“But I had no choice then, Sire,” he protested. “And now I prefer the Emperor's grapes to his fish.”
“Well, I'll have his prawn then,” Althak took it from Sonalish and expertly cracked it open to extract the meat inside. “Mm… delicious, the Emperor’s table never disappoints.”
“If you like fish and the stink of the sea,” muttered Hrangil, but he noticed that everyone else was grinning at his expected reaction, so he smiled and began to eat his grapes.
Sonalish also offered Tenari food but, although she looked back at her, she made no other acknowledgement. Azkun, of course, also did not accept food.
“I can't understand how neither of them eat,” said Drinagish as he picked white meat from a lobster’s tail. “They ought to be dead with hunger by now, or at least thinner. And Azkun can't afford to lose much weight.”
“I can't understand how a woman can hold her tongue,” declared Althak with a sly grin. Vorish laughed but the Anthorians only smiled politely.
“Does she not speak at all?” asked Sonalish.
“Once,” said Keashil. “She said ‘Gilish’ when she greeted Azkun after we had refreshed ourselves from our journey.”
“I think she's improving,” said Drinagish. “Now that she's cleaned up she seems more normal. Her speech will probably return soon. It must have been hell in that chasm.”
“So the Vorthenki believe,” said Vorish.
“Do they? Anyway, she was quite lively yesterday. She even danced for us when Keashil played.”
“She danced?” asked Vorish. ”What kind of dance?”
“It was a bit, well, Vorthenki, I suppose. Not like our dances.”
“She seems to understand what's going on around her,” said Sonalish. “Perhaps she would like to hold little Adhara. Telma, pass her to me.” The child that Telma, one of Sonalish’s attendants, held on her knee was placed in Tenari’s lap and they watched her enfold the little girl affectionately in her arms and coo at her.
“They're all the same,” said Althak. “Even Anthorian women cannot resist children.”
“A little girl,” said Keashil wistfully.
“She has a voice, then,” said Sonalish. “Perhaps she doesn't understand our speech.”
“She doesn't look Vorthenki or Anthorian,” said Menish. “Too short for one and too slight for the other. I suppose she looks more Relanese than anything, but with those eyes and dark hair she must have Anthorian blood in her.”
Vorish looked intently at Tenari for a moment as if searching her face for something more. But he said nothing.
“Will she accompany us to Gashan, Azkun?” asked Althak.
“Of course. Why not?”
“I'm thinking of the difficulty of the journey, and she seems happy enough here. Perhaps we should leave her behind when we leave for Anthor.”
At that Tenari looked up from the child she held and glared at Althak. She grasped Azkun’s arm and in doing so released her grip on little Adhara, who rolled onto the cushions beside her and began to cry. Keashil rescued the child, finding her unerringly and lifting her into her arms.
“May I?”
“Of course,” said Sonalish.
“Well, that proves she understands us,” said Drinagish nodding towards Tenari.
“It also makes her wishes clear,” said Althak. He shrugged. “It's no extra food, anyway.”
“What is that?” asked Azkun suddenly. A dark brown animal padded silently into the room, its coat immaculately groomed and a jewelled collar around its neck. It made straight for the platter of food and was about to help itself when Telma swatted it away.
“This? This is Sura. Have you not seen one before? They breed them in the south.”
“He's not seen a cat before, of any kind,” said Althak.
“Oh, well, you'll like this one,” said Telma. “He loves people.” She picked the cat up and placed it on Azkun’s lap. It purred loudly and snuggled against him. Its fur coat was silky to his touch.
Azkun was confused by it. The cat obviously adored him, but he could feel a wildness barely below the surface of its mind, a predatory nature that was more vicious than anything he had seen before. How could an animal so savage be so adoring? The cat made him think of Vorish. Vorish was savage, yet Althak had said he was just. He was concerned about Gashan because of all the bloodshed the war would bring. He wanted to avoid that, even if that meant he had to kill. Was this cat like that? He did not know and he suspected he only half understood both Vorish and the cat.
They passed on to less serious matters. Menish told them of an incident in the last spring games when two chiefs had kept up a wrestling bout for a day and a night before Menish declared a draw. It was not a popular decision, many had bets placed on the contestants and there was still argument as to what the outcome would have been. Even Adhara still speculated on that. Menish knew she had wagered some of her camels on the fight.
They had decided to set off for Anthor the next day and were to make use of Vorish’s courier horses to give them extra speed. Vorish had restored the old Relanese system of placing way stations every few miles along the major routes with fresh horses. An imperial courier could cover between two and three hundred miles a day, but it was a somewhat arduous method of travel.
Because they were leaving before dawn they retired early. This time Azkun slept in the guest apartments and not in a damp cell.
Chapter 18: The Keeper of the Flame
Althak thumped on Azkun’s door until he emerged, bleary eyed. Vorish had provided some travelling clothes for him that fitted better than the ones he had borrowed from Althak. They included a strong, leather jerkin and a short sword. He queried the sword but Althak told him he only had to wear it, not use it. Everyone wore a sword in Anthor. He strapped it around his waist next to Omoth’s jewelled knife. Althak also gave him a bag in which to pack his court clothes. But they travelled light like the couriers, taking no food and only essential clothing with them.
It was still dark and Azkun could not stop yawning. Servants led them through the corridors to waiting horses. There they were met by Vorish who embraced Menish.
“I've been reading the Gash-Tal over again,” Azkun heard him say. He did not look as though he was newly wakened. “Menish, you are not to accompany the expedition to Gashan. I forbid it.”
Menish said nothing to commit himself either way, and Vorish’s expression hardened into annoyance.
“You've been warned then. I can't do more.”
They mounted their horses and clattered across the cobblestones, through the great archways and out into the city streets. The horses were lean beasts, built for speed rather than strength. Azkun could feel his horse's excitement at setting off. It wanted to run.
There were few people about, some stall keepers setting up early and a bakery alight with lamps and full of activity. They passed mounted guards, for Vorish had the streets patrolled at night.
The north gate of the city was lit with many lamps and in their light the shields and armour of the guards were visible. Several stood on watch up on the walls, others manned the gate and a large group huddled around a glowing brazier that kept away the night chill.
As they drew near they were challenged. Althak presented the metal disk that functioned as an Imperial pass and the gates were opened enough for them to pass through single file.
The city ended abruptly with the walls and, when the gate boomed shut behind them, Azkun found himself on the wide plains he had seen from the boat. They spread out in every direction under the starry sky that, in the east, was glowing grey with dawn. The road ran straight as an arrow to the north east, reflected dimly in the starlight. To Azkun it looked magical, as if it rose before them like a stairway to the sky.
While he was still dreaming these thoughts Menish kicked his horse into a gallop.
“Anthor!” he cried. “Home to Anthor!” a shout of joy burst from Althak and Drinagish. Young Olcish, caught in
