"Long live Tyre!" the first man said.
"Quiet, you fool. Just be ready to act tonight."
And with that the two soldiers returned to their fencing exercise with renewed vigor. Mack finished adjusting his boot. He straightened up and got out of there. Everything was working out for him. He had detected this plot against Marco, and would tell the Venetian about it as soon as he finished his conversation with Princess Irene.
detected this plot against Marco, and would tell the Venetian about it as soon as he finished his conversation with Princess Irene.
5 Princess Irene was in her chambers, was decent, and she was pleased to admit the ambassador from Ophir.
"You mus' unnerstan'," she said, in broken Mongolian, leading Mack over the many carpets to an interior room, "I likee visit but I no speaka da Mongol lingo so good."
"That is precisely why I have come to call on you, Princess," Mack said, in flawless Pushtu. "Since I have some slight proficiency in your native tongue, I thought you might like to converse a bit apace ere it gets to be banquet time, if you know what I mean?"
The princess drew in her breath sharply, because hearing her own native language spoken by this yellow-haired young man with a flawless accent and with all the particles in place and no breathing signs omitted and with full value given to the fricatives was more wondrous to her than seeing violets bloom in the January snow, her previous high point for new and unusual experiences.
"The dear old mother tongue!" she cried. "You speak it like a native!"
'To whatever small extent as might please Your Highness," Mack said, using the subjunctive as though he'd been born to it.
"How delightful that I no longer need to speak in broken Mongolian," the princess said, "for it annoys me to have to display myself as an ignorant person when actually I have a degree in Ophirese literature as well as in that of Kush and Sheba."
"I haven't read a lot of that stuff, myself," Mack said. "But I know it's important."
"What is more important is that you can talk to me," the princess said. "And, what is even more important, I can talk to you. Come here, sit down, have a fig canape and a glass of palm wine, tell me about yourself. What are you doing here in Peking?"
Mack allowed himself to be seated on a low divan with plenty of brightly colored pillows. The princess Irene sat down beside him. She was a tall pale blonde, with not very interesting shoulders, and with eyes of an ambiguous sea green color. Her manner was one of imperfectly controlled hysteria. Bracelets jangled as she gestured. Mack ate a date from a nearby bowl, hoping to calm himself.
"They brought me here from the Land of the High Flags, and eventually decided I must marry this shah in Persia," Irene said. "Do you think that's fair? Daddy promised I could marry whomever I pleased. Then he changed everything because the great Khan needed a princess of my line. First I was to marry a Vigur, but he was poisoned."
"Among nobles," Mack said, "a marriageable woman's role in society is often to cement some treaty.
What's the matter with the shah of Persia? Sounds like a good match to me."
"I have seen his portrait," Irene said. "He is fat. Old. Ugly. He has a cruel mouth. He looks impotent. He seems unintelligent. He speaks only Persian."
"I don't want to hold anything against him," Irene said, shuddering. "If his portrait turns me off, imagine what the man himself would do! I would never bear him any children. His line would die out."
Mack nodded, wondering if that would make any difference to future generations. Yes, it would probably make a difference. Everything did. But what difference would making a difference make? They hadn't told him how to figure out that one.
"Try one of these candied figs," Irene said. "I'll bet they're not as sweet as you are."
"Princess!" cried Mack, for, hardened man of the world though he was, or at least fancied himself to be, the open invitation in the princess' voice shook him down to the upturned toes of his soft leather boots.
"I have to be direct," Irene said. "I might not get another chance." She moved close to him and put her arms around his neck. "What did you say your name was, cutie?"
"Johann Faust, at your service. But Princess—"
"Johnny, you have won me over with your sweet tongue. Don't struggle so, I'm trying to get this unlaced."
She was referring to the tight bodice that cinched in her tiny waist. Mack tried to escape from her, but he sank into the soft pillows of the divan, and the princess seemed to be all over him, simultaneously unlacing her bodice, stroking his hair, taking off her shoes, unfastening his doublet, and eating a candied fig. Mack had no fear of aggressive women, but he was turned off and frightened by the circumstances, which were dangerous. He wondered if Princess Irene had ever done this sort of thing before, and if those she had done it with had been caught, and if so, what had been done to them. And for a fleeting moment it seemed to him that Marco could have warned him about this.
But before he could pursue this thought, there was a sudden sound as of doors opening. And Mack struggled to his feet and saw that a young woman had appeared in the princess' chambers, though how she had gotten there he could not say. The young woman was dark, and beautiful, and clearly not human.
"Who are you?" Mack quavered.
"I am Ylith, a worker in the forces of Good, and a certified observer for the contest. And you, Dr. Faust, are up to no good at all."
CHAPTER 6
Ylith had been doing good deeds in one of Earth's alternative and highly provisional alternate time-lines when Michael had paged her on the angel hot line. Ylith had come at once. She liked being an angel of the Good, even though she was still in training. The main difficulty with life in the Good was that there seemed nothing to do. She had gotten Hermes Trismegistus to put her into this other time-line so she could practice Good Works. It was nice, but of course it wasn't the real Earth so she was happy when Michael had paged her.
"Ah, there, Ylith," Michael said. "I've been wanting to see how you were getting on."
"Fine," Ylith said. "The only thing is, I'd like to be doing something."
"That's the spirit!" Michael said. "As it turns out, we have a job for you. You know our great contest between Light and Dark?"
"Of course," Ylith said. "Nobody in the spirit world talks of anything else."
"Well, both sides in the contest are allowed observers. That's to make sure no one takes advantage of the situation or coaches the contestant in what he is to do. I'd like you to go to Earth and check on what Mephistopheles and Mack are doing."
"You got it," Ylith said.
"Here, take this." He handed her an amulet. "Why, Michael!" Ylith said.
"It's not meant as a present," Michael said. "That is an amulet which confers invisibility on its holder. It will allow you to observe things unobserved." "Okay. See you later!" She vanished. She caught up with Mack just at the end of his time in Constantinople. Utilizing the charm of invisibility she saw Mack and Irene together on the couch, and came to her own conclusions.
Princess Irene, as stunned as anyone by the sudden appearance of the black-haired witch with the feathery haircut and the virginal yet somehow provocative angel costume, said, "Oh, my goodness! What is going to happen?"
"Nothing to you," Ylith said. "But I need to hold converse with this fellow." She indicated Mack, who edged away but didn't quite do what he wished to do, which was to run like crazy from this probably demented spirit. "However," Ylith said, "I will take him away, for what I have to say to him is not for innocent ears." She turned to Mack and said, "Come with me, young fellow," in tones that brooked no interference.
She led Mack into the hall and down the corridor to the next chamber, which was identical to Irene's but untenanted, awaiting the arrival of another monoglot princess from another tiny country. There Ylith took a chair, and, sitting with her back very straight, stared at Mack, who stood before her like an abashed schoolboy. She said, "Dr. Faust, I am very disappointed in you."