"That fellow may have been one of Schlegel's boys," said Reith, "though I hear there are several anti-Terran cults and societies working—"
White hurried up, crying: "Fergus, I've been robbed!"
"How so?" asked the tour guide, frowning.
"The astrologer said I ought to try a booth down the way, where you throw darts at a spinning wheel. The wheel's divided into sectors with different values. But no matter how carefully I threw, I could never get a winning combination. The thing must be rigged."
"What are you crabbing about?" retorted Reith. "You've had your fun and paid for it—probably less than Cyril will pay for his."
"What's Cyril up to?"
"Don't ask; a lady is present." Reith grinned as he caught Alicia suppressing a laugh. When she felt like it, he knew, she was capable of language that would make a longshoreman blush. "And by the way, the Dasht wants us to see another castle tomorrow. His people must have told him you weren't ecstatic over Shaght."
"Where is this other castle?"
"A day's journey north. It's an active fortress, so at least it'll be in good repair."
As they mounted the stairs at the inn, the taverner's potboy touched Reith's arm. "A man from the castle commanded me to give you this missive, my lord. Strictly confidential, he said."
"Thank you," said Reith. In his room he unfolded a sheet of Krishnan paper and frowned as he read the spidery hooks and curls of Gozashtando longhand:
Dearest F: Show no surprise if a strange Terran youth joins you on your return journey.
Opening his door with a haste born of apprehension, Reith called: "Lish! Come here and look at this!"
Alicia studied the script and nodded. "It's Vázni, all right. Seems she's determined to go to Novo with us."
"We must stop her somehow!" exclaimed Reith.
Alicia eyed him sympathetically. "Easier said than done. If I'm any guesser, she'll make herself scarce until departure time. Then, if you try to turn her over to the Dasht—"
"I couldn't do that! He'd kill her."
"It's nice to know you feel that way about ex-wives. But if we tried to stop her some other way, she'd run to the guy with a fanciful tale of rape or mayhem. Then you'd find Gilan's gleaming sword more than a figure of speech."
"I'm not afraid of the pompous ass—"
"Don't be silly, darling! He's got armed men all over the place, and we—Cyril, Jack, and I—are hostages for your good behavior."
"You're right, damn it. It's your most irritating quality, Lish. So what should we do?"
"Look, you don't need me at Castle Mikkim. I want to stay here anyway for a little shopping. While I'm about it, I'll see what can be done about this other thing."
"Got a plan?"
"Let's just say, I'm hatching one."
Reith heaved a sigh. "Okay, superwoman. You've sprung me out of durance vile before; so I guess you'll find the key to this one."
Three days later, Reith, White, and Ordway returned to Rosid. As Reith drove his carriage through the streets, he sensed an undercurrent of bustle and excitement. When he drew up at the inn and turned the reins over to Timásh, Alicia burst out the door to seize Reith and give him a kiss that was anything but cousinly.
"How was your trip?" she asked with one of her dazzling smiles.
"So-so. Jack likes Castle Mikkim better than Shaght but hopes to do better still. The fort's pretty far out in the boonies—"
"That's not the main objection," said White, animated now by the discussion of his specialty. "It's lighting. Castle Mikkim stands on the banks of a river, with steep cliffs on both sides. So it's always in deep shadow. Since we can't bring in good artificial lights, we need the sun, and it strikes Mikkim for only a few minutes each day."
"I thought," said Alicia, "with that super-sensitive film they have nowadays, you could shoot in pitch darkness."
"We could, but you can't fake the chiaroscuro you get from full sunlight. Some of our scenes demand it. An overcast could tie up production completely."
"I hadn't seen Mikkim before," said Reith with a travel agent's enthusiasm. "It has the land of wild, romantic beauty that will appeal to my tourists. What's been happening here? Is something going on?"
Alicia smiled like a satisfied cat. "Only that the Dasht, his fiancée, and a small army of attendants take off tomorrow for Hershid."
Reith gasped: "How come?"
"It seems that Tashian wrote to King Eqrar of Gozashtand—"
"Who's Tashian?" asked White.
"The Regent of Dur, up north, and a cousin of Princess Vázni. Anyway, the Regent sent a letter to his fellow ruler King Eqrar at Hershid, saying that it was time to consider the future government of Dur. Vázni is the late King Dushta'en's only surviving legitimate offspring, and their constitution doesn't allow for the succession of females to the throne. In this connection, he trusts King Eqrar will receive Vázni at his court when she comes to Hershid to discuss the matter of succession with the ambassador from Dur.
"So, after you left, Eqrar's secretary dispatched a messenger inviting Princess Vázni to sojourn at the palace while visiting the capital of Gozashtand. Although the letter invited only Vázni, you can just bet Gilan won't stay home while his betrothed goes off to become heir to a throne or something. He'll be there, presenting his plans, in his usual modest fashion, for becoming the real ruler of Dur.
"Thank goodness, we'll be on the move tomorrow, too. By the way, Gilan has invited us to a farewell banquet this evening. So get washed and shaved, the lot of you!"
"I'm going to let my whiskers grow," said Ordway. "If the wogs can put on false beards, I can wear a real one."
When they were alone, Reith looked narrowly at Alicia. "How did you work it?"
"Who, me? I had nothing to do with it—unless a little prayer to Dashmok helped."
Reith grinned. "If I believed that, I'd also believe in Prince Bourujird's flying chariot."
When they gathered for the drive to the palace, Reith gazed at Alicia with significant intentness. "New gown, in the Rosido high-necked fashion?"
Alicia smiled. "New dress, new style. I spent half of yesterday at the dressmaker's being measured and fitted and poked like a pincushion."
Grinning, Reith quoted:
"Let never maiden think, however, fair,
She is not fairer in new clothes than old!"
"Who wrote that " asked Alicia. "Byron or one of those other old-timers?"
"Tennyson. Just a fragment remembered from my school teaching days."
The onion domes of Rosid emerged from the sun-shredded morning mists and then disappeared behind the coach at a bend in the road. The four travelers settled themselves comfortably for the journey to Novorecife. The barouche moved briskly along the wide road south, the hooves of the ayas crunching on the gravel with Timásh at the reins. Zerré. the shaihan-herd whom Reith had dispatched ahead on the journey to Rosid, followed with baggage loaded on spare ayas.
The farewell banquet had kept them all up most of the night. Ordway and White, after patting yawns, fell into a doze. When they seemed dead to the world, Reith quietly requested: "Lish, now that we're clear of the city, give me the straight goods on this excursion of our lordlings to Hershid."
She chortled. "I forged a letter from King Eqrar and hired the Gavehon I interviewed to deliver it. I figured Vázni would choose a chance to become queen of Dur over a flight with us to Novo."
"How did you get a suit of King Eqrar's livery for the fake messenger to wear?"
"I made it."
"What?" Reith's exclamation snapped White and Ordway out of their doze.