“Ah yes.” Ligne nodded. “And where is that ugly slaver?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Don’t lie to me. You know exactly where he is. You’ve been working together with bun.”
“You’re mistaken, my Lady.”
“You deny that you plotted my downfall together?”
“I would plan nothing with Admon Faye, my Lady. Not even an enterprise as necessary as your demise.”
“You watch your tongue!”
“You asked I responded.”
“You want me to kill you here?”
“It matters little to me where I die, my Lady, if you’ve determined already that I shall.”
“I thought I might give you a chance to decide that.” Ligne smiled.
Then she laughed at Pelmen’s puzzled look.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps a little wager is in order.”
“A wager?”
“On a game of Drax. If you win, you may take this rubbish heap of an acting troupe with you. If you lose, I kill each of you personally ”
“Done!” Pelmen snapped, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Pelmen,” Gerrig began, but the power shaper cut him off.
“Gerrig, it’s clearly the only alternative and it’s surprisingly fair.”
He looked back to Ligne. “I thank you, my Lady, for the opportunity you offer.”
“You seem so eager, Pelmen. How is that, after six straight losses against me?”
“You may find I play quite differently when my life depends on it. As is customary in accepting the life-death challenge, I offer you choice of red or. blue.”
“Red or blue?” Ligne asked in mocking innocence. “Not green as well?”
Pelmen’s eyes narrowed. “Such a challenge traditionally means the green will be played by the dummy.” More needless words, Pelmen thought. He was indeed an innocent to think Ligne would challenge fairly! It was clear, now, what she intended.
“And I have just such a dummy in mind. Kherda, my Prime Minister.”
Her words touched off a wave of quiet protest among the crowd, for Pelmen had been quite correct in assuming she’d offered him a challenge to Green Dummy. Kherda was stung, not only by Ligne’s insult, but by her injustice as well. He shuffled to his feet. “My Lady! Is this fair?”
“To term you a dummy? Certainly it’s fair.”
“To issue such a challenge. Tradition clearly calls for ”
“This miserable actor came into my house to steal my throne! I’ve offered him the opportunity to free himself and his friends, and he’s accepted the wager.”
“Yes, but ”
“Kherda be silent!” Ligne commanded, and the old man gulped and closed his mouth. “You, of all people, should know that your Queen never plays Green Dummy.” Ligne spun gracefully to face Pelmen. “Or do you back down?” Her blue eyes mocked him.
“That would be a breach of etiquette, my Lady,” Pelmen replied tonelessly, “and we certainly can’t have that Shall we play?”
Ligne clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, let’s do!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Razor
THE PLAYERS WERE HELD ONSTAGE by a circle of guards while the Queen preceded them up the stairway. They watched helplessly as Rosha was dragged up the grand spiral after her, kicking and jerking all the way.
Serphimera, too, was led up the stairs, followed by Naquin. The pitiful skyfaither looked puzzled. Though he’d lived his entire life in the presence of political power, never had he witnessed such eccentric behavior as that he’d been exposed to in this court.
Pelmen watched them out of sight, then glanced at Yona Parmi. “What do you think?”
“What can I think?” Yona mumbled, shrugging. “Winning at Drax is hard enough when all three are battling each other. Two against one is impossible.”
“Why doesn’t she just kill us and get it over with?” Dan-yilyn muttered.
“What?” Gerrig snorted. “And forfeit her afternoon’s pleasure?”
“I’m sorry,” Pelmen said quietly, and they all turned to look at him.
“What for?” Yona asked him. “We all chose to come.”
“Gerrig didn’t.”
“I did, too!” Gerrig blustered, and Pelmen looked up at him in disbelief. “Before you go thinking this is your fault, you just remember it was I who led the battle in the caverns. And I’d do it again this morning.”
“We’re here,” Danyilyn broke in, her temper flaring. “What concerns me is how we’re going to get out. Pelmen, you’re a power shaper Is there any ”
“What you don’t realize is that he’s exhausted,” Yona Parmi interrupted. “There are limits to what a power shaper can do and he’s reached his.”
Danyilyn looked back and forth between them. “That’s it, then? It all depends on Drax?”
Yona Parmi looked at Pelmen. “Maybe not”
Pelmen read his mind. “The Power works through people, Yona. Perhaps there are limits even to what the Power can do.”
“Well,” Danyilyn said glumly, “I hope you’re on your game.”
“The Queen is ready for you now,” announced a servant from the stairway.
“I’ll bet she is,” Danyilyn snapped, and, herded by their guards, they all plodded up the stairs.
Spectators crammed the game room full and spilled out both its doors in the hallways. The troupe’s escort had to shove people aside to get the players through. Once inside, guards were no longer necessary, for the mob of court lings crushed back together in their wake, leaving no possible avenue of escape. The press of jabbering people, combined with the visual impact of their multicolored garments, served initially to disorient Pelmen, and he twisted around in confusion, looking for Ligne and the game table. The clamor prevented him from hearing Ligne’s summons, and a servant was sent to grab his hand and fetch him into the open space in the center of the room. His appearance there served as a cue for the gathered host to hush. Pelmen happened to glance at his feet, then stared down at the intricate patterns that had been painted on the floor. He’d been in here only two days before, but the room had been altered considerably in that short space of time.
This section had formerly been covered with mats, and had served as a kind of gymnasium for the practice of throws and falls and of fencing.
A glance at the walls told him many of the practice swords still hung there, a fact that would probably do him no good, since he’d never be able to get to one. His eyes were drawn back to the floor.
“What’s all this?” he asked, as the Queen gave instructions to her guards to clear the throng back off of the design.
“What does it look like, fool?” she replied. “You’re standing on a giant Drax board. You think these people could witness my triumph if we played on that tiny table?” He recognized it as the crowd surged back out of the way and noted, too, that Ligne’s throne had been positioned along the red flat. Rosha, a gag in his mouth, sat in the smaller throne next to her, struggling against the bonds that secured him to it. “I take it you’re playing red,” Pelmen murmured, his eyes on the lad.
“You did offer me the choice,” the queen sneered. Not only had she teamed herself with Kherda to outnumber him, she’d claimed the advantage of the first move.
Pelmen turned to his left to look at Kherda. “And the Prime Minister is green.” Kherda gazed back uncertainly.
“Which leaves you with blue.” Ligne smiled. “I thought that might please you, since you seem to have a certain affinity for the color.”
She turned her gaze in the direction of Serphimera, whose expression of dismay hadn’t changed,
“Where are the pieces?” he asked.
Ligne grinned, and clapped her hands. Guards blazed a new path through the crowd, leading ten tired looking creatures into the open area. Half were clothed in robes of bright crimson, the other half in kelly green, and each wore strangely shaped headgear. One man of each color wore a tri-cornered hat, another pair wore tall, conical caps, and so on. It was clear they had been costumed to represent Drax pieces. “Intriguing, isn’t it?” the queen purred. “I call it my living Drax set.”