And how often did Miguel himself consider suicide? Had he had some hidden protection against Kesley's knife, moments ago downstairs, or had the Duke been half-hoping the blade would strike true?
Miguel looked up slowly. His eyes, deep and piercing, bored into Kesley's. "You amuse me," Miguel said. "When one is more than four centuries old, one is hard put to find amusement. I am amused by the possibility that you might strike me dead at any moment."
"I'm amused by the fact that you're not afraid of me. Awed, yes, but not servile. How many times a day do you think I hear that hateful word 'Sire'? _Sire!_ Me, who has sired eight dead babes and nothing more."
Kesley looked away, embarrassed. "Sire also means ruler," he pointed out in a muffled voice.
"That, too," Miguel said. "I rule, and it is my life to rule. I have ruled four hundred years, and I will rule four thousand more--or four thousand thousand, or four million. But I can never stop ruling. It is a burden I can never put down. Who would fill the vacuum I would leave?"
"There were rulers before the Twelve Dukes."
"And they destroyed the world! Destroyed it--and in so doing, brought _us_ into being. No, stranger, my Dukedom I can never put down. But it wearies me to make always the petty decisions, to govern the lives of petty--"
"Why are you telling me all this?" Kesley burst out.
"Mere amusement," Miguel said evenly. "I enjoy talking to you. What is your name?"
"Dale Kesley," Miguel repeated. "A fine North American name, square-cut and undistinguished. I like it."
The Duke gestured toward a communicator-tube on his desk. "Bring that to me."
Shrugging, Kesley handed him the tube. Miguel switched it on. "Send Archbishop Santana here at once," he barked, and cut the channel.
He glanced at Kesley. "The Archbishop will swear you to my service, Dale Kesley."
"But I'm a vassal of Duke Winslow," Kesley protested.
Miguel chuckled heartily. "A vassal of Duke Winslow," he mimicked. "Vassal, indeed. You turn down my offer? You throw Duke Winslow in my face?"
"Oaths? Who are you to talk of oaths? You're nothing but a paid assassin--don't think I haven't overlooked that."
Kesley started to protest, but saw there was nothing to be gained by arguing. Miguel would never believe him.