‘Very good, your Majesty,’ the aide confirmed, scribbling a note.
All variant breeds of horses, sheep, goats and the like were consequently hurried by. But Melyobar’s definition of a useful animal was by no means consistent.
‘Are all dogs to be considered acceptable, Majesty?’ the aide wondered, as a yapping, barking horde approached.
‘Yes.
No.
I don’t like those.’ He pointed to pairs of bulldogs and pugs, which were promptly hived-off. ‘Ugly brutes.’
Cats he said yes to, as he was fond of them. But he saw no benefit in accepting mice or rats. Frogs, too, were vetoed.
He had no doubt that those who served him burned with curiosity about the menagerie he was gathering. But of course none dared question him on it. Besides, it was none of their business.
‘What’s that?’ the Prince demanded of a soldier carrying a straw-lined box. The man showed it to him. Two tortoises dozed inside. ‘I’m not sure these things serve much purpose,’ Melyobar remarked.
The soldier looked to the aide. ‘That’s a no,’ the aide mouthed at him. The tortoises were taken to the reject line.
A stag and a deer went past. Then a variety of fowl were shown. Melyobar was keen on the eagles and hawks, and a diversity of songbirds were admitted. A cockerel and a hen were let in, naturally, but the Prince dithered over the owls. Eventually he nodded, but was firm about partridges, which he thought ungainly. Swans and geese went through. There was some doubt about ducks, until he was reminded that they provided eggs, as did quail. Pigeons and doves passed the test.
A batch of exotics from far-flung lands appeared, causing no little excitement. Two tigers, well manacled and with three handlers apiece, were paraded.
‘Excellent for sport,’ Melyobar declared.
He was no less enthusiastic about a lion and lioness. When a pair of crocodiles slithered into view, however, he was less eager. ‘Can’t see how you could do much more than club them to death. Not much sport in that.’
‘Quite so, Majesty.’ The aide waved the crocodiles aside, and wrote himself a memo concerning alligators.
The coming of the elephants was an awesome sight. Their
legs were shackled in robust iron, and each had a skilled rider on its neck. None of that mitigated their sheer size, and the Prince cricked his neck staring up at them.
‘Extraordinary,’ he allowed. ‘But have they a use?’
‘Indeed, sire. As beasts of burden they’re unsurpassed. And it is said their appearance on a field of battle has a most salutary effect.’
He was convinced.
The camels made him laugh, and they were admitted on that basis. He was baffled by a couple of giant, slow-moving lizards, green-scaled, with flicking tongues.
‘If I wanted grotesques,’ he decided, ‘I could have glamours conjured.’
The lizards were taken way.
Snakes he likewise forsook, but was persuaded to relent in the case of several species whose venom, his head apothecary explained, had healing properties.
He kept the monkeys, which he found amusing, and likewise two saucy parrots. Insects he universally refused, seeing this as an opportunity to be rid of them. Though he did hesitate when a pair of exquisitely marked butterflies were produced. They fluttered in a charm-warmed glass container to preserve them from the autumn chill.
‘Such creatures are problematic, Majesty,’ his aide said.
‘They are?’
‘Insects require other insects on which to feed. I don’t believe it’s possible to be selective about them, Majesty.’
‘What about the birds? They eat insects, don’t they?’
‘Ah. You’re absolutely right, of course, sir; some do.’ He wrote himself yet another note. ‘I’ll look into that.’
‘Yes to rabbits,’ Melyobar announced as they were carted on in a wooden hutch. ‘But definitely no more than two, mind!’
Moles he thought useless for all but irksome tunnelling. But badgers were let aboard, as were the brown bears. Baiting
was one of his favourite pastimes, and he had to think of future leisure.
Then they began toting barrels and tubs of fish to him. Most he agreed to, but he turned away those he didn’t like the look of. So pike, eels and catfish found no home. Crabs and lobsters he wanted because he relished their taste.
He glanced at the seemingly endless line of animals and their handlers making their way up the gangplank. And now a line of rejects was working its way down on the other side. In the confusion it was hard to keep predators and prey apart, and there was a deal of snapping, slashing and biting. The noise and smell was growing intense. A clean-up crew had its work cut out shovelling away droppings.
‘Are there many more?’ the Prince asked.
‘We’ve barely begun. You did order two of everything, Majesty.’
Hunting parties were scouring the land for mating pairs. He had agents purchasing specimens from zoos and private collections, and bartering with merchants as they returned from foreign climes.
His father’s instructions had been quite explicit. Animals were to be acquired two by two, to serve the Prince’s needs in a world in which there was no death. Or, indeed, many other human beings. Melyobar determined to marshal his stamina and see it through, for the sake of the plan. And for his salvation.
An unseemly honking and a fleshy slapping sound broke his reverie. A walrus waddled over for its audience, its mate close behind. Attendants walked ahead of them, holding out fish to keep them moving, while others doused them with buckets of water.
The walrus turned its whiskery face up to the Prince and they locked gazes.
He thought its eyes were very sad.
19
It was the morning of Kinsel Rukanis’ trial.
Under the circumstances, Caldason thought it odd that Karr should have chosen this day to invite him to share a secret. He wouldn’t be drawn on what it was, and made Reeth swear not to mention it to anyone, without exception. But in the carriage, on their way to a destination Karr wouldn’t reveal, he took the opportunity to castigate the Qalochian.
‘I have to tell you I’m not happy about the brawl you and Serrah got into. With the meld.’
‘We didn’t have too much choice.’
‘Yes, you did. As I understand it, you went looking for trouble.’
‘Then you understand it wrong, Karr. We weren’t looking for the meld.’
‘No, you were carrying out some half-baked little scheme of your own, you and Serrah. Spying on the paladins, of all damn things, without even telling us, let alone asking permission.’
‘Permission?’ Caldason smouldered.
‘I know authority’s not something you take to very well,
Reeth;
any
kind of authority. But when you’ve thrown your lot in with the Resistance you have to accept some measure of discipline.’
‘It was a spur of the moment thing, I admit that. But we just wanted to do something about Kinsel.’
‘We all do, Reeth. But you and Serrah have no monopoly on compassion; Kinsel’s a friend of mine too, and I’ve known him a lot longer. Do you think I find it easy having to sit back while he’s put through the mill?’
‘No, Karr, I don’t.’
‘We don’t need unnecessary attention at the best of times, and certainly not now, with the move looming.’ He was looking tense and flushed.
‘All right,’ Reeth conceded. ‘Message received. Now take it easy, Karr. Don’t get worked up about it. You look ill.’
‘Why does everybody keep worrying about my health?’ the patrician came back heatedly.
‘Because
you
don’t. You’re pushing yourself too hard, man.’
‘I’ve little choice with everything that’s going on at the moment.’
‘There’s always a lot going on. Delegate.’
Karr didn’t answer. He stared out of the carriage’s half-blinded window. It was a crisp autumn day, chill but pleasantly sunny. There were plenty of people about, and road traffic was building up.