"Quite a speech," said Jorian. "But since I was invited by His Majesty himself, and since His Majesty—may he reign forever!—did not withdraw his invitation upon the queen's departure, I have no intention of complying with your wish. What do you propose to do about it?"
"For the last time, dog, get out!"
"Put me out!"
"I will!" Chavero stooped and fumbled behind a shrub. He straightened up with a naked scimitar in his hand. He stalked towards Jorian on the balls of his feet, blade poised for a quick slash.
Having neither sword, nor cloak, nor dagger to defend himself with, Jorian backed away. As Chavero started a quick rush, Jorian dodged around a fountain. For a few minutes they darted back and forth on opposite sides of the fountain, circumambulating it now clockwise and now contra-clockwise. Although a big, powerful man, the Mulvanian was shorter in the legs and bigger in the belly than Jorian, so the latter managed to keep the fountain between him and his foe.
Then he heard a low call from the balcony: "Lord Jorian! Here!"
A glance showed him Yargali leaning over the marble rail, extending his own sword to him. He left the fountain, bounded over to the foot of the terrace, and caught Randir by the hilt as she tossed it to him.
He spun to face the onrushing Chavero. Their blades met in a whirl of steel; they clashed and sang and struck sparks. Jorian easily parried the whirlwind, slashing attack of the Mulvanian until shortness of breath forced the other to slow down. Then he feinted a backhand cut, reversed it, and slashed diagonally down and to the left, so that the tip of his blade sliced through the sash that upheld the saffron pantaloons.
Jorian then leaped back. Chavero began a quick advance; but what Jorian hoped for happened. Deprived of their support, Chavero's trousers fell down, and Chavero fell prone on the greensward, right at Jorian's feet.
Jorian planted his foot on Chavero's sword. "Now, my lord," he said smoothly, "I think I will carve my name on your pretty little bare, brown arse—"
"Swine!" yelled Chavero, letting go his sword and rolling to his feet. He grabbed for the trousers wound about his ankles and, at the same time, tried to leap back out of reach of Jorian's blade. But he missed the garment and fell into the fountain. He emerged from the water, blowing and coughing, and hauled himself out on the side opposite to Jorian.
The latter darted around the fountain and caught up with Chavero as the latter, now trouserless, gained his feet. Jorian brought the flat of his sword with a loud whack against the Mulvanian's buttocks. Screaming curses and yelling for help, Chavero ran around the paths of the garden with Jorian after him, now and then getting in another blow.
Jorian was almost having too much fun to realize that the noise had aroused the attention of others. Light and motion from the terrace caught his eye. Then he heard the voice of the king, raised in anger:
"Stop this at once!"
Jorian and Chavero stood side by side, looking up at the terrace. Thence the king, surrounded by the plumed and bejeweled nobility of the realm, glared down. Chavero kept pulling down the lower front edge of his shirt to preserve his decency. Shaju pointed to Chavero and barked:
"Explain!"
"This—this b-beastly—(cough)—barbarian grossly insulted my honor, sire, and then't-tried to m-m-m-…" Chavero's voice trailed away into spasms of coughing and incoherent stammers and squawks. Between his rage and the water he had taken into his lungs, he could not speak intelligibly. A mutter of anger at the barbarous foreigner ran through the nobles.
While Chavero still sputtered, the king pointed to Jorian. "You, then!"
Jorian gave his best bow. "Your Majesty, since anything one said might be interpreted as self-serving, one prays that you ask the Princess Yargali for an account of this unfortunate event. Having witnessed the whole incident, she can give Your Majesty an objective account."
"Well?" said the king, turning to Yargali, who told a truthful tale of what happened. She explained that, when she saw Chavero chasing Jorian with a scimitar, which he had evidently hidden ahead of time in the shrubbery, she realized that she could not explain to the king or his officials what was happening in time to save Jorian's neck. So she had gone straight to the cloakroom and thence fetched Jorian his sword.
The king's lips twitched, and then he burst into a hearty guffaw, throwing his head back and rocking on his heels. For once he seemed almost human. All the nobles laughed even louder, for it went without saying that a joke by royalty was always ten times as funny as the same joke told by someone else. King Shaju said something to Minister Ishvarnam, turned his back and re-entered the ballroom. Ishvarnam leant over the marble balustrade and called out:
"My lord Chavero! His Majesty instructs me to tell you that you have incurred his august displeasure by your unmannerly conduct. You shall return at once to your estates at Kolkai and remain there until further notice. Lord Jorian, you have His Majesty's forgiveness for any breach of courtly etiquette that you may have committed in defending yourself against Lord Chavero, and His Majesty commands you to remain at the ball as long as you wish and to forget tonight's incident."
Chavero cast one last sneer in Jorian's direction. He muttered, "You shall yet rue your insolence, dog!" before stalking away through the darkened garden.
Jorian joined Karadur on the terrace. The latter said in Novarian: "Lucky for you, my son, that you slew not the miscreant. Had you done so, not even Yargali's tale could have saved you from punishment."
"I figured that out whilst he was chasing me round the fountain. So, when a chance offered to make him ridiculous without killing him, I seized what the gods offered. But by Zevatas's brazen beard, was I frightened!"
"My son!" said Karadur in tones of gentle reproof. "If you would play the role of nobleman, you must not go about telling everybody how terrified you were under this or that circumstance. I know you have more courage in one finger than most of these popinjays have in their whole bodies, but you spoil the impression you make by this harping on your own timidity. Desist!"
" Tis the simple truth, though, and don't you urge men to utter the simple truth?"
"Mayhap, but in this case we must make an exception. I have known men of many kinds, and I believe that noblemen suffer from fright just as much as the rest. The difference is that their sense of honor forbids them to admit their fear."
"But I am no nobleman, only a—"
"Hush! Whilst you play the part, you must follow the customs, however silly they seem. But now we must beware of Lord Chavero's vengeance. The remaining nobles may befriend you, for that Chavero was much disliked for his quarrelsome and overbearing nature. But he may still hire a poisoner to slip into your soup that which is no elixir of life."
"I hope we can be on our way before the morning's light. Have you that magical rope?"
"Aye, in our quarters."
"Well, fetch it here at midnight. Can you gain access to yon garden without passing the sentries who guard the Hall of the Green Serpent?"
"That were easy; the door in the hall opposite is not guarded."
"So be here with that rope. When I have entered Yargali's lair, go quickly to the stables and take out our mounts. Will the city gates still be open?"
"With luck, since this is a holy day."