"I will think about it," said Jorian. After Harichumbra had gone, he asked Karadur: "What sort of man is this King Shaju, as a man and not as a king?"
"Your question, my son, means little, for in Mulvan the role of king is so exacting that the man, as a distinct entity, has little chance of emerging. From morn to night he is busied, if not with state business and the hearing of petitions, then with religious ceremonies. For he is supposed to please both the millions of Mulvanians beneath his sway and, at the same time, the hundreds of gods in the heavens above—a task to daunt the hardiest."
"How is he with his intimates, then?"
"He has no intimates—no friends, as you would use the term. The formality of courtly usage rules every aspect of his life and excludes him from true intimacy. When he summons one of his wives to his bed, she must perform the same prostrations on approaching him that the rest of us do in his throne room. Perhaps, after he has sown the royal seed and ere he goes to sleep, he engages in some small informal talk with the woman—but who would know about that?"
"We managed things better in Xylar; the king was allowed to be halfway human. What sort of man, then, would Shaju be if he weren't king?"
Karadur shrugged. "Who can tell? For the office molds the man as much as the man molds the office—and more so, if the office be so overwhelming as that of Great King. But from what I have seen of King Shaju, I suspect he would be a well-meaning and not unable mediocrity—the kind who, were he your neighbor, you might describe as 'a good fellow but dull.' Of course, he can be cruel and violent as circumstances require, and he showed no qualms about killing off a score of brothers upon his accession. Had he not, one of them would probably have slain him, so he would not be here for us to criticize. But that is kingship for you."
The public audience proved an interesting example of Mulvanian courtly techniques. Every word and gesture had been prescribed by Harichumbra and rehearsed by Jorian and his women. The replies and gestures of the Great King were just as artificial.
Shaju sat on a golden throne at the end of a long hall, whose air was blue with the smoke of incense burners. Behind a screen, musicians twanged and tootled.
Suppressing an urge to cough on the fragrant smoke, Jorian and his girls followed the usher down the hall. At the prescribed distance, Jorian and the eleven ladies-in-waiting prostrated themselves, while Queen Mnevis, as a fellow sovran, merely bowed low. While they were in this position, a grinding noise made itself heard. When Jorian looked up from his crouch, the throne bearing King Shaju had risen on a pillar to a fathom above its normal height. With a grinding of gearwheels, the throne sank back to its former level.
This throne was an amazing structure. The back had the form of a gigantic butterfly, as high as a man. The wings of the insect, made of a kind of gold mesh, blazed with jewels, which formed a pattern like that of a real butterfly.
King Shaju was taller than most Mulvanians, albeit shorter by nearly a head than Jorian. He was middle-aged and a little overweight, with a shaven chin and a long, black, drooping mustache. Cosmetics failed to hide a sad, weary expression. In a high-pitched, expressionless voice he said:
"The Great King graciously condescends to receive the homage of the charming queen of Algarth. It pleases the King of Kings to see that other monarchs of the world acknowledge his primacy. My Majesty accepts the gift of Your Majesty with thanks and would have Your Majesty know that you shall not suffer for your generosity." The king turned over the gift—the best of the golden cups from the treasure room of Rennum Kezymar—and said: "This looks like Mulvanian work." He glanced inquiringly at Jorian, who responded:
"May it please Your Majesty, it probably is. Trade has carried the peerless products of Mulvanian handicrafts far and wide, even to distant Algarth."
"I see. Well, for the discussion of matters of state, the Great King will entertain the charming queen in the room of private audience at a time to be fixed by our servants. May the gods of Mulvan and those of Algarth smile upon the gracious queen!"
"Now we back out!" hissed Harichumbra.
The private audience proved more interesting. Besides the ubiquitous guards, there were only five persons: King Shaju, his minister Ishvarnam, Queen Mnevis, Jorian, and Harichumbra. Ishvarnam opened by asking:
"Lord Jorian, one has heard rumors of a king of your name, in one of the more distant Novarian cities. It is called Zy—nay, Xylar. Is your lordship perchance connected with this monarch, who one hears has died, or been slain, or fled the kingdom, or some such thing? The tales contradict one another, and we have no secure source of news from there."
Heart pounding, Jorian answered evenly: "One suspects we are distant cousins, Excellency. One was born in Kortoli City, whereas one believes this other Jorian came from the village of Ardamai, several leagues distant from the capital. One's own forebears moved from Ardamai to Kortoli two generations ago; but there might be a connection, could one take time to trace it down."
"One thanks your lordship for your information," said Ishvarnam. "Now let us to business…"
Translating Mnevis' speech, Jorian made his plea for a vast armed force to recapture the Algarth Archipelago from the freebooters. In actual fact, the pirates had been there since they first appeared in Novarian history. The Twelve Cities knew nothing of any line of legitimate sovrans in those isles. As Jorian expected, however, the Mulvanians had never even beard of Algarth and so were in no position to contradict him.
When he had finished, Ishvarnam and the king exchanged whispers. Then the minister spoke:
"My dear Lord Jorian, much as His Majesty would be delighted to restore Her charming Majesty to her rightful throne, what she proposes is beyond the powers of even such a world-bestriding realm as Mulvan. What with the pirates of the Inner Sea, and raids by the desert riders of Fedirun, and incursions by the savages of the equatorial jungles of Beraoti, we have all we can do to maintain order in our own realm. One fears Her Majesty asks the impossible."
Jorian and Mnevis put on suitably downcast expressions. Ishvarnam said: "The Great King will, however, see to it that Her Majesty go not hence empty-handed. He will, moreover, provide her with an escort back to Janareth suitable to her rank. Thence she can proceed to places where conditions are more favorable for finding succor. For example, we hear that in the Twelve Cities are many turbulent rogues, always eager for such adventure."
"How shall they reach Vindium, now that shipping on the Inner Sea has closed down for the winter?" asked Jorian.
"The escort will convey Her Majesty and her attendants to Vindium by the land route."
"One has heard—no doubt from some misinformed source—that this route is perilous."
"The escort will be large enough to master such contingencies as arise."
"One sees. It would, in one's humble opinion, be wise for them to set out forthwith, to get through the Lograms before full winter sets in."
"We can speed them on their way tomorrow, if that be Her charming Majesty's wish," said Ishvarnam.
"That will be excellent. One would like, however, to beg His Majesty's indulgence to the extent of allowing one to linger in Trimandilam for a few days after Her Majesty's departure. One would like to see more of His Majesty's world-famous city and to attend the ball to which he was so gracious as to invite one. Since ladies of noble birth and tender upbringing cannot be expected to travel swiftly, one should easily overtake them."