Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
“Very good. I’ll speak to her later today.” He glared at the fire as if willing it to increase the heat it supplied.
“And what of Neilach Drux?” Hoftstan suggested. “He’s had nothing to do since Nimuar disappeared, and as the Duz’s valet, he has full run of the Castle. I know he would like to help find his master.”
“I’ll talk to them both before the end of the day. If they’re willing to help, our work will be less obvious. No? But we won’t need to do all the observing ourselves, and that should make Pareo less diligent than he has been, don’t you think.” said Zhanf. “And speaking of diligence, I would like your help in calling in the spells on Ninianee’s animals.”
Hoftstan shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t like this means of keeping track of her.”
“Nor I, but it’s better than not knowing what has happened to her, wouldn’t you agree?” Zhanf said. “I don’t try every day, you know.”
“Yes. But it still makes me uneasy.” Hoftstan folded his arms. “All right. For Ninianee’s sake, I’ll help you.”
“Thank you,” said Zhanf with a trace of amusement in his eyes. “If you will bring the bowl?”
Hoftstan picked up the large crystal bowl and carried it to the table next to Zhanf, who rose and reached over the bowl.
“I’ll need the hot water, if you will bring it? Over the fire. You know where it is.” Zhanf closed his eyes and began to recite his viewing spell to determine if any emergency had occurred.
“I have the water,” said Hoftstan, holding up the small cauldron with thick mitts.
“Very good,” said Zhanf. “Pour it into the bowl, slowly. I don’t want it to crack.”
“Nor do I,” said Hoftstan, pouring with care.
Finally Zhanf held up his hand. “That’s sufficient,” he said, and resumed his spell, staring into the rising steam. After a little while he said, “I see them. They’re in a tent. It’s their third night in a tent on the road. They are out of the wind and snow, but they are short on food, and to get water, the Duzeon must heat snow in her cooking pot. The pony and mule are cold, even with their blankets on.” He paused, studying the images in the steam. “That’s odd. They’re bound northward. The Golozath Oracle must have said something that inclined Ninianee to be willing to take on the weather. If she is bound to the Crag, then she will not return until spring. Perhaps she had information on her father, or the Oracle set her a test to earn more knowledge? I wish I had her talent for communicating with animals. I could learn much more. Well, so be it.” He sagged as he finished this, waved his hands to disperse the steam, then sank into his chair. “It is full winter where they are.”
“If they’re bound north, won’t that take her into the territory of the Bindomaj?” Hoftstan asked. He had had little association with the half-bat, half-human creatures but he had heard all the tales about them, and none of them was comforting. “Do you think the Oracle sent her that way?”
“Yes.” He thought about what this could mean. “Chogrun is Hircaj there, and his people keep Court in his city, called Chamirjen. I know very little about the place, beyond what I’ve heard from northern travelers,” said Zhanf, concerned that the Bindomaj could be dangerous not only for Ninianee but for Doms Guyon, who continued to follow her.
“Hircaj is a grand title for such a ferocious barbarian,” said Hoftstan. “If Duz Nimuar is there, who knows what could have become of him by now?”
“That is what Ninianee will try to discover, I would guess,” said Zhanf but without much confidence.
“And what will become of her in such a Court?” Hoftstan asked. “It is hard enough for Erianthee in Tiumboj, but for Ninianee, there must be greater dangers, away from everything, and the winter early.”
“But didn’t you think it was a possibility that she would go to Chamirjen? She was bound for the Boarth Range, and isn’t much of that Bindomaj territory?” Zhanf asked. “We knew that Nimuar didn’t go toward the Porzalk Empire, and didn’t leave on any ship in the harbor of Valdihovee, so that left the lands to the north, and that includes Cazboarth. Why are you so surprised to learn that she has gone that way?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m surprised,” said Hoftstan. “I am . . . perturbed. If only we could find out what the Oracle told her.”
‘That would be useful,” said Zhanf.
“Can’t you do something? Make a spell? Appeal to one of the gods and goddesses?” Hoftstan held up his hands. “I know you can’t.”
“Not so long as she has protective spells around her,” he said, thinking that at least Doms Guyon was following her.
“But don’t you have an obligation to guard her, as I do?”
“Only to the limits of my promises,” said Zhanf, blinking as if to emphasize his understanding.
“Then who is to say what will become of her?” Hoftstan asked, not expecting an answer.
“I would think her father has some notion of her situation, however remote it may be.” Zhanf sighed as if wanting to be rid of a burden. “But he is missing, you say, and we don’t know where he has gone, or why, which makes our situation difficult. Yes, we both understand the problems. Still, I know the power Duz Nimuar’s talents commanded of old, and I trust they are not completely gone, no matter what Yulko Bihn did so long ago. If the least vestige remains of his talents, he will cast spells over his daughter that will preserve her from harm while she seeks him. And we mustn’t forget that Ninianee has talents of her own, so she need not rely on the protections of her father. If she abandons her search, she may also lose the protection of Nimuar’s spells, but I wouldn’t think that Ninianee would do that.”
Hoftstan rounded on Zhanf. “You know something,” he accused.
Zhanf answered heavily, “I surmise, I do not know. I wish I did. I can only consider what Nimuar accomplished before his attack, and assume he still possess some of his talents, which were considerable when he was young. I used to be jealous of him, you know.”
Hoftstan looked at him, puzzled. “When was that?”
“In school.” Zhanf shrugged. “Long ago.”
“Oh. You mean when you were children, not just youths.”
“Yes, from childhood. After all, he and I trained together.” Then he snapped his fingers. “There is nothing more I can do to follow Ninianee now, so I will try to find out what Rai Pareo is doing here, and I will arrange to have him watched, which are things I can do, and I will trust that Nimuar is not wholly lost.”
“And if he is, what then?” Hoftstan’s question hung between them, making them both uneasy.
Finally Zhanf answered, “Then we are all in much more danger than anyone thought.”
* * *
At the end of her second day at Tiumboj, Erianthee was summoned to Riast’s Grand Reception Chamber for an official welcome to Court. It was a formal occasion, one where a fair number of courtiers were in attendance on the morose middle-aged man who was the Emperor of the Porzalk Empire. Everyone in the Grand Reception Chamber was turned out in the height of Courtly fashion in accordance with the nature of the event, the men in jeweled velvet dezhups, the women in elaborate serinels with seed-pearls and opals sewn into the sleeves and high bodices. Riast himself wore a dezhups the color of lantern-fruit, with golden embroidery of the Porzalk device – a rampant xanji – on the front and back of the dezhups. The square sleeves were lined in iridescent silk from Niegee, his fingers were encrusted with rings and his shoes sparkled with topazes. His crown was comprised of nine rampant golden xanji circling his brow, each one holding a jewel in its paws. He was flanked by his current Empress and the Dowager Empress, both women as grandly arrayed as Riast, both with crowns of silver to match his gold one. Riast’s heir, Prince Bozidar, was conspicuously absent from the ceremony. Behind the throne stood Yulko Bihn, magnificent in a gaihups of iris-blue tongue-satin ornamented with sprays of silver embroidery as if he had been struck by lightning. He wore an elaborate collar of gold links and carried the staff of his office of Imperial Magician.
The major presentations of dignitaries for the Zunah had already occurred, and there was a lull in the occasion as the introduction of Imperial guests began. A consort of musicians stopped their playing. From his post at the door, Haverdin Zomercaz, the Court herald, sounded his two chimes as he announced, “Give welcome to the Imperial guest, Erianthee, Duzeon of Vildecaz,” and offered a full Court respect as Erianthee entered the Chamber.
Erianthee was splendid in a serinel of dark-amber plush-velvet from Lenj, with bell-sleeves and a high waist. The bodice was sewn with rubies from Waniat, and the coronet she wore was studded with Valdihovee pearls. Ten steps from the dais, she stopped and gave a profound respect to Riast II, to the Dowager Empress Godrienee, and to Empress Aiolenee. “I thank you for summoning me, Emperor Riast. May all the gods and goddesses look upon you and Porzalk with favor.”
“A gracious sentiment,” Riast approved as if this were an entirely new pronouncement rather than Court ritual. “May you find your stay at Court rewarding.”
The chimes sounded twice. “Give welcome to Imperial escort, Hajmindor Elet, Goriach of Udugan.”
Hajmindor had donned full Court regalia but he still had the appearance of man more at home in a pelgar and hunting saddle than in a fur-trimmed dezhup at this Imperial Reception. He strode forward, his arms swinging vigorously, his deportment filled with impatience even as he offered his respect to the three on the dais. “I thank you for giving me the opportunity to serve you and Porzalk,” he said without a trace of sincerity, then added as kind of afterthought, “May all the gods and goddesses favor you and your House.”
“And I thank you for bringing the Imperial guest to Court, in fulfillment of the mission given you,” said Riast, departing a little from the formula as a sign of Imperial gratitude, and to show he wasn’t offended by Elet’s laxity. “May you find your stay at Court rewarding.”
“Oh, I plan it to be,” said Elet, breaking all the rules of Court receptions, every aspect of his body and stance showing his disdain. He paid no attention to the glare directed toward him, but respected Riast and went off to the Guests’ Gallery, leaving Erianthee alone before the dais.
“A most unseemly display,” said Godrienee to her in an under-voice. She motioned to Erianthee to approach her. “Stay here, Duzeon. There are questions for you.”
Two more Imperial guests were presented – one from Niegee, one from Ayo – and the most official part of the evening was over, giving those attending the opportunity to move and talk among themselves, to show off their magnificent garments and to indulge in Courtly competition.
Satisfied that they were no longer the center of attention, Godrienee turned to Erianthee. “Was the Goraich’s conduct typical of his escort, or is he merely being churlish for my son?”
“I fear it was his demeanor throughout our journey, Dowager Empress,” said Erianthee.
“That’s unfortunate.” She glared up at Yulko Bihn. “This Elet was your recommendation, wasn’t it, Magsto?”
Yulko Bihn respected Godrienee but avoided looking directly at her. “I have found him a useful sort, especially for arduous tasks, such as the escort might have proved to be, but I may have misjudged the man.”
“How is that possible?” Godrienee asked sarcastically, and motioned him to step back from her throne, which, after a long moment, he did. “I apologize, Duzeon, for the escort you endured.”
“The first part of the journey my escort was Kloveon of Fauthsku, but he wasn’t asked to come to Court this time.” She did her best not to sound disappointed. “He was easier to travel with.”
“I should think so,” said Godrienee. “Do you know why Kloveon has not been invited to Court?”
“No. I believe it has something to do with concerns about the League of Korzareon Cities and Fauthsku – there has been trouble in the last few years?” Erianthee did her best to reveal little of what she thought of this explanation, but Godrienee wasn’t misled.
“Very curious,” she said, and lowered her voice so that Erianthee had to lean forward to hear her. “The Magstee of the Agnitheon is here for the Zunah and would like to meet with you. I’ll arrange it if you are willing to speak with her.”
“Certainly,” said Erianthee, startled by such an unexpected distinction. “I am at your disposal.”
“My messenger will bring you word tomorrow before you perform as to when we shall meet, and where. She won’t attend Court tonight, and she has certain officials she is not eager to see, which is why Dinenniet Meanaj has asked for me to arrange your meeting away from any grand event.” She was about to say more when Riast motioned to Erianthee to approach him.
“Emperor,” she said, respecting him. She could see dark shadows around his eyes and the sad turn of his mouth.
“I trust you are rested enough to perform for us tomorrow evening? I know you prefer to have a little more time to restore yourself, but as you have arrived later than expected . . . ” He smiled but there was little emotion in his eyes. “There is the first Zunah banquet tomorrow and your Shadowshow would be the most welcome entertainment.”
Knowing what was required of her, Erianthee said, “Of course I will be sufficiently rested, and I apologize for my delay in arriving. Due to my father’s disappearance, it was unavoidable.”
“I have heard about your father,” said Riast quietly while Yulko Bihn loomed over them. “A most lamentable development.”
“It is kind of you to say so; we are still in hopes of finding him before the end of winter,” said Erianthee, and before the Emperor prodded her for more information about Nimuar, went on smoothly, “If you have some preference for the nature of the Shadowshow, I would very much appreciate it if you would inform me, so I may ready myself for the performance.”