Threstar wasted no words. After kneeling, he merely raised his right hand and pointed at Blade. «The Pendarnoth has come, Oh King.» Klerus, the entire Council, and the Princess Harima all joined him in kneeling to Blade. Only the king himself remained standing. Behind him Blade heard a silence fall over the crowd as people by the thousands went down on their knees or even on their faces. But he did not dare turn this time and look at Curana.
Instead, he sat on his horse and let the silence spread around him, until it seemed that the whole square was holding its breath waiting to hear him speak. He took a deep breath and spoke.
«King Nefus, I am the Pendarnoth, the Father of the Pendari, the man who rides the Golden Steed. I have come as it was predicted in your Book of the Nine Prophets. I have looked upon the Pendari and I have found them a worthy people.» Blade fell silent, and realized that he couldn't have said much more if he had to. His throat was dry and there was a hollow cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.
But he didn't need to say anything more, because King Nefus cried out in a clear, boyish voice, «Hail to the Pendarnoth, all people. Hail!» Klerus screamed it out; Threstar echoed him-and then the entire packed square burst into a continuous roar of «Hail to the Pendarnoth!»
The Golden Steed neighed and shuddered nervously as the cheers of a quarter of a million people thundered around it. Blade held the reins tightly and stroked its mane, afraid for a moment that it was going to rear or even bolt. That would be a fine spectacle-the long-awaited Golden Steed running away with the Pendarnoth, scattering the royal party like bowling pins.
How long the cheers and cries lasted Blade had no idea. Beyond a certain point his ears simply wouldn't accept any more sound. Finally he became aware that the noise was ebbing, and that King Nefus was looking up at him. The king's face was indeed that of a boy, thin and brown and large-eyed. But as he looked up at Blade, there was an intensity and a seriousness in his expression that was definitely not that of a boy.
Blade smiled as he looked down at the king. «Your Majesty, I have come before your people. They have seen me, and I have seen them. There is much more that can be done and must be done. But it need not be done here and now, with all the people of this mighty city standing in the sun. Let them return to their homes in peace, let them wish me well, and let me be found a fit and proper place to live. Can this be done, Your Majesty?»
Nefus turned to the High Councilor. «I think we can do these things for the Pendarnoth, can we not, Councilor?»
Klerus nodded his massive head. «We can, Your Majesty.»
«Then let these things be done,» said the king, his voice ringing out with a sudden unexpected strength in the stillness. Then the trumpeters snapped their trumpets up to their lips and shattered the silence with more harsh blasts. Threstar and the other officers began bawling, «Return to your homes and rejoice, Oh people! The Pendarnoth and the king give you leave to go.»
Blade saw stirrings and boilings in the crowd as people began to turn and try to make their way toward the edges of the square. But he did not have time to see much more than that. Threstar again took the Golden Steed by the bridle, and strode forward through the palace gates. Blade risked a look behind him, and saw Guroth urging his horse forward, leading his patrol and Curana after Blade.
He was off to a good start, at least. But a good start would only be a small part of the battle he would be fighting here. What would be the next part? He rather hoped it would be a talk with Klerus. He did not particularly want to make any moves until he had had a chance to size up the High Councilor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The royal palace of Pendar covered as much land as a not-too-small town and housed hardly fewer people. Every one of the scores of notables had his personal staff of servants, ranging from the hundreds who waited on the king down to the two or three attached to each officer. Then there were cooks, stewards, bath attendants, more than a thousand foot archers and an equal number of horsemen-the list went on and on.
The palace was equal to housing them all. It took Threstar better than half an hour to lead Blade from the gate of the palace to the room-actually the suite of rooms-that had been reserved for him. Round and round they went, through endless corridors whose floors were inlaid with multi-colored marble polished to a high gloss. They passed entire galleries of statues plated in gold, separated by gold and silver screens, illuminated by oil lamps hanging in gilded, chandeliers. When Threstar and the dozen guards with him finally ushered Blade into his suite, Blade's mind was beginning to reel. He had also noticed one thing about the palace as important as its display of wealth-it was obviously not designed for defense. Once an enemy got inside the walls-high and strong, but far from impregnable-there was nothing but the fighting prowess of the palace guards to keep it from being overrun. The Pendari had lived in peace at home for too long, whatever their prowess in the field. Was the defense of the city being similarly neglected? That was a question Blade knew he wanted answered as soon as possible.
But for the time being, there was nothing for him to do but explore his new quarters. The five rooms came equipped with every luxury imaginable, including some he hadn't expected.
Female companionship, for one thing. He discovered that when he opened the gilded bronze door to the bedroom, and heard the sound of scurrying footsteps inside, followed by a chorus of soft giggling. In spite of the giggling, he had his sword out when he came through the door. Once inside, he quickly slammed the door behind him and set his back against the stone wall. He stared across the floor, covered in thick furs and sheepskins dyed red and orange, to the enormous canopied bed.
Three heads in a neat row peered at him over the thick blue quilt. Three fresh young faces, each crowned with hair of a different, color-from right to left it was coal-black, brown, and blonde. Three sets of eyes were regarding him steadily, with curiosity rather than with fear.
«Well,» he said. It seemed as good an opening remark as any. Apparently the Pendarnoth was not expected to live a life of monastic self-denial. That was a welcome development. Blade was a man of robust and extensive appetites. The life of a monk would have ill-suited him, even in return for worship and adoration.
«Hail, Oh Pendarnoth,» the three girls said in chorus. But somehow the words lacked the note of reverence that Blade had always heard in them before. He looked back at the girls' expressions. No, no reverence here. But then why should there be? These girls were obviously here to minister to the man, not to the religious figure.
And also to spy, he suddenly realized. There was one thing a man like Klerus would be sure to do with any man he did not know. Probably with those he knew also-universal distrust was the basic law of palace politics in every land in every Dimension. He would contrive to place spies in that man's chambers-particularly in his bedchamber. To catch a man at his most unguarded moments, the moments best for catching the careless word or slipping a dagger into an unprotected back. Klerus was not wasting any time, it seemed.
Blade walked over to the bed and sat down on the foot of it. All three girls sat up. They were entirely naked, but this didn't bother them in the least. The blonde, who had the fullest figure, even arched her back and raised her arms to make her breasts stand out more conspicuously (although they didn't really need that kind of assistance). Blade grinned.