Sword of Tomorrow by Henry Kuttner

Author:Henry Kuttner [Kuttner, Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2018-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VI Globe of Colors

Ethan Court had no reason to change his mind as, with Barlen and Hardony, he hurried through the night, via air-car, toward the palace on the mountain. Beneath him Valyra hummed with music. But under its beat he could detect an ominous and growing tension, a discordance that might swell into a shattering, cataclymsic fury. Here was a land strained to the breaking-point, threatened by invasion, wanting only weapons.

The Throne—Irelle—was waiting in one of the great reception halls, an enormous room crowded with the gaily-clad nobles of Lyra. A strained anxiety pervaded in the palace, too. Irelle was talking to an enormously fat man whose gross body was incongruously clad in fluttering silks, red, purple, and green. He looked like a mediaeval jester, Court thought.

“We need supplies,” the fat man was saying unhappily, his pouting lips scarlet against the sagging whiteness of his cheeks. “No supplies. I must have them. The least one can expect is to live with a minimum of comfort.”

“That is out of my province,” Irelle said patiently. “Technical supplies are needed elsewhere, Farr. You know that.”

Farr tugged at a green tassel on his bulging stomach.

“Surely a few appliances to help keep me in comfort wouldn’t be missed?”

Barlen clapped his hand on the fat man’s back. “Comfort, Farr? You’ve got luxuries in your castle which would keep most men busy, although I don’t envy you them. What brings you away from your dreams?” His voice was mocking.

Farr drew himself up. “My pleasures are my own affair,” he said sharply. “I interfere with no one else. I ask only to be let alone, and to have a few supplies when I need them.”

“Those supplies are needed elsewhere,” Irelle said. “You’ve forgotten that there are other worlds than your dream-ones. Lyra is, I think, more important.”

“But I require so little!”

Irelle cut him short. “Barlen, Hardony, Court—come with me.” She turned, and led them into a small adjoining chamber.

“Well?”

Hardony spread his hands. “It’s entirely up to Court now. I can do no more. My men are ready, but have no weapons.”

“My men are equally ready,” Barlen said.

Irelle looked at Court. “I heard what happened tonight. It seems to me I’d be justified in resorting to —anything—to save Lyra. Even torture.” Her blue eyes were hard now.

Court was silent.

“Listen to me,” she lashed out at him. “Thus far you have refused me weapons. You come from the past, from a world that destroyed itself by its own vileness, and you presume to sit in judgment on us. On Lyra! Are you God, then?” Her voice had become shrewish. Her face contorted with fury.

“No,” Court said. “No, I’m not God.”

“Then—what?”

“I’ll help you. There’s nothing else I can do. I see that now.” His voice was very low. “The world isn’t ready for peace even yet. I didn’t sleep long enough.”

Barlen’s triumphant oath rattled against the ceiling. “Good, Court! Good! You were a soldier once, and you’re still one. With weapons we’ll have a chance against the Deccans.”

Hardony’s smile twisted into faint wryness.

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