by K. E. Mills
Without appearing to, he shifted his attention to the princess. Reg was right. Compared to the lavish sartorial display that was her glorious golden brother, she really did look dowdy. And then he realised no, it was more than that. She looked beleaguered. As though she were being slowly pressed flat to the floor by a weight too heavy for her to bear. Of course it could just be the strain of dealing with the king. On short acquaintance Lional did seem like a handful. But glancing around the drab office, and remembering the dilapidated state of everything except Lional and the audience chamber, he had the nasty feeling it wasn't quite as simple as that.
'Very well, Swithins,' the princess said, bringing her conversation to an end. 'Make the arrangements. I'll see the costs are covered somehow.The Kallarapi might be making things a trifle — challenging — just now but I'll be damned if the mailroom staff have to forgo their annual picnic on top of everything else.'
So. His suspicion was correct. New Ottosland was running out of money. Unbelievable. Can I pick them or can I pick them?
The princess replaced the receiver. 'Now… where were we?'
'Starting to wonder if you lot can afford a royal court wizard, actually' said Reg, her eyes bright with suspicion.
Which was true, but even so… 'No we weren't!' he said hastily. 'But if you don't mind me asking — '
This tune the princess's smile was resigned. 'Well, you were always going to find out sooner or later. New Ottosland is currently experiencing a minor and temporary cash-flow problem.'
Yes, yes, just what he needed: continued penury. Wlien Monk hears this he's going to piss himself laughing.'Because of the Kallarapi?' 'That's right: 'May I ask why?'
She fidgeted with a pen, avoiding his gaze. 'If you're worrying about being paid, Professor, don't. Lional always comes up with money for the things that matter to him.' 'Oh, I wasn't worried.' 'Speak for yourself,' said Reg.
'No,' the princess sighed.'I suppose I do owe you an explanation. So: New Ottosland Economics, A Beginner's Primer. Pay attention, you will be quizzed at the end of the lesson.'
'I already know that New Ottosland sits smack dab in the middle of a desert,' he said helpfully.
'That's right,' she said, nodding. 'The Kallarapi Desert. Which explains everything, really. You see, when the Kallarapi ceded the territory which in due course became New Ottosland — '
'Why did they do that, incidentally?' he interrupted. 'You'd think anybody who lived in a desert would welcome lots of grass and water.'
She grimaced. 'The best I've been able to figure out is that it's something religious. But since they don't discuss their religion with outsiders, that's as much as I can tell you. And anyway it doesn't much matter why, does it? It happened and now I have to live with it. So. As I was saying. When they ceded the territory a treaty-in-perpetuity was signed. We fly our balloons through Kallarapi airspace and drive camel trains across their deserts with our imports and exports and travellers and so forth, and they charge us a tariff for the privilege. And until five months ago the arrangement worked perfectly'
'So who put the fly in the ointment?' said Reg, scratching behind her head.'As if I didn't know'
'Weeeell,' said the princess at length, 'to be absolutely fair it's not completely Lional's fault.' 'Just mostly?' said Reg sweetly.
The princess ignored that. 'A month after Lional became king the old Sultan of Kallarap died and his heir Zazoor took over. Lional and Zazoor were at boarding school together in Ottosland and I'm afraid they didn't get along. They started competing with each other from the day they met, in everything from Algebra to Famous Ancestors, not to mention rugby, tennis, diving, cricket, polo and every other stupid game you can think of, and they didn't stop until the day they graduated.' She pulled a face. 'Men!
'So,' said Gerald, slowly, 'the minute Zazoor came to power he started up the old piss- er — conflict — by hiking up the tariff rates?'
'Not… exactly,' said the princess, with a look that suggested she was perfectly familiar with the original choice of phrase, thank you very much. 'Yes, he started hiking up the tariffs but only after Lional started sending him snarky little notes implying some kind of financial double-dealing on his part.' 'And was there?'
'No. At least, not that I or Treasury have managed to discover, but that's neither here nor there. The accusation's been made now, there's no way Lional is ever going to unmake it, and after all the insults that have flown back and forth between him and Zazoor I think our friendly neighbourhood sultan would rather peel himself with a blunt bread-and-butter knife than admit there might be an error with the Kallarapi bookkeeping. And now the whole thing's come to a head because Lional's withholding the latest tariff payment altogether and Zazoor is threatening a total embargo of New Ottosland in retaliation. There's a Kallarapi delegation here now, being stiff-necked and difficult and demanding their money immediately or else.'
Ah. Politics. Gerald pulled a sympathetic face. 'A sticky situation, then.'
She rolled her eyes. 'More like syrupy. I've tried to sort things out myself but it's no good, the delegation won't even begin to discuss the crisis with me. So basically our entire future is riding on this meeting between them and Lional and to be perfectly honest I don't know that I can trust him to keep his temper. And that's where you come in.'
'Me, Your Highness?' He sat up. 'What's this got to do with me?'
'Everything. I need you to be my eyes and ears in that meeting tomorrow, Professor.'
'But — you're the prime minister! Isn't international diplomacy your job?'
She slouched in her chair, sighing. 'Ordinarily. The trouble is, I'm not invited.' 'Not invited?
'The Kallarapi government is one big boys' club,' the princess said sourly. 'No girls allowed. And with the entire privy council sacked — ' 'You want Gerald to be your spy!' said Reg.
He glared at her. 'Don't be ridiculous, Reg! Her Highness doesn't expect anything of the sort!'
Reg cocked her head. 'Really? Then why is she blushing?'
It was true: the princess's face was distinctly pink. 'Your Highness?'
Princess Melissande gave Reg a daggered look, then cleared her throat. 'The term "spying" is a gross exaggeration. Of course you musn't spy on His Majesty. But since I can't be there it would be extremely useful if I were to receive a report on what transpires between the king and the Kallarapi. Matters have reached a delicate crossroads, Professor. If I'm to avert disaster I need all the help I can get!'
CHAPTER EIGHT
'Sorry,' said Reg, before Gerald could answer. 'I'm afraid that's out of the question. In fact, you'll have to find yourself another court patsy — sorry, wizard — altogether. We're leaving. Come along, Gerald.'
'I don't think so,' he said as she launched herself into the air. 'You can go if you want. But I'm staying.'
'What?' she shrieked, hovering haphazardly in front of the closed office door. 'Gerald, are you cracked? This place is an international incident waiting to happen, and the closest you want to be to an international incident is reading about it in the newspaper over breakfast on another continent! Now let's gol I'm not a hummingbird, in case you hadn't noticed, and if you don't open this door in the next five seconds my wings are going to fall off1.'
He sighed. She meant well, she really did, but it was long past time she stopped treating him like her wayward little brother. 'Sorry, Reg. As New Ottosland's royal court wizard it's my duty to assist His Majesty — and Her Highness — in resolving this unfortunate impasse with the Kallarapi. As for your wings, if you don't want them to fall off I suggest you stop flapping them.'
Panting like a bellows, Reg lurched to the nearest bookcase that didn't contain a cat and landed with a thud. 'But didn't you hear what she said? Things are going to get ugly around here! And you know my feelings about unattractive situations!'
'Yes, I do,' he agreed. 'And you know mine about conduct unbecoming to wizards. Running away at the first sign of trouble is pretty unbecoming, don't you think?' Not
to mention a shortcut to career suicide.
/ arn not giving up five minutes after getting here. I don't care how many camel pats this Zazoor starts lobbing over the border, I am staying put. And if I end up having to flush His Majesty's head down the bog to get him seeing sense, well, I'm practically a First Grade wizard. What can he do to me?
Reg slumped against the row of books behind her and draped a wing across her eyes. 'Gerald, Gerald, Gerald…' she moaned. 'You've been reading romantic adventure novels again, haven't you? What have I told you about romantic adventure novels? They're codswallop1. The only reason the heroes get out of those ridiculous dilemmas is because the writer is on their side!'
Peripherally aware of the princess's ill-concealed sardonic amusement, he fixed Reg with his severest stare. 'You're being unnecessarily melodramatic. I have every confidence we'll be able to sort out this international misunderstanding. His Majesty and the sultan may be a bit at odds, but I'm sure the last thing they want is a lot of mess they have to clean up.'
'Oh, pishwashV gasped Reg, and flew heavily from the bookcase to her original perch on his chair. 'Didn't you learn anything from your ill-advised sojourn at the DoT? The Lionals and Zazoors of this world never clean up their own messes. That's left up to the poor fools who don't know when it's time to head for the hills!'
A slow smile was spreading across the princess's face. 'Well, don't look now, Reg, but I think your friend Gerald has misplaced his watch.'
He smiled back at her. 'Seems to me, Your Highness, you're a trifle watchless yourself.'
'Oh, pleascV said Reg, flinging both wings over her eyes. 'Any second now an invisible orchestra is going to strike up a jaunty, never-say-die little tune with lovey-dovey undertones and I'll have to be sick!'
Magnificently unmoved by Reg's histrionics, Princess Melissande sat back in her chair and fixed her no-nonsense gaze on him. 'Trust me, Professor, there's not going to be an international incident over this. Or if there is, it'll be over my dead body.' 'That's what I'm talking about!' moaned Reg.
Gerald patted her on the head. 'You missed your calling, Reg. You should've been on the stage.' He looked back at the princess. 'There is one thing. What if the king commands me not to repeat anything I see or hear during the negotiations?'
She blinked. 'Oh — well — a stricture like that wouldn't apply to me. I'm his sister and his prime minister. He'll expect you to tell me so I can make the problem go away. That's what I'm for, you see. Making problems go away'
It sounded a daunting kind of life. 'Well. If you're sure…' 'Positive, Professor.' 'Then I'll do whatever I can, Your Highness.'
Was it his imagination or did he see the merest shimmer of a tear in the princess's eyes? 'Thank you,' she said.'I'm grateful.'
Marginally recovered, Reg sat up. 'How grateful?' 'I'm sorry?' said the princess, frowning. 'What's the going rate for gratitude around here?'
For a moment the princess was perplexed. Then her frown cleared. 'Ah! You mean salary? Good lord. You know, I'd quite forgotten about that.' Reg snorted.'I hadn't.'
'Behold me not shocked beyond the power of speech,' said the princess, staring over the tops of her glasses. 'Actually, now that I think about it we never did discuss remuneration, did we, Professor?'
Scandalised, Reg whacked him with her wing. 'Never discussed?' she screeched. 'Have you completely lost your marbles?'
He rubbed his arm. 'Calm down, Reg. The last time you got this excited it led to a spontaneous moulting and I don't want to go through that again! Do you?' Reg's beak closed with a snap.
'As it happens,' said Princess Melissande, 'we can offer you a package deal, Professor.' She opened a desk drawer. 'Here are two copies of our agreement, which I need you to sign.' She handed them over then gave him a pen. 'Basically we — that is to say, the Kingdom of New Ottosland — undertake to provide you with a palace suite in keeping with your august position, plus all meals, plus one day off duty per week, plus a horse from the royal stables or a carriage if you don't ride, but if you don't ride and hunt Lional will be displeased so I suggest you learn fast, plus fifty goldtroons a month from the royal Treasury. And you. Professor, in accepting the position of royal court wizard, become an honorary citizen of New Ottosland with all the rights and obligations thereto attached and undertake the performance of any and all wizardly tasks His Majesty might require.'
He handed back the pen and her copy of the signed contract. 'Provided, as we discussed, there's no conflict with my oaths of office.'
'Yes, yes, I knowV she snapped. 'Is my word on the matter sufficient or did you want it in writing?'
He swallowed. 'Your word is perfectly sufficient, Your Highness.'
'Good! Because while we're embattled, Professor, we're hardly unprincipled!'
'Of course you aren't,' Reg muttered. 'You just don't pay your bills.' 'RegV
The princess stood. 'And now I'll show you to your apartment.'
'You don't need to do that, Your Highness,' he said, scrambling to his feet. 'Surely there's a servant who can direct us? I don't want to hold you up — '
'Too late,' she said. 'Besides. Your suite is on the way to the guest quarters for the Kallarapi delegation and I still have to tell them about their audience with the king. Come on…' She squeezed out from behind her desk and crossed to the office door with a finger snap at Boris. Grinning, the cat leapt lightly from its bookcase perch and joined her at the door. 'I don't have all day'
'Of course not, Your Highness,' said Gerald. He shoved his employment terms into his pocket, picked up his carpet-bag, waited for Reg to hop onto his shoulder, then followed the princess out of the cluttered room. 'And here we have Ancestors'Walk,' she said as they turned yet another corner to be confronted by a long, wide, high-ceilinged corridor whose walls were covered with slightly tatty flocked wallpaper and crowded with ornately framed portraits. 'Or, as I prefer to call it, the Rogues' Gallery. All the kings and princess consorts since New Ottosland was settled.'
'It's very impressive,' he said, slowing his pace to examine the faces.
She spared him a wry glance, for once matching his speed.'Oppressive, you mean.' 'And which ones are your parents?'
The princess pulled a face. 'Oh… well, actually, they're the only ones not here. Lional didn't get along with them so he refuses to hang their portraits. I'm hoping to sneak them in when I can be sure he won't notice.'
'Oh,' he said, and thought of the casual camaraderie and genuine affection he shared with his own parents.'I'm sorry to hear that.'
She shrugged. 'Don't be. I can't say I was overfond of them myself. Well, of my father. I sometimes think he'd have taken more interest in us if we'd had petals and stamens instead of arms and legs. As for my mother, I never really knew her. She died when I was very small.'
'What did I say?' Reg whispered in his ear. 'Practically motherless. I can always tell. Before you know it she'll be thanking me for my excellent grooming advice, just you wait.'
Reg's buzzing tickled; Gerald rubbed his ear and said, 'I really am sorry to hear that, Your Highness.'
'Goodness,' the princess said briskly. 'Don't waste your sympathy on me, Professor. One quickly learns not to pine after the unattainable.' She picked up her pace again.'Shall we get on?'
'You certainly have a lot of ancestors, Your Highness,' he said, as the array of portraits continued. 'Do you remember all their names?'
'Of course. On the left we have the Lionals and on the right, the Melissandes.' 'I beg your pardon?'
She pulled a face. 'Welcome to New Ottosland, Professor. A kingdom of Tradition.' He considered her. 'You said that with a capital T'
'I did, didn't I?' She came to an abrupt halt, halting him, and looked him square in the eye.'Do yourself a favour, Professor, and don't ever forget it. Lional's doing his best to modernise us but I'm sorry to say it's an uphill battle. Here in New Ottosland we live and die by Tradition. You might think the horse-and-carnage look is quaint but trust me, it palls very quickly. Howeve
r, since horses and carriages are what they had in colonial times that's what we still have today. No cars allowed. For the same stupid reason we don't have electricity, mass public transport, a stock exchange or any number of other modern conveniences which I'm sure you've taken for granted your whole life. Here in traditional New Ottosland we have candles and gaslight and an erratic hot-air balloon service, at least when the Kallarapi let us, and carriage post and exorbitantly expensive horseback couriers.'
'What about your telephone? That's modern, isn't it?'
'The only reason we've got telephones is because I argued myself practically into asphyxiation to get them after there was an incident at the Mint, and only then in the palace and public institutions. That, Professor, is the sole concession to modernity you'll find around here. Oh, and me not having to wear crinoline and hoops.' She shuddered. 'And if you only knew what I went through to win that argument…'
'It's one you'd have been better losing,' said Reg. 'Hoops would do wonders for your posture, my girl.'
The princess looked at him. 'Tell me it gets better.'
'Sorry,' he said, shrugging. Then he stared again at the crowded wall of portraits. 'So let me see if I've got this right. All the kings are called Lional because the very first king of New Ottosland was a Lional?'
'Exactly,' she said, pleased. 'And since his princess consort was called Melissande, all princesses, consorts or otherwise, are called Melissande.' She marched off again, adding over her shoulder, 'Whether it suits them or not.'
'Well,' he said, catching up to her, 'I suppose it prevents unpleasant arguments at naming day celebrations. What about the queens of New Ottosland, then? What are they known as?'
