The King of Dreams by Robert Silverberg

Author:Robert Silverberg [Silverberg, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf, mobi
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯), Speculative Fiction
ISBN: 9780575106604
Publisher: Eos
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Standing before the Lord Gaviral in the great hall of Gaviral's palace, Mandralisca idly tossed the Barjazid helmet from one hand to the other, a gesture that had virtually become a tic for him in recent weeks.

"A progress report, my lord Gaviral," he said. "The secret weapon of which I've spoken, this little helmet here? I've gone far in mastering its use."

Gaviral smiled. His smile was not a heartwarming thing: a quick twitch of his meager little lips, baring a ragged facade of largely triangular teeth, and a chilly glow flashing for an instant in his small deep-set eyes. He ran his hand through his coarse and thinning covering of dull-red hair and said, "Are there any specific results to report?"

"I've penetrated the Castle with it, milord."

"Ah."

"And the Labyrinth."

"Ah. Ah!"

That had been a favorite locution of Dantirya Sambail, that double "ah," with a moment's pause between them and a whiplash emphasis on the second one. Gaviral could not have been very old when Dantirya Sambail died, but he had managed to copy the Procurator's intonation perfectly. It was odd and not in any way amusing to hear that double "ah" coming from Gaviral's lips, as though by some act of ventriloquy beyond the grave. The Lord Gaviral had more than a touch of his famed uncle's ugliness, but scarcely any at all of his dark wit and black devious shrewdness, and it did not sit well with Mandralisca to be treated to so accurate an imitation of the Procurator's manner. Those were feelings that he kept to himself, though, as he did so many others.

"I am ready now," Mandralisca said, "to propose an alteration of our strategy."

"And that would be — ?"

"To move ourselves somewhat more aggressively into a position of visibility, milord. I suggest that we quit this place out here in the desert and transfer our center of operations to1 the city of Ni-moya."

"You perplex me, Count. This is a step you have warned us against since the beginning of our campaign. It would, you said, send an immediate signal to the Pontifical officials that swarm everywhere in Ni-moya that a revolt had broken out in Zimroel against the authority of the central government. Only last month you warned us against tipping our hand prematurely. Why, now, do you contradict your own advice?"

"Because I have less fear of the central government now than I did last year, or even last month."

"Ah. Ah!"

"I still believe we should proceed with immense caution toward our goal. You will not hear me counselling any declarations of war against the government of Prestimion and Dekkeret: not yet, at any rate. But I see now that we can afford to take greater risks, because the weapons at our disposal"—and he hefted the helmet—"are more substantial than I had earlier imagined. If Prestimion and Company attempt to harm us, we can fight back."

"Ah!"

Mandralisca waited for the second one, glaring fiercely at Gaviral in expectation. But it failed to come.

After a moment he said, "We will go to Ni-moya then.

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