to another. But there are basics on which men of goodwill may agree. The women had found them, it seemed. Of the various secret societies of Vallia none had asked me to join up. I had felt vast relief at this, for I had taken a firm vow to join none, assuming that the others would regard me as an enemy or, at the best, cold toward them. As the Prince Majister I had to remain aloof, if I could. So do not think I organized the new order out of pique. If they don’t want me to join I’ll start my own club — no. That was not the case. This I believe. I had heard of no order in Vallia that sought to do what I sought. .
As a starting point the Black Feathers of the Great Chyyan would serve. Balass reported back that the drunk — muttering darkly that when the Black Day dawned the Black Feathers would tear down the koters of Vallia and take all their goods — was a newly arrived trader, due to return to Xuntal. Balass looked worried. Perhaps Xuntal was already infected? I said, “I think not. If it is Hamal behind this, then their quarrel is with Vallia. If it is Phu-Si- Yantong, then-”
“Then,” said Balass, very grimly, “it is very possible.”
I could not argue. Yantong sought his maniacal ambition’s culmination in the domination of all Paz. The man was mad. Anyone who wanted to take on trying to rule these wayward folk must be mad. I’d had a bellyful, I knew, of just a very few of them.
“The ship he traveled in,” I said,
Balass nodded. “I will ask.”
Again I said nothing to indicate that Balass should have already asked. He was a hyr-kaidur, used to the arena; spying would have to be taught him.
So my days passed, gathering scraps of information, working at being Prince Majister, organizing the new order. Among the many pantheons of Kregen there is a plethora of minor godlings and spirits. One minor spirit of deviltry had, with assistance from others of his ilk, plagued me in Djanduin. I had allowed the miasmic presence of Khokkak the Meddler to influence me out of boredom and screaming helpless frustration to make myself King of Djanduin. Although, as I say, I do not think Sly the Ambitious or Gleen the Envious had a hand, there were undoubted traces of Hoko the Amusingly Malicious and Yurncra the Mischievous. These devils plague a man. There was no time during that period in Vondium without Delia for them to gain a lodgment in my thick old vosk skull. I was just too busy. One very good reason for my adopting the disguise of Nath the Gnat was to escape unpleasantness from those who sought to oust me. There were more than just the racters. Although Rafik Avandil had said,
“You have come up in the world, dom, since first we met,” and I had replied casually that I’d come into money, he provided me with a useful cloak. As Nath the Gnat I could wander freely in the city and mingle with all kinds of people in the taverns. By doing this I know I escaped many an unwanted brawl or duel. And I was learning.
So the day dawned in Opaz-brilliance when the emperor would return to Vondium. He would arrive in his imposing procession of narrow boats, drawn along the canals and through the water gate into the city. On that day I had to dress myself up and be the Prince Majister, and go down to the canal to welcome him.
Among a glittering group of high nobles and koters, all of whom — or nearly all — hated my guts, I stood, glittering in the suns-shine, watching as the haulers guided the emperor’s narrow state boat into the jetty. When all was ready and the trumpets pealed and the guard snapped to attention, he stepped ashore onto the crimson carpet. There was, as usual, a little undignified shoving to get forward — and to hell with protocol! I hung back, my left hand on my rapier hilt, watching. How the men with the white and black favors fawned about him! Yet each one would sooner see him floating facedown in the canal. The factions vied to be seen in his company. I waited as they advanced down the jetty toward the zorca chariot that would carry him through the streets so the people might see him there as well as along the canals. I saw the woman at his side. This was the fabled Queen of Lome. Banners flew, birds screeched up from the water, zorcas and totrixes scraped their hooves, officers barked orders, the crack and smash of sword and rapier as the drills were gone through, the tramp of marching feet — and over all the high shrilling yells of the crowd, welcoming their emperor back to his capital. Yes, this was a day to remember!
He saw me, standing alone, isolated, shunned by the nobles. Oh, yes, there were many nobles loyal to him, but these had gone pushing down with the rest to show that their loyalty, at any rate, was not feigned.
Standing there in all my foppish finery, for I had dressed up with the explicit intention of demonstrating my feelings for this kind of occasion, I refused to budge. Let the old devil walk past me and offer his hand, and then I would welcome him. He and I had had our moments.
Slave girls sprinkled flower petals before the feet of the emperor and this Queen of Lome. She walked with a swaying, gliding gait and she was heavily veiled, whereat a groan of dismay went up from all the assembly. I looked at her. I’d find out about her, that was for sure. So the emperor, the most powerful man in this part of Kregen, walked past on the crimson carpets. He was between me and the queen. He turned his head. He looked just the same, big and tough with that powerful head, that merciless and demanding expression. He stared at me.
“Lahal, Dray Prescot. And where is my daughter?”
“She is not here, Emperor.”
He frowned. He didn’t like me calling him emperor. “I have heard stories concerning your misdeeds. Attend me tonight. I shall demand a strict accounting from you, by Vox!”
Thirteen
The interview with Delia’s father was short and sharp.
“Where is my daughter?”
“She has gone about her own affairs for a space.”
“That will be the Sisters of the Rose. She’s worse than her mother. I shall have this monstrosity you are building torn down. It means nothing and wastes resources and slaves. The new bagnios will be built.”
“More slaves!” I shouted at him.
“Aye, son-in-law! You have served me well in the past, I own that. I don’t damned well like you, at least not much, and-”
“And you can believe that sentiment returned!”
“Do you forget I am emperor?”
He sat up in his lenken chair with the gold and scarlet cushions, and the gold cup shook and spilled his wine. It was his purple wine of Wenhartdrin. We were alone in that chamber where I had bargained before, where we could speak our minds — well, as much as we’d ever reveal them to each other.
“No. I don’t forget. I saw the disgusting display by these damned racter nobles. You know the plots against you? You are aware of the troubles in the northeast? Do you know your own daughter’s Delphond is growing surly and suspicious because of your stinking slavers, your foul aragorn?”
“I have to rule as best I can. By Vox, it is not an easy thing to rule an empire.”
“I know. You’ll have need of proper stabling for the flyers we must have to meet the Hamalian aerial cavalry. Yet you build more slave barracks. Your agents steal away slaves-”
“Not mine! The business is in the hands of Companies of Friends-”
“In which you have darned high stakes!”
“And if I have, do I not have enormous expenses?”
I breathed in hard. Like the scorpion said, it is in a being’s nature to be himself. Vallia had always been like this since he could remember, so why should he change it now because some wild clansman roared in to marry his daughter and shout around impossible ideas?
To get away from the explosion I saw was imminent, I said, “And this queen, this Queen of Lome, this Queen Lush?”
He fired up at this.
“The queen’s name is Queen Lushfymi! I will not have her called Queen Lush. It is an insult and I’ll have the head off the next cramph who calls her that! She is a remarkable woman.”
So wrought up was I that I did not look at him, and so must have missed the first signs.
