she said, "contenting myself with the knowledge that a hundred times their weight in gold awaits me later!"
"You may rise," he said.
She leapt to her feet and ran to her clothing, which lay strewn on the marble.
She began to gather it up, and sort it out. She turned to him.
"May I bring my intimate maid?" she asked.
"No," smiled Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol.
"How then shall I manage?" she asked, puzzled.
"The slave girl, which will be your guise," he said, "seldom needs assistance in dressing, for her garb is commonly simple, if, indeed, any is permitted to her at all."
"What of my hair?" she asked.
"That, too, will be quite simple," he said. "It need only be well washed, brushed and combed-vital, abundant, full-bodied, glossy and long."
"I would take my maid with me," she said.
"No," he said.
"I would have more kana," she said, irritably.
"No," he said.
"Do not dress here," he said. "I have work to do."
She stood there, clutching her garments about her.
"I would forget, for the time," he said, "the drinking of kana from luxite vessels. I would rather accustom myself to the prospect of drinking water from pans, on all fours."
"Doubtless it is time that I was on my way," she said.
"Doubtless," he concurred.
She threw him a look of fury.
She had been conducted to the palace secretly, and would be returned to her chambers in the city in the same way. But it would be best if as few as possible noted the comings and goings of a mysterious party, arriving and parting in darkness, hurrying in and out of a closed carriage, a party which consisted, it might seem, of some high lady and her escort.
"You may leave," he said.
"I am not to be addressed in that fashion," she said. "I am a lady of the senatorial class."
"You are now an agent, and will take orders," he said.
She stiffened, angrily, holding her garments about her.