Free King of Swords (The Starfolk) by Dave Duncan Page B

historical livery.
    “May I be so bold as to inquire what sort of room the halfling would prefer?”
    Rigel, intoxicated by dinner at Versailles, went for broke. “A beach cabin with good swimming.”
    “Salt water or fresh?”
    “Salt.”
    “Azmidiske Cove,” Senator told the youngster, who in turn bowed and asked if the halfling would be so kind as to follow him.
    He led Rigel to another set of imposing double doors. The moment they were opened, Rigel smelled the sea and heard a distant boom of surf. He walked through and then turned to his guide.
    “These doors are incredible. Will they take you anywhere?”
    The lad seemed surprised at his ignorance. “The portals? To any other portal within the master’s domain.”
    “How do you work them?”
    Surprise became worry. The boy developed a stutter. “You j-j-just think of wh-where you want to b-b-be.”
    “Remember it, you mean?”
    He nodded vigorously. “Will these quarters s-satisfy, h-halfling?”
    The room was no bigger than a tennis court, but not much smaller either, and furnished with exquisite taste in a writhing, curlicue style that Rigel had never seen in any book or magazine. A deck outside faced a white sand beach under a quarter moon. Dark palm tree fronds gestured gracefully against a starry sky. Wow! Life on Earth had never been this good.
    He said it would suffice.
    Reassured, the footman said, “If the halfling has any special preference for breakfast, I can have the kitchen prepare it.”
    “Thanks,” Rigel said. “I’ll decide in the morning.” The royal treatment was making him so lightheaded that he was tempted to say, “Rigel will decide.” He didn’t. “What’s your name?”
    The footman cringed. “My name?”
    “You do have a name?”
    “It is Sextus, if it p-p-pleases the halfling.” His face crumpled. “I have displeased my lord? I mean, the halfling? He wishes to lodge a complaint?”
    “Not at all. You have been most helpful. Where were you born?”
    “Here, halfling. Not here at Azmidiske Cove, I mean, but within the master’s domain.”
    “And your parents also?”
    Sextus seemed thoroughly confused by this personal interest. “My mother was, halfling. The master borrowed my father from another domain.”
    Rigel felt his scalp crawl. Earthlings were only tools, Alniyat had told him. “Is Starborn Muphrid a good master to work for?”
    Sextus brightened. “Oh, yes. Very fair. We get two whole days off a month, and this is my nine hundred and seventy-first day without punishment!”
    Puke!
“That’s good. You must be proud of such a record.”
    “The halfling is most kind to say so.” He beamed. “That is why I was so worried when I was afraid I had failed to give satisfaction. When I achieve two thousand days, I shall be permitted to co-habit!”
    Rigel wanted to ask if young Sextus would have any say in choosing his roommate, but the conversation was making his gorge rise. He dismissed the man.
    Then he ran down the sand and hurled himself into the water. It was wonderfully cool and clean.
    Elves were not.

    He swam all the way across the lagoon to the reef where the surf thundered. By the time he had swum back and was trudging up the beach, the quarter moon was setting, in paradoxical ignorance of the full moon he had seen earlier in the Moon Garden. The constellations looked familiar but twisted, as if either the season or the latitude had changed dramatically. That was certainly Orion’s belt and his name star, Rigel, but he had never seen the Hunter standing on his head before. The Starlands must be in the Southern Hemisphere, or on anotherworld entirely, but if this was another world, how could it have the same moon and stars?
    There were lights on in his cabin, and when he reached the door, he heard movement inside. He raised his hand.
    “Saiph!”
    This time he was ready for the weight of the gauntlet and sword. He hurled the door open with his left hand. The woman in the process of removing her