Robert Hughes - The Wizard in Waiting

Rosha jumped on Joss*

back in turn, but guards swarmed everywhere by that time, and he and Bronwynn were both swiftly subdued. The crowd came alive with animated expressions of disbelief and amazement, and Ligne was obliged to nod at the trumpeters. Their piercing blasts stunned the audience into quiet, and Ligne smiled at the players.

“Go on,” she said. “Finish it.”

“We… ah… we…” Gerrig gazed across the stage at Pelmen. His expression was far from kind.

“We can hardly finish it, with two of our players bound like that,”

Pelmen said. “Release them, and we’ll continue.” It was fruitless, he realized, but it seemed Ligne had decided to play out this cat-and-mouse game to the bitter end.

“Release them? Why, this girl just tried to kill me! And as for the lad, well… I have plans for him later. I don’t want him to injure himself.” She smiled fondly at Rosha, who jerked toward her in rage.

“Ah, Rosha, you can’t imagine how I’ve missed that side of you,” Ligne looked back at the stage. “You can’t go on? A shame. I did so want to see it I know. Why not let me play a part?”

“What part do you choose, my Lady? The stage is yours.” Pelmen bowed as he spoke.

“It is mine, isn’t it?” Ligne gloated, and she mounted the steps to look him in the eye. “Why don’t I play myself?”

“Type-casting, to be sure,” Pelmen responded. He wondered how much energy he could muster, and glanced over to watch Bronwynn struggle against Joss. A great sadness swept through him. Struggle that’s all the girl had been allowed to do for months. It wasn’t just. Pelmen thought of the Power, and murmured, “Are you seeing this?”

“What?” Ligne asked. The audience listened in rapt silence.

“Nothing, my Lady. I take it you want to play the scene where the mistress kills the King. I’m ready.”

“Oh, not kills,” Ligne smiled. “I didn’t kill Talith. Didn’t need to, he accomplished that all by himself. No, I only made a fool of him.

Kherda, the bowl of water.”

The Prime Minister rocked up to his feet and scooped up the basin off the floor. As he bent, his eyes swept across those of Princess Bronwynn , ..

“Kherda! Now!” Ligne waited until Kherda brought the bowl of water to her. “I made a fool of Talith,” she said to Pelmen then. “I intend to unmake a fool of you.” Pelmen stood in his place as Ligne dipped a cJoth in the basin and washed the white grease paint from his face,

“The first Prophet!” exclaimed Naquin, and he twisted around to Serphimera. “Look, it’s that Prophet who caused us both such misery.”

Serphimera didn’t respond.

“She knows, Naquin,” said the Queen, walking downstage toward him.

“She’s known for days. And last night at dinner when you berated Pelmen in her presence, so did I.” Ligne turned to face Pelmen, a sneer curling her pretty lips. “Oh, you managed quite well, Pelmen. I honor your talent for deception you had me fooled completely. But your little Priestess there is a revealer of secrets, not a hider of them.

She’d told me before of her intense feelings for you, be they love or hate. She couldn’t hide those feelings from me. Not from me!” the Queen finished with a dramatic flourish of her hand.

“You missed your calling, Ligne,” Pelmen said quietly. You should have been an actress.”

“Should have been? I am an actress. Mustn’t every regent be a player of sorts? As your little play makes clear, the halls of state are no place for the guileless innocent.” Ligne smirked. “And that’s what you’ve surrounded yourself with, Pelmen. Innocents. Fools.” Ligne turned to Joss and shouted, “Take them!” The armed warriors didn’t wait for their commander to pass along the order. They scrambled onto the stage immediately, and soon every player in the troupe was trussed as soundly as Bronwynn. During the interval, Ligne strolled gracefully off the dais and resumed her throne. The captives were then led to stand facing her along the apron of the platform. Obviously, she’d choreographed her triumph quite carefully.

“Now then.” She smiled. “What’s next? Pelmen, don’t we get some kind of speech from you?”

“To what effect, my Lady?”

“Why, I assumed you would attempt to arouse the rabble against me.

Wasn’t that your plan, your reason for ingratiating yourself with each of my servants?”

“There was no plan, my Lady, save to escape from you

“No plan. Oh, come now.”

“It’s true. I only wanted to protect my friends and loved ones.”

“Then how did this little Princess get back inside my castle?” Ligne jumped up, crossed to Bronwynn, and grabbed the girl’s chin.

Pelmen had hoped Bronwynn might go unrecognized under her makeup, but he was disappointed even in this. “She was brought into this house by the same man who took her out. Admon Faye.”

“Ah yes.” Ligne nodded. “And where is that ugly slaver?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Don’t lie to me. You know exactly where he is. You’ve been working together with bun.”

“You’re mistaken, my Lady.”

“You deny that you plotted my downfall together?”

“I would plan nothing with Admon Faye, my Lady. Not even an enterprise as necessary as your demise.”

“You watch your tongue!”

“You asked I responded.”

“You want me to kill you here?”

“It matters little to me where I die, my Lady, if you’ve determined already that I shall.”

“I thought I might give you a chance to decide that.” Ligne smiled.

Then she laughed at Pelmen’s puzzled look.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps a little wager is in order.”

“A wager?”

“On a game of Drax. If you win, you may take this rubbish heap of an acting troupe with you. If you lose, I kill each of you personally ”

“Done!” Pelmen snapped, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Pelmen,” Gerrig began, but the power shaper cut him off.

“Gerrig, it’s clearly the only alternative and it’s surprisingly fair.”

He looked back to Ligne. “I thank you, my Lady, for the opportunity you offer.”

“You seem so eager, Pelmen. How is that, after six straight losses against me?”

“You may find I play quite differently when my life depends on it. As is customary in accepting the life-death challenge, I offer you choice of red or. blue.”

“Red or blue?” Ligne asked in mocking innocence. “Not green as well?”

Pelmen’s eyes narrowed. “Such a challenge traditionally means the green will be played by the dummy.” More needless words, Pelmen thought. He was indeed an innocent to think Ligne would challenge fairly! It was clear, now, what she intended.

“And I have just such a dummy in mind. Kherda, my Prime Minister.”

Her words touched off a wave of quiet protest among the crowd, for Pelmen had been quite correct in assuming she’d offered him a challenge to Green Dummy. Kherda was stung, not only by Ligne’s insult, but by her injustice as well. He shuffled to his feet. “My Lady! Is this fair?”

“To term you a dummy? Certainly it’s fair.”

“To issue such a challenge. Tradition clearly calls for ”

“This miserable actor came into my house to steal my throne! I’ve offered him the opportunity to free himself and his friends, and he’s accepted the wager.”

“Yes, but ”

“Kherda be silent!” Ligne commanded, and the old man gulped and closed his mouth. “You, of all people, should know that your Queen never plays Green Dummy.” Ligne spun gracefully to face Pelmen. “Or do you back down?” Her blue eyes mocked him.

“That would be a breach of etiquette, my Lady,” Pelmen replied tonelessly, “and we certainly can’t have that Shall we play?”