He had taken complete charge of Evvy in Gyongxe, when it was such a struggle for her to breathe. Rosethorn had tried to thank him for it once. He had only kissed her on the forehead and told her not to be silly. It made her feel both grateful and weak, and she hated to feel weak. Only the knowledge that he was her boy, and they had passed beyond what was owed to whom years ago, kept her from hating herself and him. She needed to find her strength again, but this place, with its crushing weight of imperial authority, was starting to seem an unlikely place for her to heal.
Briar reached over with his eating sticks and plucked a slice of roast goose from her plate. The maids gasped and giggled behind their hands. Rosethorn frowned at him. “It’s bad manners to leave this wonderfully cooked food on the plate, and you’re toying with it,” Briar retorted, his mouth full. He reached with his sticks again.
This time Rosethorn snatched her plate away and began to eat. “And don’t you give yourself airs,” she warned when she had finished.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Briar assured her. “I want to live to get home.”
The waiting-women came forward, bowing and looking anxious. Parahan rose to his feet in a single athletic movement. Rosethorn almost sighed aloud and stopped herself in time. She was no schoolgirl to moon over a handsome man, she told herself. She was just envious because the days when she did not have to first get to her knees, then straighten first one leg, then the other, in order to stand, were long over. Yes, that was it.
“These pretty ladies are telling us that they will get into trouble if they do not have you dressed and to the palanquins soon. As will I,” Parahan said. Of course he was totally unaware of Rosethorn’s interesting thoughts.
“Then let us get clothed,” Rosethorn said, rising to her feet as gracefully as she could. Once she was on them, she could not resist. She stopped, and smiled at Briar and Evvy. “Of course, I
Ignoring Evvy’s wails, she walked into the airy, luxurious room that was hers for their stay.
Parahan had not been joking. The Hall of Imperial Greetings was a work of art in itself. The chained man led them down a long hallway where the walls and ceiling were lacquered bright yellow. Ornately carved ebony benches were placed along one side of the corridor so nobles could sit, chatter, and be waited on and fanned by serving women and eunuchs. All of them watched their small group go by, their faces emotionless.
They reached the middle third of the hall. On one side large paintings in the Yanjingyi style attracted admirers. They showed lush, beautiful scenes of palace life, gardens, and mountains. These had attracted groups of viewers who discussed them with soft voices. On the other side of the broad corridor, placed under windows cut high in the wall, hung large gold cages. Their purpose was made clear by their size and the ceramic chamber pot on the bottom. There was no screen for privacy, no blanket for warmth. If the absent prisoners were given food and water, the evidence was cleared away. The empty cages swung a little in the thin breezes from the windows and hallway.
“That one is mine,” Parahan said, pointing to the last one in the line. “Usually the guides tell guests I am a chieftain from a savage kingdom among the Realms of the Sun. The emperor keeps me here when he has nothing for me to do, or if he wishes to point me out as an example to one of his nobles or generals.”
Evvy looked at the cage, then at Parahan, with horror. “That’s all the room you have?”
Parahan twined and untwined the chains around his wrists. “It’s better than some of the other places he stows his captives. He put me in a couple of those at first.”
They had reached a huge round opening framed in teak. Beyond it stood a partial wall that was covered in rough gold silk and embroidered with two-horned, winged lions. A eunuch, his face painted white, his long black hair left to stream down his back, waited there for them. His eyes had been lined all around with black paint. He was gloriously robed in bright turquoise blue, red, and palest yellow.
Parahan bowed to the eunuch. “Master of Presentations, I bring you these most honored guests of the imperial lord of us all.” Carefully he introduced each of them in order of their age and expertise in magic, beginning with Rosethorn. He then introduced the eunuch as the Master of Presentations to the emperor, first among the imperial eunuchs. When he was done, Parahan told them, “And that’s my part. You’ll see me again. Don’t worry. The Master of Presentations will look after you well.” He grinned cheerfully at all of them, and then walked off, his chains jingling.
Evvy wanted to whimper. Losing Parahan felt like losing a particularly warm and comforting blanket. She didn’t whimper, though, not here, not in front of this proud-looking old man who wore more eye makeup than she and Rosethorn put together.
The Master of Presentations looked each of them over as if he expected their clothes to have stains or rips in them. Then he sniffed. “I trust the ladies of your pavilion explained what you are to do when you are presented?” He had a high, fluting voice.
“Of course they did,” Rosethorn told him. Her bearing was suddenly as haughty as that of any noblewoman. “As did the prince. Do you mean to delay us further?”
I will be her when I grow up, Evvy thought joyfully as the eunuch flinched and minced his way past them, through the round opening. I know I will have to work hard at it, but I want to be just like her.
They followed the Master of Presentations around the end of the golden wall. Before them spread a broad, rectangular room, far more splendid than anything they had seen until now. Huge porcelain jars filled with live flowers perfumed the chamber with their scent. The roof was held up by thick pillars in precious woods, all painted with bright red enamel. Their ornate, fish-carved bases and capitals were covered in gold leaf. Overhead, paintings of gods and goddesses at play or doing war-like things among dragons, lions, and other creatures decorated a deep blue ceiling that was otherwise starred in gold leaf. Ornate gold lanterns hung from the tops of the columns to give light. On a dais at one side of the room musicians played the instruments of the empire, including drums, flutes, a lute-like thing called a
The courtiers who swarmed through the room parted in front of the Master of Presentations, bowing slightly as he went past. He was bound for a gilded raised platform at the heart of the chamber. Briar fixed his eyes on their host. Like them, he had changed clothes from the yellow robes of the afternoon.
Emperor Weishu Maorin Guangong Zhian of the Long Dynasty was fifty years old. It showed only in the bits of gray at his temples and the startling splash of gray in the beard trimmed close to his chin. His mustache was as black as the rest of his hair. His eyes were the dark brown of Yanjing, his skin the bronze of a Yanjing warrior who spent plenty of time in the sun. He had broad cheekbones and a long nose. Horse nomad blood in the family, thought Briar, but his mother was a concubine and a captive, wasn’t she? So maybe she was a horse nomad.
Weishu’s robe sported gold embroideries thickly clustered over bright yellow silk. It fastened at the neck and shoulder with more gold silk frogs. He rested his feet, modestly covered with plain black slippers, on a stool. He held a folded blue fan in his lap, though two servants stood on either side of him, wielding much larger, feathered fans to keep him cool. His head was covered with an intricately folded stiffened black silk cap.
“Behold the mighty emperor, sixth of his dynasty, beloved of all the gods,” the Master of Presentations began as he came to a halt before the dais. Their small group stopped behind him. This was part of their introduction. The eunuch would list all of the emperor’s titles, which would take a little while.
Briar looked briefly to the right of the throne. There Parahan knelt at the foot of the dais. He had been given an addition to his wardrobe, and not one that Briar liked. One more chain was fastened to the big man’s gold collar. It led to the throne and looped around the emperor’s left wrist. Briar looked down before anyone saw the fury in his eyes. He was surprised to find that he had developed a liking for Parahan. He thought it was cruel to treat him like an untamed beast. In the two years that he, Rosethorn, and Evvy had traveled east, Briar had met a
