And he murmured of his fears that he was losing his power, his prestige (though he knew he should not speak such secret thoughts to Flana of all women) and that the King Emperor was these days trusting others, such as Shenegar Trott, with the knowledge that he once only gave to Meliadus.
"Oh, Flana," he said, shortly before he fell into a moody sleep, "if you were Queen, together we could fulfill our Empire's mightiest destiny."
But Flana scarcely heard him, was scarcely thinking, merely lay there and moved her heavy body from time to time, for Meliadus had failed to ease the aching in her soul, had barely eased the craving in her loins and her mind was on the emissaries who lay sleeping only two tiers above her head.
At length she rose from the bed, leaving Meliadus snoring and moaning in his sleep, and dressed herself again in gown and mask, and slipped from her room to glide along the corridors, up the ramps, until she came at last to the doors that were guarded by the Mantis warriors. The insect masks turned questioningly.
"You know who I am," said she.
They did know and they withdrew from the doors.
She chose one and pressed it open, entering the exciting darkness of the emissaries' apartments. ft
Chapter Twelve
A REVELATION
MOONLIGHT ALONE ILLUMINATED the room, falling on a bed in which a figure stirred, showing her the discarded ornaments, armor and mask of the man who lay there.
She moved closer.
"My lord?" she whispered.
Suddenly the figure shot up in the bed and she saw his startled face, saw his hands fly up to cover his features, and she gasped in recognition.
"I know you!"
"Who are you?" He leapt from beneath the silken sheets, naked in the moonlight, ran forward to seize her. "A woman!"
"Aye…" purred she. "And you are a man." She laughed softly. "Not a giant at all, though of goodly height. Your mask and armor made you seem more than a foot taller."
"What do you want?"
"I sought to entertain you, sir-and be entertained. But I am disappointed, for I believed you to be other than human. Now I know you to be the man I saw in the Throne Room two years ago-the man Meliadus brought before the King-Emperor."
"So you were there that day." His grip tightened on her and his hand rose to yank off her mask and cover her mouth. She nibbled the fingers; stroked the muscles of the other arm. The hand on her mouth relaxed.
"Who are you?" he whispered. "Do others know?"
"I am Flana Mikosevaar, Countess of Kanbery. None suspects you, daring German. And I will not call in the guards, if that is what you expect, for I have no interest in politics and no sympathy with Meliadus. Indeed, I am grateful to you, for you rid me of a troublesome spouse."
"You are Mikosevaar's widow?"
"I am. And you I knew immediately by the black jewel in your forehead which you sought to hide when I entered. You are Duke Dorian Hawkmoon von Koln, here in disguise, no doubt, to learn the secrets of your enemies."
"I believe I shall have to kill you, madam."
"I have no intention of betraying you, Duke Dorian.
At least, not at once. I came to offer myself for your pleasure, that is all. You have rid me of my mask."
She turned her golden eyes upward to regard his handsome face. "Now you may rid me of the rest of my garb…"
"Madam," he said hoarsely. "I cannot. I am married."
She laughed. "As am I-I have been married countless times."
There was sweat on his forehead as he returned her gaze and his muscles tensed. "Madam-I-I cannot…"
There was a sound and they both turned.
The door separating the apartments opened and there stood a gaunt, good-looking man who coughed a little ostentatiously and then bowed. He, too, was completely naked.
"My friend, madam," said Huillam D'Averc, "is of a somewhat rigid moral disposition. However, if I can assist…"
She moved toward him, looking him up and down.
"You seem a healthy fellow," she said.
He turned his eyes away. "Ah, madam, it is kind of you to say so. But I am not, not a well man. On the other hand," he reached out and took her shoulder, guiding her into his chamber, "I will do what little I can to please you before this failing heart gives up on me…"
The door closed, leaving Hawkmoon trembling.
He sat on the edge of his bed, cursing himself for not having slept in his cumbersome disguise, but the exhausting tour of the day had made him dispense with caution of that kind. When the Warrior in Jet and Gold had put the plan to them, it had seemed unnecessarily dangerous. The logic had been sound enough-they must discover if the old man from Yel had been found before they went off searching for him in Western Granbretan. But now it seemed their chances of getting such information were dashed.
The guards must have seen the countess enter. Even if they killed her or imprisoned her, the guards would suspect something. They were in a city that was, to a man, totally dedicated to their destruction. They had no allies and there was no possible hope of escape once their real identities became known.
Hawkmoon racked his brains for a plan that would at least enable them to flee the city before it became alerted, but all seemed hopeless.
Hawkmoon began to pile on his heavy robes and armour. The only weapon he had was the golden baton which the Warrior had given him to complete the impression of a noble dignitary from Asiacommunista.
He hefted it, wishing he had a sword.
Pacing the room, he continued to try to think of a feasible plan of escape, but nothing came.
He was still pacing when morning came and Huillam D'Averc put his head through the door and grinned.
"Good morning, Hawkmoon? Have you had no rest, man? I sympathize. Neither have I. The countess is a demanding creature. However I am glad to see you ready for a journey. We must hurry."
"What do you mean, D'Averc? I have tried all night to conceive a plan, but I can think of nothing…"
"I have been questioning Flana of Kanbery and she has told me everything we need to know, for Meliadus, apparently, has confided much in her. She has also agreed to help us escape."
"How?"
"Her private ornithopter. It is ours for the taking."
"Can you trust her?"
"We must. Listen-Meliadus has not yet had time to seek out Mygan of Llandar. By good fortune, it was our arrival kept him here. But he knows of himknows, at least, that Tozer learned his secret from an old man in the West-and means to find him. We have the chance to find Mygan first. We can go part of the way by Flana's ornithopter which I will fly and continue the rest of the journey on foot."
"But we are weaponless-without proper clothes!"
"Weapons and clothes I can obtain from Flanamasks also. She has a thousand trophies of past conquests in her chambers."
"We must go to her chambers now!"
"No. We must wait for her to return here."
"Why?"
"Because, my friend, Meliadus may still be sleeping in her apartments. Have patience. We are in luck. Pray that it will hold!"
Not much later Flana returned, took off her mask and kissed D'Averc almost hesitantly, as a young girl might kiss a lover. Her features seemed softer and her eyes less haunted, as if she had found some quality in D'Averc's lovemaking that she had not experienced before-possibly gentleness, which was not a quality of the men of Granbretan.
"He is gone," she said. "And I have half a mind, Huillam, to keep you here, for myself. For many years I have contained a need which I could not express, never satisfy. You have come close to satisfying it…"