large number of people. He had learned something of warriors. Parahan had not gained his old scars by wrestling with his favorite hound; he’d gotten them by fighting. Perhaps this emperor was too accustomed to his bowing warriors and slaves. Maybe one day he would learn the hard way that putting a man in shackles didn’t mean he was tame.
The Master of Presentations reached an end to his gabble at last. Rosethorn bowed only as deeply as she had bowed to the God-King. Dedicates of the Living Circle recognized no masters on the earth. Briar bowed deeper. He liked to let powerful folk think he was a nice, respectful boy. Evvy, who was still a proper daughter of the empire, even if she’d left with her family when she was four, went to her knees and touched her forehead to the ground nine times.
“Dedicate Rosethorn.” The emperor’s voice was deep and pleasant, the essence of kindness. His
“We are greatly pleased to welcome you to our court,” the emperor continued. “Your reputation came here long ago, borne by Traders who brought us medicines and plant clippings obtained from you at very great cost and trouble.”
Rosethorn bowed again. “I trust the medicines and plants gave satisfaction, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said.
“They taught us much of your great power,” Weishu replied with a smile. “We hope to honor you by introducing you to our gardens, and hearing your opinion. Any advice you might give us will be a gift we could not hope to repay.”
“I am greatly moved,” Rosethorn said evenly. “I did not believe I would receive such an honor once we had left Gyongxe to come here. The whole world has heard of the imperial gardens.”
“We had not realized you intended to visit the lesser gardens of our realms this summer,” the emperor said. “Have you family or business here?” He glanced at Evvy.
“Business only as any gardeners would conduct when they venture far from home to new lands,” Rosethorn explained. “I had long promised myself a journey east, to see what grows in different climates from my own. I had been forced to put off such travels often. Once
“Certainly we are glad to take advantage of so great a gardener’s visit,” the emperor reassured her. “Let us start our tour tomorrow, then. We must warn you, we begin our day with the rising of the sun.”
And she stays in bed until noon, Briar thought ironically.
“We are accustomed to early risings, temple dwellers and travelers as we have been,” Rosethorn replied as graciously as any courtier.
For someone who hates this stuff, Briar thought with pride, she does it really well.
“We shall send our servants to guide you to us, then,” the emperor told her. “We look forward to speaking with you in a less formal setting.” The emperor had turned his attention to Briar, who bowed and then gazed at the man with his most innocent expression fixed on his face. From Parahan he heard something very much like a smothered snort. “What did you think of the review of our troops this afternoon? Are you now eager to set aside your trowel and watering can for a sword and shield?”
Briar smiled. “If it pleases Your Imperial Majesty, I already get into plenty of trouble with plants. I shake to think of the kind of mischief I would find with conventional weapons.”
“Interesting, to find a youth who does not hanker for battle.” The emperor raised a finger. A servant with a tray appeared from the shadows behind the throne. He knelt, offering the tray to Emperor Weishu. Another servant who had been standing just behind the emperor’s elbow stepped forward and offered him one of the small porcelain cups on the tray. The emperor drained it. As he returned it to the standing servant, he asked Briar, “Are the stories true? You are a full
Briar swallowed a sigh. He’d been asked this question from Emelan to Yanjing and he was heartily bored with it. Slowly he reached into the front of his robes.
There was movement behind the emperor. Four mages stepped up to stand beside the throne on Weishu’s left. Two were men in black scholar’s robes and caps, one a woman in scholar’s robes, and the fourth a
“We must be careful,” the emperor explained. “A
“Understandable, Your Imperial Majesty, but we have not journeyed so far from home and lived by being stupid,” Rosethorn said.
For a moment, Briar knew, their standing hung on the emperor’s sense of humor. Then the man laughed, and everyone in the great chamber relaxed. Except Parahan, Briar noticed. He had never tensed up in the first place.
Briar lifted his medallion free of his robes. On the front of the silvery metal, along the rim, his name and Rosethorn’s were inscribed. At the middle, his magic was symbolized by the image of a tree. On the back was the spiral that meant he had studied at Winding Circle temple.
It was the Mohunite who came down the steps, walking between the throne and Parahan. The captive man tugged his leash hard enough to make it jingle, hinting that he considered tripping the mage. The Mohunite ignored him and stopped before Briar to extend a gloved hand palm up.
Good of him to ask, under the circumstances, Briar thought. He held the medallion out to the length of the silk cord and placed it in the mage’s hold. The Mohunite turned it over in his fingers, saying nothing.
Sometimes Briar wished he’d never gotten the thing. Their teachers had given the medallions to Briar and his three foster-sisters two years ago, before he, Tris, and Daja had set forth on their wanderings. It was rare for mages so young to have them — medallions were the proof that they were accredited mages, able to practice magic without supervision and to teach. The four were forbidden to wear them publicly before they were eighteen, to prevent trouble. At this point, Briar was sure he wasn’t going to wear his openly even at eighteen. Older mages were often furious to see it on him, though Dedicate Initiate Dokyi hadn’t seemed to care. Most mages didn’t receive theirs until they were in their twenties. Briar hated the aggravation.
The Mohunite gently placed the medallion on Briar’s chest, gave him a small bow, and then climbed the dais. He raised his robes slightly to climb the steps. When he reached Parahan’s leash, he placed one foot on it firmly, looking down at the captive.
The big man replied with a wide grin. He placed his palms together and bowed. The Mohunite shook his head slightly and returned to his place beside the other mages.
“Truly impressive,” the emperor said. “I should have expected as much from a student of the great mage Rosethorn.”
Briar bowed, wondering if his spine would start to curve after much more of this. “I will never be what she is, Your Imperial Majesty.”
There was humor in the emperor’s eye as he said, “And modest! Are you certain you are a youth of sixteen years?”
There was a ripple of laughter among the listening courtiers, though no change of expression on the faces of the mages that Briar could see. Briar himself chose to smile — and bow — again. “She has trained me
The emperor chuckled. His court responded with more soft laughter. “She does not seem so terrifying to me,
Briar smiled cheerfully. “She fools a lot of people that way.”
Once more the emperor chuckled and his court followed suit. He did seem truly amused. Briar liked him better for that.
“The messenger who guided you here tells me that one of my former subjects travels with you,” Weishu said. “Evumeimei Dingzai, you may rise and come forward.”
Evvy did as she was told. Briar could see her hair ornaments trembling. He knew it was probably against