They drank and, if he anticipated more than was meant by the words, that was his loss and her victory. With him always it would be a battle. As they lowered their goblets the deep throb of the curfew gong sent little sympathetic tintinnabulations from the engraved crystal.
"Night." Gydapen's tone was sour. "And now the Sungari come into their own."
"Night." She touched the rim of her goblet as, again, the gong throbbed its warning. "I must thank you, my lord, for having fed me so well."
"Of my charity?"
"Of your charity." She smiled as if they shared a private joke. Then, growing serious, she said, "You know, the old forms have meaning. The implicit courtesy, for example, and the reminder that to be polite, even to the deprived, is to be civilized. I asked you to feed me and you did and for that I thanked you. We find it amusing, but what if I had been starving? Had I demanded you would have refused and then, in order to survive, I would have tried to take by force what you refused to give me. In which case I would have, most probably, died."
"Not you, Lavinia."
"Because you consider me to be attractive?"
"Because you are rare-a woman with intelligence and a man's ability to get your own way."
"And those things are rare?" She thought for a moment, "On Zakym, perhaps, but on other worlds? You have traveled, Gydapen. So has Roland. He tells me that, on some worlds, women are equal in all respects to men. Have you found it so?"
"It is against nature."
"It is?" She frowned, sensing more than an unthinking rebuttal and wondering why an otherwise intelligent man should have affirmed such nonsense. Had he been hurt on his travels? Meeting a woman who had beaten him at his own game? Who had mocked him and held him to scorn? If so she must be careful. Whatever Gydapen lacked it was not physical strength. In an actual fight he could break her bones and, from what she remembered of the rage which had distorted his face, he would, given cause. "Well, perhaps you are right. In any case what true woman would ever want a man as weak as herself?"
For answer he flicked the edge of his goblet with a nail and, as the thin, high chime began to fade, said, "I'll be blunt, Lavinia. I want you. I think you know it."
"You want me," she said, dryly. "As what and for how long?"
"As wife."
"I would accept nothing less."
"I would offer nothing less." His eyes met her own, hard, direct. "I have no time for games. Unite with me and, in time, our children could rule this world. Think about it."
She knew better than to jest. Returning his stare she said, with sincerity, "You have done me honor, my lord. For this I thank you."
And, if no word of love had been spoken, what of that? Did animals prate of romance when locked in the compulsion to procreate? Did babies need soft words and gentle hands in order to be conceived? She was a Lady of Zakym, not a servant girl with a too-large imagination and a too-limited awareness of reality. Gydapen had offered her power and prestige, security for her people and a father for her children. Could any man offer more?
Then why did she continue to hesitate? Why, when the aphrodisical qualities of the food and wine warmed her loins, did she continue to remain aloof?
Questions the carved figures on the stairs couldn't answer. Nor did the wooden heads in the Council chamber. Even the living remained silent, the silence a mute reproach for having being kept waiting.
Gydapen broke it. Plumping into his seat he said, "Well, you asked me to come and I am here."
Erason held the chair. Coldly he said, "The formalities must be observed. First an apology for the willful insult to the Council. Then-"
"To hell with that!" The slap of Gydapen's hand was a meaty thud rising from the table. "Get on with it or I leave."
Alcorus cleared his throat. Old, withered, he hated displays of violence. Hated, not feared, two dead men killed in a formal duel proved that.
"I'll make this short Lord Prabang. I've heard that you intend to break the Pact. Is that true?"
"And if it is?"
"I ask for the last time." The dry tones held contempt. "Is it true?"
"No." Gydapen looked around as relief made an audible rustle as clothing shifted on relaxing bodies. "I have no intention of actually breaking the Pact. But it can be altered. Adjustment can be made."
"You split hairs, my lord!"
"I'm giving you the truth, Alorcus." Gydapen returned the old man's glare. "There are valuable minerals on my lands. I intend to obtain them. That is all."
"And what of the Pact?" Navolok leaned forward in his chair. "Do you intend to defy the Sungari?"
"I've explained that."
"No." Suchong made a curt gesture. "You have done nothing of the kind. You, like all of us, have certain designated areas for mining. Now you say that you intend to extend your area of operations. This is a direct contravention of the Pact."
"It has already been contravened."
"By whom? The Sungari? How? When?"
"You want proof?"
"I demand it!" Alcorus returned to the attack. "It is essential. Without evidence I refused to accept your testimony."
"You dare to call me a liar!"
"Do you take us for fools?" With an effort Alcorus restrained his anger. "Do you ask us to destroy our heritage on your unsupported word? If the Pact has been broken then we must know how and where and in what manner. Accidents have happened before but the Pact has been maintained. It will still be maintained with good intent on both sides. But if you, or anyone, deliberately breaks if for reasons of selfish greed then the full weight of this Council will be turned against him. I call for a vote!"
Dutifully Lavinia raised her hand and, with surprise, noted that Gydapen also voted in favor. A cynical gesture or a genuine desire to keep the peace? A cunning move in order to gain time? It was possible and she wondered who had first spread the rumor. Gydapen himself, perhaps, it would fit his nature. To cry wolf again and again so that when he really did set to work who would believe it?
The Council dissolved in apparent concord, the members taking underground passages to their various places of accommodation. Lavinia made certain that Gydapen should not claim her, an act made simple by his own apparent lack of interest; another cunning move on his part, perhaps, or a demonstration of calculated patience. The average woman would have been piqued by such an apparent affront and eager to prove the worth of her attraction.
Roland pursed his lips when, later in her room, she mentioned it.
"Gydapen is cunning, Lavinia. Never make the mistake of underestimating him."
"I don't intend to."
"I watched him in the Council chamber. His rage-did you notice how artificial it was? And he seemed to want to goad certain members. The vote, of course, was a farce."
"But, even so, what could he do against us?"
The room was small; one in a relatively inexpensive hotel, the paneling uncarved, the wooden floor graced only with a thin rug. The window, now firmly shuttered, was of small panes of colored glass, reflections from the lamp filling it with a jigsaw of multicolored hues which touched Roland's hair and sharpened his features.
Quietly he said, "The wrong question, my dear. You should ask, what can we do against him should he choose to go his own way?"
"He wouldn't dare!"