Queen of Stars (12 page)

Chapter 14

R
igel was probably the only person other than the queen and Consort Elgomaisa who did not look around. He saw Izar’s elfin eyes open impossibly wide and that was all the confirmation he needed. He put on his helmet to conceal an irrepressible grin and strode back up the steps. There was going to be a precedence problem in a moment. There were going to be all sorts of problems in a moment, but only one concerned him. Although Izar should not be present at all by the normal protocol of protocol, the sovereign could make and unmake rules as she wished, and Talitha had her reasons for putting him in full view, with Rigel as his guard. But now the imp had to make way for an adult Naos, whose rank would be infinitely greater.

Any words Rigel spoke on the steps would be broadcast throughout the court, but fortunately Izar was sharp enough to guess what Rigel’s gestures meant. Grinning broadly, he walked forward to his new place, one step lower, and Rigel brought his chair down for him.

The court buzzed with excitement and approval. The appearance of another Naos changed the situation completely. In the eyes of the starfolk, Talitha was centuries too young to rule and she had accepted the throne only because Electra had refused to give it to the odious Vildiar. Now she could give the Starlands to Kurhah. He would expect as much. At an age of around three thousand, he would be quite acceptable and could rule for a few centuries until Talitha matured. Vildiar would become his problem, not hers. No one would notice or care if she slipped away to enjoy a private life in some quiet domain to raise her son and cherish her tweenling lover.

The approaching jade throne floated close enough for Rigel to study the elf aboard. Naos Kurhah had opalescent hair and eyes, of course, and wore his three millennia well. No starborn would ever look old, yet there was a gauntness to him, a weariness, but also a serenity that others lacked. He did not steer his throne to the place Izar had just vacated, but to the far side, the place of honor, presently occupied by a furiously scowling Vildiar.

“Your manners were shitty when you were an imp, sonny,” the newcomer said. “They haven’t improved one bit. I am six times your age, so make way.”

In smoldering silence, Vildiar floated his throne across to the other side and Kurhah took his place.

The older Naos rose and bowed to the queen, then sat down again.

Talitha gave him a regal nod. “You are most welcome, starborn. We had thought that you had faded.”

“Very close, my dear,” the Naos said. “But then distinguished starfolk began dying like earthlings and I became intrigued. I decided to wait around and see what would happen next. Such a mistake! Look where it has gotten me!”

“It is unfortunate that you were not present when poor Queen Electra returned to the stars.” Talitha smiled sweetly and Rigel’s heart dropped to the floor. She wasn’t going to abdicate. Once a queen, always a queen. If anything, she probably saw Kurhah as a source of protection. She had tasted the royal jelly and she was safe from Vildiar’s assassins as long as the older Naos stood between him and the throne.

“Even the most prescient of us could not have foreseen her tragic ending,” Kurhah said sadly. “Or the egregious revelations that have forever blighted her memory.” He glanced briefly in Rigel’s direction.

“So it was you, Starborn Kurhah, who sabotaged the reversion staff?”

“It was. Of course I—”

“Why?”
roared the queen. “What authority did you think you had to kidnap and endanger a senior officer of my government?”

Kurhah shrugged, seeming more amused than threatened. “A
halfling
? No halfling has ever been appointed to an office of cabinet rank in the Starlands before now, my dear. Of course one must overlook and forgive minor errors of judgment committed by one so young in the first shock of a totally unexpected accession to the throne. I sought to provide you with a face-saving escape from your own indiscretion; that is all. Naturally I did not expect your dear son to be involved. As soon as I discovered that he was, I ensured his return to Canopus. We cannot blame the child for losing his own staff, but we can, and indeed must, censure the total incompetence of the one who dragged him into extreme danger, namely that same half-breed you—”

Gong!
A blast of sound thundered through the court, making even Rigel wince. The effect on the starborn, with their more sensitive hearing, must have been much worse.

“Silence!” the queen roared. “You have admitted to several breeches of criminal law and your slanders against the throne may constitute lèse-majesté. We shall take counsel on the matter. You will wait upon us this evening at our pleasure and we shall discuss the matter further.”

Talitha was flushed and furious. Kurhah was a loving grandparent tolerating a rambunctious infant with fond amusement. Vildiar yawned.

Glaring like a teacher trying to restore order in a rowdy classroom, the queen said, “Now that we have solved the sabotage problem, Chancellor, you may proceed to the next item.”

Celaeno bowed and beckoned Pleione over for a quick conference.

The next item would obviously be Vildiar, who was pretending to have lost interest in the proceedings as he smiled down at Izar, one wide step below him. Izar was trying not to notice, but he was hunched over on his chair with his fists clenched, trembling. Standing directly behind him, Rigel could neither do nor say anything to comfort him. What sort of a father so terrified his own child?

Pleione was ready. “Prince Vildiar, you were required to produce halflings Alkes, Aludra, Benetnash, Botein, Hadar, Mintaka, and Sadalbari.”

Vildiar’s elongated, pale face turned to regard her as a keen gardener would inspect a bad infestation of spider mites. “I was, and I have complied as well as I could at such absurdly short notice. Those that we were able to locate are waiting at the back, but the guards have failed to keep a center aisle clear.”

“Bring forth the halflings,” Pleione commanded. At the far end of the court, a drum began to beat.

“You must understand,” the prince continued, addressing her but obviously intending his words for Talitha, “that Phegda is very large, with thousands of subdomains. To find particular individuals and transport them here is bound to take time.”

A disturbance at the far end of the court was approaching through the crowd.

“How many of them did you bring?” the counselor demanded.

The giant pondered. “I believe the last count I was given was eighty-six.”

Now the angry flush had reappeared on the queen’s face. Izar twisted around to give Rigel a look of horror. Prince Kurhah was barely veiling his contempt. Rigel tried to remain impassive inside his helmet, but he could tell that Vildiar was about to win another round.

The disturbance was now recognizable as a wedge of sphinxes driving ruthlessly through the spectators. Behind them, herded by centaurs at a fast trot, ran a pack of humanoids. By the time they emerged into the cockpit area before the steps, they were distinguishable as halflings, young and old, male and female. Those who looked most elfin wore the usual loincloth; others were shrouded like Bedouin, with only their faces showing. The centaurs lined them up in front of the spectators.

“How many of these are your own spawn?” the queen demanded.

“That offensive remark is unworthy of the high office you hold, Talitha, but if you or one of your starborn minions will dare to repeat the accusation on the Star of Truth, I will respond.” When no one volunteered, Vildiar shrugged. “Hundreds of millions of mudlings live in Phegda and probably as many starborn. Halflings happen, and if they happen within my domain I see that they are reported to me and treated as the law requires.”

Halflings happened because they were necessary, and not just for guard duty or violence. Halflings happened because the mudlings who did the rough work of the Starlands made competent herders, servants, gardeners, farmhands, and so on, but they needed halflings to supervise them. Halflings had more drive and intelligence and happened to be conveniently sterile, so they had no dynastic ambitions. They had few rights in law, either, and the ninety or so here presented all looked terrified.

Vildiar smiled, teeth like twin wood saws. “Alkes was the first you requested, I believe? Halfling Alkes, step forward one pace.”

Three males and two females stepped forward. All elves and most halflings were born with a star name, and there were only so many named stars. Repetitions were inevitable.

“When I was forced to live in Phegda as your partner,” the queen said with cold anger, “I met halflings named Alkes, Aludra, Benetnash, Botein, Hadar, Mintaka, and Sadalbari, among many others, all of whom claimed you as their father. Where are those halflings?”

“It is a wise halfling who knows his own father, my dear. I am sure—”

“Do not call me that, you insolent lout!”

“
Your Majesty
. I am sure that most of the rabble you see down there make the same claim whenever they think it’s safe to do so.”

“You know which halflings I mean!”

“Yes, I do,” Vildiar said with a chuckle. “But I have no idea where any of them are now.”

Of course not. Hadar ran the dirty tricks department.

Pleione looked helplessly at Talitha. What was needed now was for some starborn to enter the Star and announce that Vildiar fathered halflings who killed starfolk for his benefit. But no one knew enough to dare make that accusation as a matter of fact, and repeating a rumor would not count.

The queen sprang up. “Court dismissed!” She went striding off around the throne and disappeared behind the great monolith. Consort Elgomaisa strode after her like a hound.

The first court of Queen Talitha’s reign had been a total disaster.

Chapter 15

E
lgomaisa?”
Izar said in tones of deepest scorn as they were going down the steps. “In all the Starlands she couldn’t find anyone better than him?”

Rigel had never met the new royal consort. “Not good?”

“He calls me ‘Impy’! And he plays the zither!”

“Horrible. I don’t know which is worse.”

“Both!” Izar said firmly.

The crowd was clearing amazingly quickly, draining out through the sides of the courtyard like water from a sieve. Starfolk crowds left no litter behind them. Fomalhaut was standing apart, on the lowermost step, and the flame in his golden eyes was a summons. Rigel sent Izar off with Tyl and Thabit and headed over to the mage.

He bowed. “My lord?”

“Manifestly the political paroxysms have abated, halfling. Another Naos stands between the upstart Vildiar and the throne. The queen’s council will responsively tender its advisement that she relinquish the throne to Prince Kurhah, as a more seasoned ruler. The now-deceased Regent-heir Kornephoros grievously erred in the license he allowed Prince Vildiar, but the new king will swiftly exact retribution for his transgressions.”

Indeed? If Fomalhaut really believed all that, then his reputation as a prophet had to be based on a few lucky guesses.

“I would never question your assurances, my lord.” Rigel waited, knowing there would be more and having a fair idea of what it would be.

“So the termination of your assignment to defend Izar Starling may be considered imminent. My altruistic but precipitous action in including you when I inverted our deceased honored monarch, Queen Electra, back to the Starlands fortuitously created a situation neither commendable nor propitious. I acknowledge a moral obligation to rectify the current circumstance by restoring you to the continuum of your birth with adequate provision for your future prosperity.”

Just as expected. “My lord is most generous. I shall most happily accept this heartwarming offer as soon as I am assured that the Vildiar danger is truly past.”

The golden eyes narrowed. “You dare to set terms? Meaning what, precisely?”

“Meaning that I must either see his lifeless body or know that he has been shut up in the Dark Cells for a thousand years or more.”

“You are insolent!”

“That is not my intention, my lord. On Earth we have a word for persons like Prince Vildiar, and that is
sociopath
. To protect society, many sociopaths must be confined, because there is no treatment for their condition.

“Furthermore, I saw no sign today that Her Majesty is, or ever will be, willing to abdicate in favor of Prince Kurhah. As her head of security, and based on his recent activities, I must regard him as yet another threat to her safety. Thus I humbly ask your assistance, as court mage, in keeping a close watch on his movements from now on.”

“Spy on Naos Kurhah? It is unthinkable! Seancing Earth from the Starlands is possible, but seancing within the Starlands is not.”

“Truly?” Rigel asked softly. “I was told once that it was illegal. Why make it illegal if it isn’t possible? Kurhah obviously has been spying on you, and he trespassed in your domain with illegal intent.”

The elf bared his shark teeth, spun on his heel, and strode away.

Saddened, but trying not to show it, Rigel joined Izar, Tyl, Thabit, and Avior. The multitude was still steadily draining away through the gaps between the monoliths, and soon they would have the whole great courtyard to themselves.

“I am sorry your bonding ceremony had to wait,” Rigel told Avior. “But I expect that a few more days of sightseeing might help you decide whether or not you want to stay in the Starlands.”

Without the grotesque wig, with just a cloth framing her face, she was a very typical tweenling, larger than most and more muscular.

“I think I do want to stay, but I’d like to see more of the world.”

“Remember, the Starlands aren’t a world. They’re ‘a dimensional matrix transformation of the space-time continuum with conservation of supersymmetry.’ Or so the Minotaur told me.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea.” He caught himself smiling at her more widely than he should. Now that Talitha had taken a consort, his fruitless romance with her was over, and any sexy woman was of interest. Avior was extremely sexy, in spite of her bizarre hangups.
In spite of
, not
because of
, he hoped. The idea of a rape fantasy repelled him. Orang and Utan were watching with amusement, and so was Izar. Before he could think of something more to say, Avior did.

“You hinted that I could help you in your feud with that Vildiar character.”

Her father.

“Yes I did. There’s only one way to…But let’s wait until you’ve made your decision, and gone through the formalities. There’s less hurry now that another Naos stands between him and the throne.”

“Hey, pothead!” A female harpy perched on the back of Izar’s chair was yelling at him.

“You mean me?”

“Of course I do. Your former lover wants you to take that delinquent brat of hers to Segin right away. I hear her new consort is going to geld you, just to be on the safe side.”

“Go away.” Rigel turned his back on it.

“What does
geld
mean?” Izar asked.

“Tell you later. Avior, let’s talk again in a few days. Tyl and Thabit here will look after you, if that’s all right?”

The twins exchanged glances and one of them muttered, “Woof! That’s a tough assignment, Marshal.”

“I’m sure I will be in good hands,” Avior said calmly.

“I’m certain you will be,” Rigel agreed. Four of them.

Segin was the island of the merfolk, yet another royal subdomain. Any portal in Canopus would take them there. When they arrived, they stepped through onto an acre or so of sand as white and soft as talcum powder, baking-hot on the feet. Segin was an example of the elves’ imitation of human calendar art, in this case a cliché tropical evening. The sun had just set, leaving one side of the sky smoky red, while the other was deep indigo, speckled with a few early stars. Curving palm trees waved their fronds in a wind much too warm by elfin standards, while waters of an incredibly azure lagoon lapped at the beach. The royal barge
Saidak
floated at anchor there, but without her figurehead. Ocean surf boomed endlessly on a reef a few hundred yards out.

Yelling in agony at the heat, Izar danced down to the water and plunged in. Rigel bounded after him, always ready for a swim, although he was elf enough to find the Segin lagoon too warm. The floor was an ever-shifting mosaic of rippling light and darting, multicolored fish.

Izar headed for the reef, arms flailing. Long before he reached it, Saidak surfaced in front of him with a great bellow of welcome.

A moment after that her husband, Sertan, appeared alongside her. Like hers, his human part was at least double life size, and his fish half was as long again. Sertan had probably been inspired by some image of Neptune, because he sported a huge golden beard and curling locks that floated around his head even when they were wet. All he lacked was a crown and a trident. A shoal of merkids popped up around him, ranging from adolescents to the fishy equivalent of toddlers, all welcoming Izar with shouts of glee.

Rigel stopped to tread water and exchange greetings.

“Is the queen here?” he asked.

“Indeed she is!” Saidak boomed, oversized eyes flashing. “And Elgomaisa with her. I swear he is the ugliest elf I know. He has black hair! I’d say he had some mudling blood in him, if that were possible. He’s to have visiting privileges from now on. If this means she’s jilting you, tweenling, then she’s even stupider than I thought she was.” Saidak was nothing if not forthright.

“No, I have never been more than her loyal servant, so she’s not jilting me. I swear that that’s the truth, so please don’t hint otherwise! Naos Kurhah?”

“We’re to admit him when he arrives,” Sertan said, cutting off some no-doubt toxic comment from his wife. “I think he visited here in my grandfather’s time. Or perhaps great-grandfather’s. And Her Majesty is coming! It will be a pleasure and an honor to have Segin acting as the sovereign’s principal residence again.”

Rigel had not been warned about that. Talitha had a hundred palaces at her disposal, and he and Izar would live wherever she did. Personally Rigel disliked Segin but professionally he found the news not unwelcome. In its way, Segin was as secure as Castle Escher, but Rigel would have to think about how it might be made even more so. Izar would miss Turais, but, being practically amphibious, he’d be happy enough. He had already been towed away by laughing merkids.

Rigel was growing tired of treading water. “Then if you will kindly take me to Her Majesty, I will find out what she wants of me.”

“I know what she needs of you!” Saidak always had to have the last word.

Clasping Rigel’s arm in a hand that easily closed all the way around it, Sertan towed him out to the reef.

“Ready?” he said, which was Rigel’s cue to suck in a chestful of air. Down they went, to be swept by a returning wave through a tunnel, out into the ocean. The outside wall of the reef was a giant sponge of multicolored coral, weeds, anemones, and rainbows of fish. By himself, Rigel would have been helpless to resist the surging to-and-fro pressure of the waves overhead, but his guide held him firmly, pulling him down, down, down, into cooler, darker water. Pale blue became bluer and greener and finally almost black, but the merman knew where he was going, and before Rigel drowned—although not very long before—he was swept into the great hall of Segin Palace and released.

For a moment he stood there on the white-sand floor, gulping in what felt like air. It behaved like air, in that he could shake the water out of his ears and walk and talk. But it was water to Sertan, who floated beside him like a giant shark with an elfin grin. And it was water to the shoals of bright-colored fish that swept around, to the gently waving weeds, and to the many mermaid and merman servants. Once in a while a bubble would waver upward to the roof. Yet Rigel knew that when he stepped through the one-way exit portal to dry land anywhere else in the royal domain, no flood would accompany him.

The great hall was a cathedral-sized cavern of coral, illuminated by pale blue-green light that filtered down from openings far overhead. Even the floor was slightly rippled, so there were no flat surfaces or right angles anywhere. Its walls bore stairs and balconies for the use of landlubbers, and corridors led off to scores of rooms. Rigel had never explored a fraction of it, but he would have to become familiar with all of it, and quickly, if he was still in charge of royal security. Yet he could not imagine how Hadar’s assassins would ever penetrate this palace’s outer defenses. How did you bribe or intimidate merfolk?

A swirl of red fish shot past him. A starfish was exploring his toes.

“Anything else you need right now, Marshal?” Sertan inquired with a hint of a smile behind his great beard.

“Not right now, thank you, except…what happens if strangers come through the portal to the island?”

“If they’re not on the approved list we leave them there to die of thirst.”

There was no fresh water on the island. The portal up there was one-way; guests could come in but not out.

“But they might live long enough to ambush whoever arrives next?”

Evidently that had not occurred to the big fellow; Sertan was not much smarter than his wife. He frowned. “What should we do? Send for the kraken?”

“If I’m here, perhaps you could just come and tell me? I’ll bring Halflings Tyl and Thabit to live here, too. They’re my deputies. Um, yes?”

A young merman named Porrima was hovering nearby—literally, for his tail fins did not quite reach the floor—and staring at Rigel with very worried green eyes, almost level with his own. So, a half-grown merman.

“Rigel Tweenling, Starborn Elgomaisa gave orders that you were to be taken to him as soon as you arrived.”

“Then lead the way. Sertan, my thanks. We must share a flagon of wine sometime soon.”

He followed Porrima into the depths of the palace. Their route had more turns and twists than a moray eel, more stairs than a lighthouse. Doors in Segin were round, like portholes, and a label above each opening displayed the owner’s name in the starfolk’s ornate, many-colored syllabic script, which Rigel now read at about a second-grade level. The door he was led to stood open and the unmistakable twanging of a zither was drifting from it. Porrima floated in.

“The halfling, starborn.”

The music stopped. “Good. Carry on with what you were doing earlier.”

Rigel entered and found himself in a garden, walled around by multicolored coral, lit by the blue-green sea surface far above, and populated with starfish, lobsters, sea anemones, darting shoals of fish, and all the tourist-delighting denizens of a reef. He was also face-to-snout with a shark, a great white larger than he was.