Augo thanked them for the business and let them off at the palace gates. Though he wondered how many more flights like this they could afford them unless Sampheli started teaching again, Edmath headed immediately for the division of the Saale Emperor. Zuria wished him luck as she strode toward the gate to the second division where she was meeting the War Empress, Marnaia Hayel, to confirm her new position.
The Saales of Lexine Park were among the most valued in Zel. Edmath didn’t believe he and his friends had received their positions through coincidence alone. The other three major Saale Parks did not focus on youth and progress the same way as Lexine, though he had never visited them.
Haddishal Rumenha met Edmath, Razili, and Tusami in his throne room. They spent the better part of an hour alone with him, taking time to tell him their interests and ambitions so that he could assign them a job among the Saales he commanded. Razili wanted to help in administration more than in research while Tusami sought old knowledge more than new.
Edmath told the emperor about his desire to perform research, to work further on plant creations and perhaps even find a way to draw life from stone. Emperor Rumenha seemed convinced by the plant research, at least, but his eyebrows went up slightly when Edmath mentioned drawing life energy from stones. He gave Edmath exactly what he had asked for when the four of them had all gathered again. In exchange for the research grants and supplies, the emperor set forth the court services for each of them to perform while they lived at the palace. Edmath had known it was coming and it was all things he had expected.
First of all, every Saale would be required to attend to the high court regularly, and second, on the long list, each of them would be at the emperor’s disposal for the year as a representative of his court. Edmath could easily bear that for the research materials and the time he would have to study. The experience of working in court itself would be valuable as well as enjoyable.
When the arrangements had been made for their service, Edmath went with the servants to pick out his room from the various chambers open to the year-long lease of Imperial Saales. He chose one on the second level of the hall adjacent to the Saale Palace and spent the rest of the day moving his possessions from the hostel into the palace. Sampheli came back with him up to the palace to see where he would be living. They talked over the role the emperor had given him, and how Zuria had been accepted by the War Empress’s court.
Sitting on the window seat overlooking the courtyard below, Sampheli peered outside. On the other side of the room, Edmath folded the last of his tunics and placed it in a cedar chest. He had been told that every room had one, given as gifts by the Elk King forty years ago. Turning to look at Sampheli, Edmath closed the chest. She laughed with a short and high-pitched sound.
“This palace is as brilliant as I remembered. Come here, Edmath.”
Walking to the window, Edmath sat down beside his mother and looked out. The courtyard was full of soldiers on parade, pikemen in green clothes over chain armor, carrying black-bladed weapons from their barracks. The palace might not be a military stronghold but of course, there were more guards than just the Enchiel.
“Do you know where they’re from?” He pointed at the soldiers fanning out their formation.
“Ultor, most likely,” Sampheli said. “I expect they’ve come for the new court season. Every summer most of the guard is changed if I do recall.”
“Interesting. I suppose this gives every nation more equal stake with the empire. The provinces can support themselves, of course, but the imperial army protects all of Zel.”
Sampheli’s delicately veined hands folded together as she turned toward Edmath.
“We all work to protect Zel, my son, not just the soldiers.”
Another formation came into view just behind the Ultorian pikemen. There were twenty or so of them. They surrounded a carriage pulled by a massive animal Edmath had to search his memory of bestiaries to remember, for it did not come from Zel. It was a long-eared hare, covered in black fur except for a short white tail and white patterns around the eyes, and easily the size of a very large elk or bear. The procession around it wore red tunics, but without armor, and their weapons were sheathed. One man walked in the lead. He wore a robe of pure crimson and long black hair twined with colorful beads. He called the formation to a halt with a raised hand.
“That looks like a delegation from Roshi.”
Sampheli nodded.
“They are due. I heard the ambassador would be Kethina Nalondran.”
“Should I know that name?”
“No reason you should.” Sampheli frowned. “She is of the highest tier of the Roshi priesthood, beneath only to the Minister Regent who rules Roshi himself. It was she who led them in the last war when you were still so young.”
Edmath folded his arms. “And now they send her as an ambassador? That does not bode well.” His eyes fixed on the black-haired man in the robe. The man’s robe might well mark him as a Dawkun, one of the fearsome magic wielders of Roshi. “She brings a Dawkun with her. Perhaps she would agree with me.”
“They will stay on the palace grounds, but there is nothing to be concerned about. I doubt Roshi desires another war.”
“Let us hope they do not.”
“Yes, son. Now, I know this is a change of subject, but I have a question for you.”
Edmath looked at his mother’s dark and wrinkled face. She did not wear her usual smile, and her eyes were half-lidded. He suspected that she might have heard about him and Chelka, though he hoped her tiredness only had to do with the day’s work. Regardless, his and Chelka’s relationship wasn’t meant to be a secret but it had been that way for far too long.
“Of course. What is your question, mother?”
“Edmath, I feel as though you may be missing something from your life.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Why haven’t you sought a woman? You don’t have forever, and though I call you my son, we both know that if you are to join the fold of Zel you will need to have children of your own someday.”
“I graduated just this week. Give me some time, good mother.”
“Forgive me, son. I worry about you. That is common to all mothers, perhaps.” Sampheli rose from her seat and crossed the room. “I am going to return to the hostel. I am tired and the day is hot.”
Sampheli left and Edmath set to unpacking his other possessions. Besides his clothing, he had books and small stones. The books ranged from life art manuals through striker guides and all the way to bestiaries. He knew most of these texts by heart, but they might still be useful, he told himself. More than that, however, they helped keep his mind comfortable in this new place, where the nation of Roshi and its feared Dawkuns, seemed closer than ever.
He drew the curtains on the windows as the sun went down.
In the palace the next morning a servant told Edmath he would have a few days to get comfortable within the city before his duties officially began. Exploring the palace and the surrounding area took the majority of Edmath’s time that week when he wasn’t learning the ins and outs of Haddishal Rumenha’s court.
The court usually oversaw petitions from Saales both minor and major, as they arrived from all over the empire to request funds or other assistance for their work. Occasionally more ordinary people would arrive to offer tribute for the services of agents of the court, or to make requests for such help. Haddishal ruled on most of them early in the week, with help of his loud-voiced and heavyset chamberlain, who had moved to the court with the Saale Emperor and his wife, also a member of the Bear Tribe.
The big chamberlain would call the name of each official and Saale who arrived in the audience chamber before they explained their situation. He seemed to enjoy the sheer sound he could make. The animals Edmath frequently saw in the place did not enjoy the sound as much. Edmath gathered that from the soft complains of many different species, barely understandable in their own languages, as the chamber
lain bellowed in Zelian.
In particular, the small cats that prowled corridors of the palace hunting vermin seemed irritated by the chamberlain. There was no tribe for such creatures in Zel, so no royals in the city could understand them, but they served perfectly without communicating. Edmath watched them scatter with hisses and feline curses each morning as the chamberlain first rose to speak. Beyond amusement, Edmath did not quite know what to make of the little animals, and he tried not to let on that he understood them.
At lunchtime, he was always hungry. He usually went to eat at a restaurant with Brosk or Zuria but avoided going with both of them at once. The idea that they might somehow end up talking about Chelka was too great a problem for him, as the two of them had very different opinions on the matter. Brosk might lack perspective because he was a prince, but Edmath still liked his point of view better than Zuria’s. She seemed to think Chelka was out of reach and he should give up on her affections.
She didn’t understand that he would not, for good or ill. Of course, she could be right, but the way Chelka had talked on that last night at Lexine Park had given Edmath a different idea about when to give up. He wouldn’t.
She might not have come to Diar, but Sizali wasn’t that far away. Surely their separation was not permanent, as she worked for the War Empress on something, though it seemed no one in the palace knew precisely what. Chelka’s greatest achievement in school had been her use of chemical heat, but other than applying such intense fire as a weapon, Edmath wondered what manner of task the War Empress could have her set to work in secret.
A day after his first week in court, he and Brosk were eating lunch in a small restaurant on the hillside and talking about how different things were outside school. The two-story building was half-buried in the slope. They sat on the top floor, beneath a tiled overhang of the roof with an open view of the city and the sea. Such restaurants were uncommon in smaller towns such as Lexine. Edmath was greatly pleased with the variety of options in the city, as well as the amount his stipend from the Saale Emperor’s pay allowed him to eat. Brosk plucked an oyster from his plate with his fork and ate it.
Setting the fork down, he turned away from the view of the sea to look at Edmath.
“Have you heard from Chelka yet?”
Edmath didn’t like to say it, but he had no choice. Lying to Brosk was not an option in small matters or large ones. He valued the whale prince’s friendship too much to jeopardize it.
“No, I have not.”
“Well, neither have I.” Brosk skewered a spinach leaf and lifted it to his nose to smell it before putting it back down. “It hasn’t been long, though I’ve heard a letter from Sizali can arrive overnight if they use a good eagle to carry it.”
“Really?” Edmath chuckled. “Perhaps I should send her a message, then.”
“Do you know where she is?” Brosk smiled.
Brosk’s optimism infected him. He grinned and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Of course I do, Brosk. She is in her father’s palace…most likely. After all, that is one reason she went home to Sizali first. She did not want to come immediately to court, and I imagine that place is nearly empty, with her family living in the palace here. Perhaps there is no secret war work and she simply wants privacy at the moment.”
“That’s possible enough, Ed. I suppose you have some things you would like to tell her.”
“I do. Though truly, I wish she was here. Letters can make it so difficult to communicate one’s exact meaning. I fear I should create more problems with a message than one would solve.”
“Best to wait, then. Chelka has a way with words.” Brosk reclined in the restaurant’s high-backed wicker chair. “I for one am glad she plans to come here. Her father wouldn’t be able to bemoan her absence when she does.”
“Does he do that much?” Edmath shook his head, trying to imagine Zemoy Benisar carrying on about his daughter. He was very proud of her, but he had other children and a portion of a nation to manage along with his status as Hearth Emperor and seat on the Council of Kings.
A flock of long-billed gulls touched down on the rooftops of the city stretched out below the restaurant. Edmath caught snatches of their voices as they screamed at each other to share the food in their deep gullets. Brosk’s eye flicked lazily from them to Edmath.
“I see you are enjoying the view. Does flight interest you, Ed?”
“Not so much as you might think,” Edmath said. “Flight would be wonderful. I’ve enjoyed a few sky-carriage rides since arriving in the city, though lately, I have been thinking more about simply vanishing one place and appearing another. The four warlords were rumored to be able to do so ages ago.”
“With magic then? I’m afraid no Saale has had enough control to do it in recent years. It’s a mighty idea though.”
Edmath put his palm on the table and leaned forward. “I didn’t tell you, although I should have. In fact, it very nearly slipped my mind altogether until this moment. You see, I met a woman who can do precisely that.”
“Here in the city, then? Are you sure you aren’t being swindled?” Brosk swung his legs onto the low railing on the edge of the balcony. “If you aren’t, then I’d advise we stop this silliness right now.”
“She is the High Emperor’s Saale. I believe her name is Lady Zasha. She struck only once and was able to transport me across the palace grounds.”
Brosk brought his legs back down to the floor and put his hands on his chin. He looked back to the gulls.
“That is interesting. I must meet this lady, perhaps, and see if what you say is true.”
“It would be interesting to see how she became so skilled. She is even younger than we are, probably not even twenty years old yet.”
Edmath remembered the yellow-haired girl like a shadow, but it wasn’t her face that concerned him much. She might be the most powerful Saale in the empire, which put her close to being the most powerful in the world. Of all the Saale Parks only the masters of Roene seemed so interested in transportation.
Only a single provost from Lexine Park had written regarding the Winter Park even looked into spell transportation at all. Edmath remembered from the treatise the presumed difficulties of moving objects even short distances without physical assistance. Any Saale who could try that would need several times the amount of magic Keve had been able to take in before attempting it.
Brosk looked back out at the sea.
“Very well, Ed. Shall we go?”
“I think so.”
Edmath got to his feet. He’d paid earlier in the meal and because of their conversation, he wanted to get back to the palace as soon as possible. Brosk had given him an idea, and remembering the High Emperor’s Saale had helped too. It reminded him of the village on Dreamwater that had vanished and Brosk had told him about. He needed to know more.
Edmath attended court early the second week. That day, the Saale Emperor greeted a delegation from the court of the minister regent of Roshi. Uneasy peace currently reigned between the two nations, but always with Roshi ambassadors came the threat of Roshi violence.
Standing on one side of Haddishal Rumenha’s throne in the Saale Emperor’s hall, Edmath watched the ambassador approach, flanked by red-clad and hooded Roshi protectors. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, a pale woman with feathers in her hair and a cloak of horse hair. She belonged to one of the Roshi royal tribes, but no sign of which one or her status within it presented itself to Edmath.
“Kethina Nalondran, Minister of the Lion Tribe,” announced the chamberlain.
A trio of lesser cats in the doorway of a side-passage hissed, then fled down the corridor.
Edmath kept his face impassive, despite the urge to frown. On the other side of the throne, Razili nodded in his direction, almost imperceptibly. His lessons in etiquette might pay off yet.
The Lion Tribe were famous warriors, but who could say if that meant this ambassador was here
for battle.
“Saale Emperor Haddishal Rumenha,” said Kethina without bow or motion of respect. “I appreciate the ceremony, but why I have come to discuss really must be spoken in private.”
“I see.” Haddishal folded his hands. “We will quarter you and your protectors here in the palace until such a time as I may speak with you. Is that acceptable, minister?”
Kethina nodded.
“It is.” She turned to go.
“One last thing,” said Haddishal. “You will show appropriate respect in the future, minister, or my hospitality may be withdrawn.”
“What respect can one pay a murderous ghost-mage?” said one of the Roshi protectors, face concealed by his hood, but voice clearly audible along with the clinks of beads in his hair.
“Excuse me?” Haddishal rose from his throne.
Kethina held a hand out to the protector who had spoken as if to silence him.
“You harbor murderers, raise ghosts for your own will. You are an abomination, as is the man who stands beside you.” The protector pointed at Edmath.
His mouth went dry. He stared at the raised finger, fighting the urge to protest the accusation.
“Minister, control your servant,” said Haddishal through clenched teeth. “My charity for your kind is limited enough as it is.”
“Likewise,” said Kethina. “Akalok,” she said to the angry protector. “Let us go.”
The Roshi delegation left the hall. Edmath sighed heavily. Haddishal turned to him.
“Don’t worry about that man. He’s just a barking dog, well and truly leashed.”
Edmath nodded, still unsettled by the exchange.
“I will remember that, Excellency.”
“See that you do. As one of my court Saales you need not suffer such abuse.”
Edmath thanked him. He puzzled over the reason the man from Roshi had pointed at him directly. He could not remember ever meeting a Roshi, let alone one of their warriors or mages before. After that day, he hoped never to meet one again.
Spells of the Curtain: Court Mage Page 8
