Pirates Of Gohar

Chapter 9

The night was warm, and Blade and Elyana lay on the grass in the little clearing for hours, breathing the scent of the flowering trees and of each other. In those slow and lovely hours, they explored every inch of each other's bodies.

Finally Elyana gently pushed Blade's hands away from her breasts, sat up, looked at the torn and grass-stained remnants of her gown, and started to laugh. «Blade, could you look through the gardens and see if there are any clothes lying around that I could put on? I'd rather not return looking like this.»

«Do you think there will be any stray clothes?»

«I'll be surprised if there aren't. We weren't the only people spending the night this way.»

Blade laughed and started pulling on his pants.

That was his first night with Elyana. It wasn't his last, but there were fewer meetings than he'd expected, considering the hunger and passion she'd shown in the garden. Blade understood her reasons. No one expected a husband in Gohar to be faithful to his wife, but unfaithful wives could be set aside or even sent to the Island of Shells. Matters would be even more delicate when it was the wife of the heir to the Imperial throne.

One rainy afternoon they were lying on a flower-draped couch in the little shelter by Elyana's private swimming pond. The princess raised herself on one elbow and spoke.

«Blade, if you worry about offending Harkrat-don't waste your strength. You need it for other things.» She patted him in a way that made clear what «other things» she had in mind.

«You know him better than I do, Elyana,» said Blade. «I'll believe you, if you'll explain why this is so.»

«If I explain, will everyone in England know what I tell you?»

«No. I can leave anything you tell me out of my report. Not even my fellow Historians will know the details of your personal life.»

«Will you do that?»

Blade was about to agree, then realized he had a priceless opportunity to ask a few blunt questions about Gohar's secrets. «I will, if you will tell me what I need to know about Mythor.»

«Mythor?»

«You know. Mythor and its rebels.»

Elyana stiffened as if he'd jabbed her with a knife, and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. «You know?» It was almost a whimper, but not the kind she let out in passion. Now she sounded more like a small animal with its paw caught in a trap.

«I know just enough to want to learn more. Unfortunately, I haven't yet figured out a way to ask the right questions without Kloret hearing about it. I don't want that.»

«Kloret?»

«Yes.» He told her of his conversation with Kloret, and the Prime Minister's interest in Gohar's daughter city. By the time he'd finished, Elyana was laughing. She went on laughing until Blade realized she was on the edge of hysterics. He took her in his arms, kissed her lips, then her breasts. He stroked and caressed her until her laughter turned to moans and sobs.

When they were quiet again she said, «Blade, I don't suppose I can really do anything to you if you break your promise. At least not without injuring Harkrat and Gohar. Do I have your word of honor that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?»

«You do.»

What Elyana had to tell Blade was very simple. Prince Harkrat, heir to the throne of Gohar, was impotent. Completely and hopelessly. He'd been that way ever since he reached what would have been manhood in a healthy prince. He was a fine physical specimen in every other way, but one vital part of his body simply would not do what nature intended.

An idea seemed to strike Elyana suddenly. «Blade, are the English as far ahead of us in medicine as in everything else? Perhaps if you-«

Blade shook his head sadly. «Elyana, I am a Historian, not a doctor. I know just enough about medicine to know that your husband's case would be far beyond my skills. I might maim or kill him if I tried anything. Besides, would he be willing to let me know his shame? I would help him if I could, but I don't see that I can.»

«I suppose not,» said Elyana, and went on with her story.

Harkrat was no intellectual giant, but he was shrewd enough to realize that he'd have to learn to live with his flaw. If he didn't, he would ruin more than himself-he would ruin the Gohar his father had spent many years keeping at peace.

«And he's a kind man,» said the princess. «He'd have been a wonderful father if the gods had made him otherwise. As it is, he sees every Goharan as his son or daughter, to watch over and care for.»

«What about the three children you've presented as his?»

That was the most closely guarded secret in Gohar. Each of the three children was Elyana's by a different father, a nobleman carefully chosen for his healthy stock, resemblance to Harkrat, and total discretion. One of the three fathers had been killed in battle five years ago, and so far the other two had held their tongues.

«I think the Emperor would have had all three of them quietly killed,» said Elyana. «But Harkrat wouldn't have it. He said it would dishonor the throne.»

So the two surviving noblemen, Harkrat, Elyana, and the Emperor alone knew a secret which could shake the throne of Gohar.

«Are you sure about that?' said Blade. He stared at Elyana, until she lowered her eyes and with her face against his chest shook her head. «No. Kloret has the secret.»

«Did he learn it himself, or was he told because he has the Emperor's blood in him?»

A long silence, then: «Blade, do I have to tell you anything? Or can you see everything at a glance?»

«I can see that Kloret could very nearly be your husband's brother. Is he?»

«No. Only a cousin. Thrayket had a younger brother, who died of a fever two years before Thrayket became Emperor. Kloret is his bastard son. But that's another secret.»

«I suppose everyone else at court these past thirty years has been so near-sighted they can't see what I saw the first time I met Kloret?»

Blade couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, even though he knew it was unfair. The more he learned about this net of intrigue he'd fallen into, the less he liked it, even though he felt sorry for some of the Goharans involved.

Elyana shook her head again. «No, Blade. A great many people have seen it. But everyone who knows the truth has always denied it.»

«Including Kloret himself?»

«Yes.»

«But at a price, I suppose?»

She sighed. «Of course. The price was being made Baiham. Since he's a wise man and a good soldier, I don't think he was a bad choice!» She said this almost defiantly.

«No,» said Blade. «But I imagine that as Baiham he was in a much better position to learn Harkrat's secret.»

Elyana honestly didn't know. Certainly nobody would admit telling Kloret, but just as certainly he behaved as if he knew. If he was bluffing, it was a bluff they didn't dare risk calling, not, when he could start a civil war if he really knew.

Fortunately Kloret played his cards very carefully. He never asked for any favors or privileges which would arouse suspicion or jealousy. He only asked for what would make his own position secure. A few estates, a house in Gohar, a squadron of galleys whose captains took orders from him, the right to hire bodyguards more or less as he pleased-all this would pass as the eagerness of a loyal servant of the Emperor to equip himself for the job.

«He also asked one other thing,» said Elyana. «That we not send our spies where he'd already put his own.»

Blade laughed. His experience with the bureaucratic politics of intelligence organizations told him what came next. «And one of those places was Mythor?»

«Yes. So I truly can't tell you what is happening in the south. There are rebels in the city, or at least men who might become rebels. Harkrat has a few men there, and they've learned that much. But he doesn't dare try to learn more, or Kloret will accuse us of breaking the agreement.»

So matters stood. Kloret played the spider, spinning his webs. Harkrat did his public duties and tried to keep up his spirits as well as he could. Most of the time he succeeded. Elyana gave her husband all the help she could, and occasionally refreshed herself with discreet affairs. She preferred men who were not only virile but intelligent.

«If I'd been a man, I think I would have entered one of the houses of scholars and scribes. As a woman, I could not, and Harkrat doesn't give me much help there. He's good and kind and seldom turns his anger against me, and he's wiser than many think who only know how he babbles in his wine. But he would never have made a scholar.» They'd gone on like this for many years, and they might go on for many more if Thrayket lived. Unfortunately it wasn't just Blade's imagination that the Emperor was near the end of his life.

«If he lasts out this year, it will be a miracle. If he lives two years, I will build a shrine to HemiGohar with my own hands, and mix the mortar with Kloret's blood!» The soft body against Blade stiffened at the last words.

It was a race against time. Slowly, quietly, and so far without detection, Harkrat and Elyana had been building up their own system of trusted people and spies. If the Emperor lived another two years, the prince might have a chance to strike at Kloret before the Prime Minister could defend himself.

«And if he dies, his schemes die with him. He has no heirs except his daughter Fierssa, and a girl her age can hardly keep alive a plot against the Emperor.» Blade remembered the gray-eyed girl flashing her bare leg at him. He turned to Elyana, kissed each nipple once, and sat up.

«So you can't tell me about affairs in Mythor. In fact, I suppose you'd be happy if I could learn about them and tell you.»

Elyana stared. «You'd be willing to do that for us?»

«Why not?» said Blade. «Frankly, I don't much care for people like Kloret. Nine times out of ten, they do more harm than good. So I'll go to Mythor and look around. If I'm sure that defeating Kloret won't change history, I'll help.

«Don't expect miracles, either. I can't just disappear and slip off to the south. That would cause too much talk. I'll have to go openly, and I'm fairly sure Kloret already has men watching me. I doubt if he'll strike at me, but he might accuse you of violating the agreement about spies in Mythor.»

Elyana shrugged. «If he does that, I'll take all the blame myself. Then he'll have to try to get Harkrat to repudiate me, and that will throw him into a whole new fight.»

«Just be careful he doesn't decide to have you killed,» said Blade. He bent down and kissed her shoulder. The skin was like satin, and she was using a new perfume today.

She started to shrug again, then — suddenly her face broke and she threw both arms around Blade, pulling him down beside her. «Blade, I'm frightened. I don't want to be, but I can't help it. I think somehow it's your fault.»

«Mine?»

«Yes. Before you came, I couldn't really see there was much hope for us. Now-well, you're something new. Something Kloret may not understand until it's too late. Now I can hope again, and somehow that frightens me.»

Blade was going to tell her again not to expect miracles, but she was arching upward to bring her lips to his and their bodies together. This was no time for talking, only for giving her the reassurance she needed in the way she needed it.

For the first few days after his talk with Elyana, Blade had no time to even think about Mythor, Kloret, the problems of princes, or the plots of Gohar. He was moved bag and baggage to an eight-room suite in one wing of the main palace. The reception hall of the suite was larger than his whole villa in the garden, and the other rooms were in proportion.

At least a dozen permanent servants and as many more on call came with the suite. Blade tried to get this mob reduced as much as he could without making too much of a fuss, then gave up. He simply had to accept the fact that he'd probably have Kloret's spies underfoot morning, noon, and night.

Fortunately, things could be worse. Blade was fairly sure he could give anyone in Gohar the slip if they tried to trail him. Eavesdropping could be more of a problem, but Blade knew all the precautions there too. There was something to be said for primitive societies, when it came to getting involved in political conspiracies. No number of human ears any Prime Minister could buy were equal to one good technician and a dozen well-placed microphones.

For several days, Blade suspected Kloret's spies were close to dying of boredom at what they overheard. He certainly was. Once again the petitioners swarmed around him, trying to make sure their names would be recorded by the Historians of England a thousand years in the future. Now that he was no longer shut in the villa, everybody with access to the palace could come and bother him. Sometimes it seemed to Blade this included half the population of Gohar. When he heard the Third Keeper of the Emperor's racing stable beg to be remembered as a man who was always kind to his horses, it was hard not to laugh in the poor man's face.

Then suddenly one night Blade had a visitor he couldn't laugh at.