Роберт Асприн - Forever After

“I see,” Gar said. “In that case, I will be ready to depart following this meeting if you will get me the amulet.”

“Your party can prepare that quickly?”

“I was not accompanied in my travels when I fetched you the amulet,” Gar replied. “I require no assistance in its return.”

“I will address that matter after Domino’s presentation,” said Rango, seating himself and nodding to her to continue.

He glanced again at Jancy when he felt that she was glaring at him. Then she looked away. Just wanted to let him know her feelings, as if he wouldn’t have known them in advance. A tough, husky blonde almost as tall as Domino and considerably heavier, she had been employed as a bouncer in the brothel to which the Princess had been taken after her purchase in the local slave market by the establishment’s owner. Jancy had recognized Rissa as the last surviving member of the Royal House of Regaudia, recently destroyed by Kalaran. She had rescued Rissa and gotten her safely out of town. Their wanderings, for the better part of a year, had taken her, Rissa, and their elf companion Calla Mallanik through a long series of adventures resulting, among other things, in the discovery of the ring Sombrisio in lost Anthurus, city of the dead, and finally leading to a meeting with Prince Rango.

He frowned slightly. Jancy was totally devoted to the Princess. He did not doubt for a moment that she would lay her life down for her. She didn’t get on well with men, however. Her feelings might have had to do with all she had seen and heard in the brothel. Or they might be something that ran deeper. She certainly didn’t seem to trust him fully. He knew that she had referred to Gar Quithnick as “spooky.” While she seemed to trust Spotty a little more than most men, if she had to talk with one of those present he knew that she would probably choose Domino, strictly because of gender.

He shrugged. Spotty and Domino were both aware of Jancy’s quirks and were totally cordial to her. Even Gar lad seemed kindly disposed toward the big woman, to the extent of having dined with her, though he later learned that the main thrust of Gar’s conversation had involved an attempt to discover the death-aesthetic of the Northern totemic warriors — those fellows who wrapped themselves in animal skins and growled as they fought, occasionally gnawing the bodies of the slain in the aftermath of battle. In fact, now he reflected, it was after that dinner that she had begun referring to Gar as “spooky.”

There was silence. Rango returned from his reverie as he realized that the last question had been answered, that Domino — raising her riding crop to her face and saluting him with it, with an outward-curved, downward gesture — was turning the meeting back over to him. He rose to his feet and nodded.

“Thank you, General Blaid,” he said, moving forward. “Domino,” he added then, “I just want to add a few things. First Stiller, Mothganger is in the vault at the palace and will be turned over to you, on the morning of your departure. Jancy, you can work out the terms of surrender on Sombrisio with Rissa—”

“We already have,” she interrupted, “thank you.”

“Good,” Rango stated, smiling broadly at her. “The other two instruments — the amulet Anachron and the scroll of Gwykander — are technically out of my reach. That is to say, they are in the custody of the Temple. They seized them that final day, laying claim to them as religious items. I will refrain from commenting on any possible political motivation here, but I’m certainly not looking for an argument between the Crown and the

Forever After Church at this point. My experts are already seeking the Elders and the priests, to convince them of the danger involved in keeping the pieces. We hope to persuade them to turn the filings loose the day after tomorrow. That, Gar, is why you will be unable to depart on your journey immediately after the meeting. I will let you and Domino — who will be Bearer of the Scroll — know immediately should we run into any problems with the negotiations. Any questions?”

He looked about the room. Finding no responses, he continued:

“I would like to introduce four gentlemen who will be accompanying you in your travels.” He gestured toward a bench along the wall to his left at the room’s rear where two bearded middle-aged men sat between a pair of beardless youths. One by one, they rose to their feet in order as he called their names. “Rolfus,” he said of the first youth, “will accompany Stiller. Squill will go with Jancy. Piggon will join Domino’s party. And Spido will keep company with Gar. All of these men are sorcellets— that is they have been trained in a single magical operation. They are communications specialists. They will keep me posted as to your progress and any problems. And they will advise me when your missions have been completed. It is essential that I have this information immediately rather than waiting upon your return, because I want all loose ends tied off before the coronation. I think it important that I come to power with all of the old business out of the way, and I want to be able to announce the settling of this matter as soon as possible.”

Gar Quithnick raised his hand. When Rango nodded to him he said, “As I explained earlier, I travel faster when I travel alone.”

Rango smiled.

“I am sure that this is generally true,” he said, “but as I explained, the information is essential for preparing the proper opening to my reign. As to Spido’s delaying you, you may be mistaken. He elected to join us when the Armbruss training center, south of Kalaran’s capital, was liberated. He has had several years of hingu training, and he welcomes the opportunity of serving with you.”

Spido bowed formally toward Gar, who responded with an elaborate hand gesture.

“You have satisfied my queries,” he said to Rango.

“Are there any others?” Rango asked the group. When he saw that there were none, he concluded, “Then I thank you, and I wish you all good journeys.”

When the midlevel priest, Lemml Touday, visited the palace that evening with a message for Prince Rango’s ears alone, Rango told his steward to bring him to his quarters directly.

When they were alone he studied the stocky, middle-aged man.

“Do you bring bad news? Or should I offer you a glass of my favorite wine and celebrate with you?”

“I’d prefer the latter,” Lemml said.

Rango gestured toward a cushioned couch and smiled as he filled a pair of goblets, placed them upon a tray, and brought them over.

Rango smiled when the other toasted him, then asked, “A problem with the release of the amulet and the scroll, I presume?”

“No,” the priest replied. “In fact, the talks are going quite as you might have wished. They’ve been adjourned till tomorrow, but your experts on magical instruments and stresses are very persuasive, according to our experts. Off the record, I think they’ve won over everyone who matters.”

“Oh?” Rango lowered his drink and stared. “I don’t understand. There is, perhaps, something you’d like to have for a report of the Temple’s private deliberations on this? Do you wish to let me know who my friends and my enemies are?”

The priest smiled.

“No, that wasn’t what I had in mind at all. I was thinking of something likely worth a lot more.”

“And what might that be?”

“I am the Keeper of the Skull.”

Rango shook his head in puzzlement.

“I don’t understand what that signifies,” he said.

“The principle of evil, the fallen Sunbird, Lord Kalaran,” Lemml said. “I am custodian of his skull.”

“Oh,” Rango remarked. “I wasn’t aware that it had received special treatment.”