Free SIGN OF CHAOS by Roger Zelazny

be they’re afraid they’ll lose business with such a close neighbor suddenly enjoying the same preferred trade status they have.   Or it may be they had different plans for Kashfa’s throne and we just foreclosed them.   Maybe.both.   Whatever...   We can’t tell them anything we don’t know.”
    “I just wanted to know what subjects to avoid,” I said.   “All of the above,” she answered.
    “I was wondering the same thing myself,” Llewella said.   “I was also wondering, though, whether they might have any useful information on Dalt.   Their intelligence service must keep a close eye on doings in and abou Kashfa.”
    “Don’t pursue that topic,” Vialle said, moving toward the door.   “If they let something slip or want to give something away, fine.   Bring it home.   But don’t show them you’d like.   to know.”
    Vialle took my arm and I guided her out, heading toward the Yellow Room.   Llewella produced a small mirror from somewhere and inspected her features.   Obviously pleased, she put it away, then remarked, “Lucky you showed up, Merlin.   An extra smiling face is always useful at times like this.”
    “Why don’t I feel lucky?” I said.
    We made our way to the room where the prime minister and his daughters waited.   Their servants had already retired to the kitchen for refreshments.   The official party was still hungry, which says something about protocol, especially since it seemed to take a long while before some trays of provender could be attractively assembled.   Orkuz was of medium stature and stocky, his black hair tastefully streaked, the lines on his broad face seeming to indicate that he did a lot more frowning than smiling-a practice in which he indulged most of the while that afternoon.   Nayda’s was a more pleasingly sculpted version of his face, and though she showed the same tendency toward corpulence, it was held firmly in check at an attractive level of roundedness.   Also, she smiled a lot and she had pretty teeth.   Coral, on the other hand, was taller than either her father or sister, slender, her hair a reddish brown.   When she smiled it seemed less official.   Also, there was something vaguely familiar about her.   I wondered whether I had met her at some boring reception years before.   If I had, though, I felt I might have remembered.
    After we had been introduced and wine had been poured, Orkuz made a brief comment to Vialle about “recent distressing news” concerning Kashfa.   Llewella and I quickly moved to her side for moral support, but she simply said that such matters would have to be dealt with fully upon Random’s return, and that for the moment she wished merely to see to their comfort.   He was completely agreeable to this, even to the point of smiling.   I had the impression he just wanted the purpose of his visit on the record immediately.   Llewella quickly fumed the conversation to the matter of his journey, and he graciously allowed the subject to be changed.   Politicians are wonderfully programmed.
    I learned later that the Begman ambassador wasn’t even aware of his arrival, which would seem to indicate that Orkuz had come so quickly he had preceded any notification to their embassy.   And he hadn’t even bothered dropping in there, but had come straight to the palace and had a message sent over.   I learned this a little later, when he asked to have the message delivered.   Feeling somewhat supernumerary to Llewella’s and Vialle’s graceful cascades of neutral talk, I dropped back a pace to plan my escape.   I was not at all interested in whatever game was being set up.
    Coral backed off also and sighed.   Then she glanced at me and smiled, surveyed the room quickly and came closer.
    “I’ve always wanted to visit Amber,” she said then.
    “Is it the way you imagined it?” I asked.
    “Oh, yes.   So far.   Of course, I haven’t seen that much of it yet...”
    I nodded, and we withdrew a