Kade considered a moment, and Herald knew he was orienting on the hope he had extended, the rationale for the naturalness of Psyche's manifestation, an explanation that excluded the concept of Possession. The Duke turned to Whirl. "Witness, are you satisfied?"
"No," Whirl said. "I can no longer accept the validity of the opinion of this expert."
Herald had hoped it would not come to this, though he had been sure it would. The Enemy Witness was rigorously honest, and he had good reason for his doubt.
"And why not," Kade demanded, "since you selected him?"
"I can answer that," Herald said, deciding not to force the Earl into this unpleasant chore. "Last night the Lady Kade and I made love."
The Duke's whole body stiffened. "Witness?" he demanded tightly, and in that instant it was evident that the prefix "enemy" had been shifted from Dollar to Healer.
"True," the Earl said. "Voluntary by both parties, however. No force or coercion was involved."
The Duke turned rigidly to Herald. "And what do you propose to do now?"
Herald spread his hands. "I don't know. I am afraid the Witness is correct. I am no longer an objective party, and cannot exonerate your daughter of the charge against her. I will naturally waive my fee and depart..." But could be depart? He had met Aura, and he was in love, however complicated the circumstances.
"Then accept this." And stepping forward, the Duke of Kade struck Herald across the face smartly with his pair of gloves. The material was soft, but it was a smarting impact. Herald stumbled back, perplexed. He was conversant with feudal customs, as heraldry derived from them, but this was confusing. "You challenge me to a duel, sir?"
"To the death, sir. Choose weapons."
"I am not certain I can accept such a challenge. May I inquire your reason?"
"The honor of my daughter."
Oh. Herald had thought the Duke would want to be rid of him as quickly as possible, by having him Transfer out. But that would not alleviate the political ramifications. Because any liaison between the Lady of Kade and the Scion of Skot would now be problematical; a creature from another Galaxy had preempted initial honors. "This I understand. But before I accept your challenge, there is something you should know—"
"Choose!"
Herald shrugged. "Laser swords, of course."
"Come this way," Kade said curtly, stalking from the room.
Herald paused to address the Earl. "It seems the personal matter has preempted the business matter. In the event I am not available to testify, I hope you will bear in mind the qualifications of my observation when you report to your authorities. The Lady Kade suffers from no ordinary Possession, and there seems to be no relation to what befell her mother. I believe another expert will confirm my findings. The Lady deserves this chance."
"I will so note," Whirl said.
"Thank you." Herald turned and followed the Duke out.
In the arms room the Duke opened a chest to reveal a fine pair of laser swords. Each was no more than a handle. "Do you wish to inspect?"
"No need," Herald said. "I am certain they are uniform."
Each man lifted a handle and walked to the open court that was adjacent. Here a shaft of sun came down, for this was in the outer castle where the walls were lower and the spaces larger. Herald squeezed his unit, and the blade appeared; a double laser band, the twin beams merging and phasing out about an arm's length from his grasp. He was careful to keep the blade and point out of the way of the furniture. The Duke did the same.
"Do you require a second?" Kade inquired.
Herald considered momentarily. A second would be better, but it would be awkward to set this up now. "In the circumstances, I believe we can dispense with this. Your servants are watching covertly from the embrasures."
The Duke made a snort almost of mirth. The two advanced to the center of the defined court, where lines set off the dueling range. "As ready," Kade said, striking his pose, sword elevated.
"Ready," Herald agreed, bringing his weapon to bear somewhat negligently.
Instantly the Duke struck, and Herald parried expertly, his point touching the other blade near the handle to interrupt the beams and snuff them out. The Duke jumped back, then promptly lunged—and Herald nullified his beams again with a seemingly offhand flick of his wrist.
"You are conversant," Kade muttered.
"I tried to advise you, sir. I am of Sphere Slash, Andromeda, a natural laser culture."
"Sol is also a laser culture!"
"Certainly." Herald nullified a third attack, this time flicking his point across the Duke's hand as he disengaged. His seeming negligence was merely complete confidence in his own competence; he could spot a laser anywhere he wanted, regardless of the host. It was inborn.
The pain of that swipe had to be intense, for the laser of these formal swords did not burn, but stimulated the nerves of the flesh it touched, overloading them until they could not respond. A touch of an instant hurt; a longer touch would stun the nerves so that it was as though the limb had been severed. But the Duke retained his grip. "Do you mock me?" he cried, his face reddening.
Perplexed at this reaction to first blood, Herald stepped back. "I merely show you my capability, lest you be unaware. Though this host is clumsy and weak, laser is my inherent weapon. Do you wish to withdraw your challenge?" This was a bit insulting, but Herald had no wish to kill the Duke. Since it had been defined as a duel to the death, the only way he could spare the man was by convincing him to have a change of heart.
For answer, Kade hurled his sword point-blank. This unorthodox and dangerous maneuver caught Herald by surprise. He tried to dodge aside, but the sword penetrated his abdomen. There was an instant of sharp pain in his gut, then nothing.
Astonished, he found himself standing unwounded. "Your sword is defective!" he exclaimed.
"My sword is tuned to half power—like yours!" the Duke retorted. "You mock me with a play-duel!"
"I did not know of this," Herald protested, turning off his blade. "How could I detune the swords when I neither touched nor inspected them?"
"I did it," Psyche said from the doorway. "When Whirl woke me and told me what was happening, I ran to turn the weapon-circuit down, lest someone be hurt."
"You foiled my defense of your own honor!" the Duke cried, exasperated.
"My honor!" she flashed, in that manner reflecting the laser-culture aspect of her kind. "Did you suppose I did not heed that honor last night? A Lady needs no defense; she does what is proper in the circumstance. I love him!"
"And I love her," Herald said. "I would not have taken her, had it been otherwise."
"Then why did you not offer to marry her?" Kade demanded.
Surprised, Herald spread his hands. "It did not occur to me that such a thing would be in order."
"Not in order! You, a leading heraldic artisan, expert in ceremonial arms and manner, you did not know the custom?"
"I regret if I overestimated your own knowledge of custom on the Cluster level," Herald said. "I am of Sphere Slash, Andromeda, and the leading Kirlian entity."
"So you have said!"
"We of Slash labor under what is called the Curse of Llume, reflecting an episode of the Second War of Energy. Thus we are deemed the lowest culture of a subject galaxy. It is no honor to marry a Slash, even were my natural form not the every serpent abhorred by the mythology of Psyche's name. I forgot myself last night, in the ambience of the most remarkable aura of all time and space. But in the morning I knew it could not be."
"Why could it not be?" Psyche demanded, her eyes glowing orange like her father's.
"Had I presumed to demand your hand in marriage from your father, he would surely have declined permission."
The Duke of Kade nodded, agreeing. "Still you should have made the offer, providing me the occasion for that formality."
"Formality!" Psyche blazed. "Have I nothing to say about it?" She had become a creature of fire, absolutely lovely.
Herald tu
rned to her. "Would you, like your namesake, dress in mourning clothing to marry a serpent?" he asked her gently. "Though I appear to you in human form, I am in reality as ugly to your perception as the monster I banished yesterday. I have sharp cutting disks, and deadly lasers, and the shame of a thousand years. That form is invisible to you at the moment, as it were in the dark of night. Overwhelmed by your enhancement, I thought it did not matter, but—"
"I would not dress in mourning to marry you," she said with a rebellious expression.
"This was my realization of the morn," he said. "Therefore—"
"I would dress in celebration, in the finest bridal gown of Keep, and I would carry living flowers and walk in eternal sunlight by your side."
"Therefore the Duke does have grievance against me, for—" Herald paused. "You would marry me, a Slash?"
"Oh, my love," she said passionately. "Did you not suppose I knew your origin? It was never secret! What meaning do you think the Curse of Llume has to us of the Galaxy Llume saved? She made no curse; she made a blessing that your species should be proud to honor! But for her, I would not exist at all!"
Herald was amazed and deeply gratified by her expression. But now he remembered his forced betrothal to Flame of Furnace. How could he explain to adoring Psyche and her suspicious father that in order to marry her, he would first have to sire offspring by an alien female? "I cannot—"
"Pardon the intrusion," Whirl said. Herald had not seen him enter the courtyard, but of course he had had considerable distraction. "It is not precisely my business, still I feel concern. Did the Healer love the Lady for her demon aura alone, and now that it has phased away no longer has interest in the host? In that case a ready solution offers—"
"The Lady has no demon aura!" Herald exclaimed. "There was no Possession in the sense you mean. But if she had, I would love that demon, for it is but an aspect of herself. It is my own fitness I question, not hers."
The Duke turned a newly appraising gaze on him. "I could not have phrased it better."
"Question no longer," Psyche said. "Last night in my enhancement I explored your aura from a vantage possible to no other entity, and even if I had not loved you and you me, it was fated that our auras unite. Of what account is mere physical form? Psyche will marry the serpent with the soul of a god."
To hell with Flame of Furnace! Herald faced the Duke. "Certain misunderstandings have been alleviated. I now request your permission."
It was Kade's turn to spread his hands. "This is not precisely what I would have chosen. You were correct in assuming I intended to decline your offer, though that would necessarily have abated my complaint of honor against you. But I now perceive my daughter will have her way. She is of Kade; she will not be balked. In the circumstance I discover no preferable alternative."
"Then let the banns be published," Whirl said. "Perhaps this will satisfy those I represent."
Then Psyche was in Herald's arms, raising her lips to be kissed, openly, joyously. Yet even in this moment of delight, Herald wondered: How much justice had there been in the Witness's question about the demon aura? Herald had felt twinges of attraction and, he saw in retrospect, even desire for this young Solarian female. She was physically and personally pretty. But love had manifested only with the enhancement of her aura.
It was not in him to love a minor aura, which was one reason he had not before allied himself with a female. He had refused to accept Flame of Furnace because of principle, but had known that no other aura in the Cluster could match hers. So few available females had auras above 150, and most of those had other qualities to qualify their eligibility. But a young, beautiful, sweet, rich, loving girl with an aura of 250—no, cancel the rest. Any female with an aura of 250 would have compelled his extreme interest, and he would have married her merely to guarantee association with that most remarkable ambience. But by similar token, even the youngest, most beautiful, sweetest, richest and lovingest female was of negligible interest, if her aura was no more than 25.
Which one was Psyche? Did he love her, or was she merely an alternative to the love he feared he would have for Flame of Furnace should he ever meet her physically and be conquered by her 190 aura? Did he have the right to marry Psyche thus, uncertain of the fundamental nature of his emotion? Oh, she was delightful at this moment, no chore to hold and kiss, but without the aura it might be no more than mere dalliance, even in the married state. Was it fair to her? Now he dared not tell her of Flame.
Psyche drew away, her orange eyes glancing into his for a touching moment, and he feared she had somehow divined his thoughts. "We forget the Weew," she said.
"What?" Herald could not align this with his train of thought. "Oh, yes, time for another interview with Hweeh."
"The Weew can wait," the Duke said. "We forget breakfast."
Psyche laughed, her fire and tension gone. "Life does continue!" They all headed for the odor of treesap syrup.
After breakfast, the Duke went about arranging publication of the banns and preparing Kastle Kade for the wedding. The Earl of Dollar made his farewells and departed, going to make his report to the enemy. "This union alters the situation," Whirl confided semiprivately. "The issue may emerge favorably."
Herald and Psyche interviewed the Weew again. Herald put his hand on the creature's inert mass, and evoked the horn and eyestalk.
"We were covering the myth of Cupid and Psyche," Herald said aloud. "Her husband of the night did not feel precisely like a winged serpent—" Oh, how close to the mark that struck now!
"But it was Cupid!" Psyche picked up promptly. So much had happened since the last interview that it was difficult to place the exact interruption. "Not a dragon, not a monster, not even an ordinary man, but the God of Love!" And she looked into Herald's eyes.
"Yes," Hweeh agreed. "It was he, constrained from revealing himself lest his mother, Venus, discover what he had done, and wreak her wrath on the innocent girl, whose only fault was her perfection." And Psyche smiled at Herald in momentary victory: The Weew was unaware of the interruption.
"But in time she grew curious," Hweeh continued, "and determined to see his face. If he were in fact a serpentine monster, she could cut off his head and be free of his spell."
Psyche jumped. "She would never do that! She loved him regardless!"
"Perhaps," Hweeh agreed after a pause. It was evident that he was beginning to catch on, for he was no stupid entity. "At any rate, she was as inquisitive as females of all species are reputed to be, from Pandora right up to the present. She took a sharp sword of metal and her burning lamp of oil and looked in the bed at night. There was Cupid, as handsome a Solarian god as she could have imagined. As she fell to her knees in joy and relief, ashamed of her prior doubt, drops of hot oil fell on his bare shoulder, awakening him. And Cupid disappeared."
"Oh," Psyche said, and it was as if she were part of the legend. "Foolish girl! Why could she not have had more faith!"
Suppose, Herald thought darkly, Psyche examined his background and discovered Flame of Furnace? One message to the Cluster Council, and he, Herald, would disappear, plucked from his dalliance and transferred against his will to Furnace to complete his obligation.
"The legends do reflect the frailties of their makers," Hweeh agreed. "Modern entities would probably behave more sensibly."
"Would they?" she asked. "If I had a chance to marry an entity like the God of Love, do you think I would agree never to look upon his true form? Never to question whether I had not trapped him into marriage against his better interests, or lured him with some transient quality that was not properly mine?"
She was certainly striking at the problem! Herald realized that it had not been female capriciousness that had reminded her of the interview with Hweeh. Did she, after all, suspect the manner in which Flame nullified the Cluster legitimacy of the forthcoming marriage? Was she trying to provide him a gracious, or at least tenable, mode of retreat? As he had tried to do for her father, during the duel?
Unless they wanted to be, Herald thought.
"Suppose he were attracted to her only for her aura," she persisted, talking nominally to Hweeh. "And then she lost it. Could she still marry him?"
Was she absolutely determined to have this out?
"Where is the Sador Witness?" Hweeh asked suddenly.
"He departed the castle," Herald said. "You were in shock again."
"What is this about marriage?"
"The banns are being published for the Lady Kade and me," Herald said. "Last night the Lady manifested an aura of two hundred fifty."
The horn whistled. "And now that aura is gone," Hweeh said. "Suddenly I understand. Do you seek my opinion?"
"Perhaps we do," Herald said.
"I had understood that entities of highest aura—" Hweeh started, but paused, perhaps realizing that this comment would not be diplomatic. "Of course, an aura of two hundred fifty would be the highest, so that convention—" He stopped again.
That was true! Herald had been betrothed to Flame of Furnace because she was the highest female Kirlian. But now Psyche was the highest. All he had to do was demonstrate that before a Cluster committee, and his marriage to Psyche would be legitimized. Meanwhile, no need to bother her about the matter. What a helpful insight Hweeh had provided—coincidentally?
"I am not certain," Herald said cautiously, "that it is fair to marry her in this circumstance. I was summoned to exorcise her demon, yet without that Possession, if we must call it that, I might not have had as much interest in her."
"If the thing that repels others is what attracts you, who has the better right to marry her?" Hweeh asked. "Others might desire superficial things, such as her physical beauty or her wealth or family status. This is not the case with you."
Herald turned this over in his mind, and it made sense. "I thank you for your insight, Hweeh of Weew. Now I can proceed with confidence." And so could she.
Kirlian Quest Page 11