Jango (18 page)

The Jahan considered this with his habitual suspicion. He was enough of a showman to appreciate the plan; and his men, he knew, would be grateful for the pleasures of the promised feast. If possible, he preferred to enter a conquered city unopposed. It left more of the service systems intact: the food suppliers, the woodcutters, the water carriers. Burning and slaughtering, though invaluable for establishing authority, left an unpleasant mess. Also, he reflected, he could always destroy the city after the feast.

"Very well," he said. "The Great Jahan is merciful."

"Excellent," said Radiant Leader. "It remains only to decide the order in which you and I will enter the city. The choice is yours, of course."

"I shall lead," declared the Jahan proudly.

"But you wouldn't want it to look as if I and my axers were driving you before us, like sheep before a dog."

"Certainly not! You shall go before me."

"And look as if I lead, and you follow?"

"Great horns of hell! What am I to do?"

"I would suggest that we enter the city side by side. But the choice, noble sir, is yours."

So it was done. The palanquin of Radiant Leader turned about, and the chariot of the Great Jahan rolled slowly by its side, and the two leaders entered the city of Radiance together.

Echo Kittle rode into the city behind the Jahan's entourage, her mind full of the coming celebration and her own dilemma. She memorized the route as they went, in case she needed to escape in a hurry. The city gates were clearly never closed. The streets were broad and lined with imposing houses. Ahead lay the still waters of the lake. And towering above all was the dark mass of the temple rock, with the temple climbing its sides.

Between the temple and the lake, in the wide square bounded by arcades, a series of large linked pavilions had been erected. Radiant Leader climbed out of his conveyance, and Amroth Jahan stepped out of his chariot, and together they entered the great tent. The Jahan's sons and Echo dismounted and followed behind.

The Jahan was impressed. Long tables laden with food were interspersed with cascades of bright flowers, even now in midwinter. Lamps glowed on every pole of the forest of supporting masts. Everywhere shone the glitter of gold. Gold was the signature color of Radiance, and here, in this palace of pleasure, the chairs were gold and the tablecloths were gold and the elegantly bunched drapes that formed the scalloped ceiling were all cloth of gold.

The Jahan felt himself mellowing. Radiant Leader, he noted with satisfaction, was even shorter than he was himself. But he was clever. On the whole, the Jahan was forming a favorable opinion of the fellow. He was amused by the way all who approached him averted their eyes from his face, and murmured some low prayer. It was absurd, of course, but it did have the effect of surrounding the priest-king with a certain mystery. He found himself wondering how Radiant Leader retained his hold on his people. He took the trouble to listen for the words of the prayer, the soft mumble that issued from the lips of everyone who came close.

"Choose me," they were saying. "Choose me."

"What is it they want?" he asked curiously. "They ask you to choose them. For what?"

"Ah, that." Radiant Leader now sounded grave. "The chosen ones go to eternal life."

Then the Jahan remembered the procession in the forest.

"They go dressed in white, and singing?"

"Just so."

"But it's all nonsense, of course."

"Is it?" said Radiant Leader. "Perhaps you know more of the matter than I do."

"I only know death comes for us all."

"Even for the Great Jahan? I can't believe that. You are the conqueror of all the peoples of the world. Surely you can conquer death?"

"Show me the way and I'll do it."

"Ah, noble sir. To conquer death you must submit to a power greater than yourself. I think submission is not in your nature."

"What power greater than myself? A god? I've never met a god yet. There may be gods around, but they take good care to keep out of my way."

He laughed a proud, booming laugh. Echo, who had heard this exchange, presumed to speak.

"You met the Nomana."

The Jahan stopped laughing abruptly and scowled at her.

"Next time you speak out of turn I'll have you tied to a barrel and lashed."

"And stain my bridal dress with blood?"

"What do I care if you bleed so long as you do as I say," growled the Jahan. Then not wanting to prolong his confrontation with this unmanageable girl, he said to his host, "I plan to hold a wedding ceremony here. One of my sons is to marry this impertinent tree sprite."

"A wedding!" said Radiant Leader. "When is it to be?"

"The sooner the better. Tonight. Do you have any objection?"

"None whatsoever. The city and people of Radiance will be honored to host the happy event. Which of your sons, may I ask, is the joyful bridegroom?"

The Jahan glowered at his three sons. They stood in a row, eyes cast down, shuffling their feet.

"That has yet to be decided," he said grimly.

Soren Similin had good reason to be pleased with his day's work; but as he knew all too well, this was only the beginning. As soon as he could get free from his alarming new friends, he hurried into the temple and climbed the stairs to his private quarters on the third floor. Here his servants removed his corona, which gave him neck ache, and his gold cape, which made him sweat even in winter, and left him alone. He hastened through his private bedchamber to the courtyard garden beyond, a favorite retreat of his from the burdens and pressures of his elevated position. Now, however, the bay tree and the vines were gone. The courtyard was walled with tall racks of glass tubes. The central space was a scene of feverish activity as metalworkers assembled pipes and rods, and glassworkers attached yet more glass tubes.

In the middle of it all, the little scientist Evor Ortus ran back and forth measuring, checking, and admonishing.

"The angle must be exact! Not a single degree out. We have so little direct sunlight here."

Similin had to tap the scientist on the shoulder to attract his attention.

"How's it coming along, Professor?"

"Well enough. Well enough."

"When will you be ready?"

"Soon, soon. Within the week."

"Within the week? You promised me three days."

"It was you who said three days, not me. But we'll do our best."

He turned his attention to a side table, on which stood a small wire cage.

Similin became agitated.

"Listen to me, Professor. You must deliver me some of your charged water by the end of the day after tomorrow."

He didn't tell Ortus that this was when he was due to swear an oath of allegiance to the Great Jahan. He understood all too well that the crazy scientist would have little sympathy for his dilemma.

"I don't need much. Just enough to give everyone a glimpse of the power at my disposal. At our disposal, that is."

Professor Ortus seemed not to have noticed his slip. He was studying a little creature that was confined in the cage.

"And the ramp?" he said. "You've given orders for it to be built?"

"Of course," said Similin, though he had done nothing of the kind. He regarded Ortus's giant ramp as sheer folly. Much as he would like to destroy Anacrea, some more subtle means must be found in due course. For the present, his concern was the Jahan and his vast army.

The scientist was now feeding the creature in the cage.

"What have you got in there, Professor?"

"A mouse," said Ortus.

"What do you want a mouse for?"

"For tests. The details need not concern you."

He turned round and, for the first time, addressed Similin directly, in a manner that was not at all respectful.

"Work on the ramp must begin at once. As for the charged water, I have calculated that I need twenty liters."

"Twenty? Last time it was only four."

"Last time a carrier was to take the weapon to the heart of the Nom. This time we send our bomb flying through the air. We can't be sure where it will land. Twenty liters of charged water will certainly destroy the island, wherever it lands."

"But so much! How long will it take?"

"It will take as long as it takes."

"Then please, when production begins, set aside the first spoonful for me. Without that, I can't protect you."

Ortus frowned with displeasure.

"You mean to use the explosive power of my charged water against this invader?"

"For the purposes of persuasion only."

"What is he to be persuaded to do?"

The little scientist clearly felt suspicious of any scheme that was not part of his own design. Similin had had no more in mind than a demonstration of power. But at that moment an entirely new idea formed in his head, which neatly linked all the objectives currently before him. The idea, which he saw in its entirety in a single flash of brilliant insight, pleased him so much that he beamed at the prickly scientist and clasped him by the hand.

"We must persuade him to turn his army on Anacrea," he said. "That way we can distract the Nomana from the true assault. Which will, of course, come from your magnificent ramp."

On returning to his guests, Similin found that a curious ritual was under way. The pale and elegant girl they had brought with them was seated on a raised chair, while the Great Jahan and all his entourage were gathered round like spectators at a show. Seeing his host enter the pavilion, Amroth Jahan hailed him and invited him too to watch.

"My sons are about to make their love speeches," he said. "The girl then chooses the one she likes best."

"Do they all love her?" said Similin, drawing up a chair.

"They do as I tell them," said the Jahan.

"And what if the young lady chooses none of them?"

"She'll do as I tell her," said the Jahan.

"Then surely, noble sir," said Similin, "it would be simpler all round if you were to make the match yourself?"

"Make the match myself? You mean marry the girl myself?"

"No, no. I mean pick one of your sons to marry her, and it's done."

"Ah, that. I thought you were suggesting I marry her myself. But I have two wives already. And she's too young for me. Don't you think so?"

"Far too young."

"So one of my boys'll have her. Not that they'll appreciate her. She's a rare one. Beauty combined with spirit. Dropped out of a tree. That was a surprise."

He pointed to his eldest son, Sasha.

"Get on with it, oaf."

Sasha Jahan took a few steps forward and stood before Echo's raised chair. He licked his lips and began to speak, clearly reciting from memory.

"I am my father's first son. When he dies, I will become the Great Jahan and will rule the empire he has won. Out of respect for my father, and to carry on his line as he has indicated he wishes, it is your duty to become my wife and give me sons who will grow strong and proud and bring honor to the Orlan tribes. This is not a matter in which either you or I should consider our own wishes. The family of Jahan knows its duty. I will do mine. I ask that you do yours."

His father listened to this speech, nodding with approval.

"Not so bad, my boy. I can see you've given the matter some thought. However"—he raised his silver-handled whip—"I will make the final choice of successor, when my time comes. I may choose you. I may choose Alva or Sabin. I may choose someone else altogether."

Sasha, dismayed, started to protest, but his father silenced him.

"Alva. Your turn to speak."

The Jahan's second son stepped forward.

"My father has asked you," he said to Echo, "to choose not from duty, but according to your own wishes. Name any quality that a woman seeks in a man, and all the world knows I am superior in that quality to my brothers. I am the tallest. I am the strongest. I am the most handsome. I say this not to boast, but to tell you honestly what you can see for yourself. Take my older brother out of duty if you must. But if you follow your own desires, as my father has ordered you to do, you will take me."

The Jahan smiled at this, amused by his son's strutting confidence.

"Ah, Alva," he said, patting him on the back. "I was just the same at your age."

Echo looked on, expressionless and silent, stroking the little finger of her left hand.

"Sabin!"

The Jahan's third son stepped forward.

"My lady," he said, bowing respectfully towards her. "I have no empire to give you. I am the least of my brothers. But I've watched you since you came among us, and I think I know you better than they do. I've seen how you're afraid, but brave in facing your fear. You anger quickly, but you're wise in controlling your anger. You love your horse, and your horse loves you, and that tells me that you're a true Orlan, in spirit if not in blood. I know you want none of this marrying. I know you'd run away if you could. But my father has spoken and must be obeyed. Since you must choose one of us, choose me, and I will do my best to make you happy."

The Jahan laughed out loud.

"What a boy!" he cried. "Where did that all come from? Did you get that from the cook?"

"No, Father," said Sabin quietly. "It's from me."

Echo was gazing at him in some confusion. She had prepared herself to endure arrogance and indignity; she had not been ready for kindness. She found herself touched almost to the point of tears. But she felt the Jahan's eyes on her, and she steadied herself and revealed nothing. Here, years of habit came to her aid. She pushed the troublesome thoughts out of her mind.

Just don't think it.

The Jahan himself now rose and stood before her.

"So, Princess. My sons have spoken. Now you must choose."

Echo was ready. She had made her plan in the long sleepless hours of the night gone by.

"Great Jahan," she said. "Your first son asks me to choose him out of duty. Your second son asks me to choose him out of desire. Your third son asks me to choose him for my own happiness. But I want to do my duty and to follow my desire and to be happy, all at once. I want all three."