The Black Shriving (Chronicles of the Black Gate Book 2) (49 page)

"That would be most welcome, Patrician. Thank you." Iskra curtseyed again, then made a subtle pressure on Tiron's arm that caused him to begin walking again, leaving the senators behind. "If one were to judge from Athash's lack of subtlety," said Iskra quietly, so that only Tiron could hear, "then I would guess him a most ineffective politician, which in turn speaks volumes as to the true utility of his senate."

"Then why does the emperor listen to them?" Tiron was finding the constant swirl of robes and the glittering of the candlelight on jewelry bemusing.

"It is better to keep your enemies gathered and in sight then allow them to indulge in subterfuge. And perhaps the patrician truly does believe himself important. If that's so, the senate may keep him occupied and prevent him from causing real trouble."

A trio of purple- and yellow-clad women emerged from the shifting crowd to stop before them. Tiron immediately recognized the ashen-faced lady from the court.

"Good evening, Lady Kyferin," she said. "I never had the chance to introduce myself. I am Vothak Ilina. May I introduce Vothak Shasana and Vothak Purisha?"

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances," said Lady Iskra.

"You are not familiar with our language and customs, and perhaps might be confused by the title 'Vothak'. It signifies one in whose veins runs the blood of the medusa, and who is thus a practitioner of the occult arts, a wielder of magic." Ilina's tone was hard and to the point. "Of course the emperor is the ul-Vothak and leader of our academy, but I have the honor of being the al-Vothak, and am charged with overseeing all duties in his absence."

"I see. Then we shall have much to discuss in the near future. Our potential partnership will no doubt be of great interest to you and your academy."

"Precisely." Ilina inhaled audibly through her nose. "I cannot say that I believe your account without evidence, and am skeptical as to your ability to provide us with sufficient Gate Stone in time to be for it to be of practical use, even should your tale be true. However, it is a potential resource of great value, and as such I am in favor of exploring all options and possibilities related to it."

Iskra inclined her head to one side graciously. "I completely understand, and look forward to not only demonstrating the veracity of my offer, but exploiting that resource to the great benefit of us both."

Ilina nodded slightly, evidently finding Iskra's response satisfactory. "Very well. Good evening, Lady Kyferin."

Again Tiron guided Iskra on, ever deeper into the hall. Their pace was slow and the crowd thick, but still it felt as if the hall were interminable.

"An academy," said Iskra. "Fascinating. I believe Vothak Ilina may prove a true ally in time. Her directness is incredibly refreshing, even if it no doubt limits her ability to influence events here at court."

They finally reached the end of the hall, where they found a large archway leading to the dining area beyond. In the manner of the great halls back home, a single long table sat at the far end on a raised dais, while two other tables extended down from it. The chamberlain was standing by the archway, perhaps preventing anyone from passing through, for the crowd had stopped and seemed content to wait - and glare at him and Iskra, Tiron noticed. The people before the archway were dressed in extravagant outfits, and had an austere and almost aggressive dignity to them that made their icy stares all the more striking.

Tiron leaned in to whisper, "Did we do something wrong? I'm getting the distinct sense that we've offended."

The chamberlain stepped forward. "Welcome, Lady Kyferin. Ser Tiron."

Lady Kyferin curtseyed again, Ser Tiron bowed, and the chamberlain stepped back to his post.

The change was miraculous. That single act of recognition seemed to soothe the ruffled feathers of those around them. Was proximity to the arch a question of prestige? Tiron didn't have a chance to discover. Trumpets sounded from somewhere within the hall, and Tiron turned to see the emperor being carried in on a couch by a group of servants and set at the center of the raised table. His daughter joined him, and a wealth of dignitaries, servants, advisers and others filed in to stand behind them or sit in some of the chairs.

The trumpet was blown again, and the chamberlain nodded to Iskra as a young boy in rich clothing stepped up expectantly. "If you will follow me, my lady," the boy said.

A second page stepped up to Ser Tiron. "If you will follow me, my lord?"

They were being split up. Tiron looked urgently at Iskra, who gave him a slight nod then turned to follow the page into the dining hall. Tiron fought the urge to curse, but allowed the second boy to lead him forward a few paces and then stop.

"Please bow deeply to the emperor," the boy whispered. "He does not expect the full formalities from you."

Ser Tiron, Hannus, and Ord all bowed deeply, and then were shown to seats near the end of the left-hand table. Clearly they did not merit much rank. Tiron watched as Iskra was led right up to the emperor's table, where she curtseyed deeply, was greeted by quiet words, and then took the seat to the emperor's left.

"I don't know much about politics," said Ord, leaning in close. "But that looks like quite a big score, don't you think?"

Tiron nodded with satisfaction. In terms of public displays, that was as clear a statement as the emperor could make.

More nobles and dignitaries began to file in, and the next hour was dedicated to an incredibly boring series of genuflections and polite gestures as people presented themselves to the emperor in ways increasingly more servile. Tiron saw that he'd been right. Those at the front, at the arch, were sitting closer to the emperor. At long last, others finally sat beside them, and the tables were filled.

Music began, servants poured some delicious honeyed wine, and soon food was being brought in on an endless series of trays. Voices rose to a dull roar as people conversed, and Tiron saw that everyone was intent on looking to see who was watching them. A thousand invisible ploys and plots were taking place all around him, and he saw that many seemed to focus on Iskra high up beside the emperor, where she had been engaged in conversation since taking her seat. Each time she laughed, countless people would go silent and turn to watch, only to resume talking as if nothing had happened.

The evening wore on. There was no end to the food, but Tiron ate sparingly and drank none of the wine. Entertainers came in, and Tiron had to admit to being impressed by a monster of a man who balanced a pole on his forehead, up which climbed two young boys who in turn stood and balanced on the pole's top. Ever more food came in, and Tiron noticed that a particularly striking serving girl with high cheekbones and bright eyes kept refilling Hannus' cup with a shy smile.

"Easy," said Tiron to Hannus after the girl had walked away. "Stay focused."

"Yes, I know, I know." Hannus smiled, his face a little flushed. "I've only taken a few sips to be polite."

Finally the emperor was lifted on his couch and carried away from the table. While everyone had entered in careful ceremony, now people began to rise at random and form crowds between the two tables, while others remained seated.

Tiron stood and frowned at Hannus - the man was blinking, and his head was nodding as if he were on the verge of sleep. "Watch him," he told Ord, then made his way through the crowd to meet Iskra, who had also left her table.

Her face was flushed, and Tiron thought she was easily the most beautiful woman there. Eyes alight with satisfaction and excitement, cheeks bright with color and her lips set in a demure smile, she inclined her head graciously to Tiron, aware that she was still being watched, and whispered, "A most promising start. I have learned much. We're to have a private audience with the emperor tomorrow morning. I had no idea we would prove of such value to him. The situation - ah! I pray I'm not reading too much between the lines, but our timing couldn't have been better."

Tiron felt a savage sense of satisfaction. "Excellent. Has he promised anything?"

"Not as of yet. There is a lot of opposition to his ongoing war, and he now stands nearly alone but for the Vothak Academy at his back. Even his military are having second thoughts about the advisability of his campaign. It shouldn't take much to ally with his daughter and foil the invasion. Speaking of which –"

Iskra turned as the emperor's daughter approached, courtiers and nobles moving aside so that a space appeared around the two women. Ylisa was perhaps slightly younger than Iskra, Tiron judged; her hair was as intricately braided as before, and a faint coppery blush had been applied to her full cheeks, complementing the bronze gloss on her wide lips.

"Your Highness," said Iskra, lowering herself gracefully into a curtsy.

"Lady Kyferin," said Ylisa, inclining her head. "Your presence here at court is causing quite the stir."

Tiron didn't know how to read Ylisa's tone. Mocking? Warning? Amused?

"Understandably so," said Iskra. "My arrival presages change."

"Not all changes are welcome."

"Alas, change is perhaps the one true constant in our lives."

Ylisa's eyes glittered. "Though the nature of said change is yet to be determined."

Iskra inclined her head. "Very true. The Agerastian empire stands at a fork in the road. Which direction it shall take is not yet clear."

"Oh? You sound far less confident than you did during your presentation at court."

"There is much that I have yet to share, Your Highness. Much that might be of particular interest to you."

"Indeed?" Ylisa smiled. It was the practiced smile of a woman raised at court, meant for the watching crowd and no one else. "And how do you know where my interests lie?"

Careful, thought Tiron. He stood immobile, ignored, painfully aware of how treacherous the ice was on which Iskra walked.

"All who wish to ascend to the highest good share the same interests," said Iskra. "I'm confident that we have more in common than you might have thought."

Ylisa didn't respond, but rather studied Iskra carefully, her eyes growing heavy-lidded, her full mouth pursed. Then she laughed, as if Iskra had uttered a great witticism. "How delightful! Then we should meet to discuss this common ground."

"Time is regrettably short," said Iskra, smiling in return. "I meet with your father tomorrow morning."

"Then, unless it's too inconvenient, perhaps we can arrange for a private audience later tonight."

"That would be most appreciated," said Iskra.

"Very well. I shall have you sent for when the time is right. Good evening, Lady Kyferin. I do so look forward to our talk."

"As do I," said Iskra, curtsying once more.

Ylisa nodded and turned away. The crowd closed behind her and obscured her from view.

Ord stepped up breathlessly. He'd been hovering to the side waiting impatiently for his chance to approach. "It's Hannus. I've lost him."

"Lost him?" Tiron's hand dropped to where his sword should have been. He craned to look over the sea of heads. "What are you talking about?"

"A man bumped into me and nearly knocked me over. I think he was trying to provoke me into a fight. When I turned, I saw Hannus leaving the hall hand-in-hand with that serving girl. I ran after them, but I couldn't find him in the crowd. I decided it best to come tell you, rather than risk losing myself too."

"Damn it," said Tiron. He rose to his tiptoes. Of course dozens of people were staring right at him. "Stay with Iskra. Don't leave her side, no matter what."

He then plunged forward into the crowd and made his way to the entrance of the hall. What had come over Hannus? Had he taken Tiron's words too literally and decided to pursue his own private amusements at the cost of his sense of duty? Tiron hurried out into the forest hall and looked around angrily. That would teach him to keep his wisdom to himself. What kind of commander told common soldiers to do what they wished? Homesick, drunk Hannus had probably decided to avail himself of a winsome smile. That serving girl
had
been strikingly beautiful.

Tiron rubbed his face, angry and frustrated. Damn it.

Iskra and Ord emerged a few minutes later, along with the stream of guests who were continuously departing the hall. "Any sign of him?" she asked.

"None," said Tiron. "He's young. Perhaps he had no head for alcohol."

He looked to Ord, who shrugged. "I've never seen him drink before."

Tiron took a deep breath, then sighed. "We can't risk splitting up to search for him."

"You would no doubt be arrested for walking through the palace without permission," said Iskra. Her expression darkened. "It's also possible that there's foul play at hand here. Either way, we had best inform the chamberlain and return to our quarters. There's nothing we can do now."

Tiron spat out a curse and grimaced apologetically at Iskra. "I thought that girl was too attractive. And the way the wine hit Hannus wasn't right. By the Ascendant, I'm a fool."

"Enough." Iskra's voice was sharp. "We need to find the chamberlain, confess our problem, and pray that Hannus is indeed just enjoying himself most inappropriately. Come."

The three of them threaded their way back into dining hall.