He bent and kissed her lightly on the lips and his voice seemed sincere when he said: "And you, too, Flana, have given me something…" He straightened stiffly, having donned his heavy, built-up garments.
He placed his tall mask upon his head. "Come, we must hurry, before the palace wakes."
Hawkmoon followed D'Averc's example, donning his own helmet, and once again the two resembled strange, half-human creatures, the emissaries from Asiacommunista.
Now Flana led them from the apartments, past the Mantis guards, who fell in behind them, and through the twisting, shining corridors until her own apartments were reached. They ordered the guards to remain outside.
"They will report that they followed us here," D'Averc said. "You will be suspected, Flana!"
She doffed her heron mask and smiled. "No," she said and crossed the deep carpet to a polished chest set with diamonds. She raised the lid and took out a long pipe, at the end of which was a soft bulb. "This bulb contains a poison spray," she said. "Once inhaled, the poison turns the victim mad so that he runs wild and berserk before dying. The guards will run through many corridors before they perish. I have used it before. It always works."
She spoke so sweetly of murder that Hawkmoon was forced to shudder.
"All I need do, you see," she continued, "is to push the hollow rod through the keyhole and squeeze the bulb."
She placed the apparatus on the lid of the chest and led them through several splendid, eccentrically furnished rooms, until they came to a chamber with a huge window that looked out onto a broad balcony.
There on the balcony, its wings neatly folded, fashioned to resemble a beautiful scarlet and silver heron, was Flana's ornithopter.
She hurried to another part of the room and drew back a curtain. There, in a great pile, was her bootyclothes, masks and weapons of all her departed lovers and husbands.
"Take what you need," she murmured, "and hurry."
Hawkmoon selected a doublet of blue velvet, hose of black doe-skin, a sword-belt of brocaded leather which held a long, beautifully balanced blade and a poignard. For his mask he took one of his slain enemy's-Asrovaak Mikosevaar's-glowering vulture masks.
D'Averc dressed himself in a suit of deep yellow with a cloak of lustrous blue, boots of deerhide and a blade similar to Hawkmoon's. He, too, took a vulture mask, reasoning that two of the same Order would be likely to be travelling together. Now they looked truly great nobles of Granbretan.
Flana opened the window and they stepped out into the cold, foggy morning.
"Farewell," whispered Flana. "I must get back to the guards. Farewell, Huillam D'Averc. I hope we shall meet again."
"I hope so, also, Flana," replied D'Averc with unusual gentleness of tone. "Farewell."
He climbed into the cockpit of the ornithopter and started the motor. Hawkmoon hastily got in behind him.
The thing's wings began to beat at the air and with a clatter of metal it rose into the gloomy sky of Londra, turning West.
Chapter Thirteen
KING HUON'S DISPLEASURE
MANY EMOTIONS CONFLICTED in Baron Meliadus as he entered the Throne Room of his King Emperor, abased himself and began the long trudge toward the Throne Globe.
The white fluid of the globe surged more agitatedly than usual, alarming the Baron. He was at once furious that the emissaries had disappeared, nervous of his monarch's wrath, anxious to pursue his quest for the old man who could give him the means of reaching Castle Brass. Also he feared lest he lose his power and his pride and (the king had been known to do it before) be banished to the Quarter of the Unmasked. His nervous fingers brushed his wolf-helm and his step faltered as he neared the Throne Globe and looked anxiously up at the foetus-like shape of his monarch.
"Great King Emperor. It is your servant Meliadus."
He fell to his knees and bowed to the ground.
"Servant? You have not served us very well, Meliadus!"
"I am sorry, Noble Majesty, but…"
"But?"
"But I could have no knowledge that they planned to leave last night, returning by the means with which they came…"
"It should have been your business to sense their plans, Meliadus."
"Sense? Sense their plans, Mighty Monarch…?"
"Your instinct is failing you, Meliadus. Once it was exact-you acted according to its dictates. Now your silly plans for vengeance fill your brain and being and make you blind to all else. Meliadus, those emissaries slew six of my best guards. How they killed them, I know not-perhaps a mental spell of some land-but kill them they did, somehow leaving the palace and returning to whatever machine brought them here. They have discovered much about usand we, Meliadus, have discovered virtually nothing about them."
"We know a little of their military equipment…"
"Do we? Men can lie, you know, Meliadus. We are displeased with you. We charged you to perform a duty and you performed it only partially and without your full attention. You spent time at Taragorm's palace, left the emissaries to their own devices when you should have been entertaining them. You are a fool, Meliadus. A fool!"
"Sire, I-"
"It is your stupid obsession with that handful of outlaws who dwell in Castle Brass. Is it the girl you desire? Is that why you seek them with such single-mindedness?"
"I fear they threaten the Empire, noble sire…"
"So does Asiacommunista threaten our Empire, Baron Meliadus-with real swords and real armies and real ships that can travel through the earth. Baron, you must forget your vendetta against Castle Brass or, we warn you, you had best be wary of our displeasure."
"But, sire…"
"We have warned you, Baron Meliadus. Put Castle Brass from your mind. Instead, try to learn all you can of the emissaries, discover where their machine met them, how they managed to leave the city. Redeem yourself in our eyes, Baron Meliadus-restore yourself to your old prestige…"
"Aye, sire," Baron Meliadus said through gritted teeth, controlling his anger and chagrin.
"The audience is at an end, Meliadus."
"Thank you," said Meliadus, blood pounding in his head, "sire."
He backed away from the Throne Globe.
He turned on his heel and began to pace the long hall.
He reached the jewelled doors, pushed past the guards and strode down the gleaming corridors of shifting light.
On he marched, and on, his pace rapid and his movements stiff, his hand white on the hilt of his sword which it gripped tightly.
He paced until he had reached the great reception hall of the palace where waited the nobles craving audience with the King Emperor; descended the steps that led to the gates opening on the outer worlds, signed for his girls to come forward with his litter, clambered into it and dumped himself heavily on its cushions, and allowed himself to be borne back to his black and silver palace.
Now he hated his King Emperor. Now he loathed the creature who had humiliated him so, thwarted him so, insulted him so. King Huon was a fool not to realise the potential danger offered by Castle Brass. Such a fool was not fit to reign, not fit to command slaves, let alone Baron Meliadus, Grand Constable of the Order of the Wolf.
Meliadus would not listen to King Huon's stupid orders, would do what he thought best and, if the King Emperor objected, then he would defy him.
A little later, Meliadus left his palace on horseback.
He rode at the head of twenty men. Twenty handpicked men whom he could trust to follow him anywhere-even to Yel.