"The performers are very skillful. I am not a good judge of such things."
"Why are you so distant? You have hardly spoken for days."
"You must forgive me; I find the effort of ruling Scharrode no easy matter."
"When you traveled off-planet, you must have known many interesting events."
"True."
"Are the folk of the outer worlds as gluttonous and sebal as we tend to believe?"
"Their habits certainty are different from those of the Realms."
"And how did you regard these folk? Were you appalled?"
"I was in no condition to worry about anything but my own troubles."
"Ah! Cannot you answer me without evasion?"
"In all honesty, I fear that my casual remarks, should they be reported to your mother, might well be distorted and used to discredit me."
Sthelany sat back. For several moments she watched the ballet, which now had reached a climax with the entry of the two legendary champions Hys and Zan-Immariot.
Sthelany again turned to Efraim. "You misjudge me. I do not tell everything to Singhalissa. Do you think that I do not feel stifled at Benbuphar Strang? I yearn for new experience! Perhaps you will think ill of me for my candor, but sometimes I constrain myself to prevent outbursts of emotion. Singhalissa glorifies rigid convention; I often feel that convention must apply to others but not me. Why should folk not decorously sip wine together as they do in Port Mar? You need not look at me with such wonder; I will show you that I too can transcend convention!"
"Such occasions might well relieve the tedium. However, Singhalissa would surely disapprove."
Sthelany smiled. "Need Singhalissa know everything?"
"Very definitely not. Still she is an expert both at conducting intrigues and at sniffing them out."
"We shall see." Sthelany gave a breathless little laugh and sat back in her chair. On the stage Hys and Zan-Immariot had fought to mutual exhaustion. The lights dimmed; the instrumental tones descended in pitch and tempo, then became silent, save for a thrilling resonance of softly rubbed gongs. "Mirk!" whispered Sthelany.
Out upon the stage bounded three figures in costumes of black horn and lacquered beetle-back, wearing demon-masks.
Sthelany leaned closer to Efraim. "The three avatars of Kro: Maiesse, Goun, and Sciaffrod. Notice how the champions strive! Ah! they are slain. The demons dance in triumph!" Sthelany turned toward Efraim; her shoulder touched his. "How it must be on the one-sun worlds where day and mirk alternate!"
Efraim glanced sidewise. Sthelany's face was close; her eyes shone in the stage glow. Efraim said: "Your mother looks this way. Peculiar! She seems neither surprised nor annoyed that we talk in an intimate manner."
Sthelany stiffened and leaning forward watched the demons stamping the corpses of the dead heroes into the dust, throwing their heads low, tossing. them high, plunging arms low, thrusting them high.
Later, as the four guests took their leave, Efraim had a moment to pay his respects to Maerio. She said, somewhat wistfully, "I did not appreciate that you had become friendly with Sthelany. She is most fascinating."
Efraim managed a painful grin, "Appearances can be deceiving. Can you, will you, be discreet?"
"Of course."
"I believe that Singhalissa instructed Sthelany to pretend intimacy, to beguile me into a foolish act whereby she might discredit me with the Scharde eiodarks.
In fact - "
Maerio asked breathlessly, "In fact, what?"
Efraim found that he could not express himself both with precision and delicacy,
"I will tell you some other time. But it is you, not Sthelany, whom I find fascinating."
Maerio's eyes suddenly glistened. "Good-by, Efraim."
As Efraim turned away he surprised Sthelany's gaze upon him, and it seemed that he saw there a hurt, wild, desperate expression. This was the same face, Efraim reminded himself, that had indifferently considered the workings of a toy puzzle while two men with mace, dagger, and sack waited by the door.
Efraim went to make his formal farewell to the Kaiark Rianlle. "Your hospitality is on a most magnificent scale. We could not think to duplicate it at Benbuphar Strang. Still, I am hoping that before long you will return our visit, in company with the Kraike and the Lissolet."
Rianlle's face showed no geniality. He said: "I accept the invitation, for myself and for the Kraike and Lissolet as well. Will you think me presumptuous if I set the occasion for three days hence? You will have had opportunity to search for the legendary covenant, and also to consult your eiodarks and to convince them that the accord between Kaiark Jochaim and myself must without fail be implemented."
Words pressed against Efraim's lips; he contained them with an effort.
"I will consult my eiodarks," he said at last. "We will reach a decision which may or may not please you, but which will be based upon how we regard our duty.
In any event we shall look forward to entertaining you at Benbuphar Strang at the time you suggest."
1. The Rhunes produce no true music and are incapable of thinking in musical terms. Their fanfares and clamors are controlled by mathematical progressions, and must achieve a mathematical symmetry. The exercise is intellectual rather than emotional.
Chapter 12
On their return to Benbuphar Strang the portals were thrown wide by footmen strange to Efraim.
Singhalissa stopped short. "Who are these people? Where is our old staff?"
"I have replaced them," said Efraim. "All except Agnois, whom you will still find in office."
Singhalissa turned him a curious glance. "Must all our arrangements be disrupted? Why have you done this?"
Efraim spoke in his most formal voice. "I wish to live among people who have no prior loyalties and on whom I can place reliance. I took steps to achieve this by the only possible means: a complete change."
"My life daily grows more hectic," cried Singhalissa. "I wonder where this turmoil will end! Do you also plan to take us to war for a miserable fragment of hillside?"
"I would like to know why Rianlle is so exercised over this 'miserable fragment of hillside.' Do you know?"
"I am not in the Kaiark Rianlle's confidence."
A footman approached. "Your Force, the Baron Erthe is at hand."
"Please introduce him."
The Baron Erthe came forward. He looked from Efraim to Singhalissa and back to Efraim. "Your Force, I have a report to render."
"Speak."
"In a rubbish heap near Howar Forest we discovered a corpse in a black sack. It has been identified as the remains of Matho Lorcas."
Efraim's stomach quivered. He looked at Singhalissa, who showed no emotion. But for a soft metallic scrape behind the door he would have been the corpse in the black sack, rather than Matho Lorcas.
"Bring the corpse to the terrace."
"Very well, Your Force."
Singhalissa said softly, "Why do you do that?"
"Can't you guess?"
Singhalissa turned slowly away. Efraim summoned Agnois. "Place a trestle or a bench on the terrace."
Agnois allowed an expression of puzzlement to cross his features. "At once, Your Force."
Four men carried a coffin across the terrace, and set it down upon the trestle.
Efraim took a breath and lifted the lid. For a moment he looked down into the dead face, then he turned to Agnois. "Bring the mace."