anger?" he said. "They sendtheir surrender by one who is obviously the loveliest jewel of theirmisguided world."
A few of the courtiers snickered dutifully. Vyrtl was annoyed; he hadnot meant to be funny. He glanced swiftly at the half-dozen wivespresent, but their expressions showed no jealousy. He decided that theempty-headed creatures had at least learned not to embarrass himpublicly.
"Your Illustrious Sublimity is too gracious," replied the envoy. "Iregret that my message is not unqualified surrender."
Vyrtl frowned. "You dare ask terms?"
"I must carry out the commands laid upon me by the Council."
She smiled into his eyes and made a rueful little gesture with bothhands, which she allowed to fall gracefully to her sides. Vyrtl's gazewas led up and down her figure again.
He forced himself to meet her glance. Rather than expressing anyresentment of his appraisal, it suggested that her resistance to hisdemands would be merely formal.
_They've sent me a clever one_, he thought, _but they will find Icannot be bought off so cheaply. Still, it can do no harm to show thatVyrtl can be the diplomat as well as a soldier._
"We are unprepared for any discussion," he said aloud. "Since we arenot disposed, however, to be hasty in our judgement, you may wait uponus in the council chamber in two hours."
The envoy stepped lithely aside when he rose. With some difficulty,Vyrtl kept his eyes front as he strode from the hall with Wilkins andhis personal guards at his heels. He hastened to his own chambers fora bath and change of clothes.
He allowed himself to be bathed, scented, and dressed in the mostimperial costume he had brought from Hebryxid. Blonde Xota, hisofficial favorite who had taken no chance of losing her place byabsence from his side, admired his dazzling jewels and scarlet silksextravagantly. Vyrtl permitted her to serve him a light lunch, payinglittle attention to her chatter.
Once, when he had taken her from the Co-ordinator of his sixth planet,he had fancied himself in love with her; now he merely amused himselfguessing from day to day to whom she sold her supposed influence. Hesometimes wondered if any wife he owned were innocent of spying.
He rose, summoned Wilkins, and led a small procession to the councilchamber. They found the necessary quota of high officers waiting.Daphne Foster was summoned.
Vyrtl took his place on a dais at the head of the table, and his aidearranged the gold-stiffened ceremonial robe. The generals made littleprofessional jokes, each striving to act as if the victory had beenmostly his own doing. Even the lean Chief of Staff, Tzyfol, lookedsatiated.
The Jursan envoy was announced.
* * * * *
Once again, Vyrtl was so fascinated by the girl that he paid scantheed to the ceremonious greetings. He decided she was younger than hehad thought earlier.
Finally, the conference got down to business.
"My people," said Daphne Foster, "ask but a few minor concessions,which we believe will benefit the remainder of the Empire as much asJursa."
"We are disposed to believe your good intentions," said Vyrtlencouragingly.
He caught himself smiling, and immediately resumed the mask ofdignity.
The Jursans, it developed, would give up demands for autonomy andresume allegiance to the Empire. They pleaded, however, for freedom ofscientific research, promising that their discoveries would be placedpromptly at Vyrtl's disposal.
In the matter of indemnities, they were willing, Daphne Foster saidwith an intimate glance for Vyrtl alone, to rely upon his generosity.They asked only that they be allowed a reasonable time to restore thedamage suffered in the fighting and that they be permitted to makepart of the payments in the technical equipment they were so skilledat manufacturing.
Some of the officers raised objections that Vyrtl thought well-put,but he overruled them. The main point, he pronounced, was to restore avaluable possession to productivity. There would be no looting anddestruction.
He felt less sure of himself when old Tzyfol protested that freeresearch was one of the roots of the trouble. Consequently, perhaps,the imperial glare that silenced the Marshal was the more withering.
After that, Vyrtl sat back and allowed his cohorts to promulgate anumber of minor, harassing conditions. These would satisfy their egosto some degree, keep the Jursans aware of the folly of questioning hisauthority again, and show their envoy how things might have gone hadVyrtl not been merciful.
In the end, he added one condition of his own.
"It will be necessary," he said, "to hold frequent conferences onthese affairs. If the Jursan Council should appoint their envoy aspermanent ambassador to our court, we should be inclined to approve."
It was tantamount to a command, but the girl showed no resentment. Notthat Vyrtl expected anything so rash as outward reluctance--but alifetime of piercing the flattery of courtiers had made him a shrewdreader of facial expressions.
He granted permission for an immediate broadcasting of the treaty,overriding Tzyfol's desire for deeper consideration in favor of DaphneFoster's plea that delay would cost lives.
After having copies of the rather simple document drawn up for thefacsimile broadcasters, Vyrtl gave her leave to depart. Withoutseeming to watch, he admired her gait as she walked from theconference chamber.
* * * * *
Afterwards, he left the generals to their post-mortem and retired withWilkins to a private balcony for a bottle of wine.
"How did it go?" he asked, leaning back more comfortably when his aidehad removed the heavy robe.
"You were most generous, Sire, or so I thought."
"It is a virtue that requires a public display now and then, tostrengthen the roots of the myth that grows from it. Too bad oldTzyfol failed to see that. Why do you suppose he tried to beobstinate?"
"I expect, Sire, he disliked having an old woman seem to get thebetter of him after he had won the military victory."
Vyrtl laughed indulgently and sipped his wine.
"Even Tzyfol," added Wilkins, "might have been generous had she beenyoung and pretty. Unfortunately, I suppose, it takes an old head to bean envoy."
The Emperor set his glass down very carefully.
"What did you say?" he demanded evenly.
Wilkins stared, with the expression of a man who fears he may suddenlyrecall having used an obscene word in polite company, or havingbragged falsely and unwittingly of tax-evasion to an imperialcollector.
Vyrtl repeated his question in a tone a note higher.
"I-I-I said that if she were young and p-pretty--"
"How old do you think she was?" rasped Vyrtl.
"About s-s-seventy. Maybe seventy-five."
"_What?_"
He surged to his feet, overturning the table. Immediately the glassdoors opening on the balcony were flung back with a splintering crash.
Four gleaming guardsmen charged out with drawn weapons, each obviouslyaching to become a hero. Wilkins prudently stood rooted, peering atthem from the corner of his eye.
Vyrtl recovered his poise with an effort.
"As you were!" he ordered. "Help General Wilkins pick up the table Iknocked over. Clumsy thing!"
It was done, and the guard captain apologized for the doors.
"Relax, Wilkins," said Vyrtl when they were again alone. "It justoccurred to me that I ought to have another word with that woman. Havesomeone get hold of her at once!"
He left the disordered balcony and waited in a nearby library. Thebooks lining the walls were real, he noticed idly--another painstakingpoint by the designer of the palace.
There Wilkins found him presently, to report that the Jursan envoy wasalready on her way back to that planet.
"I called the landing field guard," he explained, "but she had alreadytaken off. His spotters swept space for them and got a curve on theship."
"Of course," mused Vyrtl. "The treaty has been broadcast."
"Shall I have the patrols close in on her rocket?"
"No." T
he Emperor pondered a moment. "Have a telescreen set up in hereso we can speak directly."
A frenzied bustle ensued as Wilkins directed a platoon of awed techsthrough the process of bringing the mountain to Mohammed. In the end,the Jursan ship was in communication. The aide called for DaphneFoster, then stood aside.
Vyrtl was glad, when she appeared, that Wilkins had placed a deeparmchair before the screen for him.
Was _this_ the woman with whom he had--?
* * * * *
She was still tall, but her white hair gave her the look of theseventy years with which Wilkins had credited her. Deep laugh-wrinklesbracketed the mouth, with more at the corners of the still brighteyes. The delicate bones of her face were more prominent.
There was nevertheless a clear resemblance to the Daphne Foster he hadreceived earlier.
_She looks ... she looked_, thought Vyrtl,