Thanks again to Iriad Alianath, who gave me excellent suggestions (many of which have been incorporated into the chapters which follow).
*****
- "You're not really from Pylos at all - are you?" said Countess Kanitz.
I hesitated just a split-second too long. She had me - and she knew it. Talley'd been wrong: I wasn't a very good liar, after all.
There's a story about a little chick (a baby chicken) who wasn't paying attention in the farm yard. A cow unloaded a massive dump on her. Covered in bovine excrement (almost submerged in it, in fact), the little chick began plaintively calling for its mother.
A hawk heard the chirping, and swooped down, to collect the little chick.
The moral of the story is, when you're neck deep in shit, keep your mouth shut. Things can always get worse.
Countess Kanitz was studying me. She didn't seem angry to me - more ... curious.
- "Care to tell me the truth?" she said.
Ouch.
- "I'm not sure that you'd believe me, Countess." I said.
- "It's really quite odd. The Pylos that you've described in our conversations is somewhat like the place Pratha told me about. But different, too, in several key particulars."
"Pratha had never heard of Owusu. And you've obviously never met either of them. Yet all three of you have travelled to our shores."
"How many Pylosians have come to the Westron Kingdom? I find it hard to believe that you wouldn't know each other - that you never met to compare your impressions, or to share knowledge. Is there no 'Westron explorers' club' in Pylos?"
I had no answer for that shrewd guess.
"You know, none of the Pylosians who've been here ever came back. Once they leave, they never return. Isn't that odd?"
"I gave Pratha a letter for Owusu. There was no reply. Wouldn't you think that at least
one
Pylosian who came here would have formed a meaningful friendship? That they might correspond with a Westron friend? They'll sire children, but they won't write a letter?"
"You seem to have truly loved your Vanova. But you never mentioned writing to her. A Pylosian ship brought you to Cercen - might not another carry a letter back for you? Or is it that you
cannot
write to her?"
"Did you make her up? She sounded so real."
- "She's real." I mumbled. I'd almost said: She
was
real.
- "But she's not in Pylos, is she? Is that why you don't write?"
Kanitz was too damned smart. She couldn't envision space travel, but she knew - thanks to Themis, no doubt - that the only letters I'd written while I was at Tonol had been delivered to Cercen - to Talley. From him they'd gone straight to Kanitz herself.
With their technology, letter-writing was the
only
form of long-distance communication. I knew that. But humanity had long lost the ability - and the inclination - to communicate in that manner. And Kanitz had figured it out.
She was sitting on the bed, with her legs off to the side. Still naked, which was more than a little distracting. That might have been one reason why my brain was working so sluggishly. I couldn't think of a damned thing to say that would help.
Kanitz simply watched me, and waited.
- "I don't want to lie to you." I said.
- "But you won't tell me the truth."
- "That's ... not quite the same thing."
- "Evasion." she said, with a sigh. Kanitz slid off the bed, and reached for a robe.
"We might as well have something to eat, I suppose. Are you hungry?"
I looked at her, in disbelief.
- "But ...?"
She came to my side of the bed, and rested one knee beside me. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek.
- "Cook - I'm not going to have you arrested, or imprisoned. You know
my
secret, remember?"
"You saved Tonol, so the Queen is in your debt. Langoret swears that you're some kind of military genius. Aneli says that she'll need a year to recover before her next hemmer."
"And Themis says that you are a good man. The best she's ever met."
I blushed.
"There." said Kanitz. "How can you do
that
- and yet lie about who you are, and where you come from?"
I was completely at her mercy. She stood up, and paced the room.
"Cook, Cook, Cook. What am I to make of you?"
- "Do you need to know so badly, Countess?" I asked. "Isn't it enough to know that I'll do everything I can to help you defeat the Crolians?"
She paced some more.
- "I suppose the secret - or secrets - are older than you are. The mysteries of Pylos are one thing, or many things - and you're another. Your story of exile ... that also rang true."
"Ah, well ... One thing at a time. Food, first. Then we'll see about having sex again. I think I'd like to be on top, this time."
***
She fed me, while sitting on the bed, wearing a robe that did little to conceal her charms. It gaped open, at the top, revealing the shape of one perfect breast. It also left a delectable stretch of thigh uncovered.
It may seem odd, that in my present predicament, I was growing aroused. I should probably have been afraid - or busily trying to construct some plausible lies.
But she'd said she wasn't going to kill or imprison me.
- "Why did you help me gain command of a regiment?" I asked her.
- "You mean, if I thought you were lying about Pylos?" She smiled. "Perhaps it's the way my mind works. I seem to be like a cabinet, with separate drawers for all of my different concerns."
"Pylos and Pylosians ... Whatever your people were doing here, I suspect that they did not intend to harm us. Not directly, at any rate. Then they all left, so I closed that drawer."
"There was Talley, of course. I had him watched, discreetly. He is no spy."
"And more than a decade later, you arrived. I found you interesting, and ..."
She brushed back her hair, and tucked a few rebellious strands behind her ear.
