Emperor Mage

Baffled, Daine looked around. The old servant was gone, feather duster and all. ‘She was just here a moment ago – you must have passed her.’ She grabbed the door, holding it so that the kneeling slave would have no glimpse of the tiger behind it. ‘She was cleaning in here.’

The slave looked up. ‘The care of your room is this unworthy one’s task, Nobility,’ she said, clearly frightened. ‘It was done some time ago, shortly after the Nobilities from the north went with the prince and Lady Varice.’

Daine thought fast. The old slave must have fled in that moment when the light blazed. No doubt she’d been frightened out of her wits; Daine knew her own knees were decidedly weak. She had to calm down, because now she was scaring this poor girl as well. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, attempting a smile. ‘I – I must have been napping, and had a – a dream or something. I—’

She looked behind the door. The tiger skin lay on the marble tiles, all four paws tucked underneath, tail curled around its chest. The head rested on the floor, eyes closed. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn the thing looked smug – except, of course, that dead animal skins couldn’t manage that kind of expression.

‘Would you do me a favour?’ She closed the door so that the slave could see the tiger skin. ‘This – rug. It’s very – upsetting, to have it here. Will you take it away? Far away?’

From the look on her face as she rose, the slave was used to odd requests. ‘Yes, Nobility.’ The rug offered her no more resistance than a blanket might have done. With a last bow, she left.

Trembling, Daine said, ‘Thank you,’ and started to close the door.

‘Daine?’ Alanna was in the central room outside, dressed for the opening of the peace negotiations. ‘You’d best hurry or we’ll be late for the banquet.’

Daine winced and shut the door. Between talking to the old slave, having the rug come to life on her, and handling the young slave, she had forgotten she had to clean up and change again. ‘I don’t know how much more excitement I can take,’ she told Zek and Kitten as she stripped off her tunic and shirt. ‘To think the king thought I might get bored while I was here!’

The opening banquet started at noon, a feast of the light, cool foods preferred in warmer lands for daytime. From the talk around Daine, such meals were Varice Kingsford’s special pride. It was the kind of thing that had foreigners from all over the Eastern and Southern Lands singing the praises of the emperor’s table. The girl surveyed the bewildering variety of choices and let Zek help her choose. The marmoset was an expert on plant foods, at least.

Varice was everywhere, seeing to the comfort of the Tortallan delegation and the foreign ambassadors to Carthak who had been invited to observe the talks on behalf of their rulers. With so many lords to attend to, she didn’t appear to notice that Numair barely touched his food.

Daine noticed, and felt sorry for her tall friend. Varice had filled his plate herself, heaping it with delicacies like eel pastry, elephant-ear soup, and snake medallions in black bean and wine sauce. It was the worst thing she could have done. Numair’s body did not always travel well, particularly not after a sea or river voyage. Usually he spent several days in a new place eating mild, simple foods – the only things he could keep down. He nodded and gave polite thanks when she stopped to ask how he did, but Daine could see a tinge of green around his lips.

Luckily the dogs and cats who served as palace mouse and rat catchers were everywhere, even here in the banquet hall. Daine silently asked two dogs for help. When a paw on the mage’s knee caused Numair to look down, he saw them at his feet, willing to be fed. The look he gave Daine was filled with gratitude. She didn’t see the costly food leave his plate, but she didn’t expect to: Numair’s hobby was sleight of hand. The dogs she heard clearly. They were delighted with their feast.

At last the emperor led them to the room where the talks would be held. Tables and chairs had been placed in a loose square, and unshuttered windows allowed breezes and garden scents to pass through. The Tortallans, the foreign ambassadors, and the Carthaki ministers were given seats, their places marked with nameplates of gold inlaid with silver. Jugs of water, juice, and herbal teas were at all the tables. Carthaki scribes sat cross-legged against one wall, ready to take notes, while the Tortallan scribes had their own table, directly behind Duke Gareth’s seat. Those who would not take part, such as Lindhall Reed and lesser nobles and officials, sat in chairs behind the delegations. Daine sat at the end of her table, uncomfortable even there. Kitten had a stool to perch on, beside the girl; Zek hid in his usual place under Daine’s hair.

Ozorne rose to speak, dressed in a blindingly white robe and green shoulder wrap. His hair, ungilded today, proved to be reddish brown, though it was still in many fine braids, each tipped with a gold filigree bead. Black paint lined his amber eyes back to his temples. He glittered with gems.

‘We bid you welcome, representatives of our eminent cousin, King Jonathan of Tortall, and of his queen, Thayet the Peerless, and of our fellow monarchs and neighbours.’ His voice filled the room. ‘This day has been too long in coming. At last we are met in a spirit of mutual aid and support for our lands, so long at odds. Villains conspired to bring us to the brink of war, but wisdom and vigilance have kept us from stepping over. All our hearts desire only peace.

‘Without our knowledge and consent, evil men contrived four years ago to steal arcane learning secretly held for centuries. With this ill-gained knowledge, they reversed what the writers of those spells had dedicated their lives to achieve, the banning from our human, mortal existence those creatures loosely called immortals, the semidivine beings who may live forever unless accident or force brings their life spans to a halt.

‘To our sorrow, our person and our university were blamed for this dreadful misuse of power. Our cousins of Tortall, sore beset by immortals and by those who prey on a land open to attack, felt we were to blame, and who could contest it? Loving freedom and commerce, we kept too little watch on our library, on our shipwrights, on those who hired men and paid them in Carthaki gold. To our shame and sorrow, our lack of awareness caused our Tortallan cousins to think we condoned the behaviour of pirates, bandits, and rogues. Let us now set the matter straight. Let us strive together for peace between our peoples, and put aside all past misunderstandings.

‘May the gods bless our endeavours, and may they foster the peace for which we all long.’ Clasping his hands together, he touched them to his forehead in a kind of salute, and sat down.

Duke Gareth rose to make his reply, reading from a letter written to Ozorne and his ministers by King Jonathan. Daine hid a yawn under one hand. She might have found the letter more interesting if she had not heard discussion about its contents on the voyage to Carthak. Instead her mind kept skipping away from Duke Gareth’s voice, returning to the tiger-skin rug, or to the badger’s visit, over and over. She had mentioned the need to talk to Numair and Alanna on their way to the noon banquet, but she knew it might be some time before they could get the chance to safely hear what she had to say. As the emperor’s guests, most of their time away from the talks would be taken up with entertainments and activities. Both had promised to do what they could, and Daine had to be content with that.