Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [131]
“The noble Tarin has not been heard from in many months. How come you lot to know of him?” The senior of the two guards was trying to watch all three of the foreigners simultaneously. For the time being, he ignored the big cat that was snoozing prominently on the pavement.
Simna was forced to defer back to his companion. Noting that his spear was not as long as the sentry’s pike, Ehomba once again retold the tale of how he had found Tarin Beckwith and many of his countrymen washed up on the beach below the village of the Naumkib, and of how the young nobleman had expired in his arms. Fully alert now, the guards listened intently, wholly absorbed in the story.
When Ehomba had concluded his tale, the second guard spoke up. “I knew young Beckwith. Not well—I am far below his station—but there were several occasions on which he joined the palace guard on maneuvers. He was a fine person, a true gentleman, who never put on airs and enjoyed a good bawdy joke or a pint of lager. Everyone in Laconda and Laconda North had hoped . . .” The younger man was unable to continue. Evidently the Count’s son had been not just liked, but loved, by the populace.
“I am sorry,” Ehomba commiserated simply. “There was nothing I could do for him. He was a victim of this warlock who calls himself Hymneth the Possessed.”
“Abductor of the fair Themaryl, the Visioness, the greatest glory of the Lacondas.” The senior guard sounded wistful. “I never saw her myself, but I’ve spoken with others who had the privilege. They say that her grace and beauty eclipsed that of the sun itself.” His tone darkened. “If what you say is true, then because of this evil magician the Lacondas have lost both her and the noble Tarin.” The echo of hastening footsteps made him turn.
A dozen palace sentinels were arriving on the run, led by the two who had formerly been helping to guard the front gate. Badly out of breath, one of these performed an odd salute that the senior among the staff returned with a stiff snap of one hand.
“The Count wishes to see these travelers immediately, without delay!” The messenger gasped for air. “They are to be brought to the main dining chamber, where they will be received by the Count and the Countess themselves!” He looked over at the two men and their odd companions with new respect.
Frowning uncertainly, the senior guard hesitated. “What about the big cat?”
Sucking wind, the messenger nodded sharply. “It is to be conducted to the dining chamber as well. The palace adviser said clearly to bring all four of them.”
“As they wish.” Turning back to Ehomba, the senior guard smiled encouragingly. “Don’t be intimidated by the palace, or by any representatives of the court you find yourselves introduced to. They’re a pretty inoffensive bunch. Laconda North is a very serene country. As for the Count, he’s been known to bluster a lot, but not to bully. The fact that he wishes to see you himself is a good sign.”
“We’re not intimidated by anything.” Simna swept grandly past the guard station. “We’ve fought Corruption and Chlengguu, crossed the Hrugars and the Aboqua, brought down pieces of the sky on our enemies, and made the weather dance to our songs. Mere men we do not fear.”
The guard forced himself not to laugh. “Just speak soft and true and you will get along well with the Count. He is not fond of braggarts.”
“Hoy,” declared Simna as he marched importantly down between the double line of soldiers that had formed up to escort them into the palace, “I don’t brag. I only tell the truth. Honest ibn Sind, they call me.”
As Ehomba passed the friendly, encouraging sentry, he whispered to him in passing. “Please understand, it is not that my friend is being boastful. He talks like this all the time.”
The parade ground seemed endless as they crossed it under the watchful eyes of the heavily armed escort, but eventually they reached