Emperor Mage (2 page)

Daine
made a face. "I'll tell you, if you'll stop growling at me." She sat
on the bunk opposite him, and explained what the Tortallans in general, and she
in particular, were doing this far south.

The
badger listened, growling softly to himself. —Peace? 1 thought you humans were
convinced Emperor Ozorne was the one who tore holes in the barriers between the
human realms and the realms of the gods, to loose a plague of immortals on
you.—

Daine
shrugged. "He says it wasn't him or his mages who did that. Renegades at
the imperial university stole the unlocking spells. They were caught and tried
last spring, and executed."

The
badger snorted,

"Well,
no one can prove if it's the truth or not And the king says we need peace with
Carthak more than we need to get revenge."

—No
one needs to talk peace or any other thing here. This is the worst possible
place you can be now. You have no idea.. Turn around and go home. Convince your
friends to leave,—

"I
can't, and we can't!" she protested. "Weren't you listening? The
emperor knows I'm coming to look at his birds. If I go home now, when he
expects me—think of the insult to him! And it's not the birds' fault they live
here, is it?"

With
no room for him to pace, he was forced to settle for shifting his bulk from one
side to the other as he muttered to himself. —/ must talk them out of it,
that's all When they know, even they will have to under" stand the
situation. It's not like a mortal girl has the freedom they do, after alL—

"Who
will understand?" Daine asked, intensely curious. In all the time she had
known him, she had never seen him so uncertain, or so jittery. Like all
badgers, he had rages, and would knock her top over teakettle if she vexed him;
but that was very different from the way he acted now. "And what's going
on here? Can't you tell me?"

—It's
the Great Cods, the ones two-Uggers worship-** the badger replied. —They have
lost patience with the emperor, perhaps with this entire realm. Things could
git very— chancy—hen soon. You are sun you cannot make your friends turn back?—

Daine
shook her head.

—No,
of course not. You said it was impossible, and you never mislead me.— Suddenly
he cocked his head upward, as if listening to something, or someone. He
growled, hackles rising, and snapped at the air. Then:—slowly—he relaxed, and
nodded, —As you wish,—

"As
who wishes?" asked Daine.

He
looked at her, an odd light in his eyes. — Come here, Daine.—

"What?"
she asked, even as she obeyed.

—/
have a gift for you. Something to help you if all goes ill-

His
words made her edgy. "Badger, I can't misbehave while I'm here. There's
too much at stake. You ought to talk to Duke Gareth of Naxen. You know every
time you teach me a lesson or give me a gift or anything, there's always an
uncommon lot of ruction, and I've been told not to cause any/"

—Enough!
Kneel—

She had
thought to refuse, but her knees bent, and she was face to face with him.
Opening his jaws, the great animal breathed on her. His breath came out
visible, a swirling fog that glowed bright silver. It wrapped around Daine's
head, filling her nose, mouth, and eyes, trickling under her shirt, flowing
down her arms. She gasped, and the mist ran deep into her throat and lungs. She
could feel it throughout her body, expanding to fill her skin.

When
her eyes cleared, he was gone.

Stunned
and trembling, Daine got to her feet. What was all that about?

The
door opened and Kitten entered. "You just missed the badger," Daine
informed her.

Kitten,
who had met the animal god before, whistled her disappointment.

"I'm
sorry. He was being very strange, and he left in a hurry." Worried both
about what he had said, and about what he didn't say, she picked up

Kitten
and steadied her on one hip, then walked out on deck. When they reached the
ship's rail, the animals awaiting her on the docks burst into an ear-piercing
welcome. Dogs howled; birds cried out in their many languages. Only the cats
welcomed her quietly, purring as hard as they could. The girl listened with a
smile. She was so lucky to have friends wherever she went!

Thank
you for meeting me, she called silently, her magic carrying the words to her
listeners. It is very kind, and I liked it so much,' I hope I'll have a chance
to get to know some of you while I'm her*. For now, though, please stop
calling, and go home. We're making the two-leggers nervous!

They
knew she was right. Birds took flight by groups, careful not to bump into one
another,' dogs and cats left the docks. Only the rats stayed, their attitude of
decided unwelcome a steady itch in her mind.

Piffle
to you, she told them, and went to join Numair at the rail. He was dressed
simply, but well, for their arrival. His soft, wavy black hair was tied in a
short horsetail, accenting a long nose and full, sensitive mouth. A black silk
robe that buttoned high on the throat billowed around his powerful frame. Long,
wide sleeves covered his arms to the wrists,' the hem stopped short of the toes
of his boots. That robe was donned by only a handful of mages, the most
powerful in the world. Not even the famed Emperor Mage was allowed to wear it.
Numair always played it down. He said the learning needed to win the black robe
was not worth much in the real world, but Daine knew better. Once, when Numair
was pressed by an enemy sorcerer, she saw him turn the other man into a tree.

"Are
you all right?" she asked, squinting up at him. The effort strained her
neck: he was a foot taller than her five feet five inches. His dark eyes were
emotionless as he watched the dock. Only his big hands, white-knuckled as they
gripped the rail, showed tension. She had wanted to talk about the badgers
visit, but she could see that this was not a good time. "Is something
wrong?"

"No,
magelet," he said, using his private name for her. "And I am as well
as may be expected. I can't say which prospect makes me more apprehensive—that
of meeting old enemies, or old friends." His voice was unusually somber.

"Old
enemies, surely?" She understood his concern. Carthak s great university
had been his home for eleven years. Shortly before his twenty-first birthday he
had fled, accused of treason against his best friend—the emperor. Now, almost
thirty, he was, in a way, coming home.

"I
don't know," was his quiet reply; "I was very different then. And you
know what the wise men say—'Only birds can return to old nests.'" He shook
his head, and smiled down at her, white teeth flashing against his swarthy
face. "Mithros bless. You look very pretty."

Kitten
chortled while Daine blushed. "You think so really?" she asked,
feeling shy. "I know I don't hold a candle to Alanna, or the queen—"

He held
up a hand. "That isn't strictly accurate. The Lioness is one of my dearest
friends, but she is not an exemplar of female beauty. Years and experience have
given her charm, and her eyes are extraordinary, but she is not beautiful.
Queen Thayet is astoundingly attractive, it's true, but you have your
own—something." He scrutinized her as she giggled. "You should wear
blue more often. It brings out matching shades in your eyes."

"I
heard that about my looks," Lady Alanna said, joining them. "I'll get
you later." Like Daine, she wore a tunic and breeches. Hers were violet
silk trimmed with gold braid, over a white silk shirt. At her waist hung her
sword. She grinned at Daine. "You do look good."

"Thanks,"
Daine said, blushing once more. "So do you.”

The
others, dad in daytime finery, joined them now that the ship was about to dock.
Under their conversation, Daine tugged Numair s sleeve. "I need to talk to
you as soon as you can manage " she whispered as the sailors made the ship
fast, "It's really, really important."

He
nodded, but his eyes were on the ships around them. She couldn't be sure he'd
even heard.

Across
the harbor a gong crashed three times. The Carthakis on the docks knelt and
touched their heads to the ground as slow, regular drumbeats sounded. A path
had opened from their ship across the busy harbor to what appeared to be a
canal lock. Down that path came a high-prowed boat rowed by shaved-headed
slaves. Its gilded surfaces threw off painful flashes as it swept along.

Daine
peered at the man seated on a thronelike chair on the deck. He wore a crown
like a cap, one covered with diamonds, that glittered fiercely. "Who is
that!"

Gareth
the Younger said, "Probably a lesser prince, one of the imperial
court."

"This
prince isn't a lesser one." Numair's stage whisper carried to those behind
him. "See the lapis lazuli rod in his left hand? That is an attribute of
the heir—what's his name?"

"His
nephew Kaddar" one of the others said. "Age sixteen. Studies at the
university."

TheTortallans
got into the ships boat and were rowed to the galley, where a heavy ladder was
dropped to them. Daine waited for the senior members of her party to board,
then followed. Kitten lost patience with her slow progress up the ladder and
scrambled up past her, beating her onto the deck. Their order, as they gathered
before the prince, was roughly that of importance, with Duke

Gareth,
Lord Martin, and Lady Alanna in front, Numair and the other officials behind
them. Gareth the Younger, Daine, Kitten and the Tortallan clerks kept to the
back.

Someone
called orders. A drummer sounded a beat. Sunburned and tanned backs on Daine's
left stretched forward. The left bank of oars dipped- the boat began to turn*

Standing
by the prince was a herald. He wore a gold robe cut like those Daine had
already seen on other Carthakis, a knee-length tunic with short sleeves.
Thumping his staff of office on the deck, he cried, "His Imperial
Highness, Kaddar Gazanoi Iliniat, Head of House Khazoi, Prince of Siraj—"

Daine
lost track of the rest. She was interested in the boat: once it had turned,
both sets of oars rose and fell on drumbeats, and the vessel raced across the
harbor. On either side of the deck the rowers sat at their benches. Each time
they stretched forward or pulled back, she heard a clatter under the drum s
thud and the men's grunts of effort. It took her a moment to realize that it
was the noise of die chain that linked their ankle cuffs.

Her
skin prickled. She made herself look away and listen to the herald. "—His
Most Serene and Imperial Majesty, Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, Emperor of
Carthak—"

Kitten
went to the end of a bench, chirping and peering at the man seated there. The
girl went after her. "I'm sorry," she told the man, who watched the
dragon from the corner of his eye. "She doesn't know not to interrupt when
folk are working—" The slave looked up at her, startled.
     
*

"Eyes
to your oar!" snarled a voice nearby. A lash snaked out to flick the man
on the cheek. The slave hardly blinked, though the whip had come dangerously
close to his eye. Daine bit the inside of her cheek and went back to her place,
hoisting Kitten onto her hip.

Someone
passed a handkerchief to her as the herald began to name their company to the
prince. She quickly wiped her eyes. By the time she was under control, Gareth
the Younger and the dean of mages at the Tortallan royal university were bowing
to the prince, who greeted them both with distant courtesy. They bowed again,
and stepped to the side so that Daine and Kitten were revealed.

Awed,
the girl saw that the odd shape of the prince's eyes came from dark lines drawn
on both lids and extended to his temples. He was a light-skinned black, with
thin lips and long, thick eyelashes, dressed in a calf-length tunic of crimson
silk. His jewels shimmered in the sun. He boasted three gold rings in his left
ear, a gold bangle shaped like a many-flamed sun, and a ruby drop in the right.
Another ruby served him as a nose button. He wore a collar-like necklace of
gold inlaid with mother-of-pearl strips. Rings decorated fingers and thumbs;
bracelets hung on both wrists. A flash drew her eyes to his feet, where she
found rings on toes bared by his sandals. It occurred to her that she might not
possess as much jewelry in her entire lifetime as the prince wore right now.