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He'd let each subject people rule themselves by their own laws and leaders,
after swearing fealty to him as their sovereign. Guiscard had begun to do
this, and was finding that it greatly reduced revolts and other unrests.
And again following Guiscard's example, he would appoint Jews and Greeks to
administer the offices of government. They had the knowledge, could read and
write and compute; and besides, he said, Normans had no genius for the job.
I decided that Arno had the makings of a good ruler.
"But look," I told him, "today you won't even trust me to hold the speaking
amulet in my hand. Yet later, you're going to trust me to leave this world in
the skyboat?"
"Of course," he said. "Things will be different then."
"Different how?"
He didn't answer for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to tell me.
"First, I shall require your oath," he said at last, "and then I shall marry
your sister. She and our children should be assurance enough that your oath
will be kept."
I guess my expression must have told him what kind of jolt that was, because
he added: "Do not be concerned. I shall always treat her honorably and respect
her ways, requiring only that she be baptized. Admittedly I have scarcely
spoken to the lady, but I have often thought about her, remembering what she
looked like, and how brave she proved in the teeth of your enemies in
Normandy. Thus not only have
I yearned for her in seeming hopelessness, but I
admire her greatly."
I didn't say anything; it seemed best not to. And I
guess Arno decided he'd said too much, because after a quiet minute or so, he
excused himself and left. I
don't suppose it ever occurred to him that Deneen might have other ideas,
might tell him to go jump in the whirlpool Charybdis. At the very least.
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The ship from Reggio didn't arrive that afternoon, and I could see why: a
south wind was a head wind. It wasn't practical to sail south in the gritty
teeth of the sirocco. We'd see what tomorrow brought.
Meanwhile the servants would have to feed the horses hay.
That evening we ate with the other knights and sergeants and their squires in
the dungeon, twenty-one of us in all. I was the only one who didn't wear a
hauberk at the table. It was a strange tradition. But at least no one wore
their helmet.
When Roger was at home, Arno told me, Roger and his family customarily ate
dinner with the troops. At other times his family ate separately, which
apparently was different from Norman custom. In any case, the food was a lot
better and more varied than it had been at Roland's castle in Normandy.
Also, there was wine instead of sour beer, and when the eating had slowed down
a little, there was storytelling. One of the knights, Rollo, wanted me to tell
about India, but I could see that getting awkward. I wasn't sure I could lie
fast enough, or convincingly enough, or keep my lies consistent. So I told him
I could speak of it only in my own language. Rollo decided that was an insult,
and challenged me to fight-he'd drunk at least three or four big cups of wine,
while I'd been getting through the evening on just one.
I wanted to avoid a fight if at all possible, for two reasons. Make that three
reasons. Even if the fight started without weapons, I wasn't sure it would
stay that way. Second, I didn't want them to know about hand-foot art; it was
my secret weapon. And third, I
don't like to fight. But Arno handled the situation;
he got up and said it was unseemly to ask a holy monk to fight. And when the
marshal of the house troops agreed with him, Rollo didn't push it.
Meanwhile it had gotten dark outside, and the lighting was poor, of course-a
dozen of the crude oil lamps. Some of the troops went to their sleeping places
and lay down; I decided that was a good idea and followed their example. After
an hour I was still awake, still listening. The stories were interesting, and
I was following the Norman with only a little trouble now and then where I
lacked a key word or concept. The lamps had burned low or out, all that was
left of the hearth fire was embers, and the last three or four men finally
gave it up for the night.
I remember thinking that I wished Deneen would call.
Minutes later I was asleep.
The reason she hadn't called was too much mental activity in the hall, which
made it impossible for
Bubba to read my thoughts. I'd been asleep long enough that the lamps and
hearth fire were entirely dark when the remote spoke in my ear.
"Larn! Larn! Wake up. I've got something important to tell you."
Something important to tell me? The thought that hit me was that they'd
detected an Imperial cruiser.
"Not that bad," she said. "A complication, not a catastrophe."
"What complication?" I thought to them.
"I was doing a routine check of ship's systems a while ago, and the fuel slugs
have serious peripheral crystallization."
I thought I knew what could have caused it, or at least contributed to it:
prolonged and constant operation in mass-proximity mode. I knew for sure
what would happen if it wasn't reversed: It would get worse. And the further
crystallization advances, the faster it advances, until beyond some critical
point, you can't activate FTL mode anymore. If that happened to us, we could
be stuck on Fanghth forever.
"A shutdown should reverse it," I thought back at her.
"According to the systems manual," she answered, "it will have to be about a
six- to ten-day all-systems shutdown. The only alternative is to head outbound
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