“That's the Realm of the Chosen of the Holy Ghost,” John said. “They're big and rich, all right, with a good location-protected on two sides but open to the western plain-but I don't think you'll be able to trade with them."
“Why not?"
“Because it's ruled by a man called the Anointed of God who doesn't trust Earthers. I tried to get him to invite you here, but he threw me out, and I wound up in Savior's Grace instead."
“Oh.” Blessing looked at the map. “It's too good to pass up, though. We'll have to offer this Anointed of God a deal he can't refuse. Either that, or depose him somehow.” He gazed thoughtfully at the map.
John, too, stared at it. Depose the Anointed? These Earthers might be merchants, not killers, but they had possibilities after all. Blessing was a pervert, by Godsworld standards, corrupting his own flesh with steel, but he had drive and intelligence; he was not wholly decadent, not a simple thrill-seeker like Tuesday Ikeya.
John wondered for a moment whether his rewiring included an empathy spike, but thrust the question aside as irrelevant.
This campaign, he thought, was going to be interesting. “How would you do that?” he asked.
“Oh, there are ways-but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Why doesn't this Anointed person like Terrans? I mean, Earthers?"
John described his last meeting with the Anointed, and told the story of Stephen Christ-is-Risen as he understood it.
Blessing frowned as he listened; when John had finished he thought silently for a moment. “This Stephen Christ-is-Risen,” he asked finally, “do you think Bechtel-Rand really sent him off-planet?"
John floundered for a moment, then looked at Kwam?.
“I think they did,” Kwam? said.
“Then I don't think we need to worry about protests to the CRA if we depose the Anointed,” Blessing said, “though I still hope it won't come to that. We can make anything we do to the Anointed look like what they did to Christ-is-Risen. I like that.” He paused. “It shouldn't be necessary, though. John, you've talked with this person, so I'll be sending you along, but you won't be speaking on our behalf-if anyone asks you're just along as a guide. I know just the person to send to talk to this Anointed.” He smiled, and one of his three floaters did a slow roll in mid-air.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“And the maiden pleased him, and she obtained kindness of him… "-Esther 2:9
The woman let out another little startled yip, and again John glanced sideways at her in disbelief. Even riding astride at a slow walk she was obviously having trouble staying in the saddle. John knew perfectly well that horses were extinct back on Earth-or nearly so, anyway-but he had not realized anyone, even a woman who had never seen a horse before, could have quite so much trouble riding one.
This woman, however, was doing just that. Three times now the entire expedition-John, the woman, and an escort of four of the Free People and two ITD employees-had come to a halt while John adjusted her saddle and boosted her up until she was reasonably steady once more. The stirrups had been shortened almost as far as they would go, the cinch-strap pulled so tight the horse was visibly uncomfortable; fortunately, the beast found for her was so placid it made no protest, but merely walked all the more slowly and gingerly.
John had great difficulty in believing that this tiny, frail, clumsy woman was Premosila Kim, the incredible salesperson that Gamaliel Blessing had been so proud of. She was less than five feet tall-a meter and a half, she said-by far the shortest Earther John had yet encountered, with black curling hair and big dark eyes, but flat-chested and scrawny. She did, he had to admit, have a delightful smile-she had used it on him when they were introduced-but it would take more than a smile to win over the Anointed.
She gasped suddenly as she slipped sideways; she caught herself with both hands grabbing the pommel, but her riding skirt fell away.
After spending as much time as he had among Earthers John was no longer shocked or intrigued by the sight of a woman's legs, particularly legs as thin as these; he simply reined in his mount, slid to the ground, and walked back to recover the skirt. It would not do to let her be seen bare-legged by any of the Chosen.
Two of the men from Savior's Grace were staring, while the other two averted their eyes; John shook his head in disgust. Their reactions would be different a year from now, he told himself, when the Earthers had been around their village for awhile. The other two ITD people were not staring, but simply watching calmly and casually-but then, one of them was a woman herself. The other claimed to be from someplace called Groombridgiana, which he insisted was not on Earth at all, and for all John knew the women in Groombridgiana ran around stark naked.
He threw the skirt across the horse's back behind her, and stood by as she tugged it into place again.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him for the second time.
He smiled back without meaning to, then remounted and spurred his horse forward again. A pretty smile would not be enough to win over the Anointed-but it might help.
That was the last time she slipped; somehow she seemed to suddenly get the hang of riding after that, and by the time they reached the border of the Chosen Empire the party was moving at a decent pace and able to converse with one another.
John knew that long before they reached Spiritus Sancti, word of their coming would reach the army and an escort would meet them; that meant that this was his last opportunity to talk with Kim where there was no chance of being overheard by unfriendly ears. He had held his peace through all the long ride through the hills and while they wandered along the Upper New Jordan searching for a ford, but he could resist no longer.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her at a moment when they happened to be out of easy earshot of the others.
“Do what?” She looked honestly puzzled.
“Talk to the Anointed. He hates Earthers; it's entirely possible he'll have you imprisoned or even killed."
“Oh, I don't think he'll do that."
“I'll do the talking, if you like."
“No, no; it's my job."
“But it's dangerous!"
“Captain, it's my job. I don't think you understand."
John was getting tired of being told that he didn't understand things, but he knew that it had usually been true when one of the Earthers had said that. “Oh?” he replied.
“Be honest, now; you've negotiated with this person three times so far. Have you ever gotten what you wanted?"
John had to admit that he had not gotten the alliance he had asked for, nor permission to land the ITD ship on the Anointed's land, but he insisted, “I got my guerrillas!"
“Yes, given grudgingly and undersupplied, and taken back again later!"
John had no answer to that.
“Besides, how can you speak for ITD, when he knows you as a True Worder? He won't really accept what you say. I know you work for ITD and hold a responsible position, but he won't believe it. He thinks of you as a Godsworlder and ITD as Earther, and if he's as rigid in his thinking as you've led me to believe he won't accept any crossovers."
“Not me, then, but you need a strong negotiator, someone he'll respect…"
“No, you don't. You're thinking in military terms again, Captain, where the object is to scare your enemy. We're not an army. We want to look just as harmless and weak as we can, don't you see that? We want him to believe that he has nothing to fear from us, that he can allow us the free run of his whole empire without worrying about his own security. And if he's like other primitives-forgive me, Captain, but that's what Godsworlders seem to us-then he'll equate physical size with power. If he sees me as the representative of ITD-as their spokesman and as their symbol both-then he'll think he's safe, that we're weak and harmless. He'll agree to terms that he would not risk granting to a big strong male like yourself."