02 - Nagash the Unbroken (9 page)

Of course, all the usual Imperial proprieties had to be observed. The
audience had begun with a lengthy recitation of the queen’s lineage, followed by
an even longer recitation of the ambassador’s ancestry. The ambassador, speaking
through his senior bureaucrat, then offered a very appreciative and long-winded
greeting, bestowing upon Neferata the acknowledgement of the Imperial Court and
the hopes of continued harmony with the City of the Dawn.

Tea was served. The strange Eastern concoction, served in tiny ceramic cups,
still tasted like little more than heated bathwater to Neferata, but she’d
learned to nod politely and listen with feigned appreciation as the ambassador’s
courtiers spoke at length of the refinement of the leaves and the delicacy of
its flavour.

Once the cups had been collected and a prayer offered to the Eastern gods in
thanks for the tea’s many blessings, it was time for the customary tokens of
esteem. Neferata accepted a fine Eastern bow and a quiver of arrows on behalf of
the king, as well as a half-dozen scrolls of poetry, three chests of fine silk
robes and a prince’s ransom in exotic spices from the far corners of the Empire.
This time the ambassador even brought a gift for the queen’s lovely cousin, whom
the king had required to attend the audiences as part of her courtly education.
A servant presented Khalida with a magnificent falcon, taken from the Emperor’s
personal stock. Evidently, the last ambassador had overheard Neferata’s pet name
for her cousin, confirming the queen’s suspicion that the delegates from the
Imperial court spoke perfectly good Nehekharan, and insisted on translators for
their own inscrutable reasons.

After presenting the gifts, a light meal of Eastern delicacies was served,
followed by more tea and polite conversation that lasted for two long hours.
Then came a period of digestion and restful contemplation that normally would be
accompanied by soft music or recitations of poetry. Neferata grimaced as the
droning of the priests continued, and wondered if perhaps the Eastern Empire’s
culture was on the decline.

Meeting with the delegates from the Eastern Empire was the only official
function left to Neferata. King Lamashizzar hadn’t opened the palace to his
citizens on the high holy days in many decades, and the temples no longer had
the power to influence court affairs as they once did, so Neferata now spent the
vast majority of her time locked inside the Women’s Palace. The only reason she
was still allowed to receive the Easterners was because Lamashizzar had never
had any patience for the Silk Lords’ tedious social rituals, yet couldn’t risk
offending his erstwhile allies by fobbing them off on one of his viziers. It was
the primary reason she’d been given so much authority when the king had taken
the army to Mahrak. At the time, the risk of a royal scandal paled in comparison
to a diplomatic incident with the Empire.

Since the war, official visits from the east generally only happened once a
year, when an Imperial delegation arrived to collect Lahmia’s annual payment for
the shiploads of iron and dragon-powder that Lamasheptra had purchased more than
a century before. The next scheduled payment wasn’t due for another three
months, so the unannounced arrival of an Imperial vessel had caused considerable
curiosity among the members of the Lahmian court.

Something
was definitely going on, the queen knew, studying the
resplendent figure of the Eastern ambassador. The Empire didn’t send a prince of
the blood all the way across the Crystal Sea on a mere social call.

Xia Ha Feng, August Personage of the First Celestial House and Scion of
Heaven, was young and very handsome, in the coldly detached manner that all the
Silk Lords affected. He was clad in layered robes of blue and yellow silk. The
outer robe was embroidered with sinuous, bearded serpents whose scales were
picked out in tiny garnets, and whose belly plates were fashioned from lustrous
mother-of-pearl. The prince’s raven-black hair was oiled and pulled back in a
severe topknot, and a circlet of gold rested upon his brow. Long, artificial
fingernails, also crafted of fine gold, capped all ten of the prince’s fingers.
Though a mark of refinement and wealth in the Silk Lands, the affectation seemed
sinister, even monstrous, to the queen. She wondered idly where the young prince
fell in the line of succession to the Imperial throne. Despite hundreds of years
of trade and diplomatic relations with the Silk Lands, the Eastern Empire was
still largely a mystery to the Lahmians. It was reputed to be vast in size, but
foreigners were forbidden to travel beyond a handful of sanctioned trade cities
situated along their western coast.

The Silk Lords claimed that their civilization was far older and more
advanced than that of the Nehekharans, but Neferata, like most Lahmians, doubted
the truth of this. If the Eastern Empire was so old and powerful, why were they
afraid to let foreigners see it?

All at once, the priests’ disquieting song came to an end. Rather than build
to a satisfactory conclusion, like proper music did, the droning simply
stopped.
The priests bowed low to the queen and swiftly withdrew. Neferata
blinked dazedly in the sudden silence, uncertain how to respond. She stole a
surreptitious glance at Khalida, who sat upon a lesser throne to Neferata’s
right. Over the last half-century, the little hawk had blossomed into a tall,
elegant young woman, though somehow she’d never outgrown her love for horses,
hunting and war. She remained one of Neferata’s favourites, though once the
queen had given birth to her own children they had grown inexorably apart. Soon
she would be leaving the City of the Dawn altogether, for Lamashizzar had
arranged her betrothal to Prince Anhur, the son of King Khepra of Lybaras,
during the last round of trade negotiations.

The young princess was sitting very straight in her chair. Like Neferata, her
face was hidden behind a serene golden mask, but the queen could see that her
chin was bobbing ever so slightly as she fought to stay awake.

As one, the Imperial delegates nodded their heads and gave a contented sigh
as the priests silently left the hall. The prince turned to the bureaucrat at
his right and spoke softly in his native tongue. The functionary listened
intently, then bowed his head to Neferata.

“The Scion of Heaven hopes that this gift of song is pleasing to your ears,
great queen,” he said in flawless Nehekharan. “The music of the mountain priests
is reserved only for the gods themselves, and those whom Heaven deems worthy.”

“I can’t imagine what I might have done to deserve such an honour,” Neferata
replied smoothly. She thought she heard a tiny, muffled snort of amusement from
her cousin. “The Scion of Heaven is as discerning as he is generous.”

The Eastern prince listened to the translation and inclined his head to the
queen. He spoke again, very softly, and the bureaucrat smiled. “The Scion of
Heaven would be honoured to share the gifts of the gods with you whenever you
desire, great queen.”

The statement sent a prickle of alarm racing up Neferata’s spine. “The Scion
of Heaven’s generosity is truly boundless,” she answered calmly. “The court is
always honoured to receive a visit from the Celestial Household, and we hope he
travels to Lahmia often in the coming years.”

As the functionary related the queen’s words, the prince smiled for the first
time. The look in his dark eyes as he spoke reminded Neferata very much of the
cold, predatory stare of the falcon he’d given to Khalida.

“The Scion of Heaven has no plans to travel in the foreseeable future, great
queen,” the bureaucrat replied. “And he is looking forward to sharing the fruits
of our civilization with you in the coming months.”

Neferata straightened slightly on the throne. “Do I misunderstand?” she
asked. “Are we to be graced with your august presence for a lengthy stay?”

This time the functionary didn’t bother to translate. “The Scion of Heaven
will take residence in Lahmia,” he replied. “His factors are seeking appropriate
lodgings near the palace even as we speak.”

For a moment, the queen forgot all sense of Eastern decorum. “Will he be
staying long?” she asked.

The bureaucrat frowned ever so slightly at the forwardness of such a direct
question, but he replied smoothly, “The Scion of Heaven wishes to broaden his
education of foreign cultures, and hopes to gain a deep understanding of your
ancient and noble traditions.”

He means years, Neferata thought with alarm. She hesitated, composing herself
and considered her reply. “This is unprecedented,” she said carefully. “And a
momentous event in the history of our two peoples.”

The prince’s smile widened as the bureaucrat translated. His reply was
delivered with carefully modulated deprecation. “The Celestial Household merely
wishes to become closer to our Western neighbours, and hopes to offer what
meagre aid we can in this time of transformation and rebirth.”

Neferata’s unease deepened. “We are naturally deeply grateful to the Emperor,
and appreciate his interest in our people’s wellbeing,” she replied.

The bureaucrat bowed deeply. “The Emperor of Heaven and Earth is a dutiful
son, and is responsible with the gifts that the gods bestow upon him,” he
replied. “A momentous event in Guanjian province has enriched the Empire, and he
has taken it as a sign from Heaven that he must turn his attentions to our
neighbours who are in need.”

“That is very comforting to know,” the queen replied, though she felt
anything but. “Might one inquire as to the nature of this blessed occurrence?”

The functionary beamed proudly. “Imperial surveyors have discovered gold in
the mountains of the province! Even the most pessimistic reports suggest that
the vein is larger than any found in the Empire’s history. Within two years,
three at most, the Imperial treasury expects to benefit from the gods’ great
bounty.”

Neferata felt her blood run cold. Now she understood the reason behind the
prince’s sudden arrival.

“Truly, the fortunes of the Celestial Household are a wonder to the rest of
the world,” she replied, as calmly as she could manage.

Prince Xian rose gracefully from his chair and clapped his hands together.
His translator bowed once again. “The Scion of Heaven thanks you for the
graciousness of your welcome, and hopes that this audience is but the first of
many to come.”

Neferata rose to her feet. “The august personage of Prince Xian is always
welcome,” she said, “and we hope that he will grace us again with his presence
soon.”

The queen remained standing as the prince and his entourage departed. When
they were gone, Khalida leaned back in her chair and sighed. “What an
insufferable bunch of fops,” she growled. “I think I fell asleep at some point
during the meal. Did I miss anything?”

Neferata drew in a deep, silent breath. “No, little hawk. You didn’t miss
anything at all.”

The prince’s message had been for her and the king alone. Among the Silk
Lords, even betrayal was delivered by polite implication.

Rain hissed against the thick glass windows, obscuring the view of the
predawn city and the sea beyond. Within the bedchamber, Neferata’s handmaidens
lay sleeping. Every now and then, one of them would whisper or sigh, deep in the
grips of a lotus-fuelled dream. The queen had pushed the bottle of dream-wine on
her maids, insisting that they should all drink a cup before she partook
herself. It was a rare luxury for the maids, who were expected to be ready to
serve the needs of the queen on a moment’s notice. Neferata appeared to sip from
her own cup, but scarcely let the bitter liquid touch her lips.

Tephret was the last to succumb. The elderly handmaiden had held on until
well past midnight, until finally Neferata had been forced to feign sleep
herself before Tephret would finally give in herself. The queen had lain in her
bed for several hours afterwards, grim thoughts whirling through her head as she
listened to the rain steal over the slumbering city. Finally, not long past the
hour of the dead, she rose and slipped on a robe, then lit a small oil lamp and
sat down at her writing desk.

The words had not come easily.
The Eastern devils have laid a trap for us,
she’d written in deft brushstrokes.
Within two to three years, the value
of gold in the Empire will plummet.

On the surface, the statement seemed innocent enough. She chewed the end of
the ink brush. Did she need to spell it out for Lamashizzar? She sighed.
As
a result, our annual payment to the Empire is certain to increase well beyond
our capability to pay.

What had possessed their late father Lamasheptra into entering such a
potentially disastrous deal with the Eastern Empire would remain a mystery for
the ages. He had concocted the scheme not long after Nagash seized the throne at
Khemri and made the queen—Lamasheptra’s daughter Neferem—his hostage. After
years of secret negotiations in the Imperial trade cities across the sea, the
Imperials agreed to share with Lahmia the same arms and armour that equipped
their own fearsome legions. This included enough of the Easterner’s mysterious
and explosive dragon-powder to equip an army of warriors, as well as weapons to
employ them, which alone would be enough to make Lamasheptra’s forces the
dominant military power in all of Nehekhara.

In return, the Emperor demanded a staggering sum, equivalent at the time to
ten tons of gold per year for the next
three hundred years,
and required
nothing less than the sovereignty of the city itself as security for the trade.
If Lahmia failed to make even
one
payment to the Empire, the city would
become an Imperial possession from that day forward. Lamasheptra accepted the
deal without qualm, despite the fact that the amount of money owed to the Empire
each year was greater than the city’s yearly tax revenue.