"Then we have another enemy to watch out for."
"You are too suspicious—"
"And now, gentlemen," said the king, "we shall return to our humble home. Doctor Karadur and Master Jorian, it is our pleasure that you take lunch with us this noon."
On the way from the tower to the palace, Jorian and Karadur passed through a huge gate in the wall surrounding the palace grounds. From the top of the gate rose a row of iron spikes, one of which bore a human head.
"The Gate of Happiness," said Karadur.
"That wight up yonder doesn't look very happy," said Jorian, indicating the head.
"Oh, this is the traditional place where heads of malefactors are exhibited."
"A curious conceit, to attach such a name to such a place."
"You utter verities, my son. The present monarch, howsomever, is mild and merciful, so that there is seldom more than one head on exhibition at a time. The conservatives grumble that such lenity encourages evildoers."
In the palace, the gentleman litter-bearers were dismissed by the king. Jorian and Karadur were conducted to a private dining room, where they ate with the king, alone but for a pair of guardsmen standing in the corners, a secretary who scribbled notes, and the king's food taster.
After amenities, Jorian brought up his brush with the pirates of Algarth on his voyage south. "From what I hear," he said, "they wax ever more aggressive along these coasts. I daresay Your Majesty knows what actions to take against them."
Looking unhappy, King Ishbahar spoke to the secretary: "Remind me to pass the word to Admiral Kyar, O Herekit." Then to Jorian: "Ah, that we could persuade these rogues to earn honest livings, like other men! Do you know that the ungrateful knaves have had the insolence to demand an increase in our annual largesse?"
"Means Your Majesty that you pay them trib—unh!" Jorian broke off as Karadur kicked his shin beneath the table. "I mean—ah—that your government subsidizes these gentry?"
"One might put it thus. One might. I know there is an argument for a hard policy; we have gone over it many a time and oft in council meetings. But our great philosopher Rebbim held that such men should not be blamed for their acts. The Algarthian Archipelago is a congeries of barren, sea-beaten rocks, where little food can be raised. The folk of that grim land must, therefore, resort to piracy or face starvation. So a subsidy, in return for immunity to our ships, seemed but a humane and benevolent act.
"Besides which, the subsidy was at first but a fraction of the cost of putting our navy on a war footing. Know you that the stroke man of a bench of rowers now gets three coppers a day? Some people are never satisfied." The king shook his head, his jowls wobbling. "But let us to a pleasanter subject. Do try this rhinoceros liver with sauce of lamprey's brains. You will swear that you have tasted nought like it, heh hen."
Jorian tried it. "Your Majesty is right," he said, swallowing manfully. "Your servant has never tasted aught like it. But, whilst Your Majesty's wish is my command, I have come to point where I can still chew but not swallow. I am full."
"Oh, come! A big, lusty swain like you? What you have eaten would not keep a bird alive. Not a bird."
"That depends upon the kind of bird, sire. I have already eaten thrice my usual lunch. Is like story of King Fusinian and the Teeth of Grimnor, which I told you."
The king's jowls quivered with laughter. "Ah, Master Jorian! Would that, had the gods permitted us children, we had a son like you!"
Startled, Jorian looked up. "Your Majesty's flattery overwhelms me. But…" he raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Karadur said: "Master Jorian is new to Iraz, sire, and he has been working night and day on the clocks. He is therefore unfamiliar with your dynastic situation."
"Our dynastic situation, as the learned doctor delicately puts it, is simple. We have had several wives, of whom two survive; but with all of these available females, we have begotten but one child, who died in infancy. So now we face the prospect of passing our crown on to one of a pair of worthless nephews.
"But let us speak of more cheerful things. In three days comes the feast of Ughroluk, with the major races of the year. You two learned gentlemen shall occupy reserved seats in the Hippodrome, directly below the royal box. You will be safer there in case the factionists make a disturbance."
The king sighed as he looked at the still heaped plates before him. "Would we could spend the afternoon enjoying the harmless delights of the palate and interfering with none. But, alas, we must depart for our nap, after which we have a tedious matter of a lawsuit to decide. Ah, the rues of royalty!
"Know, Master Jorian, that in our youth we were deemed a bit of a scholar. In the libraries, you will still find our treatise on the pronunciation of Penembic in the days of Juktar the Great. But all that, alas, is far behind us. For the past year, we have endeavored to write our memoirs, but so implacably does public business nibble at our time that we have not yet reached the third chapter."
"I can sympathize," said Jorian. "I, too, have sometimes wished that I could have been a scholar, as Doctor Karadur is, in sooth. I did once study briefly at the Academy of Othomae; but the exigencies and contingencies of life have never let me abide in any one place long enough to get my teeth into a program of serious study."
"Now that you are living amongst us," said the king, "we are sure that this difficulty can be overcome. And now we must away once more. Fare you well, our friends."
Later, Jorian said: "He seems like an amiable old duck."
"Amiable, yes," said Karadur. "But he neglects public business to pamper his stomach, and he has no more spine than a bowlful of jelly. From a strictly moral point of view, I applaud his pacific outlook; but I fear it is impractical in this wicked world."
Jorian grinned. "You're the one who was always twitting me on my juvenile cynicism, as you called it, and now 'tis you who voice acerb views."
"I have probably caught some of your acrimonious outlook, like a contagious tisic. So long as the kingdom ride on an even keel, King Ishbahar may do well enough. But if a crisis arise—well, we shall see."
"Is this fellow Mazsan likely to overthrow him? So feeble a rule impresses me not as perdurable."
"Mazsan has dwelt in Novaria and returned full of lofty ideas for setting up a republic on the lines of Vindium. His following is formidable, since oppression and corruption are rife amongst Ishbahar's officials. Let us hope Mazsan never succeeds."
"Why so? The Vindines seem to do as well as the folk of any of the Twelve Cities, and things do not look good to me here."
"It is not Mazsan's ideas, which are not bad as such things go; it is the man himself. I know him. He is brilliant, energetic, and idealistic— but a hater, boiling with rancor and ferity. He has boasted that, when he attains power, there shall be displayed at the Gate of Happiness not one head but a thousand. There is a tale that he would even summon the wild nomads of Fedirun to help him to his goal."
" Tis too bad that we cannot somehow sunder the man from his ideas," said Jorian.
"Aye; but that is the rock whereon many noble political schemes have gone to wrack. Mazsan could proclaim the world's most enlightened constitution, but that would do the Irazis no good when he began decapitating them by the hundred, as he would the instant he had power."
"So then," said Jorian, "the choice between that kindly mass of wobbling royal jelly and the gifted but bloodthirsty Master Mazsan is like the choice between being hanged and beheaded."
"True, but that is the way of the world."
Chapter Five
THE TUNNEL OF HOSHCHA