by R. Cooper
Nikay did not show any signs of temper. “Rinnah,” he began again, easily, confidently, “did I tell you that Rafti returned from Basri’i and the old empire with some items from before the Conquest? If I could finally convince you to return to the capital for a visit, you might view them. Larin tells me you still study the histories.”
“There are pre-Conquest relics on Olea land,” Mos pointed out, with no emotion.
“Yes!” Rinnah raised her head. “We looked at some of them today. You were otherwise occupied this morning or you might have seen them with us.” She had more regret in her tone than Taji would have. But Taji made a poor diplomat.
“We should view those again sometime,” Taji offered. “And discuss how they add to the glory of the Olea.” Hopefully, that made up for this morning. Tsomyal squeezed his hand and let go in order to hold onto his arm. Taji took that as encouragement. “But the hunt will be farther down the mountain? All the way into the valley below?”
“If need be,” Nikay answered shortly.
“How long does it last?” Taji wondered.
Nikay exhaled heavily. “You have many questions.”
Taji shrugged. “I am a simple, greedy shehzha.”
“Oh,” Talfa murmured. “This is not what I expected.”
“This is why shehzha are kept away.” Nikay did not quite snarl, but the tone was not controlled.
“Nikay.” Eriat seemed tense or irritated or both. “Calm yourself.”
“Koel have no place to tell me to do anything.” Nikay turned to Eriat and Gia. “You are only here at Larin’s whim. To amuse him, like visitors from a faraway coalition.”
“Yes. My sister has always been curious about the stars.” Larin’s voice carried across the distance.
The garden went quiet. The others froze, but Taji had to turn to watch Larin approach.
Larin continued to speak as though unaware of every eye on him. “She was curious about many things, often too much for her own good, which is why I like her kept safely here at Laviias.”
Taji slowly raised his head. Larin was at the edge of their little group—or what had been the edge before Gia moved aside to give him room.
“I thought the trade coalition visitors might appeal to her.” Larin met Taji’s gaze and held it. “You and my sister have many things in common, human shehzha. Did you appreciate my gift?”
Taji blanked. His mind completely emptied instead of telling him what the hell Larin was talking about.
Then the two Imperial Guards behind him made the slightest whisper of a sound as they stood at attention, and Taji could think again. “I am not sure it was necessary,” he stumbled over his words like it was his first day in a real classroom, “but thank you for thinking of me.” He almost made it a question and had to try again to sound more convincing. “I am—”
He couldn’t say he was honored. The words wouldn’t form, because it felt wrong to say them to someone else, like a trap, or a crime against Trenne. Taji did his best.
“Thank you.”
“And what do you think of this evening?” Larin pressed.
“This place is very beautiful,” Tsomyal stepped into the fray, giving Taji the space to breathe. “Is this your personal garden?”
“It is.” Larin turned to Tsomyal. He was always composed and polite, but that didn’t stop Taji from wanting to avoid him. “This section of the palace is reserved for the head of the Olea, although I have rarely been in residence for long since the death of my mother, when I became emperor.”
Hereditary succession without some sort of civil upheaval wasn’t unheard of, as far as Taji knew, but he was still curious about how young Larin had been for that transition, and how his mother had died, and what had kept someone else from trying to take the title—and Larin’s life.
Damn it. Taji needed to ask Trenne or Lin more about the Guard, such as where they came from and how they trained and how many of them there were.
“I come to Laviias to escape the capital, and to visit my sister.” Larin physically paused when he noticed Taji’s hand on Tsomyal, but recovered with a graceful flick of his wrist. “But I come here when I want to be alone.”
If the dozens of nobles and servants around them constituted ‘alone,’ then Larin’s residence in the capital must be crowded all the time.
Larin apparently read Taji’s thoughts in his expression. He leaned down a few inches as though they were sharing a secret, when of course everyone else could hear. “This is a special occasion. So many honored guests, and—rarest of all—a shehzha among us. I can do nothing but offer my best.”
Taji swallowed dryly. “It is a beautiful garden.” Unlike the gardens on the estates of the nobles, this one seemed to exist purely for aesthetics and not some combination of practicality and decoration. He couldn’t help but be impressed. “I grew up in a place where plants were very different. Mostly for food or for projects to make the land less hostile. Everything has a purpose, and beauty is secondary to that, if it was ever considered. This is amazing.”
Larin made a sound of pleasure in his throat. “You can always rely on shehzha for honesty.”
Taji had never heard shehzha being praised for anything but the obvious. Evidently, neither had Nikay, who looked blank.
Larin was focused solely on Taji.
Taji’s voice went soft against his will. “Is that…?” he hesitated, but had to ask. “Is that their cultural purpose as well? To speak the truth?”
Nikay turned his head as if addressing their audience. “No one goes to Talfa for wisdom.”
Taji flinched and looked away from Larin at last. “I did,” he pointed out.
“He had questions,” Talfa said quickly, although Nikay hardly deserved the explanation.
“Questions?” Larin was not bothered or distracted by the interruptions. “If you like, I can answer those for you, human shehzha.”
“Taji,” Taji said automatically. “My name is Taji.”
“Taji,” Larin repeated, warm and low, making Taji shiver. Only Trenne ever called Taji by his first name like that. Taji found he couldn’t look Larin in the eye. That didn’t seem to bother Larin. “What do you want to know?”
“Really?” Nikay wondered. The word he used was literally ‘truth’ but his tone of disgust made Taji amend his mental translation. Nikay stared hard at Larin, then at Taji. His expression abruptly changed, ears half lowering to something like sharp amusement. “This should be interesting,” he commented, sweeping a look from Taji’s head to his feet.
Unsure, Taji glanced to the others. Tsomyal still held his hand, but Eriat’s attention was on his emperor. Rinnah looked back at him, but her face offered no support, and no indication of what Taji ought to do next. He wondered if she condemned him for being here, or allowing her brother to talk to him this way, or if she approved. Perhaps she thought Larin’s interest was better than Trenne’s.
Tsomyal surprised Taji again by speaking up. “He is curious about this hunt of yours.”
Larin cocked his head to the side but didn’t take his eyes off Taji.
Taji forced himself to look up. “The history of it and what it involves. Everyone has been sort of vague. But you do not have to—”
“You like history?” Larin interrupted, clearly pleased to learn this for reasons Taji didn’t understand. “I am happy to give this to you. It would be my honor.”
Taji almost bit his tongue. He had heard that phrase, or something similar, at least once a day for months. But he had been hearing it wrong. He could see that now. Clearly, honor was more than a polite nicety, or Nikay would not be amused.
Taji also couldn’t help but notice Larin’s other choice of words. Shavians said ‘give’ in very particular ways, and they used it a lot when referring to shehzha.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Nikay had been attempting to woo Rinnah just now and possibly had been for a while. This manner of courting by giving might have been how any Shavian might have expressed interes
t in someone—or it might be something done with shehzha only, since Nikay seemed to think of Rinnah as one.
Larin was, seriously or not, showing the same interest in Taji, despite the fact that both he and Taji were supposed to be taken.
Taji was shaking. Tsomyal tried to get his attention but Taji couldn’t turn away from Larin, and Trenne’s breathing exercises probably did not work on scared humans.
“The Emperor’s Hunts were not begun by the Olea.” Larin gentled his tone as he began to explain. Taji needed to be calmed but didn’t want Larin to calm him, so he stood there, trembling and flushed hot and exposed, somehow, revealed as the frightened, emotional shehzha he’d been all along.
He raised his gaze to Larin’s. Larin looked at Taji as if they were alone, as if no one else existed. Which was a lie, something Larin proved in the next moment.
“Hunts are ancient,” Larin continued. “Artwork exists of hunts from across the sea, do they not, Rinnah?” Larin paused just long enough for his sister to quietly agree. “But after a conflict, the legendary Fahn Emperor brought members of several families out on a great hunt.”
Conflict could have meant anything from a small skirmish, to an uprising, to a coup or a civil war. Larin didn’t elaborate, although he must have seen the questions in Taji’s eyes.
“The north was lost to the empire at that time. But the head of the Tha’i’ilir and their Inri allies knew enough not to claim an empire of their own.” At the name Tha’i’ilir, Larin made an odd gesture, holding two fingers up to the sky and then lowering his hand toward the ground, which the others all did as well. “Fahn invited his enemies on a hunt, along with leading members of other houses who had taken advantage of the emperor’s distraction in the north to push their own soldiers forward, who could not lose honor and refuse. For several days, they hunted zarile—a dangerous animal, large and vicious. Many Sha were injured or lost in this first glorious hunt. But when it was over, the kills were given to the people, except for what was served to Fahn’s faithful nobles in the feast afterward.”
Taji had a feeling that the “many Sha injured or lost” were from the restless and ambitious families. But that was the sort of action that even the members of those families would have approved of, at least back in the more bloody days of the empire.
“Are you worried?” Larin studied Taji with concern. “An Emperor’s Hunt is much larger than what one person or a family might attempt, but it is an honor. A reward for the faithful, and a reminder of what we are. Although, we do not have zarile here.” Zarile was pronounced with an ‘uh’ sound at the end, like Trenne. Taji wondered distractedly if it was a hurat word or just very old. “We hunt as our ancestors did.” Larin reached out, not quite touching Taji’s chin although that didn’t stop Taji from rearing back. Larin only smiled as though that pleased him. “Do you have more questions?”
Of course Taji had more questions. “So you hunt barefoot? With only knives?” he asked, then took a deep breath. “In the Emperor’s Hunt, I mean. Or maybe the other ones. But there are rules, if not—” He had no idea how to say pageantry. “Um.” He licked his lips. “Shavians control their instincts and desires most of the time, so to be out there, essentially fighting for your life with just yourself and a simple weapon must be… intense. Good, I mean. Good for you. You are allowed to get dirty, and to stalk and kill as if you are wild. But in a contained, sanctioned way. With traditions to uphold, and rules, and a public show afterward.”
Taji nodded as he completed his thought. “A ritual, a way to relieve tension. And since whatever happens there is hidden from the rest of the world, it cannot create problems for anyone’s honor. Honor is still such a strange word to hear so much. I wonder if my translator is using the Anglisky ‘honor’ as a placeholder, or just the closest approximation to what you mean when you say ‘honor.’ Although that might not be relevant here. Sorry. I talk about words when I am nervous, and you are telling me that noble Shavians create a symbolic field of battle. The way some cultures use physical competitions between rival teams as stand-ins for—”
Taji shut himself up. No one was pretending they weren’t listening to him analyze an important aspect of their culture in a mish-mash of languages. Everyone was motionless, shocked or offended.
Trenne was probably having palpitations in his giant Shavian heart and didn’t know why. Nadir probably suddenly had the urge to laugh but also reach for his gun and would be turning to Nev in confusion. Taji never could stop talking fast enough. And naturally, Tsomyal hadn’t interfered. They wanted to see what Taji’s big mouth could stir up, which was a bold move considering Shavians had already attempted to kill Tsomyal once.
As if killing the ambassador would make IPTC go away.
“You and Nikay hunt together?” Taji tried to shift the subject to something less fraught.
“We will.” Larin glanced over his party guests. “Perhaps that is all, since my sister will not be joining us.”
Rinnah’s reasons for not participating were growing more interesting by the second. Taji’s muscles were beginning to ache with how tense he was. “Being invited to hunt with the emperor must be quite the compliment.” Or frightening, depending on what someone might have done to offend that emperor, and how capable that emperor was of defending their honor.
Taji’s gaze dropped to Larin’s knife, unsheathed and provocative.
Tsomyal squeezed Taji’s hand, hard, then let go with no other warning. Taji stared at them in confusion, but Tsomyal’s expression revealed nothing.
“Is everything set for tomorrow?” Larin turned to Rinnah, hopefully unaware of Taji’s heart pounding in his ears. “Your Inri is good at arranging these things, although of course, Inri have not been invited to a hunt in generations, so she may have missed some details.”
“Who could feel safe with an Inri at their back?” Gia wondered, making Nikay and a few others laugh. Gia’s jokes—if they were jokes—got worse with the more midye she consumed.
Mos was quiet, undisturbed by the insults—on the surface. Inside, she might be screaming, or centering herself over and over to stay calm until her state of outward composure was ingrained. The outcasts in the Sha world fought so hard to be Sha that they were often better at it than the nobles around them. It was likely why she would still dislike a hurat, or look down upon servants. Taji still wished he knew what she was thinking.
“Mos has taken care of everything,” Rinnah agreed calmly. Mos stayed behind her, the top of her head level with Rinnah’s cheek.
“If you need another to hunt with, Larin, I will.” Someone from the crowd spoke up, a tall pale figure in pink.
“With his skill, he will not need the help,” another joined in.
“He does not even need Nikay,” a third remarked, making Nikay look over sharply.
Eriat said something about teams that Taji only half-heard. Now that the others had permission to speak, the party had resumed again, with many pointed comments about the Olea in general and Larin in particular.
Larin was sure to do well tomorrow because of all his might and skill. The flattery was blatant enough that Taji was embarrassed on behalf of strangers. Nikay sneered something about age to Eriat, which Rinnah briefly cut off by calling for some more midye for Gia. But Nikay wasn’t done.
“Are you sure you will not stay here with Rinnah and the ambassador, Eriat? Leave the Koel honor to survive another day?” Nikay got louder, ensuring even Taji heard what was probably an insult—or a threat.
“It does seem an activity for the young,” Tsomyal broke in, gently, but harder than Taji would ever have expected. “I regret I cannot attend, but I have not been well for some time now.”
“The Koel will hunt,” Eriat insisted, as stiffly as ever.
“Except for dear Talfa,” Gia purred. She looked sadly to Talfa, and Taji spent a few moments trying to imagine who among the Koel in Laviias could hunt without getting hurt. Gia seemed the only option, unless others were here that Taji didn’t
know about.
“Why are shehzha not allowed?” Taji asked. Unless someone was in the throes of their neurochemical honeymoon phase, they should still be able to focus on a task like hunting. “Because they—we—are too precious to risk injuring, or because we cannot be touched?”
“They are a distraction,” Nikay snapped.
The tiny laugh that burst out of Taji was mostly an accident. “Surely the nobles of the most famous families can control themselves?” he scoffed. “Anyway, Talfa is not shehzha. And even if they were inclined to be, they are not with anyone right now. There is no eshe?” Taji glanced to Talfa, who was stunned and quiet, and then to Larin. “So, Talfa will hunt tomorrow?”
It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. It sounded like Taji making a demand by asking Larin to give him something. From a shehzha, that might as well be a demand. Larin had promised to give Taji what he wanted.
