Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [56]
“Oh!” Deanna exclaimed, apparently taken aback by the grisly sight. The Dragon turned his face toward her. “I’m so sorry, Your Excellence. I forgot myself.”
The old man’s cherubic face beamed at her. “That is quite all right, my dear. It’s good to see a little life in a young woman, not to mention such delicate sensibilities. Your captain must find you very refreshing, eh?” He poked Picard in the ribs.
Picard suppressed an urge to flinch. “I take it there is something exceptional about this animal?”
“Fresh p’u tzu,” the Dragon declared proudly. “It has a gland about here—” He poked the rabbit-thing’s abdomen. “—where it stores all the toxins it would ordinarily release into its urine. What we like to do is to remove the gland, and braise it lightly with peppers. It’s very piquant; I think you’ll appreciate the maturity of its flavor.”
Picard swallowed. “I am sure it will be as delightful as everything you have offered.”How many Pai delicacies must I eat, he wondered, before I get an opportunity to discuss the treaty with the Dragon? “Perhaps we might retire and let the cooks resume their work?”
“What?” the Dragon said, momentarily confused. Then he glanced down at prostrate kitchen staff. “Oh, yes. Up, up, everyone! We mustn’t keep Captain Picard waiting.” The Dragon took Picard by the arm and led him over to a long wooden bench next to a open fireplace full of smoldering coals. The various cooks jumped up the minute the Dragon’s back was turned and hastily gathered around the p’u tzu. Picard noted that their formerly heated discussion was now much more subdued.
The Dragon sat astride the bench and gestured for Picard to do the same. Lifting one leg over the low bench, Picard sat down facing the Emperor. Deanna quietly placed herself on a stone ledge in front of the fireplace.
“It won’t be long now,” the Dragon promised. “They are extracting the gland even as we speak. It should be eaten instantly so we will dine on it here, in the kitchen like peasants. Amusing, no?”
“Yes, quite,” Picard murmured. “While we wait, now might be a good time to discuss the treaty a bit further.”
“Are you still on about that?” the Dragon exclaimed in amazement. “Take some time off, Picard! Treat yourself to a holiday.”
“You are most generous, Excellence, but I fear I cannot fully relax until I have discharged my duty to both the Federation and the Dragon Empire.”
“You are a persistent man, Picard,” the Dragon said. “I admire that—up to a point.” Perhaps he would have said more, but Mu suddenly burst into the kitchen. The chamberlain was breathing heavily, as though he had run a long way, and beads of sweat dotted his brow. Picard noticed that Mu held on to a small black box as though his life depended on it.
“Ah, there you are, Most Excellent and Exalted One!” Mu gasped. “I have been looking everywhere for you.” His wide eyes took in the messy, busy appearance of the kitchen, as well as the simple hardwood bench upon which the Dragon and Picard now sat. “Exalted One, you need not rest your sacred frame upon so humble a seat. I will summon the Imperial bearers to fetch a throne immediately.”
“Never mind that,” the Dragon said, dismissing the chamberlain’s concerns with a wave of his pudgy hand. “Did you bring it as I commanded?”
“Yes, Exalted One,” Mu said quickly. He proffered the black box to the Emperor, who snatched it out of his trembling hands.
“Excellent,” the Dragon chortled. He turned his attention back to Picard. “Do you play ch’i, Captain?”
“Ch’i, Excellence?”
“A marvelous game, Picard, a most civilized game. You must learn it.” The Dragon snapped open the polished wooden carrying case, revealing a design not unlike a chessboard, along with several sculpted figurines carved from ivory and obsidian. The Dragon laid the board flat upon the bench between him and Picard. The Starfleet