Jane watched Fox make his unsteady way through to his rooms; as soon as the door was closed she doubled over laughing – as well those doors were soundproofed; the last thing poor Delphi needed now was further embarrassment.
Recovering herself quickly, she looked at her uncle, who was himself regarding Fox' door and chuckling quietly. "He isn't used to luxury much, is he?" he enquired mildly; he had always been a master of understatement. "That man is almost too good for his own good, don't you agree?" He fixed her with a sly look and knowing smile.
She felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny – the effect he was after no doubt. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she said, clearly flustered. "Fox does that all the time; smart comments to put my back up."
Her uncle shrugged nonchalantly. "You know you enjoy it," he joked lightly. "You chose to come here and surprise me; it's my turn to get my own back. Besides; if its good enough for your young man, it's surely good enough for me."
"He is not MY young man," she said indignantly, breaking off when he started laughing; she'd reacted just as he wanted. Shaking her head in exasperation, a thought suddenly occurred to her, and she regarded him knowingly. "I didn't really surprise you, did I? Else you wouldn't have already prepared a room for me, only for him."
He nodded. "Very good. Yes, I guessed that you'd probably accompany him, given the friendship you seem to share. In the end, I decided to prepare two rooms and ruin your fun than appear caught unawares." He looked slyly at her again. "Though I had to still consider whether you'd have preferred to share his rooms, not have your own."
"Uncle! You stop that right now!"
He laughed. "Always a pleasure to wind you up, my dear." He sobered up. "Do you mean to accompany him over the ocean?" He made it sound a consideration of no consequence.
Jane moved away to look out the window; the balcony offered a beautiful view of the city, and the mountains in the distance – a distinct reminder of what she'd be leaving behind. Her mind was more on what she'd be letting go otherwise.
"I don't know. I'd like to – all his talk of starting a new life, building a new nation to refresh Gaia. It's all very compelling; I can almost see it as he speaks of it."
Her uncle moved slowly over to join her, nodding slowly in agreement. "He is a very charismatic speaker; more than he knows himself, he will make an excellent leader of the expedition. He may lack actual experience, but his knowledge, and his strength of thought – he generated the effect of experience well enough to me. I expect he takes note of more of the surrounding world than many, and absorbs and remembers experiences of others as if they were his own. Intriguing, to say the least, especially given his age."
Jane nodded mute agreement. "I don't know if he wants me to go with him." May as well get to the point.
"He does," her uncle replied immediately. How did he know that? And with such certainty! "He wants you to go with him, but he won't ask you."
"Why not?" she asked, all too interested.
He regarded her levelly, then turned to gaze upon his city. "Ask someone to leave her family, give up her current life, to join him on an uncertain voyage? It would take a man with a tremendous ego to do such a thing – effectively, he would be asking you to give up everything for him, to share in his adventure. It is not something he will bring himself to do; even if he thinks you want him to – an assumption I don't believe he would make." He shook his head, smiling. "He's one of a very rare, and possibly stupid breed."
"What do you mean?" Now he was just being confusing. His explanation did make sense though, to a point – that would be just like Delphi. Why did men have to be so annoying in their 'consideration'?
"A gentleman," he replied, as if that explained everything. "Perhaps it's because I'm nearly always surrounded by toadies, but a decent person these days seems all too rare – and I can't help but think sometimes that the world no longer has any place for them."
He shook his head again, this time in wonder. "He hadn't even considered being in charge of the expedition – and if I hadn't given it to him, he never would have. He just thought he had had a good idea, and wanted to share it, for it to be considered. If accepted, he would have volunteered to be one of the settlers, nothing more."
"Well, anything more would've been very presumptuous," Jane said, sticking up for her friend.
Her uncle looked at her and chuckled. "You haven't spent much time with courtiers, have you my dear? Any one of the attendants to my court – especially the higher ranking members – would've jumped up and down, pointing out every way in which they were best suited for commanding the expedition – if they'd thought of it, of course. As the young man said, since they didn't think about it, they wouldn't even look at the idea twice." He frowned. "That is one very confusing man."
Jane snorted. "You've noticed."
"Indeed. But we digress somewhat, I believe. The point is, it would be just as presumptuous for him to ask you to accompany him over the ocean, though I expect this thought at least has occurred to him – how could it not! – but he will not ask it of you." He smiled. "If you want to get him back, just ask him directly if he does want you to go with him, and watch him squirm."
"Excuse me?"
He turned to look at her, smiling wickedly. "He'll want to say yes – anything else would be lying – but he won't want to say so for fear that you might you might factor it in to your decision making. He won't think that you'll go with him just because he wants you to – not for more than an instant at least – but he might still think that by him saying so will put pressure on you. Women have done extreme things before simply because a man wanted them to, and he knows this, even if he doesn't believe it of you necessarily."
She snorted again. "He should know me better than that. I won't do something just for someone else."
"Oh, he knows that, and wants to believe it, but he is a man who doesn't take anything for granted – I imagine he says 'not necessarily' a great deal. If there's even the smallest doubt in an otherwise iron-clad situation, he will consider it anyway, and it will eat at him continuously."
She shivered. That sounded exactly like Delphi, to a word. Nearly any argument in which he was involved – as soon as someone presented conjecture as fact, he was there with a 'not necessarily'; when it was with her, all that was needed was a slight disapproving glance, and she could hear him saying the words before he'd even considered saying them. "Why couldn't everything just be simple, without all these convoluted considerations?"
"What's the fun in that?" her uncle said impishly, grinning like an idiot. "Besides, then you'd just complain that we acted inconsiderately instead. You can't have it both ways I'm afraid, certainly not with a man like Delphi Fox, it seems."
"Do you think I should go with him?" That wiped the smile clean off his face, as she'd expected.
"Logically, it would be a good idea; you have more direct experience from your parents – you've seen their job as governors at a much closer level than Delphi has, even though he does seem to have an innate talent for it – if people paid any attention to him, and I get the impression that they usually do not. That's largely due to his age and nominal friendliness, I expect, but if he's placed in a command where no-one knows just how young he is, and he doesn't know them personally, then he won't have any reason to be friendlier than is necessary, and they will follow his lead."
"Your presence, as a direct relation of mine, and as a royal representative, will lend credence to his being in command, provided you treat him with due respect as the expedition's commander – which could be a problem, given that to you he is just a friend. Privately, he can remain as such, and you can fool around as mates all you like, but publicly you will need to be seen as respecting him as the governor and commander, and following his orders as any other – not that I can see him giving you orders as such; I might have to talk to him about that."
She nodded, considering his words, knowing them for true – whether she liked it or not.
"Basically, although your presence as a link to authority would be valuable, it will take a great deal of effort on both your parts to hold it together, at least until he has established himself firmly and people are used to taking his orders. On a more personal front, if you accompany him, then it may very well place quite a strain on your friendship, as I've said, but not nearly as much strain as it would if you do not – sending messages across such a distance will be problematic and occasional, at best, until trade is well established, and personal visits well nigh impossible."
She hadn't considered that – did she really want to face the possibility of never seeing Delphi again, hardly able to even keep in contact? It was a sobering thought.
"Also.., well, really it comes down to what you want, Jane – thinking about it this way is cold, and throws up too much to consider all at once. It's a big decision, yes, but not one you should be making for purely logical reasons of advantages and disadvantages. I suggest you give it some thought, not about the ups and downs of going or not, but just about whether you want to go. That's what really matters in the end."
"Is that how you decide things?" she asked her uncle, ruler of an entire nation, full knowing the answer.
He sighed, knowing she'd won on that score. "No, I don't have that luxury. But that doesn't mean that neither do you – your decision only effects yourself."
"And Delphi," she said softly. "What else were you going to add earlier?"
He looked decidedly unhappy. She'd caught his slip, after all, despite his appeal to her humanity. "Also, if you don't go, then whatever you may feel about you no longer seeing him, he's going to feel just as acutely. Given his responsibility of building the city, shaping the new society, such a distraction might mean he won't be thinking as straight as he might, and he'd be feeling the lack of your advice quite keenly. It may very well drive him harder, and he may keep himself so occupied in his work that he prevents it from getting him down."
She nodded, considering again. That did sound like something that Delphi might well do – but no, she'd caught him unawares at times, when he didn't have his mask on, and he wasn't quite as iron-clad as he made people believe. Most people; she didn't doubt for a second that the thought hadn't occurred to her uncle.
"Or it might break him," she said flatly. "He might find that his work isn't enough to keep him occupied, and he may just give up; hand it over to someone else, someone less capable, and return disgraced. Except he wouldn't do that, because then he'd feel that he had failed somehow, so he'd keep driving himself onward, but in a steadily downward spiral. I don't expect it would be long until someone forcibly replaced him, in which case.., well, I don't know what he'd do."
This time it was her uncle's turn to nod in mute agreement, a look of deepest regret etched into his face, in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jane."
She appreciated the sympathy – and the silent admission that there was no way he could help her, and that he wasn't very happy about that fact. It truly is amazing how so much can be said without actually saying really anything at all. "I think I need to lie down," was all she said, giving her uncle a hug before retreating to her room. Lying down on the bed, she first summoned a servant, asking to be woken in time to be ready for dinner. Then she slept, mind blissfully void.
A knock. Just a knock, but Fox jerked awake all the same. "Come," he answered, noting by the clock that it was time for his appointed wake-up. Sure enough, the same man who had appeared earlier pushed open the door and stuck his head in.
"Sir wanted to be woken?" He said almost as if in explanation; doubtless he had experienced people not remembering their own previous instructions.
Fox answered with a nod and a smile. "Yes, thank you. Um, might I ask where my bathroom is?"
Smiling, the servant indicated a door to the left of the bed. "Just through that door, sir; you should find all that you require."
Smiling sheepishly, Fox nodded. He had obviously been far too out of sorts earlier to not have noticed the door. "Thank you; that'll be all for now."
As the servant bowed and left the room, Delphi silently groaned and fell back onto the bed. Twisting, he threw himself off the side of the bed and onto his feet. Steadying himself on the door handle, he opened it and glanced at the 'bathroom', replete with everything a professional massage-house would be proud to stock, save perhaps the masseur, though he would only be half-surprised to find one in a cupboard somewhere.
A bath big enough for at least two, a stand-alone shower cubicle – not integrated, thankfully – and what could only be described as an overstocked – if appropriately named – vanity unit. And mirrors. Large mirrors. Delphi sighed; he would never understand just who wanted to see themselves fully naked. Well, if they had a body like Jane, perhaps – he just managed to stop that thought from forming.
Moving to the sink, he took one of the many – perfumed, urgh – cloths and proceeded to wash his face. Undressing, he threw his clothes off to a clear patch of floor, made for the shower, then stopped, considering the bath; he could do with a good soak for a change. He set the bath to filling, wrapped himself in a towel and moved back into the bedroom to find some fresh clothes.
Opening the wardrobe, he evaluated the threads he had brought from Delphi, then shifted his gaze to some finer garments down the other end. Opening the door fully, he regarded fine suits in muted colours – how he preferred them – and cut in a military styling, like those of the Kahn. Shrugging, he checked the sizes, and was surprised they would fit. Comparing them, he found they were all perfectly his size – except for a more casual outfit, which was a size large – just how he preferred it.
A not so small suspicion formed in his mind. Well, she was his niece, and she did know his sizing, and how he wore them. Might as well make the most of it, he thought, grabbing a suit in a dark blue hue and a burnt-orange silken shirt and threw them onto the bed. Returning to the bath, he folded the towel over the rung to the side of the tub and eased himself in, revelling in the warm water soothing his tense muscles; not relaxing them exactly – nothing ever managed that – but they became less taut than usual, at least.
Soaking for a few minutes, he rose and let it drain – any longer and he wouldn't want to leave, and look like a dried prune besides. Moving to shower, he proceeded to rinse all the miles off travel out of himself – feeling almost renewed he towelled himself and moved to the bedroom to dress. Finding his shoes, both the worn pair he had worn and the formal pair he had brought for a slightly more respectable look, he saw that the better pair had been polished to gleam – and was pleased to notice they hadn't bothered with the older. He liked them worn – and besides, they would never shine.
Feeling ready, if uncomfortable as usual in formal attire, he left his rooms and sat on – or rather, in – one of the very accommodating couches, the cushions seeming to just give way as he reclined, waiting for Jane to make her appearance. Presuming she hadn't had the same idea and been eaten by a chair already. Laughing at the sudden image, he was interrupted by Jane exiting her room and taking his breath away.
A tight-fitting dress in a lighter, almost aquamarine blue – that was very her colour, he thought – clung to her, the bodice tastefully not quite revealing a couple of her more salient points. She had never been much of one for jewellery, but he noted the ring that he'd given her years before, and the necklace likewise, it's imitation ruby – he hadn't the coin for genuine, more was the pity – contrasting elegantly with her dress and azure gaze. Without realising, he bowed deeply. "Good evening, my lady," he managed. Suddenly the suit he was wearing felt decidedly shabby.
"What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously, ready to go on the defensive.
He smiled easily, hopefully not too adoringly. "Just a thought I had," he explained, gesturing at the couches. "These things are so soft I was wondering if you'd already appeared to wait for me and been swallowed by a hungry chair." He looked at her appraisingly. "You do look good enough to eat, that's for certain."
How he managed to say such things without flushing red himself, he had no idea; she was scarlet as he stood there grinning mischievously. "What do you think of the suit?" he enquired, smoothly changing the subject, doing an agile twirl; showing off and closing ground both. "Just something I found in my wardrobe – would you believe they were all my size?" He stopped, as if with a sudden revelation. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?"
"Well, considering what you usually wear; I wasn't going to let myself be embarrassed by accompanying you," she said scathingly – for all the effect it had.
He bowed again. "And yet you still suffer from embarrassment in my company; I really must apologise. And thank you for the forethought of making me presentable." The last at least was said sincerely, gazing captivated into her eyes. Before either could comment, there was a knock at the door, and he swept away to answer it. Outside stood the same man that served him in his room.
"I was instructed to escort you to dinner, sir; madam," he explained, acknowledging Jane with a nod.
"Delphi Fox," Delphi presented himself, putting forward his hand. "And the ravishing young lady is her Grace Jane Pilat, heir to the governor of Delphi. May I enquire as to your name?"
Shaking Delphi's hand and offering another nod to Jane, he introduced himself. "Karl Psilum; pleased to meet you, sir; madam. I am the head attendant for this level of the palace, and to the Kahn when he allows it. And often when he does not," he added with a smile.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Karl," Delphi said pleasantly, and meaning every word. "Your dedication to service does you proud. Perhaps you could show me around tomorrow; this is my first, and possibly last stay in the palace, but I'd like to make the most of it." Jane walked past him silently as he held open the door; he followed her through and closed it as Karl nodded.
"I would be more than happy to, sir; so long as I am available. Perhaps if you would mention it to the Kahn, he may see fit to free my schedule."
"Well, I wouldn't want to rudely precede any other with my own plans, but so long as another can perform such duties as adequately, I will see my way to mentioning it to the Kahn."
"It would not be considered rude," Karl reassured. "My chief responsibility is as your personal attendant; my other duties are administrative, and my second can perform them well enough."
"Very well; I shall mention it to Chimaera, and we may speak of this more anon. For now, if you would guide us to the dining hall; I suppose we should not keep the Kahn waiting."
Karl inclined his head. "Indeed, sir; if you would follow me." He turned and led them down the hall.
"My lady?" Fox said, offering Jane his arm; she took it with a half-wondering half-suspicious look.
"What are you up to?" she asked almost accusingly.
"Being polite," he replied. "And behaving myself."
"Makes a change," she muttered; he smiled down at her impishly.
"First time for everything, my lady."
The clack of his boots and her heels sounded loudly on the decorative hard-wood floor. Two flight of stairs and a few long corridors later and they arrived at a grand entranceway; Fox saw the beginnings of a sweeping staircase just beyond. Karl gave their names to the door attendant – one of the reasons Fox had introduced themselves, the other being in the vain hope Karl would call him by name instead of that absurd 'sir'. No matter; he supposed he would get used to it; he could fit in anywhere.
With a sidelong glance at Jane, they moved up to the entrance. Fox gave the door attendant a nod and a smile in recognition; it was returned, if a tad thinly, as he waved the doormen to open the door. Preceding them through, he announced them to the assemblage, Fox' name first – and quickly, given his lack of title – and Jane's starting a few murmurs amongst the crowd.
And it was a crowd, Fox saw as they moved through and paused a shade dramatically at the head of the stairs.
"You'd better stay behaved," Jane whispered, barely moving her lips – despite appearances, her voice betrayed a thread of nervousness. Fox gave her a reassuring smile and shifted the arm that linked through hers, holding her hand instead, giving it a slight squeeze to match the smile. Almost unconsciously she moved her other hand to hold his one with her two; only someone close by would notice her knuckles nearly white.
He remembered only then that she had confided in him long ago that she was scared of crowds and public appearances to quite an extent. Taking that into consideration, he felt a swell of admiration for the woman at his side.
Descending the stairs, he took in the room around them. Clearly the grand ballroom, the grand staircase swept down from one of the longer sides, turning quarter-circle to end facing lengthways down the middle of the room. A crimson carpet stretched through the tables to a raised dais halfway down the room to one side. Beyond the dining half of the room lay the dance floor; Fox fervently hoped he would be able to avoid that part of the proceedings. Gentlemanly manner or not, he wasn't a particularly capable dancer – especially not in formal boots.
Having arrived at the foot of the stairs, they were still the focus of the crowd's attention – well, Jane was at least. Males stared openly – except those that were with partners, who settled for occasional surreptitious glances – and females stared daggers. Delphi didn't exactly mind being the second of attention – though he was receiving a number of appraising looks from the more forward 'ladies' in the crowd – he knew that the attention Jane was receiving only heightened her nervousness. "Don't mind me," he muttered.
As they walked to the table, Delphi adopted a walk he had used often when wanting to appear dangerous. Light-footed, almost sliding gait, with one hand clasped to the side of his coat as if ready to draw sword, concealed knives or pistol; he wished he had arranged for at least an ornamental sword. Narrowing his glance and setting his face, he looked ready to do just violence on any who so much as looked at him – or his woman – in just the wrong way. And with Jane on his arm, holding his hand, there seemed no doubt as to who his woman was – it wasn't his fault that they drew incorrect conclusions.
All of a sudden, a ripple of uneasiness swept through at least the male half of the crowd; they clearly saw a man who would brook no nonsense. If anything, it drew more female eyes than before to Delphi, but he wasn't particularly bothered – or interested.
They arrived at the raised section, where a lone table set for five lay waiting. The Kahn rose from his position, at the head of the table naturally, and moved to the edge of the dais to greet them. "My dear niece, it truly is wonderful to see you again," he addressed Jane – and the crowd – and indicated the chair to the right of his own.
Delphi released her arm and pulled the chair out for her to sit, still with his dangerous face on, though it softened significantly when she smiled her thanks.
Once she was seated, the Kahn turned to Delphi and extended his hand. "And Delphi Fox, my dear boy; such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." Clearly their previous meeting was for their knowledge only – if that was how he wanted to play, Delphi could easily oblige. "Jane had told me much of you."
"Mostly uncomplimentary, I'm sure," he replied with a smile, shaking the monarch's hand. "She knows me too well."
"Indeed," the monarch said, chuckling. "Please, be seated; I will introduce you to my other guests." The other two at the table were both men; the one directly to the Kahn's left was clearly a military man in dress uniform, bearing what Fox believed was a General's insignia. The other, to whom Fox would be seated opposite, was probably meant as a sparring partner – he had the faint permanent sneer that was the mark of a self-important courtier, though Fox' carrying himself as a warrior had clearly put a crack in the courtier's composure.
"With pleasure, sir." With a single fluid motion he lifted and drew out his chair, slipped in like water from a pitcher and lifted it back into place – seamless and all but soundless. He obviously drew the attention of the General, and heightened the nervousness of the courtier – that man pulled a silk handkerchief and sniffed into it to cover a worried frown. Fox inwardly smiled; one in that man's position should keep his face well-trained.
Seating himself, the Kahn began introductions, starting with the newcomers. "Gentlemen, I am most pleased to present my niece, Jane Pilat of Delphi. Jane, my dear, you really do visit us much too scarcely – the ladies of my court need a good showing-up more often. Humility is good for the soul, I'm told."
Jane smiled prettily at her uncle. "Really, uncle, I would manage to visit with frequency if the opportunity presented itself, but if it had not been for my friend's appointment, I might not even have managed this appearance." Oh, she was good, Fox thought – hinting at his appointment as something prearranged, and passing him for someone important enough to accompany – the courtier's face barely masked confusion.
"Besides," she added with the faintest of sniffs. "Mine is a delicate stomach, and the bearing of many of your 'ladies' is faintly nauseating – and your food is so exquisite that I could not bear to lose my appetite." Fox allowed himself a small smile at that as the Kahn laughed; the General mirrored it faintly, while the courtier looked profoundly shocked, though covered it with a sip of water.
"Such a wit!" the Kahn congratulated her. "But I neglect my duties – you really can be a distracting influence, my dear," Fox nodded faintly with a slight smile as he continued. "I introduce to you Nevel Rider, Marshal-General to the armies of Gaia."
"General," Jane murmured, extending her hand.
"My lady," Nevel responded, taking her fingers and bowing his head in respect. "My sword for your honour," he added, pledging himself to her protection.
Chimaera gave his General an appreciative look, then continued, "and Garth Ferré, Baron of the Gaia River District and member of the court." Not just a courtier, but a high ranking one, Fox thought as Jane offered her hand with murmurs of 'Baron' and 'Miss Pilat'; he noticed that there was no pledge to her honour from Ferré. If he remembered the details of the Gaian Districts, the River was one of the most influential.
"And lastly, General, Baron, I present Delphi Fox of Delphi, named in remembrance of its founder, and well worthy of the honour, in my opinion."
"You honour me beyond service, il'Khan," Fox responded softly with a nod of recognition, to a silent but intrigued acknowledgement from Chimaera, an approving nod from Nevel, and a gasp from Ferré.
'Il'Khan' in ancient Gaian implied 'Chief above all' in recognition of absolute power and responsibility, one who held the power of life and death over an entire people and their future, and carried with it the deepest respect. The diluted form in common use simply recognised authority; an administrative right and no other. Fox had long believed its adoption did a severe disservice to the Chimaera rulers and their absolute dedication to their duties and responsibilities as leaders of the Gaian civilisation.
"General," he acknowledged, extending his hand across the table. "Il'blûd Gaia," he added – 'True-blood Gaia', it referred to one that was a true and honourable follower of the il'Kahn, with undertones of respect.
"Il'blûd Gaia, Mr Fox," Nevel replied, shaking his hand with a nod and a smile, which Fox returned.
"By the way, I claim honour-right to the Lady Pilat, though gladly I acknowledge your pledge should I require aid in this service."
Nevel nodded, unconcerned. "I suspected as much; I acknowledge your precedence, and retain my pledge, though I doubt you shall require my aid."
Delphi acknowledged the point gracefully, then turned his attention to Ferré. "Greetings, Baron Ferré."
"Greetings, Mr Fox," the courtier acknowledged gracefully, though doubtless he noted that he escaped referral as a true and honourable follower.
Almost as if on cue, the food arrived; dishes served on fine Prasian China – one of the foreign civilisation's finest exports. The food was exquisitely prepared – a trifle too fancy for Fox' normal tastes, but he wasn't going let than on for an instant.
"Are you a swordsman, by any chance, Mr Fox?" Nevel asked, making small talk as he picked his way across the various dishes.
"Delphi, please General. Yes, I have knowledge of the sword, through the forms. Would you like a spar later, perhaps after dinner?"
"Nevel, please Delphi. It would be a pleasure; I would appreciate exercise, and I never was a dancer."
"'One who dances the steel may dance the floor with ease', Nevel, and don't try to tell me that you wouldn't be able to find a willing partner."
"I haven't danced since my wife passed away," Nevel explained softly.
Fox felt a pang of sympathy, but the General didn't look any older than late-30s. and he was not one to give up. "'Excuses substitute solutions poorly,'" he quoted an old adage. "A deal, Nevel?"
The General nodded, face a mystery.
"If I triumph in our sparring, you must dance a full movement of the band, with a lady of your choosing, provided she gives consent."
"And if I win?" Nevel asked, considering.
"Name your price."
"If the General wins, my friend, then you must have a dance of two full movements with me," Jane spoke up.
Nevel regarded her, then Fox. "Is this acceptable?"
"It is." They shook on it, and Fox turned to Jane. "Why such an offer?" he enquired.
She shrugged. "Because I'd like to dance," she said impishly, the implication clear. The General and Kahn guffawed, Ferré laughing politely; Fox chuckled along with them. "Be careful what you wish for, my dear," he said mysteriously, "and upon whom you bet against." He raised an eyebrow at her, then his glass. "A toast to our lady, Jane Pilat, for her quick wit."
"And sharper tongue," added her uncle.
Fox nodded amiably. "And more beautiful visage."
"Hear, hear," they all said, raising then draining their glasses; even Ferré joined in.
"Do you also dance the sword, Baron?" Fox asked.
"Ah, no, Mr Fox; I am not trained for combat; it is with the court that I am concerned."
"Is that not combat?" Fox replied, eyebrow raised. "Battles fought in the court may be bloodless, but they are no less fierce, and although a man's life may not be endangered, his pride, his honour, and his power are ever laid bare."
Ferré tilted his glass in a salute. "You are correct, Mr Fox. Perhaps I should instead say I am not trained in arms. As you say, the court is full of intrigue. Are you involved in the court, as well as the forces?"
Fox shook his head. "Neither, Baron Ferré. I am acquainted in arms and military traditions out of respect; I am no soldier, but any man of decency and honour is a warrior, and the ways of a warrior are the ways of a gentleman. Courtesy, respect, discipline – all are valuable legacies of our culture, integral to our identity, and models for our future. As for the court, well, no matter what one's battlefield, it is always wise to know one's enemy; 'through understanding lies victory'."
Avoiding the scrutiny of those at the table – and where the crowd had overheard – he elegantly sorted through what he had filled his plate with while he had been talking. Sampling Theril sweetmeats, marinated in something fruity and evenly spiced, he nodded to the Kahn. "Compliments to the chef, il'Khan. The marinade is beautiful, and the meat; so tender. He is a treasure to have in your employ."
Chimaera smiled. "Indeed; pretty much the only reason I put up with his vile temper. Everything must be just so, and mercy on any that considers standing in his way to perfection."
"Aren't all the best chefs so, though?" Fox pointed out. "To settle for the best, one must settle for the rest."
The Kahn nodded. "You have hit upon the crux of the matter I believe, and not just with chefs. You have quite an experience with the world, I perceive."
"I keep my eyes and ears open; moreover, I consider what they tell me." It was an answer, if not to the particular question, but it was not a denial either. He knew the part of the game he must play, as did the Kahn, and by the expressions on the other side of the table, they were winning easily. Admittedly, it helped that they created the rules.
They finished their meals with chatter of mildly inconsequential, confusion evident on Nevel & Ferré as Fox & Chimaera bantered like old friends, Fox putting forward various impressive insights. The two advisors were obviously trying to fathom Fox' exact placing within the administration, and just as obviously failing miserably.
"If you are not a swordsman, one wonders if you partake in the odd game of Chess?" Fox asked the Baron. Duelling with the General would win him some regard, but Ferré was not one to respect swordsmanship, and Fox didn't have the time or inclination to build influence throughout the court through playing at the Baron's own silly games. He really needed something much quicker, if not much easier.
"Naturally," Ferré replied, looking surprised. "Do you also play?"
"Any gentleman should play," Fox said with the slightest smile. "It is a valuable testing ground for tactical thought and strategy – both military and court minds can be honed with movement of the pieces. Perhaps we may have a game later?"
The Baron inclined his head. "It would be a pleasure." Expectations of an easy game were evident in his voice, but Fox was unconcerned. It was usually the most confident that were the most complacent.
For a while after the meal they talked amongst; the Kahn and Jane were in close conversation, and Fox probed the General for tales of his exploits. Nevel had been a sub-commander in the Theril Retaliation, earning many promotions until the previous Marshal-General retired in favour of the junior officer.
Ferré slipped away early on; "Affairs of court, you understand," he excused himself.
Inevitably, as the evening gave way to night, the dancing floor steadily increased its activity, and Jane was showing signs of cool reticence. In the pause after the General detailing the fall of Halit, Fox broached again the subject of their duel. The General nodded, and at a nod from the Kahn, stood.
"Do you have a sword of your own, Delphi, or shall I have one fetched?"
Fox shook his head. "I didn't expect I would require one in my stay in the palace, and have not earned the right to wear a blade by default."
The Kahn stood before the General could reply, and drew his own blade. "Here, my friend; use mine." He extended the sword hilt first across the table. Fox accepted it with a bow.
"You honour me, il'Kahn. I shall reflect that honour in its use. General; shall we clear a space in the dancing floor? Who shall announce us?"
"I shall take care of that," the Kahn assured. As a group they proceeded to the half of the dancing floor closest to their table. "How much space do you think necessary?" he asked the duellists.
"Half the floor should suffice, with plenty of room to manoeuvre. I doubt many will still be dancing when we begin," Fox said with a straight face – almost. He always did enjoy making a scene.
The Kahn raised his voice and announced "some additional entertainment for the evening," causing rather a stir as the two armed opponents faced each other, separated by two metres. The crowd backed away to the edge of the floor as the Kahn motioned them away, standing himself in the very centre of the floor with Jane. "Marshal-General Nevel Rider versus Delphi Fox, Delphi City Garrison Champion." Jane gasped as Fox nodded slightly; trust the Kahn to know everything.
"Gentlemen, you may begin when ready."
The duellists raised their blades to foreheads in formal respect, then settled into defensive positions.
The General struck first, sliding forward with his back-foot in a smooth lunge. Fox dodged to his left, allowing the blade to pass over his right shoulder, turning his twist into a roll diagonally forward, slashing sideways at the General's formerly unprotected flank, as Nevel rolled to his right to avoid the blow, twisting in a slash of his own. Fox straightened and blocked low at the blade that was aimed at where his head had been, his blade sliding with a steely ring along Nevel's, his hilt catching on the General's. The fight was joined.
To the cries of dismay at near misses, amazement at skilled parries, and groans in sympathy as Fox replied to a joint-hilt block with a blow from his off-hand to the General's sword-arm, loosening his hold and allowing Fox to twist to Nevel's off-side and level what would be a finishing blow. Nevel recovered quickly, however, and was just able to block again with his hilt, but he was in a poor position to defend. His foot swept around, however, and Fox had to delay his next attack to avoid being levelled. He spun away from the blow and set himself once more.
The fight raged for a few minutes more, neither gaining a significant advantage, as Nevel backed off, raising his blade in a call for a break. Fox raised his in acknowledgement, then relaxed. Opponents stared at each other, chests heaving with exertion.
"You fight well, General," Fox praised.
"As do you, young man," Nevel replied. He winced as he moved his sword-hand. "I didn't expect that."
Fox smiled thinly. "I know." He didn't need to add that that was precisely why he'd struck so.
"Garrison Champion?" the General half-queried, reiterating the Kahn's introduction.
Fox nodded. "Last year. They tried to keep it low profile, as I was an outsider – they allow a few non-soldiers to compete, no doubt to show their superiority."
"You showed them, though," Nevel said with a grin. "I was the Champion last year for the city," he confided.
Fox nodded again. "That doesn't surprise me. You are a formidable opponent. Shall we proceed?"
They saluted each other again and continued. Refreshed, the first blows were aggressive, but they soon settled as it was clear neither had yet an advantage in strength. Indeed, the ring of steel wasn't heard as often this round, as the duellists dodged into position rather than parry, dancing around each other on the floor. It was soon clear why Fox had wanted to commandeer so much space – they still approached the edges of the crowd on more then one occasion.
The end came when they passed near the wall; Fox dodged a blow that would have split his head like a melon by dropping low to the floor, knees bent and hands behind him. Quicker than many could follow, he kicked up with one foot, twisting the other for leverage. The kick caught the General square on his centre of mass, driving him back and off balance – into the wall.
Following through on his twist, and using the rebound from his kick, Fox swiftly spun himself upright and forward, his sword blurring to a halt inches from the General's neck. Nevel's sword lay at his feet, having fallen from his hand when he had struck the wall. He was breathing uneasily – clearly the blow had winded him.
"I yield," he gasped, and Fox withdrew his sword, moving to steady the older man.
"I'd apologise for kicking you so hard, but it was rather necessary, you understand," he sympathised.
"Oh, quite alright, Delphi; I should have seen it coming," Nevel replied, gaining his breath back. Fox bent and retrieved the officer's sword. Waving off the younger man's supporting arm, Nevel straightened. "So, I suppose you'll hold me to our wager?"
Fox nodded. "It's not so much a punishment for losing; its for your own good, really. You might wish to wait a while to recover, though – and maybe shower." They both laughed; each was sweating heavily from their efforts, and would make no woman a desirable partner.
The Kahn looked impressed, and Jane openly amazed, as the duellists moved to stand before him. Fox returned the ruler's sword, and Chimaera held it before him, his gaze evaluating. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the victor; Delphi Fox!" Cheers resounded throughout the hall. "It is also my delight to make it known that these two had a small wager on the outcome; our good Marshal-General, as the loser, must now dance one full round with a woman of his choosing – after he cleans himself up, obviously." Laughs and jeers sounded from the crowd; it was obviously well known that the General did not usually partake in dances.
"As for the winner," the Kahn continued, the hall falling silent. "I present to Mr Fox the sword with which he gained this victory; my sword in fact." Gasps from the crowd, and a flicker of amazement across Fox' expression before he masked it. "I should point out that he did not ask for this, or any prize, but such is the honour he deserves that I present this blade to him to be an heirloom of his house." He hefted the sword in his hands. "And a jolly good sword, too," he added, to a few chuckles. He presented the sword to Fox, who knelt to receive it.
Rising, Fox thrust the blade into the air. "Gladly do I accept this undeserved royal gift," he said boldly and clearly. "It shall ever be a treasure in the halls of my children – should I ever have any," he added.
The crowd laughed and dispersed as they moved from the floor. Jane did not look happy, but Fox had no time to be concerned with her just yet – he really needed a wash. "If you could excuse me for a while, I might get Karl to show me back to my rooms for a shower."
Chimaera nodded. "A good idea; you might find yourself quite unaccompanied otherwise."
Retreating back to his rooms, Fox showered and changed into another of the fancier suits – sans the jacket – in a blue to match Jane's dress.
On returning to the hall, he was greeted with quite an enthusiastic reception; the General had already returned and was dancing with one of the older court beauties – Fox found himself accosted by more than a few younger 'ladies', all begging for the opportunity to dance, at the least. Rather than refuse so many, he simply did not reply, instead walking straight along the crimson strip of carpet to the raised platform. The Kahn was enjoying a dance with an admirer, and Jane was sitting rather disconsolately alone.
"My lady?" he said, standing behind her chair. Glancing around, she stood to face him, her face a mystery – to those in the crowd, at least.
"I couldn't bring myself to throw the duel for the pleasure of a dance; the General's need was greater than mine. But, even though I won, I don't suppose you'd accept a few dances with me regardless?" He even kept a straight face, looking at her as if pleading.
She appeared to consider it. "Well, I have had many other offers..," she began, then noticed the agitation of a large number of court 'ladies' in a track back toward the stairs. "As have you, it would appear. It would be my pleasure," she accepted smugly. Accepting his arm, they moved to the floor.