"I did not call to inquire the state of your emotions, Gosso. I am not interested in rhodomontade."
Gosso's voice became profoundly deep. "Why, then, have you called?"
"I find the circumstances of Kaiark Jochaim's death peculiar. In the melée of mirk-men and Scharde troops, he commanded from the rear. Did he turn his back to the flight? Unlikely. So then, who among your mirk-men killed the Scharde Kaiark?"
"No one has asserted such a triumph," rambled Gosso. "I made careful inquiry, to no avail."
"A provocative situation."
"From your point of view, indeed." Gosso's eyelids relaxed slightly; he moved back into his chair. "Where were you during the raid?"
"I was far away - at Numenes and the Connatic's Palace. I have learned many new things, and one of them is this the raids and onslaughts between Gorgetto and Scharrode amount to mutual catastrophe. I propose a truce."
Gosso's ropy mouth drew back to display his teeth, not a grin, so Efraim presently realized, but a grimace of reflection.
"What you say is true enough," said Gosso at last. "There are few old men either in Gorgetto or Scharrode. Still, everyone must die sooner or later, and if the warriors of Gorgetto are denied the raiding of Scharrode, how will I keep them occupied?"
"I have troubles of my own. No doubt you can find a way."
Gosso cocked his head to the side. "My warriors may protest such an insipid existence. The raids drain their energies, and life is easier for me."
Efraim said shortly: "You can notify those who question your authority that I am resolved to end the raids. I can offer honorable peace; or I can assemble all my forces and totally destroy Gorgetto. As I study the Pandects I see that this is within my capabilities, if at the cost of many lives. Most of these many lives will be Gorget, inasmuch as we command the heights with our sails. It appears to me that the first choice makes the fewest demands upon everybody."
Gosso gave a sardonic caw of laughter: "So it might appear. But never forget we have rejoiced in the slaughter of Schardes for a thousand years. In Gorgetto a boy does not become a man until he kills his Scharde. Still, you seem to be serious and I will consider the matter."
The Salon of Sherdas and Private Receptions occupied the third level of the squat Arjer Skyrd Tower. Instead of the modestly proportioned chamber Efraim had expected, he found a hall seventy feet long and forty feet wide, with a floor of black and white marble blocks. Six tall windows admitted floods of that curious olive-green light characteristic of umber passing into green rowan. Marble pilasters broke the wall into a series of bays, color-washed a pale russet. In each stood a massive urn three feet tall carved from black brown porphyry: the product of a cogence. The urns contained white sand and plumes of dry grass, without odor. A table ten feet wide and twenty feet long supported four etiquette screens. At each side of the table a chair had been placed.
Agnois hurried forward. "Your Force has arrived a trifle early; our arrangements, I fear to say, are incomplete."
"I came early intentionally." Efraim inspected the chamber, them the table. He asked in a soft voice: "The Kaiark Jochaim frequented this salon?"
"Indeed, Force, when the company was not numerous."
"Which place was reserved for him?"
"Yonder, Force, is the Kaiark's place." Agnois indicated the far side of the table.
Efraim, now accustomed to the unconscious signals which indicated Agnois' moods, eyed him attentively. "That is the chair used by Kaiark Jochaim? It is precisely like the others; they are identical."
Agnois hesitated. "These are the chairs ordered out by the Noble Singhalissa."
Efraim controlled his voice with an effort. "Did I not instruct you to disregard Singhalissa's orders?"
"I recall something of the sort, Force," said Agnois lamely, "but I tend to obey her by reflex, especially in small matters such as this."
"Do you consider this a small matter?"
Agnois grimaced and licked his lips. "I had not analyzed it along such lines."
"But the chair is not that chair customarily used by the Kaiark?"
"No, Your Force."
"In fact, it is a chair quite unsuitable to the dignity of a Kaiark - especially under the present conditions."
"I suppose that I must agree with you, Force."
"So again, Agnois, you have at worst conspired, at best cooperated, with Singhalissa in her attempts to make me a buffoon and so diminish my authority."
Agnois uttered a cry of anguish. "By no means, Force! I acted in all innocence!"
"Set the table to rights, instantly!"
Agnois turned a side-look toward Lorcas. "Shall I seat five, Your Force?"
"Leave it at four."
The offending chair was removed; another more massive, inlaid with carnelians and turquoises, was brought in. "Notice, Force," said Agnois effusively, "the small mesh here by your ear, by which the Kaiark can receive messages and advice."
"Very good," said Efraim. "I will expect you to stand in concealment and advise me as to etiquette and custom."
"With pleasure, Your Force!"
Efraim seated himself and placed Lorcas at the end of the table to his right.
Lorcas said reflectively: "These tricks are really rather petty - not what one might expect of Singhalissa."
"I don't know what to expect from Singhalissa. I imagine that her aim is to demonstrate me a fool as well as an amnesiac, so that the eiodarks will eject me in favor of Destian."
"You'd do well to pack her off."
"I suppose so. Still -"
Singhalissa, Sthelany, and Destian entered the chamber. Efraim and Lorcas politely rose to their feet. Singhalissa came a few steps forward, then halted, regarding the two remaining chairs with pinched nostrils. She then spared a quick glance for the stately chair which Efraim occupied. "I am somewhat baffled," she said. "I envisioned an informal discussion, in which all opinions might most expeditiously be aired."
Efraim replied in an even voice: "I could not conceive a conference on a basis other than propriety. But I am surprised to see the Squire Destian; from the arrangements I understood that only you and the Noble Sthelany planned to attend our conference. Agnois, be so good as to arrange another place there, to the left of Her Dignity the Wirwove. Sthelany, be so good as to seat yourself in this chair to my left."
Smiling a faint vague smile, Sthelany took her seat. Singhalissa and Destian stood aside with dour faces as Agnois rearranged the table. Efraim watched Sthelany surreptitiously, as always wandering what went on in her brain. At this moment she seemed indolent, careless, and totally introverted.
Singhalissa and Destian at last were seated; Efraim and Lorcas gravely returned to their own places. Singhalissa made a small movement, but Lorcas gave a peremptory rap on the table with his knuckles, causing Singhalissa and Destian to look at him questioningly. Sthelany was studying Efraim with an interest almost embarrassingly intent.
Efraim spoke. "The present circumstances are strained, and certain of you have been forced to accept an attenuation of prospects. In reference to the events of the last six months, I remind you that I have been the chief victim. Excepting, of course, the Kaiark Jochaim, who was robbed of his life. Nevertheless, the inconveniences I personally have suffered have made me callous of lesser complaints, and it is on this basis that we hold our discussion."