Alan Akers - Prince of Scorpio

I said, “Has there been any news of Tharu of Vindelka?”

“How strange you ask that, Strom Drak! Vomanus of Vindelka has searched long and in vain — the world is strange and marvelous beyond the confines of Vallia — and he has been much in our thoughts lately.” And here the Emperor glanced at Delia.

She said, “Vomanus is the heir and he searches for Tharu with a devotion I find commendable.”

Point taken.

We talked on in general terms, and then Delia said, with a cool effrontery that amused me, “I had heard the Strom of Valka was a hairy man, very violent, who raped a tower of the maidens dedicated to the Maiden of the Many Smiles.” She shot a look directly at me. “You do not look like that, Strom.”

“That is not my idea of recreation.” I had heard the calumny, put about by the racters. “The truth is that a certain Foke the Ob-handed did that foul deed. It happened on a tiny islet on the eastern coast of Valka. I was in the Heart Heights at the time. Foke has not been caught. When he is I shall string him as high as the topmost stone of that tower of the maidens.”

The Emperor nodded, clucking his tongue.

“And very proper, too.” He looked about, his eyes gleaming white, a sudden and revealing gesture from an Emperor. “He belongs to the racters, does he not?”

“He does, Majister.”

“The racters.” He did not say any more. Poor devil — here was I, Dray Prescot, feeling sorry for this dread Emperor!

Delia said, “We had no warning of your coming to Vondium, Strom Drak.”

“I had business here, Princess.”

“Did you know Drak was the name of my grandfather when he ascended the throne?”

I inclined my head. “I have always taken great pride in that, Princess. I feel that our destinies are linked.”

If she could play this game, then so could I!

“Really!” She tinkled her laughter, so gay, so forced, so artificial. “I heard once — a story, a silly trifle

— of a man called the Kov of Delphond. His name, so men said, was Drak.” She laughed again, gesturing negligently with her arm. How I longed to take that rounded glowing arm and haul her to me and plant an enormous kiss on those luscious lips! “Delphond is a sweet place, very dear to me. If that man had been caught, assuming him to have existed, I would have asked you, Drak, Strom of Valka, to hoist him up to the topmost stone of the tower along with Foke the Ob-handed.”

The Emperor threw his daughter a puzzled glance. He reached out his hand to the empty air and immediately a handmaid placed a goblet in his fingers. He had no fear of poison, I judged, and recollected that poison is used so rarely on Vallia that when it is, it is marked and noted and remembered.

He moved away, talking to the Chuktar of his guard. The courtiers moved with him, always at their respectful distance, and only Delia’s handmaids were left with us. I had no idea how proper was my conduct in not moving with the Emperor.

“I ought to go, Princess, with the Emperor your father.”

“That is all right, Strom, in private. Our protocol is not overpowering. Come, sit with me.”

I looked at the Emperor in the instant that he turned to look back at me, his head half bent. He nodded. I bowed deeply. Then I turned around and sat down next to the Princess Majestrix. She waved her hand and the handmaidens seemed to become insubstantial wraiths.

She laughed aloud delightfully — and quite artificially to me, who had heard her laughing as we strode along through the Hostile Territories on our bare feet — and said: “Indeed, Strom, Valka sounds a most outlandish place. Tell me of it.”

Then, leaning forward a little, she said in a voice that snickered in like a rapier between the ribs: “You great onker-headed idiot, Dray Prescot! What happens if the real Strom of Valka walks in?”

I couldn’t stop myself.

I lay back on the silken cushions with their gold and silver embroidery and I laughed. I laughed fit to bust a gut.

The Emperor swung around. All conversation ceased. I was the focus of all eyes, staring at me, uncertain — scared!

I stood up and controlled myself.

I inclined to the Emperor.

“The Princess Majestrix is a worthy daughter to a great father,” I said. I meant at least half of that. “She has the gift of arousing the best in any man, Your Majesty. I did not mean to offend anyone here.”

He nodded, looking a little — puzzled, I thought. He turned away and went on with his conversation with the Chuktar, and I flopped back next to Delia.

“You glorious girl,” I said, changing what I had been about to say to a cliche no one could take amiss. “I am the true strom.”

“You mean — no, Dray, my darling! You can’t be!”

And then I remembered what the Gdoinye, speaking to me for the very first time on Kregen, had said. There was a time loop here. I knew that Delia would have heard gossip and news of this ferocious Strom of Valka, and of how he had cleared out the slavers and aragorn from his island, and received his patent of nobility — and all this would have been happening before she parted with me in the Hostile Territories. I had been on Kregen in two different places at the same time!

No wonder the Star Lords sometimes barred me off from travel!

My explanation was fragmentary and in a low voice. To have to sit here on silken cushions next to my Delia, so close to my own sweet Delia of the Blue Mountains, and be unable so much as to touch her! I knew that a single contact with her would result in my being run outside and at the best having my head parted from my body — and more likely having my body torn apart by red-hot irons. The Princess Majestrix was sacrosanct.

As she should be, of course.

The situation was idiotic, ludicrous, and fraught with terrible danger. Both of us wanted to gasp out our love for each other, to clasp each other in our arms, to tell all our news, and gaze deeply into the other’s eyes in absolute joy and wonder; yet we must sit here, so prim and precise, under the watchful eyes of the guards and the courtiers. I knew there were many eyes of spies there, people working for the racters, for the panvals, men and women working for all the different parties and lords each of whom wanted his own advantage from the Emperor. Drak, Strom of Valka, was a marked man henceforth.

That wouldn’t worry me.

I started to tell her that she must run away with me, at once, back to Valka and then, probably, to Strombor.

“Yes! Oh, yes, Dray, my darling!”

No hesitation, no regrets for leaving the sumptuousness all about her, no thoughts of her life here in Vallia as the Princess Majestrix. If the Strom of Valka kidnapped her, then his head would be forfeit and never more would she be able to return to her home. Strombor, then. . But — no slightest hesitation. She agreed willingly, joyfully, eagerly. Oh, yes, there is no woman in two worlds like Delia of the Blue Mountains!

Everything within the palace of Vondium was — and still is — conducted with order and dignity. I felt the sense of impressiveness, even then, when my every thought was of abducting the Princess out of that palace.

We spent what really amounted to only a few murs together before that audience was over and I had to take my leave of the Princess Majestrix and return with the Emperor to the throne room. He had taken a shine to me. Later we took a meal together in a private apartment with a number of the high men of the realm. These men were strangers to me then, but how well I know them now! Some as good and loyal friends, others as bitter and deadly enemies. As they stride onto the stage of my story I will introduce them to you. But, as always, following my plan, I will speak only of people and places and things as they impacted on me at the time, when I met them, even though I knew of them before that. The first of these to whom you should be introduced called on me the very next day at my new lodgings. He was Nath Larghos, the Trylon of the Black Mountains. A Trylon is a rank intermediate between a Vad and a Strom. The Black Mountains extend northward of the Blue Mountains and, although neither so lofty nor extensive, are composed of a black basaltic rock rich in minerals. Eastward the Trylonate runs into farming and agricultural products.