strike against Yaskatha, the same will be true.”
“Majesty,” spoke Andoses, blinking bloodshot eyes, “we all know the King is an honorable and righteous leader, as were his fathers before him. We value treaties and diplomacy as highly as any kingdom. Yet when Elhathym murdered the father of Prince D’zan and claimed the throne through blood and terror, he invalidated any treaties made by the rightful king of Yaskatha. In order to restore that treaty which has kept your nation free and powerful for so long, you must act against this usurper and restore Trimesqua’s rightful heir to his throne.”
Sharadza listened. Andoses, the eternal diplomat, had spoken well.
“But the treaty remains in effect,” said Queen Umbrala, “as long as the usurper has not violated our borders or otherwise disrupted our peace.”
“How long will that be, Majesty?” asked Tyro. Sunlight streamed through a high casement and flashed upon his green-and-gold mail shirt. “Even now he plots against you with the Bitch of Khyrei at his elbow. Their sorcery is foul, and it grows in silence like a plague. I implore you not to wait for the strike that is destined to come, for it may be a fatal blow.”
The Boy-King’s white eyes shifted from speaker to speaker. He was clever this boy, clever enough to hear what everyone had to say before he would speak. Including his wise mother.
Khama spoke now. “I hke peaave looked southward, into the shadow of what grows there – it is something terrible. Something from the Outer Worlds… Evil spirits are afoot in the night. Regardless of your decision regarding the alliance, Majesties, I ask permission to go south and confront this Elhathym. Iardu the Shaper and his protegee will accompany me. We will face the usurper before his own throne. It is our dearest hope to avoid the coming of war, whatever the cost. I give my family over to your shelter so that I may do this thing. War is the Great Destroyer that has been banished from our land for generations. It cannot be allowed to return.”
The Queen Mother spoke in whispers with her son, while those about the table sat mute. Iardu helped himself to the wine; Lyrilan dropped a fat grape into his mouth.
“The King gives you his blessing, Khama,” said Umbrala. “You are not an official servant of the court, therefore you may confront the usurper without any stain upon our honor. If you can do good in Yaskatha, then go.”
Khama turned to Iardu. The pair nodded.
“Yet linger a little while,” said Umbrala. “At the least you must dine with us tonight.”
Khama bowed his head. “We are most honored.”
Andoses spoke again. “Majesties, I beg you to hear the words of brave Prince D’zan. He has faced death and more to sit at this table.”
All eyes fell to D’zan, who sat uncomfortably in his chair. Sharadza liked him instantly. His eyes were blue, like Vireon’s, and his face was fair. His broad shoulders were impressive for a youth. His broad mouth was expressive, the lips of a well-spoken Prince. She found herself curious to hear what he had to say.
“I am… overwhelmed,” said D’zan, “by the support of my friends and allies in the north. We have crossed seas and mountains together… endured ice and fire… faced the horrors of sorcery and the fangs of awful beasts. We have walked with death at our very backs, and many have perished on our journey. That I live at all is a miracle I owe to these four Princes.” His eyes turned to the Boy-King. “My father cherished the long peace he held with Mumbaza, as did his father before him. He once spoke of it as the brightest jewel in his crown. There were other wars, campaigns against the southern island nations, the war with Khyrei that happened well before I was born. But never did he speak of Mumbaza with anything other than love and great respect.
“I understand why you could not offer me sanctuary months ago. I bear no ill will toward you for that decision. When the throne of my father is once again mine, I will keep Mumbaza in my heart, along with the Northern Nations. A great philosopher once said, ‘War is failure.’ I believe that, Majesties. War is a failure of diplomacy and compassion to conquer fear and hate. It is the failure of peace-loving peoples to act in prevention of threats that grow in the world’s dark places.
“I pledge to you now that as long as I sit on the Throne of Yaskatha, there will be only peace between the five nations gathered here. Should Mumbaza refuse to join me against the usurper, that pledge of peace will still stand, both from myself and my descendants. But until Elhathym is deposed… until his blasphemous power is hidden from the Sun God’s eyeshe Sun Goeyer what until that day… the specter of War hangs over this kingdom like a shroud. I speak from my heart, and for the free people of Yaskatha.”
A silence fell upon the chamber. Sharadza turned to Iardu, whose smooth face was inscrutable. Vireon nodded his head in blatant approval of D’zan’s words. She could tell he favored the young Prince. Andoses sat with a half-smile, his eyes on the Boy-King. Tyro’s face was stone. Lyrilan ate another grape, mentally noting all the proceedings in the scholar’s detached way that was his nature. Alua sat with an expression of purest innocence next to Vireon. She looked entirely out of place here, yet completely comfortable in the presence of her lover.
“Your words are moving,” said Queen Umbrala, “and the King values your friendship. Our goals are the same – eternal peace and prosperity for Mumbaza and all other nations – yet for now we can only send Wise Khama to Yaskatha… to do any more would violate that very peace of which you speak.”
Iardu sighed. D’zan looked at the table.
“Have you any word of good will from this usurper?” asked Andoses. “Any renewal of the treaty’s precepts, or even the smallest tribute to show his fidelity?”
“We have received no word from Elhathym,” said the Queen Mother.
“Have you sent emissaries to him?” asked Tyro.
“One,” she admitted. “He has yet to return.”
“So you have nothing but silence from this bloody-handed sorcerer,” said Andoses. “And you take that for peaceful intentions? Majesties, this is a gross error. The scorpion is most silent before it kills.”
“Silence can also heal,” said the Boy-King. All eyes turned now to his small round head with its glittering crown. “The Queen has spoken for me, and now I echo her words. We will not join this Alliance against Yaskatha unless Elhathym moves against us. Neither will we condemn or reject your offer. We will be wise and patient instead. We will wait… and we will see.”
“As you wish, Majesty,” said Andoses with an air of exhaustion. “I must be gone with all speed in the morning. The throne of Shar Dni sits empty until I am crowned. I regret that I cannot stay longer and attempt to sway your royal wisdom. The war against Khyrei will proceed. I hope that you will change your mind and join us before the coming of spring, when we march upon the city of Ianthe the Claw.”
“I go with you, Andoses,” said Vireon. “I have fulfilled my mother’s wish in coming to Mumbaza. Now vengeance calls me eastward, and I would bring you safely home, Cousin.”
Andoses stood and bowed. “I could never be safer than in your company, Vireon.”
“In the morning you three go east while we three go south,” said Khama. “What of the rest of you?”
Tyro and Lyrilan looked to D’zan.
“The time has also come for me to return to my homeland,” said D’zan. “I go south.”
Tyro slammed his fist against the table. “My brother and I go with you, Prince! We have a cohort of a hundred and fifty northmen to ride with us.”
“Take my hundred Sharrians as well,” said Andoses. “Vireon, Alua, and I require no escort. A group of three will travel much faster atop the Earth-Wall than a host of men.”
“So be it,” said Tyro.
“So be it,” said the Boy-King. “Now let us forget the perils of war and travel. We will feast tonight in honor of these assembled families before the sun shines on their parting.” His mother looked pleased at his fine words.
Sharadza would have preferred to leave immediately for Yaskatha. But Khama relished one more night with his family. No harm in some rest now, she decided. We will need all our strength when we face the tyrant sorcerer.
Already she smelled the roasting meats and sweet baked confections that would line the Boy-King’s table.
A night in Mumbaza. She looked out an arched window at the crimson glow of sunset on the purple ocean. It’s like some tale of heroes and maidens… some exotic legend from pages in father’s library . Yet it was all too real. Tonight will be splendor, tomorrow will be danger.
She resolved to enjoy the splendors of Mumbaza while she could.
The feast ran late into the night, and Sharadza drank more than her share of wine. She drank with Andoses and Vireon, the first time she had done so. The Boy-King’s table was covered with delicacies from the sea, great
