‘I know you enjoy these games, Merlin. But if you want to get to the point…’
‘The man who became King Curtal began life called Tierce.’ He watched her face for the flicker of a reaction that he knew she would not be able to conceal. The recognition of a name, across years or centuries, depending on the reckoning.
Merlin cleared his throat before continuing.
‘Tierce was a high-ranking officer in the Havergal military command – assigned to the liaison group which dealt with the Shrike. He’d have had close contact with your crew during the whole time you were in-system.’
Her mouth moved a little before she found the words. ‘Tell me what happened to Tierce.’
‘Nothing bad. But what you might not have known about Tierce was that he was also minor royalty. He probably played it down, trying to get ahead in his career on his own merits. And that was how things would have worked out, if it wasn’t for one of those craters. A Gaffurian long-range strike, unexpected and deadly, taking out the entire core of the royal family. They were all killed, Teal – barely a decade after you left the system. But they had to maintain continuity, then more than ever. The chain of succession led to Tierce, and he became King Curtal. The man you knew ended up as King.’
She looked at him for a long moment, perhaps measuring for herself the reasons Merlin might have had to lie about such a thing, and then finding none that were plausible, beyond tormenting her for the sake of it.
‘Can you be sure?’
‘The records are open. There was no cover-up about the succession itself. But the fact that Tierce had a daughter…’ Merlin found that he had to glance away before continuing. ‘That was difficult. The girl was illegitimate, and that was deeply problematic for the Havergal elite. On the other hand, Tierce was proud and protective of his daughter, and wouldn’t accept the succession unless Cupis – that’s the girl’s name – was given all the rights and privileges of nobility. There was a constitutional tussle, as you can imagine. But eventually it was all settled in favour of Cupis and she was granted legitimacy within the family. They’re good at that sort of thing, royals.’
‘What you’re saying is that Cupis was my daughter.’
‘For reasons that you can probably imagine, there’s no mention that the child was born to a Cohort mother. That would be a scandal beyond words. But of course you could hardly forget that you’d given birth to a girl, could you?’
She answered after a moment’s hesitation. ‘We had a girl. Her name was Pauraque.’
Merlin nodded. ‘A Cohort name – not much good for the daughter of a king. Tierce would have had to accept a new name for the girl, something more suited to local customs. I don’t doubt it was hard for him, if the old name was a link to the person he’d never see again, the person he presumably loved and missed. But he accepted the change in the girl’s interests. Do you mind – was there a reason you didn’t stay with Tierce, or Tierce didn’t join you on the Shrike?’
‘Neither was allowed,’ Teal said, with a sudden coldness in her voice. ‘What happened was difficult. Tierce and I were never meant to get that close, and if one of us had stayed with the other it would have made the whole affair a lot more public, risking the trade agreements. We were given no choice. They said if I didn’t go along with things, the simplest option would be to make Pauraque disappear. So I had to leave my daughter behind on Havergal, and I was told it would be best for me if I forgot she ever existed. And I tried. But when I saw that portrait…’
‘I can’t imagine what you went through,’ Merlin answered. ‘But if I can offer anything by way of consolation, it’s this. King Curtal was a good ruler – one of the best they had. And Queen Cupis did just as well. She took the throne late in her father’s life, when Curtal abdicated due to failing health. And by all accounts she was an honest and fair-minded ruler who did everything she could to broker peace with the enemy. It was only when the military computers overruled her plans…’ Merlin managed a kindly smile and produced the data tablet had been keeping by his side. It was of Havergal manufacture, but rugged and intuitive in its functions. He held it to Teal and a woman’s face appeared on the screen. ‘That’s Queen Cupis,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t one of the portraits we saw earlier, or you’d have made the connection for yourself. I can see you in her pretty clearly.’
Teal took the tablet and held it close to her, so that its glow underlit her features. ‘Are there more images?’ she asked, with a catch in her voice, as if she almost feared the answer.
‘Many,’ Merlin replied. ‘And recordings, video and audio, taken at all stages in her life. I stored quite a few on the tablet – I thought you’d like to see them.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I suppose.’
‘I know this is troubling for you, and I probably shouldn’t have dug into Curtal’s past. But once I’d started…’
‘And after Cupis?’
‘Nearly twelve hundred years of history, Teal – kings and queens and marriages and assassinations, all down the line. Too many portraits for one room. But your genes were in Cupis and if I’ve read the family tree properly they ought to be in every descendant, generation after generation.’ He paused, giving her time to take this all in. ‘I’m not exactly sure what this makes you. Havergal royalty, by blood connection? I’m pretty certain they won’t have run into this situation before. Equally certain Baskin doesn’t have a clue that you’re one of his distant historical ancestors. And I suggest we keep it that way, at least for now.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s information,’ Merlin said. ‘And information’s always powerful.’
He left her with the tablet. They were past the hour for their appointment with Prince Baskin now, but Merlin would go on alone and make excuses for Teal’s lateness.
Besides, he had something else on his mind.
Merlin and the Prince were dining, just the two of them for the moment. Baskin had been making half-hearted small-talk since Merlin’s arrival, but it was plain that there was really only one thing on his mind, and he was straining to have an answer.
‘My staff say that you were very busy,’ he said. ‘Making all sorts of use of our facilities. Did you by any chance…’
Merlin smiled sweetly. ‘By any chance…?’
‘Arrive at a conclusion. Concerning the matter at hand.’
Merlin tore into his bread with rude enthusiasm. ‘The matter?’
‘The syrinx, Merlin. The syrinx. The thing that’s kept you occupied all day.’
Merlin feigned sudden and belated understanding, touching a hand to his brow and shaking his head at his own forgetfulness. ‘Of course. Forgive me, Prince Baskin. It always was really just a formality, wasn’t it? I mean, I never seriously doubted your honesty.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ But there was still an edge in Baskin’s voice. ‘So…’
‘So?’
‘Is it real, or is it not real. That’s what you set out to establish, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, it’s real. Very real.’ Merlin looked at his host with a dawning understanding. ‘Did you actually have doubts of your own, Prince? That had never occurred to me until now, but I suppose it would have made perfect sense. After all, you only ever had the Shrike’s word that the thing was real. How could you ever know, without using it?’
‘We tried, Merlin. For thirteen hundred years, we tried. But it’s settled, then? You’ll accept the syrinx in payment? It really isn’t much that I’m asking of you, all things considered.’
‘If you really think this bag of tricks will make all the difference, then who I am I to stand in your way?’