Fortunes of the Imperium (39 page)

CHAPTER 34

I held the Autocrat’s right hand in my left, as I traced the folds of pale orange skin with my right forefinger.

“This deep, straight one indicates the length of your life,” I said. “It corresponds to the long curved one on the human hand.” I showed her my life line.

“They are not the same shape,” Visoltia said, curiously. “I have never examined a human hand so closely.”

“I will show you the charts, and you may try your own interpretations on me,” I promised her. “And this is your heart line. Hmm. I see sorrow in your immediate past, about halfway back in your life, and at the very beginning.” I pointed out the three breaks in the shallow trough on her palm. She nodded.

“My father, two years back. My grandmother, when I was but nine summers. And my mother. I was so small I don’t even remember her. But you could have learned that from my Infogrid file.”

“But not this,” I said, seizing upon a tiny starburst of lines immediately below her third finger. “This marking is believed to indicate that you are devoted to those you make your friends. You are true to them no matter what.”

“But you have that same mark,” Visoltia said, pointing to a place on my upturned hand.

“Ah, but in human parlance, that is known as the Mystic Cross,” I said, raising my eyebrows impressively. “The ancient texts say that those with it have an open door to the infinite. Oh, and look at the lines on the side of your hand. In a human palm, I would say that meant you were going to have three children. The Uctu texts indicate that you have three severe trials of trust in your lifetime. Your other hand says that you have already suffered two of them. I would guess from what you have told me, and what I have read about you, that those are the loss of your father and grandfather.”

“You are far better than the official diviner, Lord Toliaus,” she said, her eyes large and solemn. “You must be very tuned in to the rhythms of the unseen dance.”

“I like to think so,” I said, beaming.

“The two of you must meet and discuss the infinite while you are here,” she said. “Often.”

“It is a rather large subject, but I will do as Your Serenity pleases,” I said.

“My turn!” Visoltia said eagerly. She reached across the bed, for indeed the enormous divan upon which we sat was her sleeping place. This was not a throne room, as I had previously divined, but the State Bedroom. We had been introduced to her at the Second Levee, following Her Serenity’s habitual nap during the hottest part of the afternoon.

The vast room had been abandoned by all but a few servants and my party. Rimbalius had departed with open reluctance, but he had left behind two guards, who stood a couple of meters off the edge of the bed, their hands on the butts of their weapons. They looked very uncomfortable to be present at a party of the informal level to which it had devolved. So too were Ambassador Galeckas and her assistant. The Autocrat’s nursemaid had beckoned them to join her at a polite remove so we could speak to them, but they could not easily overhear our private conversation.

For our part, I was very comfortable. I sat in the half-lotus position with the skirts of my robes around me. Jil and her ladies lounged on their sides around us, a couple paying attention to, even participating in, the festivities; the rest, including Jil, not. Our shoes were on the floor beside the bed. As a courtesy, one of the Autocrat’s ladies had furnished her with Visoltia’s smallest jewel box to fossick through for fun. Jil and Marquessa had spent the last hour or so trying on earrings, bracelets and necklaces. It seemed that the Uctu did not go in much for crowns or diadems, having already a crest of tiny, reddish scales that would have served well as a regal headpiece. Nor, lacking external ears, did they have a tradition of earrings.

One of the ladies anticipated her mistress’s needs and met the outstretched hand with a small bundle knotted into a gold silk handkerchief.

“I am surprised that all of you made it through the Room of Trust alive,” Visoltia said pleasantly, rooting through the bundle. “So many groups have lost a member out of panic.”

“Er, what happens to the ones who are lost?” Hopeli asked, trembling with understandable nervousness.

The Autocrat looked at her with a sad smile.

“I do not wish to mar this pleasant moment,” she said. “Those who are lost are doomed to perish. I am so glad that all of you were able to pass within. I have not enjoyed the presence of strangers so much in a long time.”

“Perish?” The girl’s voice trembled as she realized all of us had had a lucky escape.

“Is it your tradition to kill off visitors before you have even met them?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

“Only the ones whom the fates decree are not worthy of meeting me.”

“Good heavens,” I said. “That would shave a few hours off those long, dull welcoming ceremonies at home. I can see my cousins taking bets on the outcome.”

“It does not happen always,” the Autocrat said, with a simple upturning of her hand. “Once you know the secret, it is easy to enter. Perhaps too easy. But it is a tradition. No one who was here before is allowed to tell newcomers, in case they have bad intentions. The fates sort out those who mean me ill.”

I changed the subject with a deep clearing of my throat.

“I have many matters to bring to your attention from your brother my cousin,” I said.

Visoltia shook the bundle at me.

“Later. Don’t you want to know your prospects of love?”

“With an Uctu maiden?” I asked, as she removed several small objects from the silken handkerchief. That gave Visoltia another fit of the giggles.

“No! Unless that is what the fates decree.”

I was content for the moment to occupy myself learning her customs, as I felt they would give me greater insight into the Autocrat’s way of thinking. Visoltia touched one amulet after another to the back of my hand. Each was formed as an animal from somewhere in the Autocracy. Few bore a resemblance to Imperium creatures. Each charm was made of a different substance in a rainbow of colors.

“What are you trying to determine?” I asked, watching her with interest.

“If any of these match the texture of your skin, it tells me what kind of mate you seek,” she said. “Do you wish for a strong love, or a gentle one? Do you seek your equal, or would you prefer to serve or master? Will the one who is right for you come as a surprise, or is it one on whom you have had your eye?”

“At the moment, I am too busy for love,” I protested, but she continued to try each object against my skin.

“Perhaps you are,” Visoltia said, putting the last charm back into the silk bag. “I have exhausted the fetishes, and found none that are precisely like you.”

“That’s Thomas all over,” Jil said, amused. “He is exhausting.” The other ladies tittered once I explained the joke in Imperium Standard.

“That is not the correct word?” she asked me. “Lord Thomas!”

I brought my attention back to her.

“Your mind wanders,” Visoltia said, reproachfully.

“I beg your pardon,” I said. “I was trying to clear it, and it went off on its own to admire your lovely curtains.”

“No, all of the time,” she said, studying me with a wisdom that belied her youth. “Your mind is restless. It is the sign of a seeker. I knew you were the one to speak with me. You must stay as long as you can. It will be of great benefit to the Imperium and the Autocracy if you remain here. We shall be friends forever.”

“I do hope we will,” I said. “Our peoples are such near neighbors. With that in mind, Your Serenity, what is the reason for keeping our ships from crossing . . . ?”

“You are so well-versed in the occult arts,” Visoltia said. “What do you use to tell the future?”

I could tell that I was going to have to work the questions I needed to ask into context, but I was also pleased to discuss my enthusiasm.

“My favorite means of attempting to read the future is with a crystal ball, Your Serenity. It is quite a beauty, clear rock crystal and a perfect sphere, but Parsons, my aide-de-camp, whom you met—the tall, austere one—removed it from my luggage. Perhaps I should have seen that coming in the globe itself,” I added, with what I thought was admirable self-deprecation.

“Never fear, Thomas,” Visoltia said, with a winsome smile. “I have one.” She clapped her hands. A lithe female Uctu glided forward. She wore a gown that was a simplified version of her mistress’s. I assumed that meant she was a favorite.

“Tcocna, fetch the Eye of Wisdom.”

“I say!” I exclaimed. “You’ve named your crystal? I must come up with a title for mine.”

“It is a tradition here to give all things of importance to you a name,” she said.

I mused upon that. Symbolism in the Autocracy was of the same level of importance that it was to the Imperium. I had seen that mentioned in the histories that Parsons had forwarded to me.

“How delightful,” I said. “I think I will adopt the custom.” Visoltia looked pleased.

“Will you name your cameras, too, Thomas?” Jil asked.

I waved a hand dismissively. “No, no. They are only tools. I rarely go on lengthy photo shoots any longer. I save my attention for the contemplation of the infinite.”

“You have the attention span of a housefly, Thomas.”

“That is quite a compliment,” I said.

“Oh, dear, Thomas, all this involvement in the occult is warping your brain.”

“Not at all,” I countered. “Unless you have come across less involved houseflies than I have. All the ones that torment me are fixed absolutely on gaining access to the food or drink that I am determined to keep away from them. Therefore, a compliment.”

Jil rolled her eyes. The other ladies laughed, most likely at me, but Banitra’s dancing eyes told me she was with me. I was glad to have at least
one
ally, however perilous.

Shortly, a piping fanfare erupted outside the audience room. The Autocrat sat upright on her cushion, her blue spots brightening.

“The Eye of Wisdom arrives.”

The servant returned, her hands held flat to shield the sides of her eyes. Behind her, two male Uctu brought a litter into the room. On top of it was a draped bulge of a silhouette not unlike in size to that of my crystal ball, which I was determined that moment therefrom to name The Orb of Clarity. Behind them came a pair of robed Uctu playing a small metal drum and a fife. The young males approached the Autocrat and set the litter down before her on the bed. They withdrew, licking the center of their top lips to show that they were dying of curiosity and would prefer to have remained. The door closed behind them.

“Very impressive,” I said. “Our emperor’s possessions never enter the room with a musical escort.”

“The Eye requires due ceremony,” Visoltia said in all seriousness. She hesitated, then drew the cloth away. We gasped.

The sphere thus revealed was not a clear crystal like mine. Instead, it was a globe of swirled purple and red, rutilated with hair-thin rods of bright gold. Light shot off it in all directions.

The Autocrat peered up at me, almost shyly.

“What do you think?”

“That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever beheld, Your Serenity,” I said. “You made a spectacular choice of scrying globes.”

“It chose me,” she said. “Of a hundred spheres in the Chamber of Eyes, it called to me.”

“Are they all called eyes?” Jil asked, looking faintly sick.

“Always,” the Autocrat said. She beckoned to my cousin. “Sit down with me, Jilsin. Let me read your fate.”

“I’m not sure if there is anything left to read,” Jil said, without moving. “Thomas has been keeping me abreast of my stars and fortunes all the way here from Keinolt.”

“Jil, don’t say no. Think of the opportunity!” I said.

She kept her back turned toward me. I saw a priceless chance to allow her to bond with the Autocrat slipping away, but I was clearly not the right person to urge her to relent. Fortunately, Banitra caught my frantic gesturing and rose to the occasion and to her knees. She put an arm around Jil and urged her forward.

“My lady, what an honor! I wish that Her Excellence would see fit to offer me her wisdom. Please, let her do it. I would love to hear what she has to say!”

The Autocrat looked so hopeful that the other companions added their clamor. Since there is nothing in the universe Jil craved more than being the center of attention, she allowed herself to be persuaded. With a show of the deepest reluctance, which I did not believe in for a moment, she swung her legs around and sat facing the Autocrat and her glowing orb.