The Golden Steed

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.

«I am happy to meet all three of you,» he said. «I am indeed the Pendarnoth, but I was once a warrior and a traveler named Richard Blade. You may call me by that name at the right time. I am sure you all will know when that time is.» They giggled again at the innuendo. Then he stretched his arms high over his head and grinned again. «I am happy to see you here. But I have fought battles and ridden for many long days. At the moment I want most of all things in Vilesh not three beautiful girls, or even one beautiful girl, but a hot bath.»

The girls giggled again. The blonde pointed to a cord hanging from the corner of the canopy and said, «Pull on that cord, and it will summon the servants.»

Blade pulled the cord. A perfect swarm of servants of both sexes materialized so fast that he wondered if they had sprouted from the walls and floor. They led him into another room where a gilded copper basin decorated with bird shapes stood in the center of the floor. Relays of men brought in steaming buckets of hot water and emptied them into the tub until it was full to the brim. Meanwhile the girls were stripping off Blade's travel-grimed clothes. The three were still stark naked, but obviously gave the matter no thought.

The heat of the water seemed to seep through Blade's flesh into his bones, draining the tension and fatigue out of him. Meanwhile, the three girls climbed into the tub around Blade and went industriously to work on him with soap and sponges. The heavily perfumed soap matched the luxury of everything else in the palace, and Blade decided he would relax and enjoy it as long as he stayed in this Dimension.

Or at least as long as he stayed in the palace, he reminded himself. He was not sure of what his duties as Pendarnoth were. He wasn't even sure if the term «duties» made any sense applied to him. He didn't know whether he was to be permanently on exhibition in the palace, as decorative and about as useful to Pendar as one of those gilded statues in the galleries. It was possible. Nobody he had seen or spoken to here showed any signs of even knowing that there was a Lanyri threat, let alone worrying about it. Was Guroth lying?

Perhaps. That was all he could say until he had talked to Klerus. The High Councilor would at least give him a little more to go on, although hardly the whole truth. In the meantime, there were a few things he could do himself.

The bath was over. The other servants drained the tub down a pipe in the corner of the room and left. The three girls stood around him, toweling him dry, combing his hair (every bit of it), and rubbing him with scented oils. He was going to smell like a bloody perfume shop if this kept up.

They were showing signs of wanting to lead him into the bedroom now-playful tugs on his ear, playful caresses of his genitals. Finally he picked the blonde up under one arm and the black haired girl under the other and carried them into the bedroom. He dumped them squealing on the bed, returned; picked up the brunette, and did the same with her. All three lay on their backs on the bed, arms over their heads, looking up at him expectantly.

He stood over them, yawned, and stretched. «Girls,» he said, «you have heard the stories, no doubt, that the Pendarnoth will have the strength of ten men.»

Two of them giggled, the blonde girl nodded and said, «We have. Is it just a story-or are we going to find out?»

«Not tonight, little ones. As I told you, there is much of the man in me, and that man has fought hard and ridden far. Tonight I doubt if I would have the strength of one man. I would need the strength of at least three to do all of you justice. And I will not do you less than justice by picking out one of you. As a matter of fact, I couldn't make a choice among you if I had to. Each of you is as beautiful as the others.» That was true. They were beautiful in different ways, but there was very little to choose among when you got right down to it.

Then he noticed something that brought him abruptly to the alert. The gaiety and lightness had vanished from all three girls' faces, and in its place was unmistakable tension, even fear. The girls weren't playing now. Something had genuinely frightened them.

He looked at the blonde. She seemed to be the spokeswoman for the three, or at least the one with the readiest tongue. «What is it, girl? Have I frightened you? Has my face suddenly turned green or something, so that you think suddenly I'm not a man at all?»

The joke fell flat. The blonde's blue eyes were wide as she stared up at him. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. «Please. You can't-you mustn't-you won't send us away. Please.»

«Why not?» He half-suspected the reason, but he wanted to be sure.

«The c-c-chamberlain will think you-you didn't like us. And if a man doesn't like us-if we can't p-p-please him-«

«The chamberlain beats you?»

Surprise showed in all three sets of eyes. «How did you know?»

«I told you, I have traveled far. It is a custom in many lands.» A vile and ugly custom, he added mentally. Perhaps he might use some of his influence as Pendarnoth to get it changed around here? But that was for the future. For now the girls had given him an opening he badly needed.

«I understand. But I will tell Klerus himself why I did not take any of you. I will tell him the same things I have told you. I think he will understand. And I am sure that the High Councilor of the Council of Regents can tell a mere chamberlain of the palace not to beat three innocent girls.»

He got the reaction he was looking for. All three of the girl's started at the Klerus! name as though they had been stung or whipped. All three went even paler than before. The brunette actually burst into tears. The blonde tried to calm her by patting her on the shoulder. But Blade noticed the second girl's hand was shaking as she did so. He waited until all three of them seemed a little calmer, then said, «What is the matter now? Don't you think Klerus can keep the chamberlain from beating you?»

«Please, Pendarnoth,» said the blonde. «Don't speak to Klerus. He is… he distrusts everybody. If you told him about us, he would become suspicious. And when he becomes suspicious of somebody, worse can happen to them than just a beating. A beating is nothing.»

So Klerus distrusted everybody. Was that really anything Blade couldn't have guessed about a palace politician, good or bad? Probably not. But it was useful to have some confirmation. And he owed the girls something for that.

«All right,» he said. «I will not speak to Klerus. The three of you may spend the night here and share my dinner and my bed. But as I said, I want to do justice to you when I have my full strength. So you will go in the morning, and I will tell the chamberlain a magnificent tale. I will describe you as women of such qualities as most can only dream of having. I think that will keep the whips away from your backs.»

The girls knelt before him and would have literally kissed his feet if he had not patted them lightly on the heads. «Rise up, girls. This is not the way to salute a man. Now, do I ring that same bell for dinner, or what?»