Nefus turned to the High Councilor. «I think we can do these things for the Pendarnoth, can we not, Councilor?»

Klerus nodded his massive head. «We can, Your Majesty.»

«Then let these things be done,» said the king, his voice ringing out with a sudden unexpected strength in the stillness. Then the trumpeters snapped their trumpets up to their lips and shattered the silence with more harsh blasts. Threstar and the other officers began bawling, «Return to your homes and rejoice, Oh people! The Pendarnoth and the king give you leave to go.»

Blade saw stirrings and boilings in the crowd as people began to turn and try to make their way toward the edges of the square. But he did not have time to see much more than that. Threstar again took the Golden Steed by the bridle, and strode forward through the palace gates. Blade risked a look behind him, and saw Guroth urging his horse forward, leading his patrol and Curana after Blade.

He was off to a good start, at least. But a good start would only be a small part of the battle he would be fighting here. What would be the next part? He rather hoped it would be a talk with Klerus. He did not particularly want to make any moves until he had had a chance to size up the High Councilor.

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.