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realms."
"You may take for granted my desire that they continue."
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"Excellent. I assume that you intend a smooth continuity between the policies
of Jochaim and your own?"
Efraim began to sense a pressure behind Rianlle's suave remarks. He said
cautiously: "In many cases, no doubt this will be true. In others, the simple
mutability of life and circumstance dictates changes."
"A prudent and flexible point of view! Allow me to offer my commendation! In
the relations between Eccord and Scharrode there will be no mutability; I
would like to assure you that I intend to honor to the letter every commitment
made by me to Jochaim; I would like to hear that the converse holds true."
Efraim made an affable gesture. "Let us not talk high policy at this moment.
I am not yet in command of all the facts and anything I could now say would be
tentative. But since our two realms are so closely knit in amity, what
benefits one benefits the other, and you may be assured that I intend to do my
best for Scharrode."
Rianlle glanced sharply at Efraim, then stared toward the ceiling. "Agreed;
large matters may wait. There is one rather inconsequential issue which we can
easily resolve now, without prejudice to your program. I refer to that trifle
of territory along Whispering Ridge where I wish to build a pavilion for our
mutual enjoyment. Jochaim was on the point of signing the parcel over to me
when he met his death."
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"I wonder if there was any connection between the two events," mused Efraim.
"Of course not! How could there be?"
"My imagination is overactive. In regard to Whispering Ridge I must admit an
aversion toward yielding so much as a square inch of our sacred Scharrode
soil; still, I will study the matter."
"Not satisfactory!" Rianlle's voice had taken on an edge, and sang like a
vibrating wire. "I am thwarted in my wishes!"
"Is anyone ever continually and completely gratified? Let us talk no more of
the subject. Perhaps I can induce the Lissolet to contrive a series of
stimulating atmospheres . . ."
At the great twenty-sided table in the Formal Reception Chamber, Rianlle sat
stiff and glum. Sthelany formulated a series of fumes, somehow suggesting a
walk over the hills - soil and sunlit vegetation, water and wet rocks, the
perfume of anthion and wood violet, mold, rotten wood, and camphor. She worked
without Singhalissa's deftness, rather seeming to amuse herself among the
vials as a child might play with colored chalks. Sthelany's fingers began to
move faster; she bad become interested in her contrivances as a musician
suddenly perceives meanings in his music which he is forced to explicate. Gone
was the hillside, away the forest; the vapors were at first gay, tart, and
light; gradually they lost character, only to become sweetly melancholic, like
heliotrope in a forgotten garden. And this odor in turn became pervaded with a
bitter exudation, then a salt pungency, then a final despairing black reek.
Sthelany looked up with a twisted smile and closed the drawers.
Rianlle uttered an ejaculation: "You have performed with enormous artistry;
you have shaken us all with cataclysmic visions!"
Efraim looked around the table. Destian sat toying with a silver bracelet;
Singhalissa sat stiff and staring; the eiodarks of Eccord muttered together.
Lorcas stared in wonder toward Sthelany. Efraim thought: he is totally
fascinated, but he had better make his emotion less overt, or he will be
accused of sebalism.
Rianlle turned to Efraim. "When you said murder, you used an inglorious word
to describe the death of the honored Jochaim. How then will you deal with that
dog Gosso?"
Efraim held his face immobile against a surge of annoyance. He had used the
word murder perhaps indiscreetly; but need Rianlle blurt out the details of
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what Efraim had considered a confidential conversation? He felt the sudden
interest of both Singhalissa and Destian.
"I have made no precise plans. I plan to end the war with Gorgetto on one
basis or another; it is useless and it bleeds us white."
"If I understand you correctly, you intend to prosecute only useful wars?"
"If wars there must be, I intend to fight for only tangible and necessary
goals. I do not regard war as entertainment and I shall not hesitate to use
unusual tactics."
Rianlle's smile was almost openly contemptuous.
"Scharrode is a small realm. Realistically, you are at the mercy of your
neighbors, no matter how peculiar your campaigns."
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"Your opinions of course carry great weight," said Efraim.
Rianlle went on in a measured voice. "I recall some previous discussion of a
trisme, that the fortunes of Scharrode and Eccord might be joined. The subject
at this moment is perhaps premature in view of the chaotic circumstances here
in Scharrode."
From the corner of his eye Efraim noted a shifting of positions around the
table, as tense muscles demanded relief. He met the dark gaze of Sthelany;
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