JiniverPart2Index | HomePage | Settings | TheEmpire | Jiniver | Story: The Contest on Jiniver: Part 2 The Contest on Jiniver: Part 2The High Priest was troubled. Nothing so extreme as alarmed. Barely even worried. But ... troubled. He had withdrawn after the departure of Drew to the courtyard, but not before two of the younger priests had reported, with great glee, that the boy had huddled against the wall and was apparently weeping bitterly. He had cuffed the pair of them, before striding magnificently on his way, but inwardly her felt a sense of disquiet. This boy was aware of his peril. He had won the contest ... had become God King ... and yet despaired. It wasn't meant to be like this. The system has been devised to choose Kings who were strong of arm and weak of head - to be glorious figureheads for a single year, and then go to a splendid death. When chosen they were meant to be overjoyed ... possibly overwhelmed. They were not meant to realise the death sentence that had been passed upon them. Of course, some of the Kings reacted differently. There were the out and out thugs, who had to be drugged into a state of dazed mute compliance. There were the psychopaths ... that regrettable incident thirty years ago when the Lady had been tortured for three days before the mute servants had managed to make anyone aware of her peril. But then the Maiden had been a child, and the Wise Woman of the day decrepit before her time. Neither had been able to give the warning ... and checks and balances had been imposed since then. He owed his rapid rise in the order to the fact that he had worked to make sure the situation could never happen again with the then Lady (now the Wise Woman). But the majority went through their ruling year in a state of dazed incredulous happiness until the day came when they realised ... They were going to die. Sometimes it was only in the last few days they really absorbed that knowledge. Sometimes it was a month or two before the Time of the Sacrifice. On one appalling occasion it had been a full six months. But never in his time had a God King entered the palace already sunk in despair. The High Priest frowned. To what extent was this going to interfere with his plans? It was hard to say. If anything, it might make his task in the days ahead easier. That remained to be seen. For if all went well, the boy left in the courtyard might not just be the most reluctant God King that Jiniver had ever seen. He might also be the last God King. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Drew shrugs, then continues sipping at his tea saying, "Why would you answer honestly? You're part of this too." She smiles. "No reason that you could understand, I think. And it would be a way of keeping you quiet and passive ... to offer you a chance of escape, and then to let it prove illusory at the last. However, I don't need to play such mind games with you to keep you quiet. Nor does the High Priest. He could keep you sedated all year if he chose. It has been done before." She takes another sip of tea. "I don't want you quiet and passive ... I want you quiet and angry. Filled with the strength that must have led someone like you to fight your way to the Kingship." Drew is silent, sipping his tea. He doesn't believe her. He is pretty sure it is a trick of some sort; he can't figure out what the point of it is, but one lesson he has learned is not to trust anyone. Finally he says, in a change of subject, "What are the sleeping arrangements here?" "You have seen your room," she says, and there is a faint note of surprise in her voice. "I thought you said ... " She breaks off. "No matter. If you wish to share my daughter's bed, that can of course be arranged. Either you will visit her chamber, or she will come to yours, as you prefer. It is the tradition to give notice of your intent." "It isn't required then?" he says, seemingly happy. She adds, a little tartly, "If you prefer, servant girls will be more than happy to share your bed. Some of your predecessors were rather eager in that regard. The idea of sleeping with the Queen herself seemed to intimidate them." "I've never been with a woman," he says shrugging. "I wouldn't even know where to begin in pleasuring them." "That has never been a barrier for most of your predecessors," she says drily. "The pleasuring of their partner appeared to be of little importance to them." "There's no point in doing something if you aren't going to do it right," he says, sipping at his tea. She frowns suddenly. "If you wish, my daughter could instruct you in the arts. There are worse ways to spend your time here, believe me." She smiles. "I am so glad you feel like that. Perhaps, in return, you would do something for me." Drew raises his eyebrow, not saying anything. "My grand-daughter ... ever since she saw the God Games three years ago ... she has been wild to learn how to ... well, defend herself." She takes a delicate sip of tea. "Some of the Kings have been ... well, unkind to the Lady over the years. Although, what people expect when they choose their kings by such a primitive method ..." She broke off and gave him a sharp look. "No matter. I suffered it too in my time. Broken arms ... a broken jaw. On one occasion, I was burnt with hot oil." "Believe me, there have been some brutes as King over the years." Drew listens impassively, sipping his tea. "However, my grand-daughter is determined it shall not happen to her. She wants to learn the skills of combat. Will you teach her?" "Maybe," he says, finishing the tea, and setting the cup down on the saucer. "You could regard it as an exchange," she added drily. "The arts of war for the arts of love." "I don't recall saying I wanted to learn, I've heard such things are supposed to be special, and I don't think I have anything inside of me that is special. I doubt I could make anything special either." "Oh my dear boy," she says softly, "I think you could do something very special indeed." Drew snorts slightly at this, and opens his mouth to say something. He closes it again when he realizes there isn't really anything more that he'd like to say to the woman. He thought he was having another mood swing, his old friend anger seemed like it was returning, making his insides churn with feelings of violence and rage. He wondered if he looked funny sitting there. He made a conscious effort to relax the muscles in his jaw, and to start breathing normally again. He had always been slightly frightened by the thing that stalked around inside of him. He doubted that it was normal at all, and for some reason, being abnormal had never bothered him. "What now?" He asks after he has gone through his own private little drama. "Now?" she appeared to consider. "Well, at this point, most of the Kings would have been demanding to meet my daughter." She smiled suddenly. "In actual fact, most would not have bothered to take tea with me first. Or, indeed, at all." She looked at him thoughtfully. "In fact, young man, most of your predecessors would not have been invited here at all ... " She rose briskly. "You could meet my daughter if you wish, although I see little point in it today. Or my grand-daughter can show you the way back to your own room. Or one of the servants." "It has been a long and hard day for you ... and tomorrow will be as hard. I would rest now, Drew." She paused. "Our servants are, unfortunately, all blind and mute. But they hear well enough ... If there is anything you require, you have only to ask them. Food or ... well, whatever you can think of. Except, of course, your freedom." For a second she looked old and haggard ... the Crone that she was termed. But the change passed; her face became tranquil and lovely once more. "Don't despair, Drew," she said gently. "There is much that can be achieved in a year. Especially if your goal is life." Drew looked at her for a moment, the shifting intelligence is clearly written on his face as he started to consider possibilities. "Why is it you exclude yourself from contact? Is there any reason why you give tasks to your daughter, and grand daughter, but never talk of doing something yourself?" He asked it as a true question, clearly interested. She smiled suddenly, a little wryly. "Perhaps it is because here on Jiniver, old women are disregarded. Once past child-bearing age, they are relegated to the shadows. And ... I have found the shadows useful at times." "You shouldn't allow people to limit you. If I were to guess I would say you are capable of a great many things that many would not give you credit for. I have never been one of many though." He shrugged slightly. She smiled, and rose to her feet. "I am trusting that you are exceptional, Drew." She moved to the door and turned. Shall we go?" Drew stood and said, "Of Course." She walked by his side along the corridor, from time to time glancing at him thoughtfully. He looked at her, catching her eye for a moment as she looks over to him. He arched his eyebrow slightly. "You need to be wary of the High Priest," she said at last. "He is an old ..." she hesitated, searching for the right word. "He is both an ally and an adversary," she said finally. "I made him what he is today. He can never wholly forget that. Nor can he completely forgive." Drew was silent for a moment, then said, "If he crosses me he shall be dead before I am." He said it matter of factly, not really meaning it as a threat. "Don't under-estimate him, Drew," she said drily. "Learn him ... understand his ways. Otherwise he will crush you ... and me too if he believes it expedient." Drew shrugged. "I am patient." "Yes," she said slowly. "You will need to be. Patient in the face of great provocation ... that has broken many men." She looked gravely at him. "Drew ... " "Yes?" he said. "You have great faith in yourself ... and that is understandable in a young man like yourself. But ... from what I have seen, I believe your faith ... is not misplaced." Drew shrugged then said, "I know myself." "Then our task must be now to learn each other," she said. She paused, as if about to say something more, but said simply, "This is your room." He looked at her for a moment, raising an eyebrow, then said, "I asked your grand-daughter a question, I think I'll ask you now." He paused, then went on, "How old are you?" She laughed suddenly. "All Jiniver believes me to be 56. Why should you think otherwise?" "Because I am not a fool that is led blindly," he said, looking at her. "Keep that in mind." She nodded slowly. "Then this much I will tell you. It is a good question to ask. All Jiniver is wrong ... although for a reason I am not prepared to share. You may be an exceptional young man ... but trust is not given lightly. It has to be earned." He smiled slightly at her, nodding. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The High Priest stood impassively as his acolytes dressed him. With the layers of robes, centuries of tradition were laid over his tall, supple form. The man became hidden in the priest as was right and proper. Only once had the man emerged ... when he was young and foolish ... and only one person alive knew of that ... In the mirror, he saw his lips tighten. His underling, the Priest Avroc, stood beside hi,, his shoulders seemingly perpetually hunched in a cringe. "Have you decided, great Lord, what you wish done with the God King?" The High Priest could not be seen to hesitate, but he knew that he was undecided. Very well then, let him mystify his audience. "After the ceremony of enthronement," he said slowly, "the God King will drink the ceremonial cup. Let three mixtures be prepared." Now he had the attention of all the priests. A low excited murmur went around. "The first ... of pure wine." "The second ... will contain the numbing draught. Enough to hold him unconscious for five days." There was an approving muttering. Drugged Priest Kings were not popular with the populace ... but the Priests liked them. A whole year might prove a little difficult to arrange, however. "And the third mixture?" asked the cringing Avroc. The High Priest smiled. "The third? Why ... that shall be poison, of course." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Drew slowly opens his eyes groaning. He feels groggy, like he'd been drinking. Light filters through the creamy blinds, showing the room clearly. Outside, in the courtyard, a strange wooden "thwocking" sound can be heard ... about once every twenty seconds. Interspersed with it ... at least regular intervals ... are pants and gasps, almost of pain, it seems. Drew raises himself up out of bed, standing naked he walks out into the courtyard, wondering what the noise is. There he sees the Maid. In loose white blouson and trousers, which do nothing at all for the plumpness of her immature figure, she is practising with a wooden quaterstaff ... or a least trying to. In fact, she is holding it all wrong, and it is jarring her shoulders badly every time she hits it against a wooden pole ... "You know, there are better ways to do that." He says, trying not to laugh at her, she's obviously trying her best. She looks round at him, her face hot and sweaty, then gasps and looks away, her face flushing. Drew grins slightly, he had never been modest before, and if she wanted to wake him up beating a quarterstaff about, then he didn't feel bad embarrassing her a bit. "What are you trying to do? Your going to hurt yourself." She throws the quarterstaff to the ground and swings round ... he can see that there are tears in her eyes. "I want to learn to fight! I want to be able to defend myself!" He takes a quick hop back, so his toes don't get smashed. "Well, let me go put something on, and I'll show you." She looks up at him, her face eager. "Will you? Really?" "Yeah, sure." He says, turning around, walking away from her back towards his room. He runs his palm over the stubble of his hair, yawning. She sits down on the steps of a stone fountain and waits patiently. Drew dresses, and puts on a pair of soft black boots he finds under his bed. He comes back out, looking rather sharp in black. He walks over to the quaterstaff on the ground, putting his foot on the top of it, he makes a quick movement, flipping the stave up into the air with his foot, and catching it. She gasps, her eyes wide. "Ooooh ... how do you do that?" "Just hook your foot under it, and flip it up." He says absently, starting to rotate it over his his hand in slow circles. She watches closely, her eyes taking in every movement he makes ... "Looks impressive doesn't it?" He says, transferring the whirling staff to his other hand smoothly. She nods, wide eyed ... "It's not actually worth much, just something to impress people." He shrugs slightly, then stops "I'll teach you to be dangerous." She nods, her face intent. "Good. I need that. At least if ... " She breaks off and blushes. He arches his eyebrow slightly, watching. "Never mind," she says quickly. "We have a solar hour before you need to get ready ..." Drew looks at her for a moment, then begins spinning the stave again, lightly over the back of his hands. "Ready for what?" She looks at him ... but now her eyes move from his hands to his face. "Your coronation." Drew frowns slightly, then lunges, a short choppy thrust to the side of the practice target, then a downward sweep that would catch a man at his neck, the practice stave splinters as Drew strikes the target. He stops, and looks down at the broken stave. The Maiden looks at the stave, her eyes widening. "We have others ... " She breaks off and steps forward. "I'm sorry. But once today is done with, they will leave us alone for the longest time, really." Drew lets the stave clatter to the ground, and he reaches up to his left bicep, grasping a thin sliver of wood that's gone into his arm he pulls it out, blood welling slightly "It's ok." She winces and looks away, then kicks at the sandy ground with a bare foot. "'S not fair." "Life rarely is" Drew says wryly as he inspects the blood stained piece of wood. She draws a deep breath. "Grandmother said I have to give you a message." Drew remains silent, wondering what else could happen "It's a thing." She reaches into a pocket on her loose white blouson and hold out a clenched, slightly grubby hand to him. Drew looks at her hand, arching his eyebrow slightly She opens her hand, revealing a long thin dark green crystal, like nothing he has ever seen before ... which is not surprising, as it was not mined on Jiniver. "Nice," Drew says looking at it "Where'd she get it?" "I don't know," says the Maid. "She said you should keep it with you at all times." "And she told me its name." "And what is it's name?" She looks up at him. "Hope," she says simply. An hour later, as the priests come to robe him for the ceremony, Drew is still turning the green stone over in his hands. Drew quickly hides the stone in his hand, looking up. The young priest who leads them bows deeply. "Sire ... it is time for the coronation. We have brought your robes." He indicates them a little diffidently, remembering how Drew reacted the previous day. "Yes thank you, will you attend me?" The priest has been trained to deal smoothly with all circumstances ... but his jaw drops a little. "Certainly," he says, hurriedly recovering. The three priests work together, and Drew is soon arrayed in the white trousers and shirt, with the heavy red robe that goes over them, the great ceremonial gold sash about his waist. Drew runs his thumb across the green stone as it sits nestled in his palm. "We must go to the Great Hall now," says the young priest, and sets out along the corridor. The other two move to Drew's left and right ... a guard of honour ... but nevertheless a guard. Drew continues rubbing his thumb over hope, looking around, playing the tourist. He is led through great ancient halls, where the stone has been carved into massive fantasical pillars that dwarf the humans, gaudily painted in red and gold ... At last they come into the Great Hall itself ... filled with people .... a thousand priests ... ten thousand citizens. Drew raises his hand, his free hand, a gesture of recognition to all the people gathered. The High Priest, drawn to one side, watches through narrowed eyes as Drew is led to the dias. There stand three figure, clad in long flowing robes .... one white, one gold, one black. All are thickly veiled, but something in their posture proclaims them all female. The Queens. Drew gestures to the crowd still as he walks towards the dais, seeing no need to be rude. The High Priest steps forward and for a second they are face to face ... "Fine day isn't it?" Drew asks, smiling slightly The High Priest stares at him with suspicion. One of the Queens, the one in gold, shifts slightly, as though amused ... Drew says to the priest "Hey, life's too short, we should all have some more fun." He turns, and waves at the crowd again. The High Priests casts the sort of look at Drew that suggests that his life could be very short indeed .... Drew frowns at the man slightly, then collects himself with a visible effort. "I apologize, this is all rather, well, overwhelming." He pauses for a moment, then continues "Tell me, what must I do?" His tone is very respectful, even though the inner monologue in his head is running close to something like ~Just wait asshole, one day your gonna quit looking for it. That's gonna be the day I hit you with it, just wait and see.~ He smiles sheepishly at the priest, looking young, and slightly out of place. ] The High Priest nods slowly, thoughtfully, looking long and hard at Drew. Inwardly, he was revolving courses of action. The three bowls of wine still waited behind the veil of the altar; depending on which signal was chosen, either the pure wine, the drugged wine or the poison would be brought .... "Step forward onto the dias," he said aloud. "Then I shall place the crown on your head." He waited until Drew was in position ... then he lifted the heavy helmeted crown high in the air. There was a little expectant intake of breath ... such things are noticeable when ten thousand people do it together. Then he lowered the crown onto Drew's head ... not a difficult task when he was half a foot taller than the boy he was crowning. The High Priest had a magnificent voice, and he used it to its full ... "Behold the God-King of Jiniver!" There was a deafening roar of approval. The High Priest let it roll over him ... he loved this moment. He glanced at the back robed figure of the eldest Queen, wondering if she too felt the satisfaction he did as the nominal ruler was chosen and proclaimed. Then he turned to Drew again and boomed in a voice that could be heard in every recess in the room: "Take of the bread of Jiniver, o King and eat! Bless this bread by accepting and eating it!" "Take of the wine of Jiniver, o KIng and drink! Bless this wine by accepting and drinking it!" And he signalled to his chosen underling who ran over and returned with the salver containing a roll of the finest bread Jiniver's bakers could bake. And a golden bowl of the wine that the High Priest had finally chosen .... Drew picked up the bread, taking a bite of it, feeling the texture of the bread in his mouth. He took the golden bowl in his hand, containing the wine, and slowly raised it towards his lips. He tilted the bowl back, and let the wine barely tough his lips. He had never cared much for alcohol of any sort, and abstained from it entirely. With a final waive to the crowd he turned, and was led away from the crowd.... And down the ceremonial passage to a great gate which was opened, revealing the long white drapes of the Queen's great hall. In the distance, the black and white figures of the two Queens were disappearing ... Maiden and crone together. The gold Queen, still veiled, waited by the door. The temple priests bowed and withdrew, leaving Drew alone with her. At once she pulled back the veil, revealing a face not only beauty, but also full of a shrewd quick intelligence. She lifted a bowl from a stand near the door .. a small porcelain bowl. The practicality, the normality of the gesture seemed at odds with her beauty ... and the elegant formality of her ceremonial robes. "Here," she said abruptly. "Spit into this." She frowned slightly. "I trust my mother was correct when she said you weren't a fool. So you haven't eaten or drunk anything from the High Priest's hands. But I need traces so that, if he has drugged you, I can analyse what it is, and you can behave appropriately." "For a start, we need to know whether you are supposed to be conscious for the Council meeting this evening." "Now ... spit." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The High Priest watched him go ... An interesting response ... he had not seen its like. What did the Queens make of him? What would the Queens make of him? And what did he make of the Queens? A smile touched his thin lips. He remembered when he had first seen her ... so angry, so passionate. All that training ... and yet the fire burned still in her eyes, the anger that blazed out like a fire to scorch him ... How long was it since he had seen that forbidden face? Years, of course ... but how many? That last morning ... how he had cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips ... so carelessly ... thinking that they would have so many more days ... and nights ... oh those sweet nights. But instead he had walked into the confusion of old Carnac's death ... a rare death for a High Priest - old age. And within five days he was High Priest himself. What if he had yielded to temptation then? What if he had chosen not the way of the Priests, but the way of the Queens? Too late now ... It had been too late these twenty or more years ... He sighed as he removed the heavy and ornate robes. This afternoon there was to be a Council. But first ... Why not? It was rarely done, but not unprecedented. He himself had done it ... twelve years back. Surely she would not refuse him! He turned to Avroc. "Tell the Wise Woman that I wish to consult with her ... in my room." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Drew arches an eyebrow, looking at the "beautiful" woman before him. He spits into the bowl. Looking at her with a spark of humor in his eye he says "Hello, I'm Drew, it's nice to meet you too." He offers his hand to her to shake, smiling slightly. She took his hand ... a slight look of surprise on her face. For the first time she appeared to consider him fully, and her face suddenly became thoughtful. "Tell me," she bgan ... then broke off as one of the silent servitors came padding along the corridor. "Yes, what is it?" The servitor made a few rapid gestures with her fingers. The Lady watched slosely and her lovely violet eyes narrowed as she frowned, the full lips almost pouting. "Damnation," she said angrily in response, then turned to Drew. "The High Priest wants to see my mother. They are old ... " she hesitated, as if searching for the correct word ... "old acquaintances." She gave a little nod. "I have to go ... but I really should test this ... " She held up the bowl ... and then looked at Drew speculatively. "My mother - whose opinion I value - says you are no fool. Would you like to prove that to me, and incidentally be the means of possibly saving your own skin?" She looked at him, her finely marked eyebrows arched. "You must leave so that your mother may see the high priest? That is interesting." Drew raises his eyebrow slightly, a look of interest on his face. He smiles slightly, then says "And what may I do for you that will save my own skin?" She considered him thoughtfully. "If you will allow me to advise you ... my mother has taken a liking to you, something that does not often happen. Do not pry too closely into her affairs ... and this pleasant state of things may continue. If you displease her ... " She smiled thinly. "It is as well to bear in mind that the High Priest is not the only one on Jiniver or even in this palace with access to poisons. And my mother is your best protection." Even as she was speaking she was moving rapidly through the corridor, without even looking at him, as though expecting him to keep pace with her. "As for saving your own skin ... there are certain tests to be carried out on your sputum to establish which, if any, poisons you have already been fed by the High Priest. There is a council meeting this afternoon; we need to know if you are expected to be dead, gripped with a violent headache, having your guts or your bowels ripped apart, suffering from full or partial paralysis, prone to spasms or ... indeed ... in rude and disgustingly good health. You can then modify your behaviour accordingly." "We must trust that he chose not to kill you. That would be slightly harder to fake. Not impossible, of course. But rather dull for you .... to live underground until we are ready ... or until it becomes impossible to keep you alive ... " She looked at him, amused. "I think you can see why such knowledge might materially affect your well being ... In here." She pushed opened the door to lead him into a room unique on Jiniver. "This is something called a laboratory," she said. "It is not, despite sharing some characteristics, a alchemist's studio ... Here the quest is not for arcane nonsense; it is all directed to a practical end. Practical ends, perhaps I should say. If you look on that bench you will see six small bowls, each containing a liquid. Also a pipette ... that's that long glass tube with the rubber bulb at the end." "You will fill the pipette with the content of the bowl and put a small squeeze of the bulb in each bowl ... You will then observe any changes that take place in the colour of the liquid already there, and write them down on the paper next to each of the bowls. If the sixth turns black rather than red or gold, there's no need to make a note. You can panic instead. You will be dead within a half hour." "Now, I must go. I shall see you again soon and ... if you are lucky ... you will see me." Drew grins slightly, and begins to follow her instructions, his mind working around the principles of what is going on that would cause the reactions. He smiles widely when understanding finally dawns on him. He wondered how long he would be there by himself in the lab. He smiled again, and began to inspect the room, hoping it would be a good while before he was interrupted.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The High Priest waited in his ceremonial offices a little impatiently. Was she doing this deliberately, he wondered. Making him wait as an assertion of power. In her place, that was what he would do ... But he believed her motives were seldom so clear ... so unvarnished. And now she approached at last, still dressed in the ceremonial black. Unhurried, taking her time as she moved slowly through the great room towards him. "Areven my dear," he said blandly. "How delightful of you to hurry so to see me. I am so anxious to discover your impressions of our new King." He stood up from his chair of office, and moved to the low table set with decanters of wine. "Will you join me in a goblet? I believe we have you favourite vintage ... " He turned and smiled at her. "Must you wear the veil? Such old, old friends as we are. Such dear friends." "No," she said. "I don't have to wear the veil." She left it on place as she lifted a sealed flagon of wine from the recesses of her robe. "Your faviourite vintage, I believe. I have brought it as a gift. Let us drink it together." The two flagons stood on the table before them. Neither made any move to touch them. "You wanted this meeting, old friend," she said. "Was it really just to ascertain my impression of our new King?" She shrugged. "He's a boy, an untaught youth. Probably brighter than the general run ... He knows his life is sacrificed ... and he sees no glory in that sacrifice. A year with the three of us ... he does not hold it worth the price. That argues a measure of intelligence." She smiled a little drily. "Now, shall I leave you? Or do you have something else to say to me?" He looked at her closely. "Merely a little thing. The trouble with the settlements at the edge of the Great Northern Desert. I intend to propose in Council that we end the rebellion and set an example at the same time. Eradication. What do you say?" She arched her brows. "You know I never interfere with politics .... that will be up to you." He allowed himself a small cynical smile. "Well quite. And you have no influence over the King?" Her smile was one of genuine amusement. "Ny dear old friend, you do over-estimate my powers! They are young and stubborn men ... convinced of their own strength and power. These days, I really have very little to do with them." She thought about Drew and said slowly. "This one is ... unusual, as you have observed. More than most, I believe he will choose his own way ... " She smiled. "And that way may well be yours.. He may be so sunk in apathy that he will let you have your own way in all things. The perfect king." He knew she was mocking him, but made no sign as she rose. "We should meet again," he said. "Such old friends as we are." "And shall doubtless continue friends apart," she said immediately. For a long time after she was down, he remained still, apparently gazing at the two flagons on the table ... his and hers. But his thoughts were far elsewhere. At last, as the shadows fell and the hour of the Council approached her rose, and strode to the table. With a great swing of his arm he swept the flagons to the floor ... to smash and spill their red contents in all directions .... Like blood .... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The laboratory door opened and the Lady walked in briskly. But it was a very different figure from the lush beauty arrayed in gold that had spoken to Drew after the ceremony. Not she wore a tight black jump-suit, practical and sleekly elegant. Her hair was drawn back in a neat plait. "Well," she said. "Mother is back. What results did you get on the tests?" Drew looks up from his inspection of some odd piece of equipment that he could decipher no function for. He gestured to the open notebook laying on the edge of the counter near the entrance, saying "I wrote everything down in that book, so, you tell me." He goes back to the inspection of the instrument, completely fascinated by it's construction. She nodded briefly and moved to the book. "Nice work," she said approvingly. "I could make a scientist of you ... if you should live so long." She turned her attention to the book. "Sixth one clear? That's good. One ... yellow ... good. Two ... green ... that's fine." Her voice died away as she checked the findings. Finally she looked up, and her expression was amused. "Tell me, did the fourth one really turn bright pink? That's ... unexpected." Drew looks up, frowning at her "No, I falsified the information just so you wouldn't know what I've eaten." He shakes his head slightly at the stupidity of it, then goes on "Why don't you tell me why it's 'interesting'" He looks at her, seemingly annoyed. "Not 'interesting'," she corrected, and she was now smiling broadly. "'Unexpected'. If you had drink any of that, you would have had a nasty taste in your mouth." "The wine was corked," she said. "He clearly didn't waste a decent vintage on you." She closed the book. "Well, there's no reason why you can't attend the Council Meeting this afternoon. Other than a disinclination for the High Priest's company which, I assure you, we all share." For the first time she appeared to register the device he was studying. Her violet eyes widened slightly. "Tell me," she said, her voice sounding a little strained. "What do you make of that?" |
