The thought of his own background reminded Toller of the astonishing fact that he was now in the army, and the realisation struck him with as much or more force than Leddravohr’s original pronouncement. It was ironic that the ambition he had cherished for much of his life should have been achieved in such a bizarre fashion and just at a time when he was beginning to put such ideas behind him. What was going to happen to him after he reported to the Mithold Barracks in the morning? It was disconcerting to find that he had no coherent vision of his future, that beyond the coming night the pattern broke up into shards… bitty reflections… Leddravohr… the army… Chamteth… the migration flight…Overland…the unknown swirling into the unknown.…
A gentle snore from behind him told Toller that Glo had gone to sleep. He left it to Fera to ensure that Glo was comfortable and continued staring through the window. The enveloping ptertha screens interfered with the view of Overland, but he could see the progression of the terminator across the great disk. When it reached the halfway mark, dividing the sister world into hemispheres of equal size but unequal brightness, the sun would be on the horizon.
A short time before that point was reached Prince Chakkell emerged from the lengthy conference and departed for his residence in the Tannoffern Palace, which lay to the east of the Great Palace. Now that the main streets of Ro-Atabri were virtually tunnels it would have been possible for him to stay longer in the Square House, but Chakkell was known for his devotion to his wife and children. After he and his retinue had left there was complete silence in the precinct, a reminder that Leddravohr had come to the meeting unaccompanied. The military prince was noted for travelling everywhere alone — partly, it was said, because of his impatience with attendants, but mainly because he scorned the use of guards. He was confident in his belief that his reputation and his own battle sword were all the protection he needed in any city of the empire.
Toller had hoped that Leddravohr would leave soon after Chakkell, but hour after hour went by with no sign of the discussion coming to an end. It appeared that Leddravohr was determined to absorb as much aeronautical knowledge as was possible in a very short time.
The weight-driven glasswood clock on the wall was showing the hour of ten when a servant arrived with platters of simple food, mainly fishcakes and bread. There was also a note of apology from Gesalla, who was too ill to perform the normal duties of hostess. Fera had been waiting for a substantial spread and was theatrically shocked when Glo explained that no formal meal could be served unless Leddravohr chose to go to table. She ate most of what was available single-handed, then dropped into a chair in a corner and pretended to sleep. Glo alternated between trying to read in the unsatisfactory light from the sconces and staring grimly into the distance. Toller received the impression that his self-esteem had been irreparably damaged by Leddravohr’s casual cruelty.
It was almost the eleventh hour when Lain walked into the room. He said, “Please return to the hall, my lord.”
Glo raised his head with a start. “So the prince has finally decided to leave.”
“No.” Lain seemed slightly bewildered. “I think the prince is going to do me the honour of staying the night in my home. We must present ourselves now. You and your wife as well, Toller.”
Toller was at a loss to explain Leddravohr’s unusual decision as he raised Glo to his feet and helped him to leave the room. In normal times and circumstances it would indeed have been a great honour for a royal to sleep in the Square House, especially as the palaces were within easy reach, but Leddravohr hardly wanted to be gracious. Gesalla was already waiting near the foot of the stair, holding herself tall and straight in spite of her obvious weakness. The others formed a line with her — Glo at the centre, flanked by Lain and Toller — and waited for Leddravohr to appear.
There was a delay of several minutes before the military prince came to the head of the stair. He was eating the leg of a roast quickfowl, and added to the discourtesy by continuing to gnaw at the bone in silence until it was stripped of all flesh. Toller began to get sombre premonitions. Leddravohr threw the bone to the floor, wiped his lips with the back of a hand and slowly came down the stairs. He was still wearing his sword — another incivility — and his smooth face showed no sign of tiredness.
“Well, Lord Glo, it appears I have needlessly kept you here all day.” Leddravohr’s tone made it clear that he was not apologising. “I have learned most of what I need to know and will be able to finish here in the morning. Many other matters demand my attention, so to avoid wasting time in travelling back and forth to the palace I will sleep here tonight. You will be in attendance at the sixth hour. I take it you can bestir yourself by that time?”
“I shall be here at the sixth hour, Prince,” Glo said.
“That is good to know,” Leddravohr replied, jovially sarcastic. He strolled along the line, paused when he reached Toller and Fera, and produced the instantaneous smile which had nothing to do with humour. Toller faced him as woodenly as possible, his foreboding turning into a certainty that a day which had begun badly was going to end badly. Leddravohr turned off his smile, walked back to the stair and began to ascend. Toller was beginning to wonder if his premonitions could have been groundless when Leddravohr halted on the third step.
“What is this?” he mused, keeping his back to the attentive group. “My brain is weary, and yet my body craves activity. There is a decision to be made here — shall I have a woman, or shall I not?”
Toller, already knowing the answer to Leddravohr’s rhetorical question, brought his mouth close to Fera’s ear. “This is my fault,” he whispered. “Leddravohr hates better than I knew. He wants to use you as a weapon against me, and there is nothing we can do about it. You’ll just have to go with him.”
“We’ll see,” Fera said, her composure unaffected.
Leddravohr drummed his fingers on the balustrade, prolonging the moment, then turned to face the hall. “You,” he said, pointing at Gesalla. “Come with me.”
“But…!” Toller took one step forward, breaking the line, his body a pounding column of blood. He gazed in helpless outrage at Gesalla as she touched Lain’s hand and walked towards the stair with a strange floating movement as though tranced and not really aware of what was happening. Her beautiful face was almost luminescent in its pallor. Leddravohr went ahead of her and the two were lost in the flickering dimness of the upper floor.
Toller wheeled on his brother. “That’s your wife — and she’s pregnant!”
“Thank you for that information,” Lain said in a dead voice, regarding Lain with dead eyes.
“But this is all wrong!”
“It’s the Kolcorronian way.” Incredibly, Lain was able to fashion his lips into a smile. “It is part of the reason we are despised by every other nation in the world.”