With this in mind, we may see at once that, upon hearing the announcement that His Majesty had deigned to enter her quarters, Noima stood respectfully
but coolly and awaited his pleasure, showing no signs of embarrassment, but neither any sign of welcome.
“I bid you good evening, madam,” he began.
“And a good evening to you, Sire. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Is it strange that I wish to see you, madam?”
“Strange? Perhaps not, Sire, yet I confess that I did not expect you.”
“Well, am I less welcome for that?”
“Sire, you will, I hope, always be welcome here, whatever your purpose in coming.”
“You pretend that I have a purpose, then?”
“Well, have you not?”
The Emperor sighed and dug his nails into the palms of his hands, for, now that he was there, he found it no easy matter to say what he had come to say. He cleared his throat, then, and said, “Well, madam, it is true; I have come here for a purpose.”
“Should I, then, send my maids away?”
Tortaalik began to say yes, but then, looking at the pretty girls who stood around Noima with their faces bowed, he suddenly seemed to see Wellborn’s countenance before his eyes, and he said, “No, let them stay, for it is only right that they hear what I have to tell you.”
“What, Sire? You have something to tell me?” The expression on her face now resembled surprise and interest, with, indeed, some measure of anxiety.
“I have,” said the Emperor.
“But tell me then, I beg of you, Sire, for you can see that I am frightened at your countenance.”
“You have no need to be, madam.”
“No need? Yet you seem so stern, Sire.”
“Well, that is because I am wroth.”
“Oh, Sire, in what way have I been so unfortunate as to incur your displeasure?”
“You have not, Noima; rather I am wroth at myself.”
The Consort, on hearing him use her proper name, began to believe for the first time that she was not, in fact, about to be reprimanded before her ladies, a humiliation that would have stung a thousand times more than had it been delivered in private. Consequently, she began to breathe easier. “Well,” she said, “but how can you be angry at yourself?”
“I have done something of which I am ashamed, madam, and I come here to beg your forgiveness for it.”
“What? Your Majesty apologize to me? But, Sire, this is unheard of.”
“Perhaps. It is nevertheless the case that I was wrong to speak harshly to you earlier to-day, and twice wrong to send Lord Adron away.”
“Oh, but Sire—”
“Allow me to finish, madam. I say it was wrong, and there is no fault with you. I shall, to-morrow, send a message by post to Lord Adron and beg his forgiveness. That is all I have to say.”
“Surely you go too far, Sire.”
“Not the least in the world. And, that said, I will now retire. Unless—”
“Yes, Sire? Unless?”
“Unless, madam, you will permit to embrace you first.”
“Ah, with pleasure, Sire. There.”
“Then you forgive me, Noima.”
“Oh, there is nothing to forgive your Majesty for; yet, if there were, you have surely earned forgiveness a thousand times over.”
“Well then, madam, I retire the happiest of men, the happiest of husbands.”
“And you take your leave of a loyal and devoted wife, Sire.”
Tortaalik, who by this time really was happy and proud that he had done what he ought, bowed with pleasure and retired from the Consort’s apartments, and went straightaway in search of Lord Garland.
Garland was never difficult to find, for if the Emperor always had his eye on the Empire, then Garland always had his eye on the Emperor. We know that he was a small and graceful man, with the sinewy legs and arms of the Tsalmoth, and we know he must have been better with a blade than some of his critics say, for while he was Tortaalik’s favorite he fought some nine-and-twenty duels, and if he was not always victorious, he was never known to have taken a serious injury, and it is also known that, in a quarrel over certain looks the Emperor may or may not have given Jenicor e’Terics, he fought with the Marquis of Clawhills, himself a good blade, and that Garland laid the Marquis out stone dead in a single pass.
The Emperor, then, found this gentleman in one of the antechambers of Tortaalik’s apartments, where he was engaged in playing dice with several other gentlemen of the court. The players rose and bowed to His Imperial Majesty, who answered only with a curt nod. He then made a sign that Garland should attend him and walked past the players into one of the lavish sitting rooms that made up his private area of the palace. Garland made haste to give his spot up to one of the gentlemen who were unengaged, and followed his liege.
He found the Emperor standing, with one hand resting on a black marble desk, the other on a shelf of folios. Garland gave His Majesty a courtesy and awaited his words.
“Lord Garland,” said His Majesty, “bide a moment.” Tortaalik then sat at his desk and found parchment, a quill, ink and blotter, and, with his own hand, composed a note, which he sealed with the Imperial arms, and again with his personal signet. He then addressed the envelope and handed it to Garland, who took it, looked at the address, and could not keep an expression of surprise from crossing his countenance.
“Your Majesty, what does this mean?”
Tortaalik, still sitting at the desk, gazed up the Tsalmoth and said, “Lord Garland, it nearly seems you question me.”
Garland seemed almost to choke, but he stammered out an apology, saying, “Have I somehow been so unfortunate as to displease Your Majesty?”
“I don’t say that you have.”
“But—”
“Hold your peace, Garland.”
The Tsalmoth bowed. The Emperor continued, “The note, as you can see, is addressed to His Highness Lord Adron e’Kieron. It contains an apology I feel obligated to send him, because I so unjustly sent him away today. Do you understand, Lord Garland?”
“Sire, I—”
“You will deliver that message personally.”
“I … when am I to set out, Sire?”
“At once.”
“Sire, it is a journey of more than a few days by carriage, and I must prepare.”
“You may use the post horses. Here is a draft on the treasury for two hundred orbs, which should see you there and back.”
“Still, Sire, I must beg of you still some time to prepare for the journey.”
“Very well, Garland; you may postpone your departure until to-morrow morning.”
“I obey, Sire. Will that be all?”
“Yes.” He made a dismissing gesture, at which time Garland bowed low and backed out of the room.
We will now, with our readers’ kind permission, leave the Emperor, who is, at any rate, going to do no more than finish some correspondence and then sleep; and follow Lord Garland, who is climbing up several flights of stairs and arriving in an unfurnished tower room, the very one, in fact, in which we were first introduced to the Athyra called Seodra. It should not, then, come as a complete surprise if we find, upon entering this chamber in Garland’s illustrious company, that Seodra is already there.
“You have something to communicate to me, Lord Garland?”
The Tsalmoth evidently feared the Athyra, for he was able to maintain his composure only with some difficulty. He did not speak, but instead handed to her the envelope he had lately been given. Seodra took it into her withered hands and studied it, then said, “What does this mean, Lord Garland?”
“I have been sent to bring this to Lord Adron; His Majesty has done me the honor to inform me that it contains an apology.”
“An apology?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“For what?”
“His Majesty regrets that he sent Lord Adron away this morning.”
“How, regrets?”
“He changed his mind about the Consort’s conduct.”
“That is apparent. But, why is he causing you deliver it? You are neither courier nor diplomatist.”
“I fear His Majesty is angry with me, and this is a punishment.”
“Then you have been discovered, haven’t you?”
Garland swallowed with some difficulty, and kept his eyes on the floor. “Your ladyship—”
“Well? You
have
been discovered, haven’t you?”
“You are a fool, and, moreover, you are clumsy.”
“I followed your orders, ladyship. I did the best—”
“Be silent. It is clear that you have bungled, or His Majesty would not have suspected what you were doing; and it seems certain that he does suspect, if he doesn’t know it for a fact.”
“What must be done now, your ladyship?”
“Well, have you not been given an order by His Majesty?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“Then you must carry it out. When are you to leave?”
“To-morrow morning, your ladyship.”
“Very well. You will do so, and, moreover, you will make such speed as no one has ever made before. Such is your zeal to carry out His Majesty’s orders, that you will, in fact, arrive before Lord Adron, who has a day’s start on you.”
“Very well, your ladyship. What shall I do when I’m there?”
“You perceive that I am writing something?”
“I do, your ladyship.”
“Well, I am writing three names, and locations where you can meet those to whom the names belong, and passwords with which to identify yourself. You are to memorize all of these things before you leave.”
“I will do so.”
“You will reach one or more of these people, and make certain arrangements with them.”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“These arrangements regard the Tiassa and his friends, of whom we have spoken before. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your ladyship. Will they do as I say?”
“They will, if you are convincing. Here, this may help you to be convincing.”
“What is it?”
“The seal of Lord Adron e’Kieron.”
“The seal—! But how did your ladyship come to possess it?”
“That is not your concern, Garland. I have means, you need know no more than that.”
“Very well, I will use the seal as necessary.”
“When you have used it, you will return it to him, explaining that it was found in the apartments he used.”
“I will do so.”
She reached into the folds of her robe and emerged with a copper disk filled with peculiar engravings. “Do you know what this is, Garland?”
“No, but I hope your ladyship will tell me.”
“I will. If you think about me, and begin speaking into it—”
“Well?”
“Well, I will answer you.”
“Sorcery, your ladyship?”
“Exactly, Garland. Does that frighten you?”
“No, your ladyship.”
“You mean to say, I frighten you more.”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“That is wise, Garland. Well, then, when you have reached Lord Adron, use it to speak with me. I may have more instructions for you then.”
“I will not fail to do so, your ladyship.”
“Good. Do you understand your instructions?”
“Memorize names, locations, passwords. Travel quickly. The Tiassa and his friends. The seal, to be used and returned. Deliver His Majesty’s message. Communicate with you.”
“Ah, apropos His Majesty’s message—”
“Well?”
“As you are returning the seal, it may be that you will forget to deliver the message.”
“Your ladyship!”
“We will see. If you forget, then, well, you can remember later, and no harm will come of it. I will let you know my decision on this when you are there.”
“I will obey, your ladyship.”
“Yes. Now get out of my sight.”
Lord Garland did not need to be told twice; he bowed to Seodra and fairly fled the room, returning to his own apartments to prepare for the next day’s departure. While he did this, Seodra sat for a while, considering what needed to be done, then summoned her servant and instructed him to find Lord Shaltre, who dwelt near His Majesty’s apartments, and beg him to return to pay a visit.
In due time, the Lyorn was announced. Seodra stood for him. “Well?” he said. “To what do I owe the honor of this request for an interview?”
“It is to this, Count,” said Seodra. “I have been thinking.”
“Well, I have been known to do the same, from time to time. To what have your thoughts led you?”