Free Beasts of Antares by Alan Burt Akers Page A

Delia.
    “Ha!”
    “—and to the work entrusted to her.”
    “Do you know what that work is?”
    “No.”
    “And how many eligible young bachelors has she turned down this season? I believe I could form a regiment from them!”
    Delia laughed. “I believe you could! Lela has her heart set on no man yet. There is time.”
    And, thinking of young men who were in love with my daughters, I felt the wrenching pang strike me that Barty Vessler was dead, struck down by a vicious cowardly blow from Kov Colun Mogper. Well, my lad Jaidur was after that rast, and after his accomplice, Zankov, too... What a tangle it all was! And yet, as always and now with more force than ever, I believed there was a pattern, a grand design, woven by the Savanti who had brought me to Kregen in the first place, or by the Star Lords who brought me here to work for them or hurled me back to Earth on a whim or for the defiance I showed them out of stupid stubbornness.
    “It is an unholy thing in a man’s life,” I said, turning and resuming our promenade along the terrace, “when he does not recognize his children and they do not recognize him.”
    “But you know them all now, my heart, all, save—”
    “Lela.”
    “She will come home soon, I feel sure. But—”
    I saw Naghan Vanki walk out of the overheated room where the dancing and the perfumes and the feathers coiled among the laughter and the music. He looked swiftly along the terrace, turned, saw us, and started at once to walk down. He wore an elegant Vallian evening dress, of dark green and in impeccable taste. Black and silver leaves formed an entwined border. His rapier and dagger swung. His mazilla was the formal black velvet, smooth and fashionable.
    “Majister!”
    “But what, Delia? Vanki!”
    “I have not heard from her in too long...”
    “Get Khe-Hi or Deb-Lu to suss her out in lupu! By Zair! If she is in danger—”
    “No, no! I have arranged all that. If she were dead I would know.”
    “Majister! News has come in.” Naghan Vanki halted before us. His pallid face was as tight as a knuckled fist. “My people report they are on the track of Voinderam and Fransha.”
    “Who?” I said.
    Delia looked at me.
    Vanki’s face expressed nothing.
    Then I said, “I see. This is good news. Tell me where they are and I’ll be off at once.”
    Although Naghan Vanki was the empire’s chief spymaster, there were few people in the land aware of that fact. Among the gathered nobility and gentility and bankers here at Bankers Guild, there were, I suppose, not above half a dozen who knew.
    So the people, attracted by the intrusion, could leave off dancing and a little crowd gather at a discreet distance along the terrace. Much protocol was relaxed on the Day of Opaz the Deliverer once the formal celebrations were over.
    “But, majister—” said Vanki.
    “You—” Delia shook her head.
    Some of my people walked across. Many of them you know, many have not been mentioned so far. But they were friends, a goodly number ennobled by me. They were concerned for my welfare. I said, “I will go after the runaway lovers and see what they say for themselves. After all, no one condemns them for their actions.”
    Trylon Marovius puffed his cheeks dubiously.
    “You are the emperor, majister. It is not meet you should go haring about. Send men — I will go for you willingly.”
    “Yes,” quoth others, and a whole crowd joined in. “I will go. And I! Me, too!”
    They were all well-meaning, anxious, concerned lest their emperor should go chasing off into dangers on the trail of two runaways. I suppose my old beakhead of a face began to draw down into the ferocious expression that, so I am told — tartly — can stop a charging dinosaur in its tracks.
    Delia’s warning voice reached me. “Dray...”
    “Sink me!” I burst out. “Am I not the emperor! Cannot I go and risk a danger or two?”
    They didn’t like that. Lord Pernalsh shook his head. He was taller than I, broader, a