The Seneschal, however overworked he already was, always looked pained when the King used that particular little speech, but he said nothing.
Perhaps there isn't a great deal that he can do, T'fyrr thought. The Seneschal's chain was the least gaudy of all of the chains of office_perhaps that meant that, among the Advisors, he had the least power.
The rest of the Advisors however were not so reluctant to voice their opinions_which were universally positive. They actually congratulated the High King every time he dismissed a petition or passed it on to the Seneschal.
They were particularly effusive when he trotted out that little speech.
"A fine decision, Your Majesty," someone would say. Another would add, as predictably as rhyming "death" with "breath," "It is in the interest of your land and people that they see you delegate your authority, so that when you are truly needed, you will be free to grant a problem your full attention." And a third would pipe up with, "You must be firm with these people, otherwise every dirt-farming peasant who resents paying tax and tithe to his overlord and the Church win come whining to you for redress of his so-called wrongs."
And the High King smiled, and nodded, and suppressed another yawn.
T'fyrr flexed his talons silently, easing the tension in his feet by clamping them into fists until they trembled. How in the world did Harperus think he could help with this situation? The King was getting all of this bad advice from high-ranking humans who were probably very dangerous and hazardous to cross!
Memories of fetters weighing him down made him shiver with chill in that overly warm room. Hazardous to cross....
But before he could say anything to Harperus, the Presiding Herald announced their names, and it was too late to stop the Deliambren from carrying out his plan.
"My Lord Harperus jin Lothir, Ambassador-at-large from the Deliambrens, and T'fyrr Redwing, envoy of the Haspur_"
A tiny portion of T'fyrr's mind noted the rich tones of the humans voice with admiration; the rest of him was engaged in trying to watch the reactions of anyone of any importance to the announcement.
The King's face lit up the moment Harperus stepped forward; as the Deliambren launched into a flowery speech lauding the greatness of King Theovere, and the vast impact of the High King's reputation across the face of Alanda, the Advisors waited and watched like an unkindness of ravens waiting for something to die. They didn't know what Harperus was up to_if, indeed, he was up to anything. That bothered them, but what clearly bothered them more was the fact that for the first time Theovere was showing some interest and no boredom.
Theovere might not be the man he once was, but he still knows where the "marvels" come from.
Now T'fyrr wondered if the trouble was with the King's age; there was a certain illness of the aged where one regressed into childhood. Theovere certainly betrayed some symptoms of childishness....
T'fyrr followed the speech; he knew it by heart, and his cue was just coming up. Without pausing or skipping a beat, Harperus went from the speech to T'fyrr's introduction.
"_and I bring before you one who has heard of your generous patronage of the art of music, the envoy of goodwill from the Haspur of the Skytouching Mountains where no human of the Twenty Kingdoms has ever ventured, here to entertain you and your Court."
Harperus stepped back, and T'fyrr quickly stepped forward. One of the Advisors opened his mouth as if to protest; T'fyrr didn't give him a chance to actually say something.
He had already filled his lungs while he waited for his cue, and now he burst into full-chested song.
Although the Haspur had their own musical styles, they also had the ability to mimic anything so exactly that only another Haspur could tell the mimicry from the genuine sound. T'fyrr had chosen that lovely human duet to repeat_it was ideally suited to his voice, since it was antiphonal, and he could simulate the under- and overtones of an instrumental accompaniment with a minimum of concentration. He did improve on the original recording, however. While Master Wren was a golden tenor, Lady Larks lovely contralto was not going to impress an audience this sophisticated_so T'fyrr transposed the female reply up into the coloratura range and added the appropriate trills, glissandos and flourishes.
The King sat perfectly still, his eyes actually bulging a little in a way that T'fyrr found personally flattering, though rather unattractive. With his superior peripheral vision, he could keep track of those courtiers nearest him, as well, and many of them were positively slack-jawed with amazement.
His hopes and his spirits began to rise at that point. Perhaps he was impressive to this jaded audience! Perhaps he would be able to accomplish something here!
The instant that he finished, the staid, etiquette-bound courtiers of High King Theovere broke into wild and completely spontaneous applause.
But the Advisors applauded only politely, their eyes narrowed in a way that T'fyrr did not at all like. They resembled ravens again; this time sizing up the opportunity to snatch a bite.
"So," Harperus muttered under his breath, as T'fyrr took a modest bow or two, "now do you think I'm crazy?"
"I know you are crazy," the Haspur replied in a similarly soft voice, "but you are also clever. That is a bad combination for your enemies."
The Deliambren only chuckled.
Ah, T'fyrr thought with resignation, perched uncomfortably upon the tall stool that had been brought for him. I do enjoy being talked about as if I was not present.
This was not the first time he had found himself in that position. At least, in this case, the discussion concerned his life and prosperity, not his imminent and painful death.
And at least this time he was seated, and on a relatively appropriate stool_in deference to his wings and tail_rather than standing in an iron cage, fettered at every limb.
Harperus was not part of this discussion, this Council session; the Deliambren had not been invited. This was probably more of an oversight than a deliberate insult, since the subject of this meeting was T'fyrr and not Harperus. T'fyrr wished profoundly for his company, though; as the only nonhuman, as well as the object of discussion, he was alternately being ignored and glared at. It would have been less uncomfortable if Harperus had been there to share the "experience."
By the standards of the Palace so far, this was a modest room, paneled in carved wood, with wooden floors and boasting Deliambren lighting. The Council members, all of the King's Advisors, sat at a rectangular marble-topped table with the King at the head and T'fyrr at the foot. They had carved wooden chairs that could have doubled as thrones in many kingdoms; the King had a simpler wooden replica of the monstrosity in the room in which he held Court, gilded as well as carved. Behind the King stood a circle of four silent bodyguards in scarlet and black livery, armed to the teeth, in enameled helms and breastplates, as blank-faced as any Elf.
If they projected the fact that they are dangerous any harder, there would be little puddles of "danger" on the floor around them. Look, it's "danger," don't step in it!