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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 ]
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