Illiance turned and looked at him in wonder. “Also, the Judge of Ages did not speak. You are practicing a deception on me. You are lying. I was not able to hear the nuances of pitch that indicated this previously. I wonder why?”

Menelaus grimaced. He was certain the Blue Men’s circuits would detect the moment he brought the chamber weapons up to ready. He did not want to jam the door until everyone was within: from outside, the murmur of the footfalls of the approaching Giant was audible.

“Not to worry, Preceptor Illiance! I will inquire of the relict what you wish to know. What was the question again?”

Illiance was merely staring at him, dumbfounded.

Despite his hopes, Oenoe the Nymph left the circle of the Nymphs, and glided across the floor to Sir Guy. He could not embrace her with a snarling albino in one hand and a knife in the other, but she could put her cheek up against the cloak on his back, and she closed her eyes in joy. She was rather short, and her cheek did not even reach his shoulder blade.

But she could see his abundant joy in his eyes, and, reflected there, her own.

9. Aanwen Concludes

On the dais, Montrose muttered, “Whoops. The jig is up.”

The only other man in the chamber who spoke English, Scipio, whispered back, “What just happened? The knight just kissed the showgirl. So what?”

Montrose muttered, “One clue too many. The Blues are about to figure what’s up.”

The Widow Aanwen said in Intertextual to Illiance, “Observe the embrace between Relict Oenoe Psthinshayura-Ah and Relict Sir Guiden von Hompesch zu Bolheim. Perform a third-level Cliometric analysis using the negative information system. Contemplate the results. There is no pattern of events whereby that woman could know that man, she having been found on a lower level of the Tombs, unless the man calling himself Beta Sterling Anubis is also one of their order, and a Knight Hospitalier.

Illiance said, “I do not have a basis to agree. Any client of the Tombs could have woken and met Tomb Guardians at any time.”

She said with weary patience, “This Tomb Guardian thawed a high-status matriarch of the Natural Order, and they took the time to learn each other’s languages and cultural-neurological assumption structures, and formed a mutual love-relationship? And this same Tomb Guardian thawed a Beta-rank Chimera, and formed a master-servant relation with him?”

Illiance gave a liquid shrug. “Human relationships are multivariable.”

“Are you men blind to these things?” demanded an exasperated Aanwen. “It was clear from his tone of voice and demeanor that the man calling himself Beta Sterling Anubis gave Sir Guiden commands, but Sir Guiden is the Grandmaster of the Order of Knights Hospitalier. There is only one superior to the Grandmaster. Observe the similarity of facial features between the man pretending to be a Chimera and the man pretending to be the Judge of Ages. They are Clades, or family-relations. The man pretending to be the Judge is close enough genetically to have fooled our DNA tests; and as a contemporary, he drinks that bitter black liquid stimulant.”

Illiance said back, “Your theory founders on the calculus of vocabulary analysis: we confirmed that the Judge of Ages was speaking words only he could have spoken.”

She said, “The interpreter is himself the man who originally spoke them.”

Illiance said, “Cogent meaning fails to be conveyed.”

She rolled her eye and turned away from Illiance. “Mentor Ull, do you follow my argument?”

Ull looked down at Aanwen, his eyes heavily lidded. “I apprehend the steps, but not the conclusion. What explanation would fit this pattern? Are you saying the Judge of Ages woke in the time of the Chimerae, and fathered a son named Anubis, who is now acting as his interpreter? The idea is without merit. It is confirmed from independent sources that the Judge of Ages is as loyal to his mate as a Simplifier. He would not mate outside the marriage covenant. Sterling Anubis cannot be the son of the Judge of Ages, for the simple reason that half-Chimerae cannot achieve Beta rank.”

Aanwen said, “He has no rank! He is not a Chimera! Sterling Anubis is Menelaus Montrose. That man is the Judge of Ages.”

Ull merely harrumphed. “You indulge in absurdities. Anubis is clownish and dull-witted.”

She said, “Very well. Let events unfold with no further contribution from me. I have done my part and more. You are not Simple, none of you! You have become Locusts!”

With this, Aanwen threw her pistol to the floor and it chimed and rang like a dropped wineglass of crystal.

She turned grandly toward the center of the room and held out her hand, palm up, toward Menelaus. “Judge of Ages, hear! I remind you of your obligation to spare Preceptor Illiance from your vengeance. Again I walk from you, and live. Sometimes the simplest solution is best.”

And she turned, and on silent gliding steps, went toward the great doors.

The Witches looked on in awe, bowed and parted to the left and right to make way for her. Even without understanding the speech, they were clearly more impressed with the actions of a Blue Woman than with anything a Blue Man would do. Small and dainty as a child, blue as a plum, she receded between the tall hooded figures of the Witch crones and their menfolk.

Aanwen was gone.

10. Oenoe’s Kiss

Sir Guiden whispered to his wife. Some of the other Blue Men, at this point, drew their pistols, some pointing at Sir Guiden, some at the bewildered Nymphs, others at Montrose.

Oenoe blew a kiss at Rada Lwa, and flower petals from her mantilla drifted toward his pale face, and he blinked, eyes unfocused, dazed.

But before she could complete her neurological spell, Preceptor Naar, nonchalantly riding one of his clanking machines, stepped between the two and parted them. Sir Guiden, at the same moment, let out a yelp and dropped his misericorde, for it had burned him. Several of the gems on Naar’s coat were active: this was the same trick used on Menelaus when first his coffin was forced open, namely, heating metal by magnetic induction.

Naar’s mechanism reached down with a large black-and-yellow painted claw, and delicately plucked Rada Lwa out of the grasp of Sir Guy, and set the albino down to one side, where he staggered, and went to one knee. With the other claw, Naar’s automaton picked up Sir Guy, dangling him like a child.

Oenoe clutched her stomach and looked wild with fright. It was the first expression Menelaus had seen on her face that seemed unrehearsed and utterly sincere, and it was an expression of utmost misery. Menelaus said in Natural, “Get the dogs away from the sarcophagus this second, and I can control the room!”

She replied in the same language, “Even I, beloved, cannot work so swiftly. The chemicals need time to react to the nervous system.”

The iron claw tightened. Sir Guiden screamed in a strangled, high-pitched voice: “Montrose! Help me! Ayúdame! MONTROSE!”

Three people reacted. Menelaus stepped forward, and brought his rock out from under his cloak, and he stiffened the fabric to steely hardness. Rada Lwa, who was kneeling, reached and plucked up the dropped misericorde and leaped to his feet, looking to see who had screamed. Scipio on the throne stood up.

Then the three men all looked at each other, surprised. Rada Lwa blinked oddly, unable to focus his eyes on the face beneath the metallic cloak of tent material. Then he looked at Sir Guiden, saying in Spanish, “Wait. Who called my name?”

Scipio said in English, “Ancestor, did you say every object was armed?” He let the black, glassy blade clatter to the dais beside him. Illiance somersaulted effortlessly out of the way like an acrobat to avoid being struck or cut by the dropped blade, and smoothly rolled upright on his feet, his face all the while serene.