My Lord, the Captain said, you've stayed alive all these years by not taking such chances.
Until Ansset came, Mikal answered painfully, I did not know what I was staying alive for.
The Captain bowed his head. The Chamberlain thought of another argument, almost said something, and then thought better of it
Bring him to me, said Mikal, in open court, so that everyone can watch me accept my Songbird again. I'll have no taint on him. In two hours.
They left, and Mikal sat alone on the floor in front of his fireplace, resting his chin on his hands. He was getting old, and his back hurt, and he tried to hum a tune the Songbird had often sung. The voice was old and creaky, and he couldn't do it. The fire spat at him, and he wondered what it would be like to have beautiful Ansset hold a laser and aim it at his heart. He would not know what he was doing, Mikal reminded himself. He would be innocent in his heart. But I would still be dead when he was through.
10
The Captain and Chamberlain came together to take Ansset from the cell where he had spent the last four days.
He wants you to come.
Ansset had Control again. He showed little emotion as he asked, Am I ready?
They said nothing for a moment, which was answer enough.
Then I won't go, Ansset said.
He commands it, the Chamberlain said.
Not if we don't know what's been hidden in my head.
The Captain patted Ansset's shoulder. A loyal attitude. But the only thing we could find was that at least some of the blocks were laid by your teacher.
Esste?
Yes.
Ansset smiled, and suddenly his voice radiated confidence. Then it's all right. She wishes nothing but good for Mikal!
Only some of the blocks.
And the smile left Ansset's face.
But you will come. He's expecting you in court in less than two hours.
Can't we try again?
Trying again would be pointless. Whoever laid the blocks in your mind laid them well, Ansset, And Mikal won't be put off any longer. You have no choice. Please come with us now. And the Captain stood. He expected to be obeyed, and Ansset followed. They wound their way through the palace to the security rooms at the entrances to the court. There Ansset insisted on their most thorough search, every possible poison and weapon checked for.
And tie my hands, Ansset said.
Mikal wouldn't stand for it, the Captain said, but the Chamberlain nodded and said, The boy's right. So they clamped manacles onto Ansset's forearms. The manacles quickly fit snugly from elbow to wrist. They were held by metal bars exactly twenty centimeters apart behind his back, which was uncomfortable at first and steadily more uncomfortable the longer he had to Hold the position. They also hobbled his legs.
And keep guards with lasers far enough from me that there's no chance of my taking a weapon.
You know, said the Captain, that we might still find your kidnappers. We've identified the accent now. Eire.
I've never heard of the planet, said the Chamberlain.
It's an island. Here on Earth.
Another group of freedom fighters? asked the Chamberlain, scornfully.
With more gall than most.
An accent isn't much to go on.
But we're going on it, the Captain said, with finality.
It's time, said a servant at the door.
They left the security room and passed through the ordinary security system, detectors that scanned for metal and the more ordinary poisons, guards who frisked everyone, including Ansset, because they had been told to make no exceptions.
And then Ansset passed between the doors and walked into the great hall. When the students had visited, most of the hall had been empty, their chairs gathered up near the throne. Now the full court was in session, with visitors from dozens of planets waiting along the edges of the room to present their petitions or make gifts or complain about some government policy or official. Mikal sat on his throne at the end of the room. He needed nothing more than a simple if elegant chair-no raised platform, no steps, nothing but his own bearing and dignity to raise him above the level of everyone around him. Ansset had never approached the throne from this end of the room. He had always stood beside Mikal, had always entered from the back, and now he knew why so many who walked up this long space were trembling when they reached the end. Every eye was upon him as he passed, and Mikal watched him gravely from the throne. Ansset wanted to run to him, embrace him, sing songs, and find comfort in Mikal's acceptance. Yet he knew that in his mind might hide instructions to kill the old man on the throne.
He came within a dozen meters of the throne and knelt, bowing his head.
Mikal raised his hand in the ritual of recognition. Ansset had heard Mikal laugh at the rituals when they were alone together, but now the majesty of set forms helped Ansset maintain his calm.
My Lord, said Ansset in clear, bell-like tones that filled the room and stopped all the whispered conversations around the walls. I am Ansset, and I have come to ask for my life. In the old days, Mikal had once explained to Ansset, this was the ritual for rulers of hundreds of worlds, and it had meant something. Many a rebel lord or soldier had died on the spot, when the sovereign denied the petition. And even Mikal took the pro forma surrender of life seriously. It was one of many constant reminders he used to help his subjects remember that he had power over them.
Why should I spare you? Mikal asked, his voice old but firm. To anyone else, he would have seemed a model of poise. But Ansset knew the voice, and heard the quaver of eagerness, of fear and gentle trembling on the edges of the tones.
The ritual required Ansset to simply state his accomplishments, something modest yet impressive. But Ansset left the ritual here, and fervently sang to Mikal, Father Mikal, you should not!
The crowd around the walls began whispering again. The sight of the Songbird in manacles and hobbled was shocking enough. But for the Songbird to plead for his own death-
Why not? Mikal asked, seeming impassive (but Ansset knew that he was warning him, saying, Don't push, don't force me ).
Because, my Lord Mikal Imperator, things were done to me that are now locked in my mind so that neither I nor anyone can find them. I therefore have secrets from you. I'm a danger to you, Father Mikal! Ansset deliberately broke with formality in his last sentence, and the threat in his voice struck fear in everyone in the room.
None of that, Mikal said. You think you're acting for my good, but you don't know my good. Don't try to teach me to fear you, because I will not. He raised his hand. I grant you your life.
And Ansset, despite the strain it caused on his bound arms, leaned down and kissed the floor to express his gratitude for Mikal's clemency. It was a gesture that only pardoned traitors used.
Why are you bound? asked Mikal.
For your safety.
Unbind him, Mikal said. But Ansset noticed with relief that the Captain of the guard disarmed the men who came out to untie the hobble and break open the manacles. When they were removed, Ansset stood. He raised his now-free arms over his head, lifted his gaze to the great vaults of the ceiling, and sang his love for Mikal. But the song was full of warning, though there were no direct words, and the song also sang of Ansset's regret that because of Mikal's wisdom and for the sake of the empire Ansset would now be sent away.
No! cried Mikal, interrupting the song. No! My Son Ansset, I won't send you away! I would rather meet death at your hands than receive gifts from any other's? Your life is more valuable to me than my own. And Mikal reached out his arms.