The Floating Islands (32 page)

“Makes sense,” the master conceded. “All right”—as a clap sounded outside their door—“we’ll do well enough, Trei.” A blank sternness came over his face as he turned.

Decouan Patnaon came in, took in their newly respectable appearance with a nod, and bowed them toward the door.

The blue tower gave straight into the great halls of the provincar’s palace. There were a lot more cracks in the fine plaster and stonework than Trei remembered. But neither the decouan nor any of his men gave even the worst of the damage a second glance. They only led the way through one echoing antechamber, up a broad stairway, down a much shorter hallway, and into a large, plain room with an expensive floor of inlaid wood, wide windows curtained against the sun with translucent silk, and a single chair. There, the decouan and all his men took up stations with other soldiers already standing at attention all along the walls.

Tolounn’s Little Emperor was already in the room. He was not sitting in the chair, however. He was standing before one of the windows, gazing out through the silken curtains. There were several other men in the room, but Trei had no difficulty picking out the Emperor. Even with his back turned, Dharoann enna Gaourr dominated the room completely. When the Emperor swung around to meet his prisoners, Trei actually swayed with the force of his gaze. If Master Anerii hadn’t explicitly said,
We will stand,
he would certainly have gone to his knees.

Master Anerii put a hand on Trei’s shoulder, looked for a moment, narrow-eyed, at the Little Emperor’s face, and then inclined his head.

The Emperor strode forward, stopped in front of his chair—his throne, Trei supposed—put his fists on his hips, and looked his prisoners up and down. He was not an old man—not as old as Trei had imagined him, anyway. Trei would have guessed him to be younger than, say, Master Anerii—probably over forty, but probably not yet fifty. He had a broad, strong-featured face, familiar to Trei from the profile stamped on Tolounnese coins, but the coins did not show the aggressive power contained in his dark eyes. He
looked
like he’d been a soldier, Trei thought. A general, anyway. And he certainly looked like an Emperor. A circlet of gold oak leaves crowned him; a wide gold ring circled one wrist. He wore no other ornament.

“Kajurai Master Anerii,” he said.

Master Anerii bowed. “Emperor of Tolounn.”

The Little Emperor smiled, barely. He said, “You are indeed a true ambassador, enabled by Terinai Naterensei, called the king of the Floating Islands, to negotiate in his name?”

Master Anerii bowed a second time. “Yes, O Emperor.”

“Good,” the Little Emperor said briskly. He sat down in the chair, braced his elbows on its wide arms, and gazed over his tented hands at Master Anerii, ignoring Trei completely.

Trei was very willing to be ignored. He felt extremely young and ignorant—and he had blown up the engine and set things in motion for the destruction of half of the city. Being ignored seemed much the best possibility.

“Well,” said the Emperor. “What would the Floating Islands have of me?”

Master Anerii didn’t even blink. He said briefly, “We would hope for your personal undertaking, and the Great Emperor’s behind yours, that Tolounn will leave the Islands alone, renouncing all claim to our lands and demesnes.”

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, smiling. “But the Islands are properly a Tolounnese province, Master Anerii. And the key to any serious ambition we may have toward Cen Periven.”

“Two hundred years seems long enough to us to legitimize our independence. And the Islands take no interest in your ambitions toward Cen Periven.”

The Emperor said in a very bland tone, “That you have been flouting imperial authority for two hundred years does not legitimize you in our eyes.”

“If you wish to bring us under your authority,” Master Anerii said—smoothly, but not quite as smoothly as the Emperor—“you will have to conquer us. My king promises that we shall make any such effort as difficult as possible. He suggests that an amicable relationship between the Islands and Tolounn would be a good deal less difficult.”

“Well,” said the Emperor softly, “but I don’t mind the occasional difficult project.”

Master Anerii paused. Then he asked, “Am I to understand, O Emperor, that you decisively reject our request for amity?”

The Emperor half smiled. “What does Terinai Naterensei offer me, Master Anerii, for such an undertaking?”

“We have,” the master said precisely, “one thousand six hundred thirty-six Tolounnese soldiers that were stranded on Milendri when your engines failed. They are in our hands. What will you offer us, O Emperor, for all their lives?”

The smile disappeared. Dharoann enna Gaourr sat forward, his hands dropping to grip the arms of his chair. “I will redeem them all,” he said flatly. “What will you ask for them? Not an assurance of amity. But name a price in gold and I will pay it.”

Master Anerii hesitated, clearly trying to gauge this offer.

Trei caught the master’s arm and stretched up to whisper quickly, “Give them all back without ransom!”

Master Anerii blinked down at Trei. He shook his head a little. “Tolounnese honor! You’re sure, boy?”

Trei nodded vigorously.

Master Anerii looked up, cleared his throat, and declared, “Justly are Tolounnese soldiers famed for their discipline and honor as well as their courage! In recognition of the courage and honor of Tolounnese soldiers and of your honor, O Emperor, my king has accorded your soldiers generous treatment and will return them all to you without ransom.”

All along the walls, and without otherwise moving, the soldiers stamped one foot down on the floor in unison; the wooden floor boomed hollowly. Master Anerii started at the unexpected sound.

The Little Emperor was not startled. But his eyebrows rose. He gave Trei a very thoughtful look. Then he stood up, advanced one precise step, and said formally, “Master Anerii, though I do not acknowledge Terinai Naterensei is a legitimate king, I am glad to acknowledge he is an honorable and generous lord. I accept his generosity on behalf of all my soldiers and freely give you
this
undertaking: I will not send these men again against the Floating Islands.”

Master Anerii bowed.

“I will send ships to recover my Tolounnese soldiers,” the Emperor added. “In recognition of the generosity of the Floating Islands, I will ask you to permit me to send also an indemnity to cover the cost of rebuilding the damaged portions of your city.”

Master Anerii blinked. Then he bowed again.

“Now.” Dharoann enna Gaourr resumed his seat. “As to your Islands. I wish you to say this to the so-called king of the Floating Islands: Tolounn is no longer inclined to recognize the autonomy of the Floating Islands. It is far past time the Islands resumed their proper place as a province of Tolounn. Terinai Naterensei would be well advised to consider the terms on which he will yield his autonomy, which will be far more generous if he puts us to less trouble.”

The heavy features of Master Anerii did not show the alarm that Trei was sure
his
did. He merely tilted his head to one side and answered, “One might wonder how many Tolounnese cities you wish to sacrifice to this strange ambition, O Emperor. Or do you believe that the dragons that aided the Floating Islands in these past days will decline to do so in the future? Why would you believe that?”

The Little Emperor smiled, if a little grimly. “If this campaign had succeeded, I would have been pleased. But it showed me many things. I see now that it was a mistake to put the steam engines in a city. It was a mistake to guard them against only men—and less well than should have been done; I should have taken better thought for the Island kajuraihi. Next time, I shall build four engines, not three. Three shall press the sky magic away from the path of my ships so that your allies do not threaten them, just as this time. But the fourth—and the fifth, if necessary!—shall guard the first three, so that no dragon or kajurai approaches the place where they stand. And what will you do then?”

Master Anerii said, his tone level, “You are courteous to inform us of your intentions in such detail. I assure you that we will contrive.”

“Or you may ask me for terms. I tell you plainly, I am inclined to be generous.”

“And this will change, if we put you to such trouble as displeases you. Indeed. I will inform my king. He will give you this answer: we refuse your demand. If you would own the Islands”—here Master Anerii’s voice dropped to a harsh growl—“come and take them.”

“Proudly declared,” acknowledged the Emperor. He sat back, leaning his chin in his hand for some time, thinking. Then, straightening at last, he turned to Trei. “Trei enna Shiberren, son of Teguinn enna Shiberren, lately of Rounn. Is that so?”

Surprised, Trei bowed. “Yes, O Emperor. How did you—” He flushed, realizing his own temerity, and fell silent.

But the Emperor did not seem offended. He said merely, “You told Decouan Patnaon your provenance, and inquiries yielded the rest. How fortunate for the Islands that they have a half-bred Tolounnese to advise them!”

Trei bowed his head, understanding the condemnation in those words. He had no idea how to answer it, and so said nothing.

“You are from Rounn,” the Emperor said. “I regret your loss, then. But you now claim your mother’s kin in the Islands, rejecting your father’s Tolounnese kin?”

It never got easier to answer that question. Trei said awkwardly, “I did go to my uncle in Sicuon, O Emperor. He wouldn’t … He didn’t … It’s complicated.”

The Little Emperor frowned. He leaned forward, dropping his arms to lie along the arms of the chair. “Perhaps it is not so complicated? Your father meant to pay the half-blood tax to register you on your majority, of course. And your uncle did not care to pay the tax. Is that how it was?”

Trei knew he’d flushed darker still. Lowering his eyes, he admitted, “Yes. I think so.”

The Emperor shrugged. “So. That seems simple to me.” He glanced at one of the quiet men by the wall. “Make a note, Tibarron. I am displeased by the brother of Teguinn enna Shiberren, who even in the face of disaster makes so little of the bonds of kinship.”

The man inclined his head.

“But—” exclaimed Trei, coming forward an involuntary step.

“I don’t intend to put your uncle to death,” the Little Emperor said mildly. “I will merely send him a personal rebuke.”

“Oh …” Trei thought about an imperial messenger arriving at his uncle’s house with
that
message and actually smiled. “All right. Good. I mean, thank you, O Emperor.”

The Emperor lifted a hand. “I accept your gratitude in this small matter, Trei enna Shiberren. But,” he wondered aloud, “what shall I do with you yourself? You are not precisely a foreign agent, are you? You are certainly not a foreign soldier, and thus no ordinary prisoner of war. You seem to me a boy who was so angry at his uncle that he struck at Tolounn entire. A boy of Tolounn who went to a great deal of personal trouble to strike deliberately at war engines of mine. In wartime. In aid of Tolounn’s opponent. Shall I take this lightly?”

For a moment, Trei did not understand what the Little Emperor meant. Or no. He understood it at once, but did not want to admit he did. A cold dizziness afflicted him. He thought he might faint—then he thought he might throw up. He said, “I wasn’t … I didn’t …” He hadn’t decided he was Islander just because he was angry with his uncle. That hadn’t been why. Had it? Trei shut his eyes for a moment, trying only to breathe steadily and stay on his feet. Master Anerii put a hand under his elbow to support him.

“Provincar Atta was absolutely wrong to send a foreign ambassador to the oubliettes,” mused the Little Emperor. “He was never intended to hold tactical responsibility for this military stroke, and I think perhaps when ill fortune descended upon him, he became frightened. But … imprisoning a Tolounnese traitor in the oubliettes was not unreasonable.” He looked thoughtfully at Trei, who met his eyes helplessly but could think of nothing at all to say.

Master Anerii leaned aggressively forward. “Tolounnese honor!” he snapped. “The envy of the world!”

“Islander pride,” murmured the Emperor, lifting his eyebrows. “That evidently takes no reasonable account of circumstances. Shall I find this pride presumptuous?”

“Oh,” growled Master Anerii. “Is it
pride
that offends you?” He took one step toward the Emperor and dropped heavily to his knees, lifting his hands in forthright entreaty. His manner made the gesture almost an insult … but not quite. “Let be the boy, O Emperor. That is an Island boy now and none of yours. According to your own law, he was never a Tolounnese citizen. It’s the fault of
Tolounn
he found no place to go in your Empire after Rounn was destroyed. I beg you will thus be gracious and let him go to the place he did find.”

The Emperor leaned his chin once more on his palm. “So we find the limits of Islander pride,” he observed. “I am pleased to find it is not unbounded.”

“I’m more interested in the limits of Tolounnese honor,” Master Anerii answered harshly.

The Emperor returned, “The honor of Tolounn is without limit. But what you ask for is generosity.
That
is not unlimited. However”—a dismissive gesture—“I think it may extend so far. As I am in a mood, today, to be generous. Do you understand me, Master Anerii?”

“Yes,” growled the master.

“The boy is yours.”

Trei shuddered, trying not to fold up where he stood.

Master Anerii inclined his head stiffly. “Thank you, O Emperor. I’m … The Floating Islands acknowledge Tolounn’s generosity.”

“I
wish
to be generous.
Today.
You may stand, Master Anerii.”

Master Anerii climbed back to his feet without a word.

Trei took a breath—another—he came forward a step to bow on his own account. Both Master Anerii and the Little Emperor looked at him in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Trei said. He spoke straight to the Emperor. “I don’t mean … I would do it again if I had to. But I’m sorry. Truly. Maybe I was angry at my uncle. But that’s not … I don’t think that’s why …” He stopped. Took a breath. Tried to steady himself. “I never meant to betray Tolounn, or you, exactly. Though I see that’s exactly what I did.” He stopped again. Tried again, more plainly. “There was no way to be loyal to everybody. Not that I could see. But I wish there had been. The Islands are my home now, but I don’t hate Tolounn. Or you. At all. My father always … Is it insolence to say my father always spoke highly of you, O Emperor? I don’t mean to be insolent.”