Suldrun said uncertainly, "Father, marriage is nothing I care to think about."

Casmir narrowed his eyes. Again: the hint of wilfulness! In reply he used a voice of bluff jocularity. "I should hope not! You are only just a child! Still, you are never too young to be conscious of position. Do you understand the word ‘diplomacy'?"

"No, Father."

"It means dealing with other countries. Diplomacy is a delicate game, like a dance. Troicinet, Dahaut, Lyonesse, the Ska and the Celts, all in pirouettes, all ready to join in threes or fours to deal the outsiders their death-blow. I must ensure that Lyonesse is not excluded from the quadrille. Do you understand my meaning?"

Suldrun considered. "I think so. I'm happy that I must not do any such dancing."

Casmir stood back, wondering whether she might have perceived his meaning all too well. He said shortly: "That's all for now; be off with you to your proper quarters! I will speak to Lady Desdea; she will find you a suitable set of companions." Suldrun started to explain that she needed no new companions, but glancing up into King Casmir's face, she held her tongue and turned away.

In order to obey King Casmir's command in its exact and literal sense, Suldrun ascended to her chambers in the East Tower. Dame Maugelin sat snoring in a chair, with her head thrown back.

Suldrun looked out the window, to discover the steady fall of rain. She thought a moment, then slipped past Dame Maugelin into her dressing-room and changed into a frock woven from dark green linen. With a final demure over-the-shoulder glance toward Dame Maugelin she left the chambers. King Casmir's order had been obeyed; if he chanced to see her she could demonstrate as much by her change of garments.

Daintily, step by step, she descended the stairs to the Octagon. Here she halted to look and listen. The Long Gallery was empty; no sound. She wandered an enchanted palace where everyone drowsed.

Suldrun ran to the Great Hall. The gray light which managed to seep through the high windows was lost in the shadows. On silent feet, she went to a tall narrow portal in the long wall, looked over her shoulder, mouth twitching up at the corners. Then she tugged open the massive door and slipped into the Hall of Honors.

The light, as in the Great Hall, was gray and dim, and the solemnity of the chamber was enhanced. As always, fifty-four tall chairs ranged the walls to left and right and all seemed to stare in brooding disdain at the table which, with four attendant and lesser chairs, had been placed at the center of the room.

Suldrun surveyed the interloping furniture with equal disapproval. It intruded into the space between the tall chairs, and impeded their easy intercourse. Why would anyone do so clumsy a deed? No doubt the arrival of the three grandees had dictated the arrangement. The thought stopped Suldrun in her tracks. She decided to depart the Hall of Honors at once... But not quickly enough. From outside the door: voices. Suldrun, startled, froze into a statue. Then she ran back and forth in confusion, and finally darted behind the throne.

At her back lay the dark red gonfalon. Suldrun slipped through the slit in the fabric into the storage room. By standing close to the hanging and twitching open the slit, Suldrun watched a pair of footmen enter the hall. Today they wore splendid ceremonial livery: scarlet puff-pantaloons, black and red striped hose, black shoes with curled tips, ocher tabards embroidered with the Tree of Life. They paced around the room setting alight the wall sconces. Two other footmen carried in a pair of heavy black iron candelabra, which they set on the table. The candles, each two inches thick and molded from bayberry wax, were also set alight; Suldrun had never seen the Hall of Honors so resplendent.

She began to feel annoyed with herself. She was the Princess Suldrun and need not hide from footmen; still, she remained in concealment. News traveled quickly among the corridors of Haidion; if the footmen saw her, soon Dame Maugelin would know, then Dame Boudetta, and who knows how high the story might rise?

The footmen completed their preparations and retired from the room, leaving the doors open.

Suldrun stepped out into the chamber. Beside the throne she paused to listen, face slantwise, fragile and pale, alive with excitement. Suddenly bold, she ran out across the chamber. She heard new sounds: the jingle of metal, the tramp of heavy footsteps; in a panic she turned and ran back behind the throne. Looking over her shoulder she glimpsed King Casmir in full panoply of might and majesty. He marched into the Hall of Honors, head high, chin and short blond beard jutting. The flames from the sconces reflected from his crown: a simple gold band under a circlet of silver laurel leaves. He wore a long black cape trailing almost to his heels, black and brown doublet, black trousers, black ankle-boots. He carried no weapon and wore no ornament. His face as usual was cold and impassive. To Suldrun he seemed the embodiment of awful pomp; she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under the gonfalon into the back room. Finally she dared to stand erect and peer through the slit. King Casmir had failed to notice a twitching of the gonfalon. He stood by the table with his back to Suldrun, hands on the chair in front of him.

Heralds entered the room, two by two, to the number of eight, each bearing a standard displaying the Lyonesse Tree of Life. They took positions along the back wall. Into the room marched the three grandees who had arrived earlier in the day.

King Casmir stood waiting until the three had separated to stand by their chairs, then seated himself, followed by his three guests.

Stewards placed beside each man a silver chalice which the chief steward filled with dark red wine from an alabaster pitcher. He then bowed and departed the room, and after him, the footmen and then the heralds. The four sat alone at the table.

King Casmir held aloft his chalice. "I propose joy to our hearts, fulfillment to our needs and success to those goals which we hold in mutuality."

The four men drank wine. King Casmir said: "Now then, to our affairs. We sit in informality and privacy; let us speak in candor, without restraint. Such a discussion will yield benefit to us all."

"We will take you at your word," spoke Sir Milliflor. He smiled a thin smile. "Still, I doubt if our hearts' desires run quite so closely in conjunction as you envision."

"Let me define a position which all of us must endorse," said King Casmir. "I cite the memory of the olden times, when a single rule maintained a halcyon peace. Since then we have known incursions, pillage, war and suspicion. The two Ulflands are poisonous wastes, where only the Ska, robbers and wild beasts dare walk abroad. The Celts are suppressed only by dint of constant vigilance, as Sir Imphal will attest."

"I do so attest," said Sir Imphal.

"Then I will put the matter into simple terms," said King Casmir. "Dahaut and Lyonesse must work in concert. With this combined force under a single command, we can drive the Ska out of the Ulflands, and subdue the Celts. Next Dascinet, then Troicinet; and the Elder Isles are once more whole. First: the merging of our two lands."

Sir Milliflor spoke. "Your statements are beyond debate. We are halted by a set of questions: Who becomes preeminent? Who leads the armies? Who rules the realm?"

"These are blunt questions," said King Casmir. "Let the answers wait until we are agreed in principle, then we will examine such possibilities."

Sir Milliflor said: "We are agreed on the principles. Let us now explore the real issues. King Audry sits on the ancient throne Evandig; will you concede his preeminence?"

"I cannot do so. Still, we can rule in tandem as equals. Neither King Audry nor Prince Dorcas are stern soldiers. I will command the armies; King Audry shall conduct the diplomacy."