A Sudden Wild Magic

That Zillah could stoop to make love to Tod really hurt. The High Head was not aware of hating Tod particularly, but he saw — with passionate relief — that here was his chance to get rid of him in a way most profitable to Arth.

The real stumbling block was the inevitable reaction from the Pentarch of Frinjen. The High Head was careful to keep abreast of affairs at home. He was well aware that Tod’s father, August Gordano, despite being a fool, had, if he chose to use it, enormous clout in the Pentarchy. Even Lady Marceny referred to August as “that bluff old sweetie” and seemed— surprisingly — to value his opinion. Furthermore, Roderick Gordano was Frinjen’s only son. Even Arth was not free to deprive a Fiveir of its sole heir. That would bring the king in, heavily, on Frinjen’s side.

With thoughtful eagerness, the High Head contacted Records Horn and had them send the Gordano family tree through to his main mirror. It was headed by August wed Amy Adonath and followed by no less than six daughters preceding young Roderick into the world.

The High Head shuddered a little at such crude persistence. The good Amy must be nothing more than a brood mare. He moved the display with a gesture, searching for males to whom the birthright could also descend. Five of the daughters had sons, any of which were likely — but Pentarchs never did favor the female line. The High Head was in sympathy with that, though he could at a pinch argue — Ah! This was better. Going back a generation, August’s father had married twice. One son survived from this second marriage (though with the symbol alongside his name that suggested dubious personal morals). The younger son of this marriage was long dead, having wed a gualdian woman. Interesting. His son, however, survived: Michael Gordano, born within a month of Roderick.

That settled it. Tod had a cousin supremely well qualified to hold the birthright. August Gordano could shout all he liked, but no one could say Arth had left Frinjen without an heir. Arth had its laws. Gordano had been caught breaking them. No one could bully Arth into false leniency.

He banished the display as Brother Wilfrid entered, breathless but very ready with his version of the matter.

“And that’s about the size of it, High One. I’ve known all along the fellow was subversive. He’s been brought up to think himself entirely above the law — and for that we should pity him, of course — but his total levity is all his own. He regards Arth as a joke, High One. As for that unclean woman—!”

The High Head looked into Brother Wilfrid’s pale face and saw it quivering with prurient hate. “Center yourself, Brother Instructor!”

Brother Wilfrid did so — or at least contrived to control himself a little — with obvious effort. “The centaur and the gualdian servicemen are down there, too, somewhere, sir. We don’t know their exact role in the affair, but they certainly connived at it. They missed parade without excuse and are now hiding. We’re looking for them now.”

“Scared, I suppose,” said the High Head. In the normal way, a centaur and a gualdian would form a powerful combination. But — he thought of the pallid horse-man, birthmarked and knock-kneed, and skinny Philo with those enormous hands and feet — not those two. “Send them to me as soon as you find them. I’ll see Gordano now.”

Before Tod was marched in, the High Head made efforts at least as strenuous as Brother Wilfrid’s to center himself. He thought he had. Therefore, it was quite a surprise to him that the mere sight of Tod’s jaunty figure and cool gaze brought him ablaze with anger — though why the anger should be accompanied by deep hurt puzzled him more than a little.

“Well, serviceman,” he asked, “what have you to say for yourself?”

“Nothing,” Tod said frankly. “I was doing what I was doing, and Brother Wilfrid came along and saw me, and that’s all there is to it really.” There seemed very little else he could say. But he did not deceive himself that his frankness pleased the High Head. He could feel anger beating off the man, like the heat when you open an oven. He saw that the result of this anger would be an even heavier penance than he had been expecting: fasting, compulsory prayer, maybe a very stiff term of solitary confinement — or perhaps worse. There were whispers, he remembered, of extremely horrible punishments of a secret nature — but here Tod found he had lost all desire to speculate and simply composed himself to receive whatever it was.

The High Head thought, You think your birth makes it impossible for me to touch you, don’t you? “In short, you admit to being taken in oathbreaking.”

The angry grind in his voice caused Tod to jump slightly and find he was not as composed as he thought. “Only after a fashion, sir. With respect, I’d like to point out that as a serviceman, I haven’t taken any Oath to break.”