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lackeys. "My Lady," I murmured to Murie as we picked up the royal cadence, "my regrets in this thing of Gen-Rondin. A certain indisposition-" She gnawed her lip and eyed me angrily. "By the gods, sir," she whispered, "play me no games. I know of your monster, love, and of poor Gen-Soolis...." Damn Rawl! I thought. He must have run to Caroween after all; though in Fregisian protocol, to tell his betrothed was in no way a breach of trust. "I also know of your 'indisposition," Murie was saying. "A seizure, sir? And I was not told?" "It was nothing, a lowly spell." "Indeed? Look to my father. Is that, too a 'lowly spell'? If you'd been here-" "The two are unconnected," "By the pits of Ghast, Collin. I'm to be your wife, remember?" "Murie," I said, still sotto voce, "we will indeed be wed. But Om is indeed again in Marack. And I must lead in this. Do you understand?" Tears brimmed her eyes, but she looked to me and nodded. The pomp and splendor of Marackian royalty is equaled in no feudal society anywhere; nor is it surpassed. This night, as usual, it was beauteous, dazzling. It was also tinsel and running dye. We, of course, sat at the king's table; being doubly flanked by two lines of tables at right angles to our centered three. All rose to bow their heads to the king and to his light and airy queen. He simply seated himself and the nightly feasting began. Indeed, at that precise moment a veritable parade of trays and service poured forth from the kitchens. In the summer past, the viands had been great roasts and shanks of meat from all manner of strange beasts; tureens of gravies sufficient to drown a midget; puddings, pastries, birds in every shape and size-and an endless pouring of varied wines, sviss, and other alcoholic beverages. Now it was but a simple fare of gog-meat, winter vegetables, sviss, and thin wines.. . Gaiety too had waned, for winter's grip was hard upon the Court: no partying; no hunting; no colorful tournaments-no bloody battles! The "solstice," of course, would be celebrated shortly, along with the "Staading," the day of the "granting of life" by the hallowed trinity of Ormon, the father, Wimbily, the mother, and Harris, the "lost child," who, when found, would, like the Collin mythos, me, restores the Northern peoples to the greatness they once had owned. In this respect, I'd oft' thought that the Pug Boos, who knew of their real history, had allowed a bit of race memory to remain so as to soften the trauma of true greatness, when it would one day be returned to them. Whatever, for the moment even the advent of this most religious of all days had yet to grab the citizenry. Our plain food done, we settled to drinks and entertainment. A trained snow-carnivore was first. It was a kuul, all white but with Fregisian blue eyes, great ripping fangs to scare a gerd, and taloned pads. It curled its huge, six-legged body into a ball and rolled this way and that to the command of its trainer. The kuul, possessing the high I.Q. of all Fregisian fauna, peered cautiously between the digits of one of its pads so as not to run into anything. Watching, Murie slipped a hand into mine and pressed her head to my shoulder. She was usually not demonstrative. Other than our pre-nuptial "carryings on," I'd have thought her cold. Now, as I responded to this small advance, I saw two tears upon her cheeks, while her blue-purple eyes stared up at me, deliberately, and with a piquant sadness. By the gods, I thought, she's at it again; though she loved me she'd ever be queen to my role of consort-in waiting...- In effect, she'd "control me" one way or the other. I grinned, squeezed her small hand in turn and winked at her. Among the many bits of wisdom that I, Kyrie Fern, will bequeath to posterity is the solidly researched fact that the female of the humanoid species, in transit from barbarism to what is preciously known as civilization, invariably attempts at one time or another in a relationship to make an utter ass, dubot, or flimpl, of the male of the species-even her beloved, or rather, especially her beloved; at the least she is at all times most willing to use her person to her advantage. I'd call it instinctive retribution for male-inflicted wrongs across [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |