Gurtho had taken the advice to heart. An actual wife was necessary to provide an undisputed heir. Which he now had, along with younger backups, in case the first died or proved unsuitable. But he'd bought his bride, rather than marry politically or in passion. To satisfy his gluttony for women-beyond ladies of the court-there were tax girls. Those he got pregnant he had killed. The others, when he tired of them, he sold, perhaps after loaning them to one of his officers as a sign of the Royal Favor.
Word of the embassy's arrival was brought by the captain of the envoy's guard, ushered in by Rogell, the palace chief of protocol. The envoy, the captain said, was tired from her ride. At her request, the embassy had been shown to its apartments, where they would bathe and nap and have their hair dressed before supper (which the envoy hoped she and her deputy might eat with His Majesty).
She could have paid her respects first, Gurtho thought. Well. At supper then. He ordered Rogell to take word to the steward that supper was to be private-the Dynast's envoy, her deputy, and His Majesty. A formal reception would be scheduled for a later date, with appropriate guests.
At supper, Gurtho was hard-pressed not to stare. Briefly he was disconcerted that they looked so young, but the envoy's self-possession soon dispelled that. Their beauty was not so easily recovered from, and Idri, he had no doubt, was the most desirable woman he'd ever seen. Even her name he found seductive, and spoke it in his mind. Idri!
Still, he ate essentially as he might have. Their small talk went well enough, and neither woman was aloof, nor even reserved. When they'd finished dessert, it was the envoy who brought up business. "The Dynast is interested in establishing a permanent embassy here," she said.
"Indeed?" He wondered if Idri might be named ambassadrix.
"She's never placed a permanent embassy before, except with the King in Silver Mountain. Now she's considering placing several. Yours first perhaps. After all, Tekalos is one of the larger kingdoms, and you are one of the most powerful kings."
"And we love your countryside," Idri put in. "I for one would not object at all to being located here. I can imagine how lovely it will be when the buds burst, and wildflowers line the roadsides."
Gurtho's pulse quickened. "Indeed! We already have flowers in bloom around the palace."
"We saw them," Liiset said, "daffodils and tulips, mostly," then returned the talk to business. "The Dynast is also interested in the possibility of alliance. If you think you may be, we should discuss it."
"Indeed! I might well be interested," Gurtho said. "How long will you remain?"
"A week. The Dynast has one misgiving. She likes her allies strong, and clearly, Gurtho and Tekalos are that, but it's a strength impaired by internal discord. Your Kullvordi hillsmen revolt in almost every generation."
Gurtho frowned. What had that to do with anything? "True," he said, "but we never allow it to become a threat. Just this month, at my orders, the reeves whose shires include the hill districts sent soldiers in and burned the farmsteads of some tax cheats, making examples of their families. Now the hillsmen most inclined to rebellion will rise up, showing us who they are so we can destroy them."
"Ah. And are these Kullvordi good fighters?"
He shrugged. "Not good enough. We always win. Easily."
"What would they be like if you could recruit them for your own army, and train them properly?"
"They'd never join my army. I doubt that as many as a dozen have in my own and my father's time combined. And those who did were lazy and insubordinate."
The envoy nodded. "Of course. If they had no loyalty to their own people, they'd hardly be loyal to someone else."
"Exactly!" said Gurtho, misunderstanding.
It was Idri who spoke next. "You're a strong ruler. We appreciate strong men."
"Yes. Well, one must be, in my position." He turned to the butler and snapped his fingers. "More wine, Elwar," he said. "Whatever best follows the pastries."
Bowing, the butler left the room, and Gurtho returned his attention to the Sisters. "How do two such lovely women pass the time when they aren't doing the duties of envoys?"
"Our duties occupy more of our time than you might think," Liiset answered. "For example, before coming here, we read a great deal about your kingdom."
"Indeed? I wasn't aware that a great deal had been written about it. I trust it was complimentary. Was I mentioned?"
"Complimentary enough that we've looked forward to being here. And yes, you were mentioned in the more recent writings."
"Who writes these things?"
"Travelers. Visitors. Merchants."
"Hmh." Gurtho wasn't sure he was pleased.
"We also play," Idri added.
"Play? At what?"
"Among other things," Liiset said, "Idri plays the lap harp." She turned to Idri. "Would you like to play for the king, my dear?"
Idri looked demurely at Gurtho, then at her hands in her lap, and smiled. "It would gladden me to give pleasure to such a king as Gurtho."
"Well then," Liiset said, and for a long moment seemed to ponder in silence. Gurtho waited. "Have you ever heard our music of spring?" she said at last. "We favor it in this season. Much of it was written for ensembles, but even more for solo instruments. Including the lap harp."
"I'll send for an instrument," Gurtho said.
"She has her own; I've called for it already."
"You have?"
"Through the mind. Many of us can speak through the mind to those we're most closely related to. One of my aides should be here momentarily." Briefly they sat talking; then an outer guard entered.
"Your Majesty! A young woman wishes to give something to her lady," the man said awkwardly. The "young woman" looked so much like the envoy, Gurtho felt sure they were twins. She delivered to Idri a lap harp hardly twenty inches high.
Idri tuned the instrument while the others watched, then began to play, with skill if not inspiration, the music alternating between bright, dark, and serene. Soon, though, Gurtho became restless, and seeing this, Liiset yawned delicately. "Excuse me," she said, "but I haven't entirely recovered from our long ride. I'm afraid I must retire."
"Already, dear Sister?" Idri asked. "His Majesty seems bright-eyed, and as far as I'm concerned, I can play the night away."
Gurtho's pulse quickened. "Indeed," he said, "don't take her away so soon. Let her play some more. I can understand your being tired, and certainly won't be offended if you leave us. But as for me-her playing enchants me more than you might imagine."
"Well…" Liiset looked questioningly at Idri, then seemed to have her answer. "If you wish. Idri and I planned to sleep late tomorrow anyway. Very well, my dear."
Somewhat to the king's surprise, the envoy stood and bowed, rather as a man would, showing cleavage that made the breath stick in his throat. "I wish Your Majesty a most pleasant night," she said, and left.
Alone with the enchanting Idri! He could hardly believe his good fortune. Meanwhile she began to play something sensuous, exotic.
"Are there words to it?" Gurtho asked.
She smiled. "It's a love song, supposedly by an ylvin emperor to his favorite concubine." She began to sing, the lyrics subdued but passionate, suggestive, exciting Gurtho.
"I wish you might play for me alone," he said earnestly when she'd finished.
"But I am."
"I mean, without these." He gestured at his guards.
"Well then, tell them to leave."
He stood, giving his order to their sergeant. In a minute they were gone. "Now that we're alone," Gurtho said, "this room seems too large. There is another, more intimate…" He gestured toward a door near a back corner.
She stood demurely, the small harp under one arm. Gurtho took her other arm, leading her gently, his heart thuttering. The smaller room had a luxurious couch, mirrors with expensive, nearly true surfaces, large pillows distributed here and there, and several upholstered settees. He hoped it wouldn't alarm her; it was the setting for occasional small orgies staged for special friends. Leading her to a settee, he seated her near the middle and sat down beside her, his left knee touching her right.