Aiko snorted, but Arin said, "We couldn't leave thee behind, Alos. Thou wert one of our party and would have been slain, mayhap tortured-the queen would have so commanded."
"If she survived," added Aiko. "If no one aided her, she might be dead from loss of blood."
"Even so," said Arin, "Alos would have paid with his life had we left him behind. The chamberlain and others would have seen to it."
Delon nodded. "Even though she was mad, regicide is a crime no realm will allow to go unpunished… though in many a case it should be encouraged and rewarded instead."
Alos, squinting against the sun, looked puzzled. "What happened to the queen?"
Delon stared at the old man. "You don't know?"
Alos shook his head, then winced from the movement. "I, ah…"
"You got drunk and passed out," said Aiko, accusingly.
Alos glared at her. "So that's when you dragged me to the ship against my will, eh?"
Aiko turned away in disgust.
"Ha, I thought so," accused the oldster, his white eye glaring.
" 'Twas for thine own good, Alos," protested Arin.
The old man looked at the Dylvana, then at Egil, who nodded and said, " 'Tis true, helmsman."
Barely mollified, Alos grunted, then turned to Delon. "What's this about the queen? Why would she have had me killed?"
"Well," said Delon, grinning, hauling the silver chain and cuff out from his shirt, the links still affixed to the argent collar 'round his neck, "Lady Aiko cut off her hand and set me free."
"Mokk!" spat Alos. "I know these Jutes. They'll pursue us to the ends of the world."
"Especially if the queen lives," agreed Delon. "She'll not rest till we are dead… and the bloodier, more painful the means, the better she'll like it."
"Hng," grunted Egil. "It's not as if we can simply disappear into the crowd. I mean, look at us: a Dylvana, a yellow woman, and two one-eyed men."
"And a rutting peacock," added Delon, "whatever that is."
"Maybe they'll not know we are at sea," said Aiko.
Egil shook his head. "As soon as they speak to the harbormaster, they'll know."
Aiko nodded glumly, then said, "That means they'll send out ships to run us down."
"Not just any ships," replied Egil, "but Dragonboats swift."
"Mayhap they'll head north, chier," said Arin. "Toward Fjordland, for they know that is thy home."
"Likely," replied Egil. "Yet they'll scour southward, too. And west. I think it best if we stand well out to sea and hope they believe we flee along the coast, sailing at night and holing up in coves by day to avoid detection."
Aiko looked at Egil and said, "If on the other hand they deduce that strategy, then we are at risk should they run us down at sea. They will be many to our few, and we will not be able to outrun them."
Egil canted his head. "Aye, Aiko. Yet we have the vast sea to shelter us. It will be like searching for a grain of wheat in a field of chaff."
Arin nodded. "I agree. Had they known our destination, then the odds would be much shorter. Yet they do not, and so, indeed, we will be hidden in the brine, our ship steered by good helmsman Alos."
"Perhaps they'll think we've sunk," said Delon, "drawn down by last night's storm."
Egil looked at him and shrugged. "They'll search regardless."
For a moment none said aught, then Delon cleared his throat. "And we go to Pellar, you say?'
"Aye, to Pendwyr," replied Egil.
"But no farther, y' hear," declared Alos, tasting his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I'll go with you that far, but then we part company." Grumbling, Alos moved to the tiller and plopped down across from Arin. Shielding his eye and glaring up at the sails, he said, "You've not quite caught the wind, Dara." He turned to Egil. "And the sails need trimming. Here, let me take the helm and we'll get there all the faster and then I'll be quit of this insanity. You can then chase the green stone on your own. I'll no longer be part of this mad mission."
Delon's gaze shifted to Aiko. "Green stone? Hmm. Ever since I was a lad in Gunar, I've wanted to be part of a grand adventure. You'll have to tell me of this quest of yours."
Aiko shook her head. "It is Dara Arin's vision we follow, not mine."
Delon turned to the Dylvana. "Tell me what you seek. Tell me, too, why Lady Aiko calls me a rutting peacock, though I think I know the answer. And isn't there some way we can get this blasted collar off my neck?"
"Ah, so that's it," said Delon in the late afternoon sun, the bard feeling much better now that his nausea had passed. "Well then, count me in. I can make a sweeping saga of it whether or no we succeed."
"Hold still," snapped Aiko, pressing and rocking the keen edge of her blade of steel against the remaining fastener of the silver collar. "I'm nearly through."
tk
The blade clove through the last of the soft silver rivet and the collar fell free.
Delon took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then rubbed his neck all 'round and stretched it side to side. "Adon, but it's good to be shed of that thing at last, and I thank you, Lady Aiko." Laughing, he took up the collar and chain and bracelet and weighed them in his hands. "Paltry wages for what I was put through."
Egil looked across at him. "Which was…?"
Delon glanced at Arin and Aiko, then said, "It was mine to keep her, um, satisfied." He shook his head. "She was too much even for me."
"Hah!" barked Alos. "Then how did you keep her content?"
Delon tilted his head and smiled wanly. "There is more than one way to pleasure a woman."
Alos cackled aloud, then sobered and turned to Aiko. "I hope you haven't made a mistake. I mean, we left the real peacock behind, and I don't want to go back after him. And as to the rutting: he's probably back there doing the ducks even as we speak."
"Nay, Alos," replied Aiko. "Fowl seem destined to remain true to their kind."
"Then how did you know Delon, here, was the rutting peacock?"
Delon looked at her, smiling slightly, awaiting her answer.
Aiko shrugged. "The balcony was open to the queen's bedroom, and she wasn't silent in her copious and repeated indulgence. As to the peacock-"
"As to the peacock," interjected Delon, holding out his arms wide and peering down at his clothes, "look at me. What else could I be but Gudrun's peacock? As if I were one of her creatures on display, she garbed me in apparel so gaudy it's a wonder no one went blind." Delon nodded to Aiko. "Indeed, Lady Aiko, I am the mad monarch's rutting peacock-just one of hundreds, I understand-yet I am most grateful you set me free ere I met their fate."
"How did you, um"-Alos grinned his gap-toothed smile-"come to serve her?"
Delon laughed and said, "I like this dirty old man." Then his expression grew solemn. "As to how I came to serve her, well, I walked into it with my eyes wide open…"
Delon whistled as he disembarked from the Gelender ship making port in Koniginstadt. If the rumors were true then he would soon be living in endless luxury as the queen's favorite lover, of that he had no doubt. He would first make love to her with his eyes and his voice-
Delon fingered the amulet at his neck, given over to him by his father, Elon, who had gotten it from his own father, Galon, and so on back into the mists of time. Where the amulet had come from originally, none now living really knew, though 'twas said that long past it was a gift from the Mage Kaldor for a service well performed. In any event it seemed to have the power to enhance the voice, and when coupled with bardish training, it made one sing like the Elves.
– and when she had accepted him, he would make love with his hands and lips and whispered endearments and his entire body. That he could pleasure her, Delon was certain, for he had spent much of the last fifteen years in the company of women, primarily in their beds, and he had yet to meet a woman he could not satisfy. And the rewards had been substantiaclass="underline" the best of foods and wines and added delectations of taste and olfaction, rich clothing, engaging books, small treasures and trinkets rare, and other delights throughout every day-oh, not necessarily physical pleasures, though they were considerable, but pleasures of the mind and spirit and heart and soul as well. And travel and adventure: these too were his to choose, though as of yet he had avoided anything strenuous, for he loved luxury too well. Certainly, there were times when he had to flee the comfort of a woman-when her father or brother or husband or betrothed came unexpectedly to her chamber-and there were times when he had to fight his way clear, for he was skilled in the use of a rapier, though mostly he talked his way free. But on the whole he strayed from one place of comfort to another when his appetite for a particular locale or abode or woman waned. And from mansion to manor to estate to chateau to villa he drifted, seeking pleasure, seeking… he knew not what else.