No. Best keep it a secret for as long as possible. Outside of Jessep and Trae and Thicelt, the only people here who knew that Adrian Gellert was her child's father were the women. And she trusted them to keep their mouths shut.
Eventually, the guards agreed to let in a delegation. Trae, a dozen of his soldiers, Jessep and Ilset, and Helga herself. Then, twice that number of guards insisted on escorting them to the building which Adrian used for his dwelling.
As they approached, Helga found herself more nervous than she could ever remember being in her life. Then, when she discovered that Adrian was not home-one of his officers explained that he was meeting with a Southron chief-she found herself more upset than she would have believed possible.
But she let none of it show. The officer recognized her, as it happened. His name was Donnuld Grayn, and Helga could remember him as one of the soldiers in Adrian's company during the time she had spent as Adrian's "captive."
Grayn was affability itself, once he understood who she was. Quickly, he ordered the escort to let the rest of Helga's people into the compound, and invited Helga and Jessep and Ilset to wait for Adrian in his apartments. Trae and his men waited outside, with Grayn keeping them company.
And then… she waited. Perched on a couch, the baby in her arms, all of her anxiety returning with a vengeance. She was too preoccupied to even notice the surroundings, or pay any attention to Ilset and Jessep's idle chitchat. She had waited for this moment-yearned for it, in truth-for well over a year. Now that it was here, she was almost gasping for breath. Her worst fears surged to the fore.
He won't even remember me. Barely, at best. By now he must have another woman. Some exotic Southron bitch. I bet he won't even***
Then, he was standing in the open door, staring at her, with Trae's grinning face visible over his shoulder.
His face was much as she remembered it, if quite a bit more pale. But his first words were… nothing she had ever imagined in her many daydreams of this moment. They were uttered almost desperately, and in a much thinner voice than she remembered him having.
"If I get sick all over you, please don't take it personally. It's just that I found it necessary to share a cup-several, in fact-with one of the chiefs, and the stuff is the most horrible-they make it from- ulp- "
He did manage not to puke on her, but it was a close thing. If she hadn't hastily lifted her feet, she would have had to wash herself afterward. And, judging from the smell, would have had to discard the sandals entirely.
"You drank that?" She burst into laughter and held up her baby so the boy could admire his father. "See? Don't let anybody ever claim you were sired by some kind of Emerald wimp."
Ashen-faced, Adrian lifted his head and smiled weakly. Then, seeing the child, his eyes grew vague and unfocused. Helga remembered that weird expression, and almost shivered. Adrian's spirits were communing with him.
"He is your son," she said, softly but firmly. "I know it, even if I can't prove it."
The color was returning to Adrian's face. His smile grew firmer. "No need, Helga. He's my child, I'm quite certain of it."
Adrian used the word certain in a way which Helga had never heard any other man use it. Always, as if he were- certain. That was those mysterious "spirits" again. Somehow, in a manner which Helga did not understand, they had examined the boy and told Adrian that he was surely his own offspring.
Jessep came over and handed Adrian a rag, which he'd obtained somewhere in the apartment. Then, with several others, began cleaning up the mess on the floor. The former First Spear was no stranger to cleaning up vomit, clearly enough.
Adrian gave him a nod of thanks and wiped his mouth. Then, his eyes moving back and forth from Helga to the baby, asked in a still stronger voice: "What's his name?"
"I don't know. I never named him. I thought that since you were the father, you'd want to have a say in the matter. And-" She took a deep breath. "I always knew I'd see you again." The last statement sounded more like a plea than a statement.
Adrian's eyes were now focused entirely on her. She remembered those bright blue eyes. Could remember drowning in them at night and warming in them at dawn. She almost uttered the word please! — but managed to retain enough dignity not to say it aloud.
"Me too," he whispered. "The gods only know how much I've missed you."
Now she was laughing again, and it felt like all the tension of the past year was pouring out of her in the laughter itself-like water storming through a broken dike. And Jessep was laughing, and Adrian-Ilset too, with her own baby gurgling happily.
Only the child of Adrian Gellert and Helga Demansk was silent, staring wide-eyed at this strange new apparition in his young life. Wondering, perhaps, how anything in the world could be so blue.
A bit later, after Adrian and Jessep had finished cleaning up, Helga shooed everyone else out of the apartment. She handed the baby to Ilset on the way out. That had been prearranged between the two of them. By now, Ilset had nursed Helga's baby as well as her own any number of times, and she would have no trouble taking care of the infant until the following morning.
"Bet you won't have to fake it, either," murmured Ilset slyly, as she passed through the door. Helga's riposte came immediately to her lips, but before she could utter it, Adrian was closing the door and had her in his embrace.
A minute or two later, Helga murmured it in his ear. "That's one advantage to a man in a savage's loincloth. I don't have to wonder if he's faking his affection."
Adrian chuckled, but said nothing. By now, Helga was delighted to note, his normally fluent language had degenerated entirely into a series of growls.
The other advantage to a loincloth, she quickly discovered, was how easily it came off. The rest of it gave her no surprises, except that it was even better than she remembered.
Trae and Thicelt left a week later. Only Jessep and the hundred remained behind. On the morning that they left, Trae was quietly taken aside by Helga and handed a sealed and bound codex.
"Give this letter to Father," she said.
Trae hefted the packet. "Letter? This weighs as much as an Emerald tome."
Helga smiled. "Well… I guess it is, in a way. Adrian wrote most of it. He even gave the thing a title, believe it or not." She shook her head fondly, the way a woman will do at the antics of a man she loves but finds often eccentric.
"A title?" Trae stared down at the package. "I won't read it, of course. But I'm curious. What's the title?"
"He called it Meditations on Successful Tyranny."
"How spiritual sounding!" chortled Trae.
Helga, remembering the "trance-haze" in which her lover had spent many hours writing the thing, knew that the jesting phrase was far more accurate than Trae imagined. Adrian had finally explained to her the nature of his "spirits." Helga didn't really understand it, not fully at least. She wasn't happy at the thought that two other disembodied intelligences were sharing Adrian's mind-certainly not when they were making love! — but she had reconciled herself to the reality. And she understood how valuable their advice would be, to her father even more than Adrian himself.
"Just make sure he gets it," she snapped. "Mind your big sister!"
PART II: THE CONQUEROR
Chapter 16
"It's incredible," whispered Jeschonyk. The old Triumvir, formerly Speaker Emeritus, leaned over the railing and stared out at the gigantic fleet assembling below. The balcony was on the top floor of the building which Demansk had purchased for his own residence and headquarters in Solinga, and it fronted directly on the city's huge and splendid harbor.
"Not even the ancients speak of such a fleet," he added. The whispered words carried an undertone of awe… and not a little in the way of fear.