****
Night's veil blanketed the sky when the Sunjaa and Ausir ships anchored off the wide, shallow bay of the Dimadan. The distant, forest-covered mountains of the island, mysterious masses of shadow, rose into the darkness, and between the foothills and the beach the lights of fires and lanterns dotted the landscape, evidence of the Zenji city. Heavy clouds invisible in the gloom blotted out the moons, and little could be seen. Kamen and Ruben lowered away in a small boat and rowed toward land. When they arrived, they found the Kimereth captain—along with some of his sailors—there waiting for them. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, and though it surprised Kamen, he retained his composure.
"Not a word about the eyes," he whispered through the side of his mouth to Ruben.
The two Sunjaa stomped across the wet sand to where the Kimereth stood and waited with smirks on their faces. What was so funny?
The Kimereth captain looked up. "When Kerolebos and Kerolindos hide, Men do not see." He spoke in the Fihdal tongue. He had let Kamen gesture and talk through a translator like an idiot. Kamen would not forget it.
The Sunjaa Regent smiled. "This is the Dimadan, home of the Zenji people. Doubtless they have news of our arrival. Someone will be here soon."
The Ausir captain's lip curled. By stating the obvious, Kamen had reminded him of his current situation and how he would not even be standing here if Kamen had not forced him to.
Kamen's winning smile did not break, not even when voices alerted him to the approach of others. Sunjaa sailors came with Losiengare representatives in tow. They carried their three-deer banner with them.
Kamen shook his head, and what he knew was going to happen happened. The Kimereth drew their swords.
"Really?" Kamen asked, turning back to the Kimereth. "You'd spill blood in a land that is not your own, among people you do not know. Do you not know what the Zenji would do to you?"
"And what is that?" The Kimereth captain spat his words.
Kamen shrugged. "I don't know, but I wouldn't want to find out. Put your swords away. We're here to talk. You're the ones who brought your fight to Arinport. Are you ready to rouse King Jahen's anger?"
The Ausir captain laughed. "Nay. We would seek alliance with the Sunjaa."
"As would we," a Losiengare said. Kamen guessed he was the captain of one of the two surviving caravels.
"There will be no talk of alliance until you put your swords away, Kimereth, and you store your banner back on your ship, Losiengare."
Kamen's knowledge of Ausir noble heraldry clearly surprised them.
"The Sunjaa Crown does not negotiate with posturing factions." Kamen's words were a jab into the Ausir pride, for they, too, had once been a strong, united people.
After a few grumbles and other Ausir mutterings that Kamen assumed were curses, the Ausir backed down just in time for the arrival of a Zenji delegation carrying lanterns on long poles. It was headed by none other than the Lotus Guildmaster himself. He wore a fine, quilted waistcoat against the night's chill.
"Would that moonslight brought you here, Regent." The Guildmaster spoke to him in the Sunjaa tongue. "You are most welcome." He bowed low, and all his slaves and attendants did so, as well. Once he rose from his greeting, his gaze traveled from one group of Ausir to the other and then back to Kamen. "What brings the Aramina to port?" The question was mere courtesy.
"These gentle soldiers require lodging for the night." Kamen indicated the Ausir sailors. "And I, too, would like to taste the fruits of your legendary hospitality."
The Guildmaster bowed again, but in his eyes Kamen could see his avarice. The Zenji attached a steep price to their hospitality, but it was worth it. They bred Lotuses, the finest companions with whom a man—or woman—could ever hope to spend an evening. The Guildmaster's eyes narrowed as he looked over his guests. He was calculating what these Ausir could pay.
"They are of the mighty Kimereth and Losiengare Houses," Kamen said in answer to his unasked questions.
The Guildmaster nodded and bowed. "Come," he said in Sunjaa and repeated it in Ausir. "My people will see to your every comfort."
As they walked from the beach along a wide stone path through the trees, Kamen fell into step beside the Guildmaster. He whispered to him in Sunjaa. "Keep the Ausir apart for the night. They're bitter enemies."
The Guildmaster's smile did not alter. He nodded ever so slightly, but his eyes still twinkled in greed. "And what about you, Regent? Will you require the presence of a Lotus?"
Though tempted, Kamen waved away the offer. He had shared Saerileth with Darien once, and though she was quite skilled, it was Darien Kamen had wanted. Lying with a Lotus now would only remind him of Darien. How he longed to see his friend again.
"I'm exhausted," Kamen said, making an excuse for himself.
The Guildmaster made another bow. "Then I will send a boy to your chambers. He will sing you to sleep."
Kamen shrugged. "That's fine."
The Guildmaster directed some of his servants to escort Kamen on a diverging path through the tall, thin trees beyond the city. They reached the guild compound and passed beyond its high, roofed walls whereupon guards with polearms and lanterns stood ever vigilant. Kamen was not directed into the main compound, however, but was led around another inner wall and across a lawn bisected by a smaller stone path. The lanterns held by the guild slaves that shone on either side of him lit his way and showed him mere glimpses of a carefully sculpted garden that would have been marvelous to see by day's light.
The path curved to the left, and Kamen saw the water's edge. He looked out across the black distance. A lake. He was escorted down another path, and just as his eyes made out the shape of some structure near the water, the moons broke through the clouds and revealed a tea-house built on stilts over the lake. A small bridge connected it to land. Kamen's breath caught in his throat, and even though the moons soon ducked back behind their veil, he did not soon forget the beauty of that brief scene. The slanted roof, the charming slatted windows, a tiny house of wood and paper perfectly situated.
The slaves opened the house for him, making careful fires in small, protected braziers in the four corners of the room. In the middle of the depressed center of the floor stood a table over which hung a fresh cut branch of white blossoms. Kamen took off his shoes as directed and walked the perimeter of the house, which consisted only of this room, as the slaves prepared his bedding of thick blankets stuffed with down feathers.
The guild servants disappeared as quickly and quietly as they had worked, and Kamen suddenly found himself alone. They had left him water boiling over a low fire, a tea set on the table, and a variety of crackers and soft snacks. As Kamen ate a sweet, red bean paste nestled in a wide leaf, there came a knock at the door.
"Enter," Kamen said in Sunjaa.
The door opened, and a boy stood there with dulcimer in hand. The youth's face was striking, and Kamen, expecting some nondescript music slave to appear, found himself staring at the boy.
"Come in."
The boy obeyed and answered in flawless Sunjaa, though he clearly was not one of Kamen's kind. "I am come to play for you." He cradled his dulcimer against his chest. His skin was fair, his hair gold. And if that were not enough, his green eyes told Kamen that the boy could not have been Zenji. Kamen had never seen a blond Zenji. Had the Guildmaster purchased a foreign child? Had he been given to the guild by his Fihdal or Vadal parents? Something about this boy did not sit right with Kamen. His facial features were strange, the bone structure of his cheeks, chin, and jaw too angular, his eyes too large for his face.
Kamen poured hot water into the tea-pot. "What is your name?"
"Kaelmoro, sir."
"Kaelmoro?" Certainly not a Zenji name. "And what are you going to play?"
"What is your pleasure, sir?"
Kamen poured himself a cup of tea, and as he blew across its steamy surface, he thought about the question. He wanted to relax and get a good night's sleep. The next morning he would
have to stand between two warring Ausir factions and listen to them babble on in a language he could not understand. "Something soothing."
Kaelmoro grabbed a flat pillow, sat on it, and laid the dulcimer across his lap. He ran his fingers up and down the instrument's neck, plucking the strings and tuning its chords. And then after a single, clear strum of the dulcimer, the boy sang.
My son, build the temple, so I may rest
This old shell cannot keep warm
Cannot keep warm under the toil
While the lilies slowly drown
And the sea echoes, "build the temple"
Carry me into the temple
And let me know peace again
I have shed blood and may not touch its floor
Carry me, and suffer the lilies
They contain the memory of our fathers
And our nation
Go and sing the song of resurrection
Sing, that these bones might live and praise
Kamen wept at the heartbreaking beauty of the song, how the melody jumped the octave in the middle of the phrase, and how it rose to a crescendo after the word "nation" just before the final refrain. He wiped his tears from his eyes, sipped his tea, and looked across the room at Kaelmoro.
"Where did you learn a song like that?"
Kaelmoro cast his gaze to the floor in front of him. "I wrote it."
"Wrote it?" Perhaps the boy's genius was why the Guildmaster had him. But that Kaelmoro could write such a song of the melancholy of old age unsettled Kamen. "It's the most beautiful song I've ever heard."
"Thank you, sir." Kaelmoro rose. "And now I will leave you. Good night, sir." He bowed in Zenji fashion, slipped into his shoes at the door, and fled into the night.
Kamen finished his tea and lay down. As he drifted off to sleep, his mind replayed the song, and he hummed the tune, trying to remember the words.
****
Kamen heard the screaming before he entered the building. And the screaming was being done in Ausir. He broke into a trot, crossing the garden in no time. He wished he had had more time to enjoy the scenery, but if he did not get to the main house quickly enough, there would be blood. Kamen rushed through the gate and took the stairs two at a time. Once on the covered outer porch, he slipped off his shoes, pulled the door aside, and entered. He found the Ausir red-faced and arguing. Clearly they had not been able to convince any of the Lotuses to go to bed with them. Had the situation been different, Kamen would have laughed. As it was, he raised his hands and cried out.
"We're leaving," the Kimereth captain said. "We should've never followed you here in the first place."
The room was full of Sunjaa sailors who had interposed themselves between the Ausir spoiling for a fight. Zenji servants lined the walls, and the Guildmaster was on the other side of the large room. Kamen nodded to him.
The Guildmaster spread a smile across his face almost as wide as his outstretched arms. He spoke in Ausir, and whatever it was he said, it made the Kimereth and Losiengare calm down. Kamen heard his and Jahen's name several times during the speech. He also caught the words "Sunjaa" and "Arinport". Kamen was a consummate politician, able to read people without ever hearing them talk, so it was not difficult for him to detect the Guildmaster's deferential attitude toward him. And the longer the Guildmaster spoke, the more the Ausir came to mimic his attitude. Kamen shook his head and chuckled. There was witchcraft in the Lotus ways of persuasion. Kamen remembered how Saerileth had once convinced the Vadal King to aid Jahen's bid for the throne through nothing more than a mere conversation.
The Guildmaster gestured toward Kamen and bowed low. All the servants in the room also bowed, and the impression this made upon the Ausir was plain. This was Kamen's cue.
Kamen descended the three steps into the room's central depression. "Please, mighty Ausir who ride the sea like a stallion, sit, and let us talk."
****
Kamen led the way from the negotiation chamber toward the guildhouse dining hall. He was, of course, attended by the Guildmaster, but Kamen knew that the Ausir were following him. He sighed. The discussion had been slow, but he was unwilling to give much ground. The Ausir must keep their war out of all Sunjaa waters. They had not, of course, been able to deny the justice of that demand, but the actual border beyond which they would keep their conflicts had caused much debate, and the final agreement would not be made until after this meal.
“Please, noble guests, sit, and partake of the humble fare of the Red Lotus Guild.” The Guildmaster indicated the lunch table laden with all manner of fruits, baked fish, and cold boiled vegetables.
The Ausir moved to sit, the Kimereth on one side of the long table, the Losiengare on the other. Ruben sat at one end, and Kamen took the head. The Sunjaa sailors ascended the steps and waited at the edges of the room.
Servants came forward to serve, slaves in unadorned floor-length cotton robes. They poured drinks and set food before the guests. Two pale, delicate, feminine hands appeared before Kamen's eyes, and his gaze followed the length of the arm until it reached the face of the one who served him. He nearly jumped out of his seat. The woman had golden hair, and her features, too, were angular. Not Zenji at all. In fact, she reminded him of the boy minstrel the night before.
"Thank you," he said in Sunjaa as she set a napkin before him.
She bowed in Zenji fashion and moved off, and Kamen could not help but stare at her. She was lovely, of a beauty that rivaled Saerileth's or any other Lotus's. Perhaps even more beautiful because of her unusual countenance. Her long golden hair was piled up on her head in a complicated, curving braid that sloped down her scalp only to snake around and end in a heap on top of her head, held in place by pins. So much hair, so lovely. Why would a woman who looked like her work in the kitchen? She walked around the table with grace, confidence, and air. She was not meek like the other slaves. Still, Kamen could not take his eyes from her. When she bent over, he stole glimpses of the curve of her ass and thighs. His gaze traveled down her back and then back up, over her neck and through her braid again. Once she looked back at him, and Kamen had to look away quickly and act like he was calling over one of his men who stood near her. When the Sunjaa sailor reported to him, Kamen said, "Never mind." He waved the man away.
There was to be an hour of peace before the negotiations resumed, so Kamen decided to sit back and enjoy the guildhouse cuisine. He sampled the cold boiled vegetables first. They contained just the slightest hint of weak vinegar, but were in all other ways unappetizing. Zenji food just was not as flavorful as Sunjaa. First of all, there was no bread to be seen. Kamen could not imagine a meal without bread. And what with the solemnity of the occasion, he had expected boiled cabbage. There was none, for it was not considered a delicacy here.
Kamen dug into the baked fish with the small, silver fork provided. It was delicious, and its soft, tangy meat melted in his mouth. The Ausir spoke in hushed tones, though the factions did not speak to each other. The only communication between the two were cold stares, curled lips, and sucked teeth. Kamen watched and ate, but he said nothing. He wished he could understand them, because often the Losiengare sailors looked at him and nodded to one another.
"They will make promises they do not intend to keep." The blonde serving woman was at Kamen's elbow, whispering in his ear.
He looked up at her, and he stared at her soft lips. The scent of ginger hung about her, and it intoxicated him. "What?" he asked at last.
"You there." The Guildmaster ran over and grabbed the woman by the arm. "Back to work. How dare you speak to the Regent!"
Kamen stood, and the table fell silent. "It's all right. I want to hear what she has to say."
The Guildmaster grinned and bowed, pushing the woman behind him. "She has nothing to say. She is insolent. I will have her beaten."
Beat her? Why would any man even consider marring her perfect, alien beauty? "That won't be necessary. I shall hear her."
The Guildmaster glared back at the wom
an. "She is troublesome."
"Then I will take her outside." Kamen held out his hand.
Everyone watched, and the Guildmaster smiled and bowed to his unwanted audience. While he did so, Kamen took the girl by the hand. The Guildmaster could not prevent him now without causing undue embarrassment, so Kamen ascended the steps with her and walked out onto the porch.
"What did you mean just now?" Kamen let go of her hand but did not step away from her, as would have been natural when conversing with a stranger.
Neither did she step back. "The Losiengare will promise you anything because they already plan to betray you."
"How so?"
The woman's blue-green eyes searched Kamen's face before she answered. Her eyes reminded him of the sea. "They will promise you friendship on disadvantageous terms for themselves, and then they will steal your ships to resupply their depleted navy. They spoke of not being allowed as far south as Masnaport, but they plan, once you have built up a sufficient number of ships north of Masnaport to guard your border, to sail in and fire smoke cannons upon your fleet."
“Smoke cannons?”
“Yes, sir. They said—and I do not know the details, for they did not speak much of them—that the human sailors would lose first their sight and then their breath altogether, but that the Ausir would have masks prepared. I presume the masks would purify the air for them.”
Kamen looked back toward the closed door they had just exited. "Truly? How do you know this?"
"They were whispering about it in corners, between here and the meeting hall. They even spoke of it some last night, for doubtless they knew what you, sir, would propose."
Kamen looked down at the woman's breasts, their full curves visible through her thin gown. His gaze snapped back to her face. "What's your name?"
"Ajalira, sir." Kamen's hands rose toward her, but he forced them back down. The way she said her name made Kamen want to pull her to him.
"I'm Kamen."
A Lotus for the Regent Page 4
