Free The Unwilling Warlord by Lawrence Watt-Evans Page B

back more brightly than ever, and she turned and ran from the room.
    Sterren stared after her, astonished.
    Lura burst into giggles. Nissitha stared down at her youngest sister in clear disgust. The queen’s expression shifted to polite dismay.
    “Did I say something wrong?” Sterren asked, hoping he hadn’t just condemned himself to a dungeon or worse.
    “Oh, no,” Queen Ashassa reassured him. “Or at least, not really. It’s Lura’s doing. And of course, Shirrin’s being foolish, too. She’s thirteen, you know, a very sensitive age, and Lura’s doing her best to embarrass her. Don’t let it worry you.” She turned to Lura and said sternly, “Lura, you go apologize to your sister!”
    Lura’s giggling suddenly stopped. “For what?” she de­manded, “I didn’t do anything!”
    “Do as I say!” the queen thundered, pointing.
    Lura knew better than to argue any further; she marched off after Shirrin.
    “I’m sorry, my lord,” the queen said when Lura had closed the door behind her. “Those girls love to tease each other. You see, Shirrin’s all full of romantic stories about Ethshar and warlords and lost heirs ever since our theurgist, Agor, first told us about you, and Lura’s been making fun of her for it.”
    “Silly things,” Nissitha remarked, “getting worked up over nothing!”
    Sterren was at a loss for a reply. “Ah,” he said.
    “Well, then, my lord,” Queen Ashassa said, “as long as you’re here, Lura was quite right, we’ve all been eager to meet you and talk with you. You must understand, none of us have ever been more than a few leagues from this castle; my ancestral home in Thanoria is only six leagues or so, and that’s the furthest any of us have traveled. Ethshar seems unspeakably exotic. Do sit down, and tell us something about it!”
    Sterren glanced at his guards, but Dogal and Alder were being steadfastly silent. Seeing no polite way to refuse, he reluctantly and delicately seated himself on one of the velvet couches, while Queen Ashassa and Princess Nissitha settled onto others, and asked, “What can I tell you?”
    Princess Nissitha’s expression plainly said that he couldn’t tell her anything at all, but Queen Ashassa asked, her tone sincerely interested, “Is it true that the city of Ethshar is so large that you can’t see from one end to the other?”
    “Well,” Sterren said, considering the question, “it would depend where you were standing. I suppose from atop the . . . the lord’s castle you could see the city walls on both sides. But mostly, it’s true.”
    The overlord’s palace was not really a castle, but his limited Semman vocabulary did not include a more suitable term.
    The queen asked more questions, and Sterren did his best to answer; gradually, as the topics ranged from the city’s size to the recently-begun overlordship of Azrad VII to wizards and other magicians, Sterren found himself relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Queen Ashassa, despite her royal title, was a pleasant enough person.
    Princess Nissitha never said a word, and eventually rose and glided haughtily away.
    After a time, a servant entered quietly and announced that dinner was ready. Queen Ashassa rose, and for a moment Sterren thought she was going to offer her arm, to be escorted in to the meal, as he had seen ladies do in Ethshar.
    Either Semman etiquette was different, or the difference in their stations as queen and warlord was too great; Ashassa marched off on her own, leaving Sterren to follow in her wake.
    The dining hall, Sterren discovered, was the throne room where the king had first received him. Trestle tables had been set up and covered with white linen, and chairs brought from somewhere to line either side. A smaller table stood upon the dias, crossing the T, with a dozen chairs behind it.
    As yet, almost all the chairs were still unoccupied.
    Queen Ashassa took a seat at the high table, near the center; Sterren, recognizing that the high table was a