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Authors: Mark Robson

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Towards the top of the hill, Femke spotted three men walking into one of the larger dwellings. For an instant she could have sworn that the middle one of the three was Shalidar. A shiver went
through her before common sense began to reassert itself. The chances of Shalidar being here in Mantor and walking within sight of Femke were preposterously slim. The resemblance was remarkable,
but had to be coincidence. As the man and his associates slipped inside the building, Femke berated herself for being skittish.

‘Focus, Femke,’ she ordered herself sternly. ‘You haven’t time for foolishness.’

When they reached the Palace there were the normal bureaucratic delays. Firstly, at the main gate the Royal Guards insisted on fetching the Captain before escorting them inside the Palace walls.
When they walked up the great steps Femke marvelled at the grand, columned frontage. The stone steps climbed between two rows of shaped ornamental shrubs, before passing under a line of huge Royal
banners that hung from horizontal flagpoles sticking out from the high rooftop.

Before climbing the steps between the two central columns to the main doors, a backward glance rewarded her with an amazing view of the city spread below. Her wonder at this sight was
interrupted by an odiously formal, immaculately-dressed man named Krider, who met them at the doors. He quizzed Femke on the nature of her visit, before insisting the three small chests of gifts
from Emperor Surabar be emptied and thoroughly searched. These were then refilled and returned. Krider watched over every detail of this with hawk-like precision before directing other less senior
members of the Royal household staff to take Femke and her companions to suitable waiting rooms. Femke and the others took the opportunity to get cleaned up and to change from their travel clothing
into more formal wear for their audience with the King.

The Shandese Ambassadorial party were not left alone for a second. At every step of the way from their entry into Mantor until they finally walked into the King’s audience chamber, someone
maintained a watch over them. Afterwards, Femke realised it was not the constant monitoring that bothered her, but that not one of the faces was smiling, or pleased to see her. The first time Femke
felt a hint of warmth was when she entered the King’s presence. But even then, the feeling was guarded.

The Chief Butler, Veldan, escorted Femke and her three chosen gift-bearers to the King’s audience chamber. Veldan was cool in manner, but not hostile. To Veldan, Femke was simply another
person to introduce to his Majesty, the King.

‘May I present Lady Femke, Ambassador of Shandar, your Majesty,’ Veldan announced. The waiting was over and her stomach churned with nervous anticipation.

I should not be nervous she told herself silently. I walk into Emperor Surabar’s study without a second thought. This is no different.

It
was
different, of course, but Femke controlled her nerves and smiled with every ounce of friendliness that she could muster as she entered the King’s chamber. To her relief the
King smiled back with what looked to be a measure of genuine pleasure. King Malo was not alone and Femke took the opportunity to do a lightning scan of the room as she curtsied.

‘Welcome, Lady Femke. It’s always a pleasure to receive a
peaceful
emissary from our nearest neighbours. What brings you to my humble Kingdom?’ the King asked. His tone
was friendly, holding warmth blended with a tinge of irony.

Femke studied his face, which looked benevolent and wise. King Malo wore his age well. His silver hair complemented his simple gold crown. He sat straight, his eyes bright with intelligence.
There was no place for unnecessary lies here, Femke realised.

One close aide, two armed guards at the door and a young man who could be the King’s son sitting to one side, she noted. And Veldan, she added, completing her mental list by accounting for
the footsteps behind her.

‘Your Majesty, his Imperial Majesty, Surabar, the
new
Emperor of Shandar, sends greetings and offers gifts of compensation for the recent unwarranted invasion of your Sovereign
territory. He wishes to convey his apologies on behalf of the Empire and to seek a way of initiating a new era of trade and cooperation with Thrandor,’ she announced, pleased that she managed
to inject both confidence and warmth into her tone. With a wave of her hand, Sidis, Kalheen and Phagen stepped forward and opened the boxes of treasure they bore.

Femke was gratified to see the slight raise of the King’s eyebrows, indicating genuine surprise at the contents of the small chests. Surely Krider, or one of his other servants, would have
briefed him on the contents of the chests, she thought. But apparently not, she concluded. Unless the King is a better actor than I am a judge of expression.

She noticed the King glance across at the young man with fair hair who sat to one side of the chamber. The slightest of nods from him brought a smile to the King’s face. I wonder what that
was all about? Femke’s mind raced with possibilities. From that look, the young man seems in too superior a position here to be the King’s son. Could the youth be Lord Shanier, the
Sorcerer who outwitted Lord Vallaine and destroyed the Shandese invasion force? He looks younger than I am! Femke knew she looked younger than her twenty years unless she deliberately disguised her
age. Perhaps this man was the same. He appears too young to be a threat, making him all the more dangerous, she mused to herself. Youth had often proved a useful deceptive tool when hiding her
abilities, so she found a certain empathy with the young Sorcerer – if Sorcerer he was.

As a mistress of disguise herself, Femke could appreciate the benefits of Shanier’s apparent youthfulness, but she knew it was possible she was not seeing Shanier’s true appearance.
Lord Vallaine had fooled everyone, Femke included, into thinking he was the Emperor of Shandar for months. If the rumours were true, Shanier wielded powers of sorcery even greater than Vallaine.
Who could say what he was capable of?

‘Lady Femke, I gladly accept these tokens from Emperor Surabar and I shall in due course provide you with a suitable response to his overture of peace. These last few months have been
difficult times for us all, but Thrandor has always tried to court peace with its neighbours. I would do my subjects a great disservice if I were to turn aside such a proposal now. Be welcome in my
Palace. Veldan will find you suitable quarters. I’m sure you’re tired after your journey and I understand you’ve had no time to rest since reaching the city. Go and rest now.
We’ll talk again tomorrow. I would like to hear more of Emperor Surabar, and would value the chance to learn of his plans for peace and increased trade.’

‘Certainly, your Majesty,’ Femke answered, still smiling. ‘Thank you for your kind welcome. It is most generous, given the wrongs inflicted on you by my people recently. I
place myself at your service for as long as I remain here, your Majesty, though I fear my stay will be brief on this occasion. His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Surabar, is keen to hear your reply to
his offer of peace, and I am bound to his call.’

King Malo inclined his head in acknowledgement, pursing his lips a little before replying.

‘I understand, Ambassador. I would wish the same given his position. For now, though, be welcome. You may wander the Palace and its grounds at will, for none will harm you within the
walls. However, if you or your men wish to venture out into the city, then I insist you take an escort – for your own safety, you understand? There are those amongst my people who have lost
loved ones recently. Blood still runs hot with thoughts of vengeance. Let’s not give unnecessary chances to those who might do something foolish in the heat of the moment.’

‘That sounds a most wise precaution, your Majesty. Until tomorrow,’ Femke replied, once again dipping in a deep curtsy before turning and walking out through the door that Veldan was
quick to open for her.

The Chief Butler led her to the West Wing of the Palace and showed her to a suite of rooms on the first floor that boasted luxury greater than any Femke had ever enjoyed. Even when playing the
role of Lady Alyssa, Femke had never inhabited an apartment like this.

The living area was huge, with beautiful chairs and tables arranged in a casual fashion around the room. Rich hangings and exquisite paintings adorned the walls, whilst a soft, thickly piled and
intricately patterned carpet covered the floor from wall to wall. There were two bookcases laden with many leather-bound volumes, a writing bureau and a large open fireplace. The grate was set with
kindling and a good supply of logs was stacked in a special recess in the wall nearby. Oil lamps, both in corner stands and on available surfaces, promised plenty of light in the evening and
generous vases of flowers and bowls of fruit, together with other small snacks, were evident around the room. The bedroom and the bathing rooms were yet more sumptuous. Femke was hard pressed not
to laugh when Veldan asked if the rooms were to her liking.

‘They are most comfortable, thank you, Veldan,’ she replied, careful to keep her voice composed and her face perfectly straight. ‘I would like to take a bath, if that would be
possible? Could you arrange for someone to bring hot water for me please?’

‘No need to have it brought by hand, Lady Femke. We have some clever people in Mantor. One of them earned a knighthood some years ago when he developed a system of pumping hot water
through pipes directly to the baths. I’ll send in someone to operate the pump for you and your bath should be full in a few minutes.’

‘Thank you, Veldan, I will watch the procedure with interest. If this pump proves as efficient as you say, I would like to meet this knight. Do you think he would consider a commission to
fit the Imperial Palace in Shandrim? I’m sure his Imperial Majesty would love to stop all the staff traipsing around his Palace with pails of water.’

‘Who knows, my Lady, who knows?’ Veldan said with a wry smile. ‘If you desire anything else, then please pull the bell rope in the corner.’

‘One last thing, Veldan,’ Femke called hastily as the butler started to leave. ‘Where are the rest of my party quartered, please?’

‘They’re in the South Annex, my Lady. The guest quarters there are not quite fitted to the same standard as these, but I can assure you they will not find their accommodation
wanting,’ Veldan replied. Looking around her room, Femke did not doubt his word.

‘I’m sure you’ll look after them admirably, Veldan. I was merely thinking I would like to talk with them occasionally. I will have instructions for them during our stay,
concerning preparations for our return,’ she said, her expression warm. Then she dropped her voice into a mock conspiratorial whisper. ‘Mainly in the form of a shopping list of
souvenirs.’

‘Of course,’ Veldan said, clearly amused at her confession. ‘Simply ring the bell. Your room servant will lead you there at your request.’

‘Thank you kindly, Veldan, you’ve been most helpful.’

‘My pleasure, Lady Femke.’

Veldan departed and Femke marvelled again at the size of the huge sunken marble tub in the bathing room. It would afford her more of a swim than a bath, she decided with a shiver of
anticipation. It amazed her that something so heavy would be fitted in an upper-storey room, but it certainly fitted the surroundings. The entire Palace had been decorated on a grand scale.

Force of habit made her check the rooms for signs of concealed entrances, spy-holes and escape routes. To her surprise, Femke found no sign of surveillance points. Either the King did not see
fit to monitor his guests, or the spy points were so well disguised that Femke could not locate them. After her second sweep of the suite, Femke dismissed the second option and concluded that the
King’s spy network, if indeed he had one, was not operating on the same scale as the one in Shandrim. Intrigue and plotting were a way of life to the Shandese.

Femke was delighted with the results of her search. It would make her job here easier. With no organised spy network to contend with, the Thrandorians had effectively handed her the keys to the
Palace and said, ‘Go ahead, take whatever you need.’

Reynik was disappointed not to meet the King of Thrandor. To ride all this way and then be excluded from the main event was galling. He was still not sure that coming to the
attention of Emperor Surabar during the fight after the coronation ceremony had been a good thing. He had worked so hard to get into the General’s Elite Legion. Now, before he had even begun
to settle in, he had been yanked from the ranks to play travel guard for a Lady Ambassador.

Ambassador Femke was pleasant enough. Reynik knew it was not her fault he was here, but he was frustrated that his time in the General’s Legion had started with such a duty. Some of his
fellow soldiers had been jealous of his opportunity to see Mantor. This would inevitably create friction upon his return, which was never a good thing as the new boy. All he could hope was that he
would gain experience from this trip that would prove useful to his career.

Sidis had been a miserable travelling companion. The sour-faced old File Leader had stifled any prospect of fun. Reynik suspected that had Sidis been more genial, the Ambassador would have made
pleasant company. As it was, the entire two weeks had felt like slow torture. And what was more, Sidis had not wanted to engage in weapons practice, so Reynik felt sadly stiff and unfulfilled.

Servants led Reynik through the Palace to his quarters. The place was a maze. He would get lost here for sure, he thought grimly. However, when they opened the door to his room, Reynik could not
help but smile. It was more luxurious than anything he’d known in Shandar. Perhaps the trip would not be so bad after all, he mused.

BOOK: Imperial Spy
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