Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

walked on through the shadowy passages, carefully looking neither left nor right, and just the discipline of doing so meant he was sweating hard by the time he reached what had once been King Douglas’s private quarters, since commandeered by the Emperor Finn for his own use. Two large and muscular guards at Finn’s door put Joseph through a full body search with handheld scanners before reluctantly letting him pass. They knocked on the door for him, and pushed it open. The smell of a good dinner wafted out, but Joseph didn’t feel any less uneasy. He took a deep breath, arranged his features becomingly, and walked as casually as he could manage into the lair of the Beast.
    The reception room was unfurnished except for the dinner table, and the surroundings were practically austere. No visible comforts or luxuries anywhere. The floor was polished wood, no carpeting, and the walls were bare. The lighting had been turned down only pleasantly low, and the table was covered with all kinds of food and wine, with settings for two. Joseph allowed himself to relax just a little. It seemed he was expected to last the length of the meal, at least. Finn came around the table to meet him, smiling warmly.
    “Joseph, dear old thing, right on time! Dinner’s ready, come on and tuck in! And when dinner’s done, we’ll have a nice little chat, yes?”
    Any appetite Joseph might have had disappeared with those last words, but he smiled bravely as Finn took him by the arm and led him to his place at table. Finn chattered on amiably enough, about nothing in particular, while Joseph examined the dishes laid out before him. It all looked very good, enough to make even an experienced gourmand like Joseph sit up and take notice. His mouth actually began to water a little. He unfolded his napkin, still bearing the old Campbell family crest, and allowed Finn to pile up both their plates with a little of this and a lot of that. The Emperor finally settled down into his chair, facing Joseph across the table, and gestured imperiously. A nondescript little man in a page’s outfit appeared out of nowhere, and Joseph jumped despite himself. Finn chuckled easily.
    “Relax, Joseph; he’s just the food taster. The kitchen has all the latest scanners, but a wise man doesn’t place all his faith in tech. My taster checks everything before I try it. Marvelous fellow. He’s a clone I had specially made from a famous chef, able to identify every ingredient from the merest taste, and preprogrammed with knowledge of every poison in the Empire. Doesn’t leave much room in his brain for anything else, but we all have to make sacrifices. Well, everyone but me, naturally.”
    The food taster tried a little bit of everything from Finn’s plate, considered for a moment, and then bowed and left the room as silently as he had arrived. Joseph looked at the food on his plate.
    “Isn’t he going to taste mine?”
    “Don’t be silly, Joseph,” said Finn. “Who’d care if you got poisoned?”
    “But . . . you are our beloved Emperor!”
    Finn raised an eyebrow. “I said relax, Joseph. You’re not in public now. Feel free to speak your mind on all things.”
    Yeah, right, thought Joseph, but had enough sense not to say it out loud.
    They ate for a while in silence, Joseph studying his Emperor as closely as he thought he could get away with. Finn looked as robust and handsome as ever, in good health, and certainly there was nothing wrong with his appetite. He smiled frequently, clearly enjoying his food. He used his fingers as often as his cutlery, stuffing the food into his mouth. Joseph didn’t even try to keep up. The main meat course in particular took a lot of chewing. The meat’s flavor was pleasant enough, but unfamiliar. Joseph cleared his plate finally and considered a second helping, and Finn was right there, piling up his plate again.
    “Good, isn’t it?” Finn said cheerfully. “Enjoy it while you can; supply is limited.”
    “It’s a bit gamey,” said Joseph, chewing thoughtfully. “I can’t say I recognize it. Is it some new import?”
    Finn grinned. “You could say that.”
    “What is it?”
    “More like who, actually. We’re dining on the last of the alien ambassador from Chanticleer. He’s lasted quite a while. I’ve had him roasted, fried, and broiled. I think fried was best; went very well in a nice bed of rice.”
    Joseph’s stomach churned, and it was all he could do to keep his face calm. There had been rumors