“Greetings, Great Lord Merrin,” said the first one in line in a high, breathy voice. “This one is assigned to conduct you to your apartment. Will you require replacements for your human entourage?”
There must be some sort of . . . intelligence bound inside those things. But what? Whatever it was . . . this was profoundly wrong. Everything in him revolted against this. It was, to his core, disturbing.
Were there actual demons in there?
Somehow he didn’t think so. Mind, I’ve never had anything to do with demons. But still, I wouldn’t think they’d be so polite.
“I will require servants, and so will my entourage,” Merrin replied, carelessly.
“Very good, my lord. If you and your entourage will accompany this one, your beasts will be taken to the stables, and your luggage will be brought immediately.” The Doll waited silently while Merrin and his men dismounted, then as they were led off, an entire group of Dolls emerged from a storage shelter, where they had simply hung on a rack like jackets. They removed the baggage from the mules and led the beasts back into what must be the area of the stables.
Another of the Dolls approached Kordas. “Greetings, Great Duke Valdemar,” said the Doll, in a voice so like the first one’s that he could not have told them apart. “This one is assigned as your receiver, to conduct you to your apartment. Will you require replacements for your human entourage?”
Kordas gave himself a mental slap to break himself out of his stupor. “These are very special horses,” he said, tentatively.
“Yes,” the Doll replied. “Two are Valdemar Golds. They all are your Duchy’s tribute to our Glorious Emperor. All will be taken to the stables and given the best of attention, and the finest fodder. Will you require replacements for your entourage?” As it spoke, the other Dolls took the packs down from the backs of the false Golds, and waited silently for instructions.
“All but my Herald are to return immediately to Valdemar,” he said, still not sure what the right answer was.
“Our Glorious Emperor has given this one tokens so that they will return immediately to the Valdemar Gate.” The Doll held out a mitten-like hand; in it were six small papers with Imperial Seals. “Will you require replacements for your entourage?”
“Are you asking if I’m going to need servants?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes.” The Doll’s blank head made talking to it somewhat unnerving.
“Yes, please,” he confirmed. “Lads, come get your passes back, and let the—Dolls—should I call you Dolls?—take the horses to where they belong.”
The Valdemar stablehands dismounted somewhat reluctantly, and even more reluctantly, approached the Doll that was still holding out the passes. They huddled for a moment, and finally one of them snatched all six passes and distributed them to the others. “Are you sure you want us to leave you with that—thing—milord Duke?” asked the brave one, looking him fully in the face. The stablehand’s expression told Kordas that the fellow, though absolutely terrified of the creature, was perfectly willing to stay right here if the Duke asked him to.
“I’m quite sure,” Kordas said firmly, as the other Dolls led the false Golds and the three strings of tribute horses to their new home. “Off with you, my lad. Be sure and tell my lady everything that you saw here, and give her my best.”
The young fellows were clearly reluctant to leave, but even more reluctant to stay. “Very well, milord Duke,” the brave one said at last. “If you’re certain.”
“I’m certain, and you have families you need to return to,” Kordas repeated, and deliberately turned away from them. “Now, if you would be so kind, my friend, my Herald and I would greatly appreciate being taken to our quarters.”
But the Doll froze for a moment. “Great Lord Duke,” it said, after a moment. “This one is nothing. It cannot be a friend.”
“You certainly are not nothing,” he said, perhaps more sharply than he had intended. “And you certainly can be a friend.”
The Doll bowed its head briefly. “As you will,” it whispered, with an air of both uncertainty and—was it shock? “Please, come this way.”
The Dolls had picked up Merrin’s heavy luggage as if it was nothing, and they made light work of the two packs. Kordas glanced over at Beltran; the poor fellow’s eyes were as big as plates, and he looked just as reluctant to have anything to do with the Doll as the stablehands had been.
He patted Beltran on the shoulder. “It’s fine.”
“No, milord,” Beltran gulped. “It’s not fine. But I will do my duty.”
They followed the Doll up the steps of the main entrance to the Palace—two ridiculously huge doors that were at least two if not three stories tall, apparently made of solid bronze, and so perfectly balanced that he knew from being here as a child that they could be moved with a single fingertip. These stood open to the Entrance Hall.
This was a vast, echoing chamber with no obvious entrance or exit except those doors, but the walls were lined with Gate after Gate after Gate, each one framed in the same decorative metal arcs as the one they had passed through back at the manor. People and Dolls—mostly Dolls—were coming and going through them. The Doll with Kordas approached one of the Gates and spoke.
“The Copper Apartment,” it said. The mirror-surface of the Gate shivered, and cleared to reveal what looked like a fine antechamber; from here Kordas saw what looked like black and white checkered marble, some very uncomfortable-looking copper-colored furniture, and copper-colored walls.
The Doll stepped through, and Kordas and Beltran followed.
There was no sense of disorientation, probably because they weren’t actually going that far. The little antechamber was just about big enough to hold six to eight people without crowding, so the two humans and the three Dolls fit fine. The furniture—two chairs and something that passed for a little table between them—looked just as uncomfortable up close as it had through the Gate, all strange copper curves and very little padding. The Doll opened a single copper door into the apartment proper, and stood aside for them to go in.
They found themselves in what Kordas guessed was supposed to be a common room. It, too, had a black and white floor, a curved copper wall, uncomfortable copper furniture, and a green ceiling inlaid with copper squares. There was no sign of a fireplace, but the temperature was quite comfortable. Mage-lights in sinuous copper sconces lit the windowless room. Kordas judged that before his visit was over he was going to be very tired of copper.
There were three doors in the half-circle of wall. The Doll went to the right-hand one and flung it open. “This will be your chamber, milord Duke,” it said, and gestured to him to enter.