belong the spoils, and women were spoils. Suddenly, my pleasure faded away.
“Johnny, what I am going to do here?”
“Don’t worry ’bout it, darlin’. You just stick close to me.”
“Like super glue,” I said.
I don’t remember much about my first entrance into Truscan society, actually. I was too busy sticking to Johnny like super glue. The castle, the Rata, ate together, much as I remembered traditional castle life in medieval England and Europe. A great chair, massive and intricately carved, was placed at the center of the highest table stood vacant. I didn’t have to ask whose it was. Johnny sat down in the smaller chair beside it, obviously his position of honor as Dalph’s troubleshooter, and seated me beside him.
There were few vegetables, but there was plenty of meat. There were side dishes reminiscent of salads, dressed with some light dressing. The names of the ingredients danced on my tongue, but I couldn’t place them. Trusca must, undoubtedly, have herbs and spices very similar to Earth’s.
What I remember most were the stares, which came at me from all sides, and most especially from the table on the right, where sat Baka of Canor.
“Johnny,” I whispered. “That man, Baka—”
“Ignore him,” he said shortly. “You’re Dalph’s favored. And I’m just about to make sure everybody knows that,” he said as he rose to speak. The great hall quieted as he rose, evidence of the power he held, both in his own right, and as the right-hand of Randalph of Trusca. I had no idea what he was saying, but as he finished, the entire hall rose as one, and half-bowed and/or curtsied in my direction. I stared.
“What was that?” I whispered, as he sat.
“You’ve been sent. From Beyond the Door. Directly to Dalph.”
“In other words,” I translated, speaking slowly, “I’m off-limits.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How nice,” I said.
He took me for a walk through the grounds after supper.
“Herb gardens,” Johnny pointed out. “Pretty much the same as ours. Could you tell from supper?”
“Yes. The salad dressing.”
“Something like tarragon and wild onion,” he affirmed. “You’ll fit in real quick, Tess. Don’t worry.”
“You keep saying that, but fit in doing what?”
Johnny paused in his stride and looked around for his bearings, spotting a carved wooden bench. He took my arm and guided me over. “Why don’t we sit a spell?”
I sat.
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and then he spoke.
“You know full well corporations and countries don’t run without a lot of organization. Some folks good at that, some not so good. You got to be good, what you did. I really do need help.”
“And I’m glad to do it, but that’s not all. Is it?” I asked, studying his face.
“Dalph has a son,” he said.
“I’m not surprised,” I responded. “So where’s the queen?”
“I said he has a son. His queen died in childbirth. Kiera’ll tell you if I don’t, so I will. Dalph counts that one of the greatest blessings of his life. So do I. She was from the House of Canor, Baka’s niece, in fact. State marriage of course, Dalph was real young, just approaching twenty. Needed every edge he could get to hold things together. Didn’t work out real well. Anyway, his son—also Randalph of Trusca, but we call him Dal—he’s ten. I’m more spread out now than I was when Dalph was young, but Dalph and I’ve both tried to give him the same education Dalph got. My boys, they’re twelve and fourteen so they’re sort of past the actual tutor stage, but I’d love for you to spend some time with them, too.”
“Greek mythology been that much use to Dalph?” I asked.
“Greek—oh. Pegasus. Well, Dalph and I got along real well from the beginning. That was the deal. I told him a story; he had to tell me another. He was seven , Tess. So I guess you could say we swapped worlds with each other.”
“Don’t know how well that’ll work until I can learn