Emperor Mage (15 page)

"
What courtyard?"

"It
was right off that walk where you left me." She looked around, and gaped.
The trees, the walk, the five soldiers—all had vanished. Instead they were at
the top of a long, dusty street, with no courtyards or fountains in sight.
Buildings, each with a statue over the door, lined the avenue. At its far end
loomed a big temple-like structure with a golden dome. "Where are
we?"

"The
Sacred District." Kaddar yanked out a handkerchief and wiped his sweaty
face, patting carefully to avoid smearing the paint that lined his eyes.
"And you couldn't have seen it from where we were, because it's a quarter
mile away from there. You've been here before, haven't you?"

She
stared up at him. "Are you crazy? I've never been to Carthak in my
life." The additional thought—that she was starting to wish she hadn't
come now—she kept to herself.

"Nonsense.
You walked as if you were born here. And you didn't stop for me! Don't you
realize you can't run around here without an escort?"

Daine
blotted her own face on her sleeve. The direct sun was brutal without trees to
shield them. "I didn't walk here. I saw the old slave woman by the
fountain, and I was trying to reach her. Do you know who she is? An old woman,
about my height? I thought she was a slave. Yesterday she straightened my
room—"

Kaddar's
eyebrows snapped together. "Why would I care about any slave, young or
old?"

Daine
felt as if she'd been punched. She fiddled with the cuffs on her shirt and
collected herself. At last she said quietly, "Because I thought you were a
decent human being."

Kaddar
scowled and walked away for a few paces, rubbing the back of his neck.

All
right, Daine told herself, it's plain the old woman isn't a slave. A slave
wouldn't feed rats, or dice with Rikash. And I'm sorry he's in a pet, but I did
think maybe he cared more about other people than some of them that live here.

None of
the furred ones care about no-furs— what you call slaves, said Zek. That is,
they care when they hit the slaves, and that's all. The slaves work and try not
to make the furred ones notice them. When furred ones—

Owners,
Daine told him silently, to keep the prince from hearing. Two-leggers with
fur—with hair—who order slaves to do work are the owners of the slaves.

Like
the Monsterboy owned me:1 asked the marmoset.

The
girl petted him gently. It's much the same.

Kaddar
had mastered himself. "I'm sorry if I

was
rude," he said as he returned, his voice cold and

clipped.
"You must understand, I'm responsible for

you. If
any harm came to you, my uncle would be—

displeased.
And your old woman cannot be a slave. When palace slaves reach a certain age,
they are given tasks better suited to them, in the weaving rooms or warehouses
or nurseries. The slaves in the guest quarters, and the imperial and nobles'
quarters, are young. Now, if you please, you asked to see our chapels."

Kitten
made an extremely rude noise. For a moment Daine thought the prince would lose
his temper again. He fought the urge, and smiled at last. "She knows what
that sound means?"

"She
knows the meaning of every sound she makes." Daine tried on a smile of her
own as she got to her feet. After hearing that the old weren't allowed to work
where they would be seen by anyone important, she knew it wasn't a good smile,
but Kaddar accepted it.

He
guided her into the first of a series of small chapels. This was dedicated to a
god of the inner desert, far to the south, and a statue made of red sandstone
was placed over the altar.

While
statues and altars changed from building to building, certain things were the
same everywhere. Dust lay in corners and under what few benches or offering
tables remained. Daine saw none of the things she expected to see: incense,
flowers, candles, lamps. The air in these houses of worship was stale and
unmoving. The dust in the shrine dedicated to the Threefold Goddess was so

thick
that Daine couldn't make out the details of the wall mosaics.

There
were exceptions to the lack of offerings. The Trickster, god of thieves and
players, presided over an altar where lay scattered playing cards and a few
wilted bouquets of weeds. Several someones had left shells or bits of coral for
the Wave Walker, but the gilt on the sea goddess's statue was peeling. Hidden
behind the altar of Shakith, goddess of seers, were a score of candle stubs and
a battered lamp. For Gainel, the Master of Dream, Kitten found two
lavender-stuffed packets, too small to be called pillows, concealed under a bench.

"Are
these less-known temples?" Daine asked. "Are there others—more
popular ones?"

Kaddar's
smile was crooked. "These are the only palace temples. The ones in the
city are not in such bad shape as these."

Only
Mithros s temple, the one with the golden dome, had serving priests—a three-man
staff, explained Kaddar, with two boys as acolytes. All of them came running to
greet their guests by dropping to their knees and touching their heads to the
ground, a gesture that made Daine uncomfortable. Priests of any god should only
bow to other humans, not genuflect as the Carthakis expected their slaves to
do.

This
temple was in better condition. Brightly polished sun disks caught outdoor
light and reflected it into the sanctuary, but streaks of soot above wall
brackets told her that light after sunset came not from lamps or candles, but
inexpensive torches. She smelled incense burning, and freshly cut flowers lay
on the large altar, but the priests were underfed.

Once
they'd looked around, Kaddar led her toward the back of the temple, past the
altar. "Where are we going?" she asked "Aren't we returning the
way we came?"

"There's
one more," explained the prince, "Mithros is the best known, and the
king of the gods, but our empire had its own, personal goddess. Uncle built her
a temple behind Mithross house, so he could make offerings to her once he was
finished with his duties as the Sun Lord's high priest."

Passing
through a small door, they entered a long, open gallery. At its end was a door
inlaid with a patter of black-and-scarlet dice. Statues of hyenas sat on either
side of the portal. A group of three rats sat over it.

Daine
looked at those carvings for so long that Kaddar had to reach back and pull her
through the entrance. Inside, the air held a faint odor of perfumes, but the
silver candlesticks and chalices on the altar were tarnished, and the floor was
unswept,

Behind
the altar was the image of the temples goddess, the most unusual statue Daine
had ever seen. For one thing, hyenas and rats crouched at her

feet
like pets. One hyena held a dice box in its jaws, while two rats offered a die
each to their mistress.

Except
for the Threefold Goddess in her third aspect of the Hag, or Crone, goddesses
tended to be young or mature women. This one did not show wisdom or grace as
statues of the aged Goddess did. This Hag was bent, leaning on a gnarled stick,
grinning so widely that the onlooker could see that she had only a few teeth
left. Her eyebrows were bushy; one of them was cut in two by the strip of an
eye patch.

Daine
and Kitten stared at it, gape-mouthed, while Zek chittered his shock.

"What
is it?" asked Kaddar, bewildered. "Daine? What's the matter?"

"It's—I
think it is. I can't say for sure, with her hood up, and being stone, not
colored like a—"

"What
   
an
  
you
   
talking
   
about?"
   
Kaddar demanded.

"Her.
It's—" She was about to say "the slave" when her throat closed
off, and she half swallowed her tongue. She choked, then coughed until her eyes

ran,

"Are
you all right?" The prince thumped her between the shoulder blades.
"Would you like water, or something else to drink?"

Daine
shook her head. "I'm fine," she gasped. "I was just going to
say, that statue—"

Coughs
erupted, tearing at her throat. Both her

nose
and eyes ran this time. Whenever she thought she was better, each time she
tried to explain about the resemblance between the slave and the Graveyard Hag,
she began to hack as if she had lung disease. The explosions didn't let up
until Kaddar took her outside, into a garden. She sat on a bench and took deep
breaths through her nose, while the prince went to find water for her.

I know
what this is, Daine thought furiously, clenching her teeth to stop the
explosions. She thinks she can silence me this way. What I'm going to say to
her the next time we meet...

Who are
you talking to? asked Zek, confused. Her. That—Hag these southerners worship.
I'm coughing
 
because
  
she
  
doesn't
 
want
 
me
  
telling Kaddar she's been about!

Then
don't say anything, if she doesn't like it, Zek said. Our gods, Chrrik and
Preet, don't like us talking about them to outsiders.

Daine
blew her nose. Chrrik and Preet? Chrrik is the first male of the pygmy
marmosets, explained Zek. Preet is his mate. They are very private gods.

Daine
ran a finger down the marmosets varicolored fur. That I can believe, she told
him. But from all Numair has said this is not a private goddess, and she cannot
play with me! I don't know why she's here and showing herself to me, but she
can either let me speak out or leave me alone!

She
doesn't only show herself to you, Zek pointed out. She was talking to the Big
Stinker— Rikash—and to the rats.

Kitten,
following the conversation, nodded vigorously. The girl scowled. They were right.
Moreover, Rikash had acted like the old lady was someone important.

"And
he didn't tell me who she was," she remarked aloud, her voice a croak.
"Maybe he couldn't. But why stop me from talking about her?"

"What
did you say?" Kaddar had returned. With him came a young slave bearing a
tray, a pitcher, and two cups. "I thought grape juice might help." At
his nod, the boy put the tray on a nearby bench and poured juice for both of
them. Once he presented the cups to Daine and Kaddar, the prince ordered,
"Leave us, but don't forget to return and clean this up."

"Thank
you," Daine told the boy with a smile. He bowed deeply and retreated,
still bowing.

"Perhaps
your body reacted to the incense or flowers in the temples," Kaddar
remarked when Daine emptied her cup. "My life is a misery with sneezes and
coughing at haying time, and my mother cannot be near roses without her eyes
watering.

Daine
knew her problem had a very different cause, but she appreciated his concern.
"I feel better now, thank you," she told him, thinking that seemingly
she'd go on feeling better if she didn't tell anyone their Hag was out and
about.'

"No
doubt you're wondering about the temples." He didn't meet her eyes, but
fiddled instead with his ruby-drop earring.

"Perhaps
folk here keep shrines in their homes?"

Kaddar
shook his head. "I wish I could explain. There is no good—never
mind,"

"What's
the matter?" Daine asked. "Is something bothering you?"

Kaddar
shook his head and put a finger to his lips. The girl frowned, not
understanding. With a sigh, he reached up and tugged his ears. Pale green
magical fire sparkled around his fingers.

Magic?
Ears? Daine thought, then remembered Duke Gareth s warnings, "There's no
listening spells on MS, Your Highness. Kitten wouldn't allow it."