"Really?" Theovere took the lumpy little device from the guard and examined it with interest. "Why, you wouldn't have to go outside to cast a horoscope, would you?"
Harperus had the grace not to wince; the Deliambrens were usually very vocal in their scorn for astrology and astrologers. "No," he agreed. "You wouldn't. The purpose is mainly entertainment, though."
"Well, it's a delightful gift," Theovere told him with a real smile. "Now, what is the other reason? I have to assume that since you brought a gift, you're going to ask a favor. Everyone else does it that way."
T'fyrr winced. That was a little too cynical, even for Theovere.
But Harperus only laughed. "Now who am I to go against the trend? Yes, we do need a favor, but it's a minor one. It won't cost you or anyone else a clipped copper, and it's mainly just to take care of some rather stubborn folk who think we're demon-spawn."
Theovere sat back in his chair, wearing a widening grin. "Oh, I know the type you're talking about. So what is this favor?"
"We need your blanket permission to cross the Twenty Kingdoms with a rather large vehicle," Harperus told him. "We're going to map all of this continent of Alanda. Accurately. We'll supply you and any other government with maps of your own territories, of course_they'll be detailed down to the nearest furlong. We can do maps more detailed than that, but they'd fill a room this size if we gave you maps of all of the kingdoms."
Theovere looked thoughtful at that. "We might need something that detailed," he said finally. "You ought to have some copies made up for the archives here if nothing else." Then he grinned again. "Oh, I know why those old goats don't want you crossing their kingdoms, and it has nothing to do with what you Deliambrens and your machines are or are not."
"It doesn't?" Harperus raised both his eyebrows in feigned surprise.
As if you didn't know the reason, too, Old Owl. It occurred to T'fyrr that Theovere's cynicism was contagious.
"Of course not!" Theovere glanced at his Seneschal for confirmation. "They know that once I have accurate maps, I'm likely to find out they've been adding to their territory an inch or two at a time for years! And, of course, once I have maps like that, I have to send my personal surveyors out to make certain that the borders are marked correctly. Don't I?"
The Lord Seneschal nodded, his lips compressed into a thin line, though whether from tension or because he was trying not to say something he shouldn't, T'fyrr wasn't certain.
"I believe you ought to give the Deliambrens that blanket permission, Your Majesty," the Lord Seneschal said, after a moment's pause. "You really don't have to call a Council on it, any more than you had to call a Council to add Sire T'fyrr to your personal household. It is in the nature of a favor from you to Lord Harperus, after all."
T'fyrr held his tongue, though it was difficult. It was very clever of the Seneschal to have brought up the stormy Council session that ended with his own appointment to the King's personal household. Theovere was still steaming over that one_and the reminder of how recalcitrant most of his Advisors had been was exactly what Harperus needed.
Theovere would see this as a multiple opportunity now. He could do Harperus, who he liked, a favor. He could do the Deliambrens a favor that might earn him more little toys like the star-projector. He could thwart the Council, taking revenge for the way they had tried to block his appointment of T'fyrr.
He could obtain maps that would help him to solve disputes between the Kings, between the Barons, between the Sires. He could enforce decisions on the strength of those maps.
And he can prove that he is still the High King. Perhaps my music is working?
"This will harm no one, Your Majesty," the Seneschal urged. "And it will be of great benefit to many."
Theovere did not think it over for more than a heartbeat after that. "Fine," he said, and gestured to three of the Royal Scribes. "Consider it done." He leaned his head back for a moment and rattled off the appropriate language for the official document; the scribes took it all down as fast as Theovere recited.
Feeble-minded? I don't think so, T'fyrr remarked to himself. Not when he can do that, without even blinking.
When they finished, they presented all three copies to the Seneschal, who made certain that they were identical, then handed them on to Theovere to sign and seal.
One of the three he presented to Harperus on the spot. "There you are, Lord Harperus," he said with a smile. "Signed, sealed and official. No one will argue with your little expedition now." He turned to the Chief Scribe and handed him the remaining two copies. "See that the usual duplicates are made, and so on," he told the man, "but_send them along to the Councilors with, oh, the household documents. This certainly doesn't have any more importance than an inventory of linen."
The scribe bowed, face expressionless, and took himself out. The Lord Seneschal's mouth twitched. T'fyrr knew why.
They'll take those household accountings and give them to some flunky to file and never look at them. They'll never know about this declaration unless Harperus has to use it in some way that draws attention to it, and by then it will be too late, of course. Oh, clever! Feeble-minded? No, no, not Theovere.
"Now," the High King said, turning toward T'fyrr, who was very glad that he did not have a face that was as easy to read as a humans. "I'd really like you to hear more of your friend's magnificent singing, if you have the time for it."
Harperus smiled and took a seat when the King indicated he could. "I always have time for T'fyrr, Your Majesty," he said smoothly. "And I am glad that you have learned that my friend is far more talented than he seems."
T'fyrr only bowed without blinking an eye_but in subtle revenge, he began a Deliambren courting song, full of double and triple dealings, and such vivid descriptions of who did what to whom that a human Priest would have had it banned on the spot as the vilest of pornography.
And watching Harperus' face as he struggled to remain polite was revenge enough for all Harperus had thus far inflicted on him.
Nightingale waited for T'fyrr, perched on a metal balcony on the exterior of Freehold; streetlamps gave all the light she needed to see what lay below her, although it wasn't much cooler now than it had been this afternoon. T'fyrr had told her three nights ago that he wanted to arrive at Freehold openly tonight. She hadn't been all that sure it was a good idea, but apparently Harperus and Tyladen thought it was best if he were actually seen coming and going now and again.
But for him to be seen by the maximum number of people, he would have to arrive afoot just after sunset, and not come flying in to the roof long after dark.
No one has tried to attack him since the first attempt, she reminded herself. No one has even dared to enter Freehold and so much as look at him crossly. We have walked the streets of Lyonarie during the day together, and no one has tried to ambush us. He believes the danger is over.