Emperor Mage

Kitten, bored with the conversation, voiced a whistle-croak. The gems on the emperor’s fingers blazed with light.

‘Amazing!’ he cried, delighted. ‘Has she always been able to do that?’

‘No, sir. She learned a year ago, from a basilisk. She learns things fast.’

‘Then she is blessed, as we are blessed to look upon her.’ He nodded a dismissal, and Daine stepped back to join the others.

Introductions over, the emperor said, ‘To you, representatives of our royal cousins Jonathan and Thayet, we say, welcome to Carthak. We pray that peace will reign between our lands and know that with such a distinguished company to smooth the way, peace is all but assured. And now, there is food outside, and drink, music, and good company. In your time among us, we have arranged for entertainment that we hope will arouse wonder and interest in our empire. Enjoy all these things, please. If you desire anything, only voice it to our servants. Within reason it shall be granted you.’

Dismissed from the imperial presence, the Tortallans bowed as they backed up, until they were outside again. Once they had left the area closest to the door of the audience chamber, a gong sounded and a grinding noise filled the air. Everyone, guests and servants, froze in place. Slowly the walls that cut the audience chamber off from the antechamber sank into the floor. Now the emperor’s dais commanded a view of the combined rooms. Everyone bowed or curtsied deeply to the golden man on the golden throne. He waved a hand; talk and movement picked up where they’d left off. A slave knelt beside the throne, offering a bowl of fruit. The emperor selected a fig, and nibbled it.

Daine felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Luckily niches in the walls held couches, with brightly coloured pillows to cushion those who wished to sit. She nearly fell into the closest one. Zek squeaked and left his place of concealment to climb into her lap. Duke Gareth and Numair sat beside her, and the remaining Tortallans gathered around.

‘Are you all right?’ Numair asked softly, cupping her cheek with one large hand. ‘I had forgotten how intimidating he can be when he has all his imperialness on.’

The girl looked at the gilded figure on the dais. ‘I noticed. Are you all right? Did he say anything to you?’

He smiled. ‘No. If I’m lucky, he’ll ignore me for the rest of our stay. That’s how he always managed such things when we were boys, anyway. If someone bested him at anything, he just pretended that person didn’t exist. He got to be very good at it.’

Duke Gareth remarked, ‘It went quite well. You did us credit, Daine.’

The girl blushed and smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’

Gareth the Younger and Harailt, who had quietly left them, returned with servants bearing trays of cups. ‘Fruit juices,’ the mage said as his companions helped themselves.

‘So far, so good.’ Lindhall had come with the servants. ‘Numair, did he speak to you?’

‘He didn’t even look at me. He spoke the most with Daine.’

‘But what about his birds?’ the girl asked, confused. ‘I came all this way to see them, and he didn’t mention them at all.’

‘Rulers don’t act as other men,’ Duke Gareth told her. ‘All requirements of protocol must be met before personal considerations may intrude. You must be patient until he sends for you.’

‘But more of them might get sick then,’ she muttered. Numair looked at her and put a finger to his lips. Daine sighed, but obeyed the command to be quiet.

‘Arram,’ said a female voice. Everyone looked around. A blue-eyed blonde in an open mage’s robe of cream-coloured silk approached, hands out. Her pretty face was artfully coloured with the contents of pots like those that were on Daine’s dressing-room table. Under the robe was a northern-style dress of rose-petal pink, cut to accent a narrow waist and a richly curved figure. Daine, thinking of her own modest curves, sighed with envy.

Numair rose, a stunned look on his face. Alanna slid into the place he’d just left.

‘Varice?’

‘The same old Varice Kingsford,’ the newcomer replied, smiling. ‘I’m surprised you remember me.’

Numair kissed first one of her offered hands, then the other, and continued to hold both. ‘How could I forget you, my dear? You’re lovelier than I remember. You must tell me everything I’ve missed. What changes are in the palace, and at the university? Are you married; may I kill your husband—’ Laughing, Varice drew Numair through the crowd, leading him to a niche across the room, where they sat down.

‘Is that who I think it is?’ Alanna directed the question to Lindhall, who had come to lean against the wall beside the Lioness and Daine.

‘She was his lover before he fled the country,’ the older mage replied. ‘Apparently there were no hard feelings.’

Daine frowned. ‘Why didn’t she go with him?’

‘He didn’t ask, and evidently she didn’t offer,’ said Lindhall. ‘But she never married, either, and she’s had a few serious proposals.’

One by one, Ozorne’s ministers came to speak with various Tortallans and to introduce them to Carthakis. Mages came for Harailt. Lord Martin and both Gareths were led away by the minister who’d stood closest to the emperor in the audience chamber. Even Alanna, who was uncomfortable in social situations, was deep in talk with a general in the crimson kilt and gold-washed armour of the Imperial Guard, better known as the Red Legion.

Lindhall beckoned to a slave with a tray of fruit. ‘Your small friend will like grapes,’ he told Daine, pointing to Zek. ‘You may also.’ He put a bowl of grapes and plums beside her. Zek devoured the grapes, while Kitten selected a plum.

‘What does she do here? Lady Varice?’ Daine asked.

‘She is Ozorne’s official hostess,’ Lindhall replied, his voice neutral. ‘Her magic allows her to specialize in things such as entertainment and cookery.’ He frowned. ‘I hope Arram – Numair – realizes that Varice is now completely devoted to imperial interests.’

Daine looked up at him and realized that here was someone who genuinely cared about her lanky friend. ‘You’ve missed him, haven’t you, sir?’

Lindhall smiled. ‘I never had another student whose interests so closely matched my own, and when he was no longer my student, we became friends. It’s good to see him now, though I am apprehensive. The emperor never forgives. I doubt that he would imperil the peace talks to settle his score with Numair, but I cannot feel easy in my mind about his reasons for issuing that pardon.’

Daine looked down, fighting the urge to tell this man of her own worries and the badger’s ominous warning. She knew it was a bad idea, however nice Lindhall seemed, but she needed to tell someone. If only she could get Numair or Alanna somewhere they couldn’t be overheard! She didn’t want to tell Duke Gareth or any of the others. They didn’t know her like Alanna and Numair did, nor did they know about the badger.

‘Master Lindhall, could we have a word?’ someone called.

Lindhall sighed. ‘You’ll be all right here?’ he asked Daine.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, smiling. ‘I’m not going to budge.’

Lindhall looked at the crowds before them. ‘Probably that’s just as well. I promise, when we get the chance, I would like to have a good, long chat about wildlife.’

‘Master Lindhall, the emperor’s birds—’

The mage smiled, pale eyes sympathetic. ‘The emperor will explain, in his own time. That is how things are done here.’

She watched him thread his way through the crowd, and shuddered at the thought of meeting so many strangers. Zek gravely offered her a grape; she accepted, with thanks. Looking around, she wished her pony, Cloud, were here. It had made sense to leave her at home, but now Daine longed for Cloud’s horse sense and tart opinions. She felt lost among so many adults and such magnificent surroundings. The rulers of Tortall didn’t have the kind of wealth, or surplus of mages, to create rooms like this for their palace.

Suddenly Kitten began to trill, producing sounds that rose and fell like music. At intervals she uttered a chk! sound. Each time she did so, the girl could see a man-sized distortion in the air to her left where Kitten stared intently.

‘She sees you,’ the girl told the distorted spot. ‘It’s the first thing student mages at the royal university try – the invisibility trick. It doesn’t work with her. You do it well, the best I’ve ever seen, but if you don’t show yourself now, she’ll bite. She really dislikes invisibility-spells.’

The air rippled: there stood the Emperor Mage. ‘I trust she won’t bite me,’ he said in a mild voice. ‘I would hate to bleed on this robe.’

Daine’s jaw dropped; she turned to look at the throne. He sat there, too, a figure identical to the one beside her. ‘Simulacrum,’ he explained. ‘A living puppet. I’m uncomfortable at state occasions. They really don’t want me in attendance, just something to awe the empire’s guests. I mastered the art of magical copies so that I might be able to move around. May I sit down?’

‘It’s your couch,’ she replied. For a moment she had spoken to him as she might have to King Jonathan or Queen Thayet, monarchs who insisted on informality. Belatedly remembering her instructions on proper behaviour with the emperor, she said, ‘I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty. I should bow, or stand, but I’d upset Zek and the fruit and all.’

‘Then let us not upset Zek,’ said Ozorne, looking at the marmoset in Daine’s lap. ‘He is the creature you dived so impetuously into the river to save?’ The girl blushed and nodded. A smile tugged the emperor’s lips. ‘It was a kind deed. We need more of them.’

Embarrassed, Daine changed the subject. ‘About the copies of you – can’t the mages tell it’s only sorcery?’

Ozorne snapped his fingers, and a shimmering curtain of light enveloped the dais, hiding the other emperor from sight. ‘No. I am very good at them. Practice, you see – plenty of state occasions that require the emperor’s image, not the man. I tried to teach your master, the former Arram Draper, how to make them, but he was never as adept as I am.’

She ignored the jibe about Numair. ‘Can it do magic or look like it has magic? The sim—’