“You certainly are,” I said, taking in his wild red eyes amp; uncombed hair. “What’s happened to you, Stukey? Have you seen the doctor?”
“I’ve seen the surgeon’s mate.”
“What, Fulbreech? I know more about illness than that son of a Simjan mule. Go talk to Chadfallow if you’re poorly.”
He shook his head. “Mules have no sons. Nor daughters either.”
“What?”
“And Dr. Chadfallow is an enemy of the Crown.” He pointed with an unsteady finger. “So are you, for that matter.”
“You smell like bad meat, Uskins. Go see him.”
Uskins gave me a derisive smile. “And shout my troubles through the glass for all to hear. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Why are you here?”
The question recalled him to his purpose with a start. “Get up, get dressed! They’re coming aboard!” With those words he clawed his way out of my chamber amp; ran thumping away.
I pulled on my clothes amp; raced after him. Light poured down through the glass planks: it was well past sunrise. I came out topside into a cool crisp wind- amp; saw the city for the first time by daylight. It was even stranger than the night before: huge but empty-feeling; the numbers of people out on the cobble streets too few for so many homes. Some places looked cared for; most did not. Even as I glanced up, a flock of dark birds flowed like spilled ink from an upper window. Another house stood in a tangle of brush that might have once been plantings, but now half covered the door. On its way to becoming a ghost-town, I couldn’t help but think.
All this waste amp; decay, within the splendor of the city wall, the mighty halls amp; temples amp; towers, the river winding its grand path among those statues, the lovely bridges, the farther cliffs amp; waterfalls. And above amp; behind them, huddled giants, the mountains.
But how was I able to see so much? It became obvious the moment I lowered my gaze: we were no longer trapped in the shaft. Some water-gate had been closed in the night; we had risen those last thirty feet, amp; then some. The upper basin was almost full.
We were hemmed in once more by crisscrossed lines: nudged, I supposed, until we floated where they wanted us, which was alongside the bridge-like walkway jutting out into the basin. Our quarterdeck now floated level with the walkway’s rail.
And along that walkway was coming a procession.
It was headed by a small, weird animal. It was probably a goat, but it had tusks instead of horns amp; slobbery lips amp; it minced along like a well-trained dog. Behind it came two drummers, amp; these were even stranger beings: stocky, almost frog-like, nearly as wide as they were tall, with eyes like a bloodhound’s amp; huge fidgeting hands. They wore uniforms of dark red cloth with blue sequins amp; their bare feet flap-flap-flapped along the walkway. Their drums were big, mournful barrels strapped to their chests amp; they beat them very slowly, taking turns. The effect was like the ticking of some dismal clock.
Next came twenty or more dlomu. They were soldier types amp; terrifying to behold: hard of eye amp; huge of build, with murderous halberds, hatchets, spears. They’d seen battle, too: scars, old burns amp; gashes amp; puncture-wounds, marked their faces amp; limbs. Around me the Turachs grew wary amp; still.
In the thick of the soldiers, two figures stood out. The first was Olik, frowning amp; impatient, but dressed now like the prince he was: in a fitted jacket of cream-white leather that stood out smartly against his black skin, a sea-blue cloak, a crimson sash across his chest.
Beside Olik walked an even more extravagant person. Tall amp; pale for a dlomu, he wore a doublet of green leather amp; black iron rings, finished with a gold breastplate emblazoned with the Imperial leopard amp; sun. He was a warrior like the others amp; scarred to prove it. But what a face! His eyes jerked his lips were apart: he looked to be suffering permanent amazement. When he walked his head bobbed up amp; down like a hobby horse’s. The man’s webbed fingers, sparkling with dark purple jewels, caressed an ornate scroll case tied with a golden thread.
Captain Rose was rushing to assemble his officers. Some stood with him already; others, like myself, had to shove through the mob. We were all there: Alyash, Uskins, Byrd, Lapwing, Fegin, Coote, Tanner, even Old Gangrune, looking musty amp; irritable. All of us hurried to Rose’s side. Most of the officers were in dress uniform; I felt the captain’s wrathful eye take in my dishevelment. At hapless Uskins he did not even glance.
We formed a line behind the captain. I saw Pathkendle amp; Undrabust amp; Marila standing nearby, amp; on the other side, quite apart, Lady Thasha, with pretty-boy Fulbreech at her side. Taliktrum was there too, balanced on the gunwale in his feather cloak, a fair swarm of ixchel around him.
The procession reached the end of the walkway, amp; the drumming ceased. For a moment we were on display again. Olik looked at his folded hands, wearing a sly little smile. The pale dlomu just stared at us in shock. But a moment later his eyes narrowed, amp; his mouth tightened to a line. He shouted something, amp; his soldiers drew apart. Quick as you like, the little tusken-faced goat-creature minced forward to the walkway’s edge. It stopped there amp; eyed us expectantly, waggling its ears.
Silence. Rose looked around for guidance. So did the goat. Then Bolutu squeezed through the crowd to Rose’s side. I didn’t catch his words, but the captain’s response was plain enough: “You’re joking!” amp; “I’ll be damned if I will!” amp; finally, “No, amp; no again. You’re barking mad-”
Gasps and hisses from the dlomu. Rose shut his mouth. He stared incredulous at Bolutu, who was still whispering, pleading. At last our captain, looking as though he were about to eat something noxious, stepped forward amp; bowed to the goat-thing.
The creature blinked, pawed the stone. Then it bent its forelegs amp; knelt.
A great sigh went up from the onlookers ashore. One of the guards lifted the animal amp; bore it quickly away.
“Well done,” said the prince, smiling down at us. “Old rites must be respected, friends. The birthig is the city’s liege-animal. When it kneels to visitors, it is granting leave to enter the city. Symbolically, of course.”
Alyash amp; I traded looks. What if it hadn’t blary knelt?
Then the amazed-looking dlomu with the rings stepped forward. No smiles from this bloke. “I am Vadu,” he said, “Commander of the Plazic Battalion of Masalym, amp; First Counselor to His Excellency the Issar. It is with regret that His Excellency does not greet you in person, but he looks forward to receiving you in the Upper City at his first opportunity.”
“That is very good of him,” said Rose. “And we thank His Excellency for his gift of food. Last night my people ate well.”
The dlomu’s head gave one of its bobs. He looked a bit put out, amp; I noticed a sudden unease among the onlookers. They were drawing back, sharing urgent whispers. And all at once I thought to wonder just who had provided our meal.
Vadu held up his scroll case. He gazed at us severely, as if we should know quite well what it contained. Untying the golden thread, he pulled out the parchment amp; held it at arm’s length. One of the drum-wielding creatures waddled over amp; stood at his elbow.
I am used to odd amp; cumbersome ceremonies. The Merchant Service has its share. Anni’s family too, when it comes to prayer cycles amp; whatnot. But none of them could touch the strangeness of the next thirty minutes. Vadu began to read in a flowery dlomic, much less like Arquali than anything we’d heard to date. I’m sure I didn’t catch more than half of it- amp; this despite hearing every word twice. For each time Vadu paused, the drum- bearing creature at his side would inflate his deep chest, tilt his head straight upward, close his eyes amp; belly- scream the words to the edge of the city. We winced. The creature was shockingly loud; he set dogs barking far away up lonely streets.
What I did grasp of the message was this: that the Issar, something like the mayor or lord of Masalym, was deeply honored to preside over the city chosen for a visit by the people of the Magnificent Court of the Lilac (that phrase I’m sure about: it was too weird to get wrong). The Issar considered this “Court” a treasure of the world of Alifros, amp; the arrival of the ship a reason for boundless civic pride. There was a great deal next about the Emperor Nahundra, away in Bali Adro City, amp; his “welcoming embrace” of all people, everywhere. Mixed up with the “welcoming embrace” talk was quite a bit about the Plazic Legions of Bali Adro, which he also called the Dark Flame, amp; how their goodness amp; virtue had made them a fighting force none could stand against.
