In the Palace of the Khans Read Online Free PDF

visited a falconer who’s said he’ll give me lessons …”
    â€œI have eagles in my falconry, Nigel.”
    â€œWow! That’s because you’re the Khan? Like the snow ibex?”
    The President didn’t reply at once, then nodded. It wasn’t an answer to what Nigel had said. It meant that he had passed the test, whatever it was.
    â€œYou know the actress Helena Bonham Carter?” said the President.
    â€œI’ve seen something she was in, sir. I can’t remember what.”
    â€œI have a CD of The Wings of a Dove , but it is unsuitable. Do you remember the manner in which she speaks?”
    â€œVery upper-class, lady-of-the-manor, isn’t it?”
    â€œThat is how I wish my daughter to speak English. I learnt the language in too much of a hurry. I did not have the patience to acquire a good accent. I do not wish to have my daughter’s English corrupted by this sort of thing.”
    He flicked a hand towards The Simpsons chattering away on the vast TV.
    â€œI get teased at school for having a nobby accent, sir.”
    â€œExcellent. That is exactly how I wish my daughter to speak. With a nobby accent. This idiot programme is almost finished, and then I will introduce you. Forgive me. I have work to do.”
    He returned to the sofa, picked up his file of papers and started to read.
    Nigel gazed round the room while he waited. He had a bit more control of himself now. He thought he’d coped OK with the monster. The weird old man—it must be a man, he’d decided—who’d met him at the door had returned to his post beside it and was sitting motionless on a sort of high stool with his one good eye gazing directly at Nigel. It made him feel uncomfortable, so he looked elsewhere.
    It was a strange room, a kind of mix between the amazing entrance hall below and the boring lobby just outside. Two large windows in the far wall looked out through the stone lattice towards the river and the embankment beyond. The other three walls were covered with pale green and gold carved panelling, obviously old. Each of them was framed by a painted climbing creeper, twisting around itself, with small bright birds here and there among the leaves. The vaulted ceiling was pale blue, ribbed with gold. But the furniture was almost all modern, comfortable but dull. One exception was an ornate chess table, with the pieces arranged on it ready to be played. Nigel went over and looked at it. The squares were black marble and mother -of-pearl. The pawns were fierce-looking warriors, the rooks were elephants with men in little turrets on their backs, the knights were horsemen, and so on.
    The President looked up.
    â€œYou like it?” he said.
    â€œOh, it’s awesome, sir! But it would be difficult to play with. You have to be able to recognise …”
    â€œOf course, for serious chess. You play?”
    â€œYes, sir. I’m in the school team.”
    â€œExcellent. I like to relax during my luncheon. We will play then.”
    â€œI think my mother’s expecting me back for lunch, sir.”
    â€œNot ‘luncheon’?”
    â€œOnly if you’re very old-fashioned, sir.”
    â€œI am. My secretary will call your mother. You may speak to her yourself, if you wish.”
    â€œI’m sure it will be all right, sir.”
    (“The President of Dirzhan is a monster. I played chess with him.” Wow! Except that Dad wouldn’t let it through.)
    â€œMy secretary will let you know. Ah. Now, Taeela, pull yourself together and behave as your mother would wish. You have a guest to welcome. Nigel, this is my daughter Taeela. And this, my dear, is Nigel Ridgwell.”
    The girl had uncurled from the sofa, deliberately unwilling, like a cat disturbed from its slumbers. She pouted and snarled at her father in Dirzhani.
    â€œSay it in English, please, my dear,” said the President, unperturbed. “You must not cut our guest out of