Emperor Mage (3 page)

"Veralidaine
Sarrasri," the herald proclaimed. "The dragon Skysong."

"I
greet you in the name of my august kinsman, the Emperor Mage of Carthak "
the prince said formally. Then he leaned forward, eyes sparkling with interest,
"It's a true dragon?" His voice was light and fast. "Not a
basilisk, which we've seen, but maybe a young basilisk—"

Kitten
walked to the raised chair and rose, balancing on her hindquarters as she gazed
at the young man. "She's a true dragon, Your Highness," replied
Daine. She saw intelligence in his eyes, paint or no. "Basilisks have
pebbled skin, almost like beading. Kit—her name's Skysong, but mostly folk call
her Kitten—she has scales. Her ma was the same."

The
prince frowned. "A mother? We were told there is only one dragon in the
mortal realms."

"There
is. Her ma was killed by—" She almost said "Carthaki raiders,"
but stopped herself. As she had been told over and over, no one could prove
they were Carthaki. "Pirates," she went on. "She gave birth to
Kitten a week before she died, and I've been raising Kit ever since."

"Is
it hard? What does she eat? Does she hunt live prey, or—"

The
herald coughed. "Your Highness, the ambassadors have yet to greet the
delegation."

The
prince looked like any of Daine's Rider friends caught in a misstep. He made a
noise that sounded like a sigh and eased back in his chair, holding the blue
stone rod and gold fan crossed on his chest once more. "It is my hope
that, should you have idle hours during your stay with us, you will permit me
to show you some of Carthak's wonders."

Duke
Gareth had told her such an offer would be made by a Carthaki noble, so Daine
had an answer ready. She bowed. "I'd be honored, Your Highness," she
said, while thinking, He sounds so thrilled.

"May
I present you of Tortall to your colleagues and fellow ambassadors,"
intoned the herald, more as a command than a request. He led their group to the
spot where men, some dressed like the prince, some in robes cut in the same
fashion as Numairs, waited under a canopy. Most of their names escaped Daine,
at the rear of the Tortailan delegation. She would have to deal with almost
none of these dignitaries, and saw no reason to memorize alien names and tides.

Once, a
mage, did make an impression. He was a different fish among so many black-,
brown-, and
 
olive-skinned southerners—a
tall northerner, tan and weathered from sun and wind, with earnest blue eyes
and silver streaks in his flyaway blond hair. He stood with lesser mages and
nobles, wearing a scarlet robe with earth-brown cuffs and hem. He wore his robe
unfastened, over a northern-style shirt and breeches made of undyed cotton.
When the herald gave his name—Lindhall Reed—he and Numair embraced. Daine
smiled. Ever since she had met Numair two years ago, she had heard much of his
old teaching master.

"Arram,"
Lindhall said, using Numairs birth name, "welcome, if that is the proper
word"

Numairs
eyes were overbright. "I'm surprised you remembered our arrival," he
replied, voice scratchy. "I thought I'd have to root you out of your
workroom."

"No,
no." Reed's voice was quiet, cultured, and fast, as if he fought to
breathe. "I have a good assistant, better than you were. She keeps track
of everything. Unfortunately, she's about to go live with the merfolk and study
their culture. I hear they're moving in all along the Tortailan coast. I'd
thought they'd live in rookeries, like sea lions, but their nature appears to
be more tribal. And you are Arram s student," he said without a break,
looking at Daine. She jumped at the change of topic. "He wrote me so much
about you. He says you know how bats avoid objects and catch prey. When I was a
student I incurred censure when I hypothesized that they do it with
manipulation of sound, and Arram said you proved that to be true."

Daine
smiled up at this man, who was nearly as tall as Numair. "Well, yes. They
squeak at things. Their ears move separately, to gather in what they hear, and
each sound has a meaning—"

"I
don't like to interrupt," Numair said apologetically, "but, Lindhall,
I have questions that require answers. Forgive me, both of you."

Lindhall
looked wistfully at Daine. After friendship with Numair, she recognized someone
who would rather talk about learning than anything else. "Duty
calls," the older mage commented. "And I know we shall have other
chances to confer, since you are here for the emperors birds, and I help him to
care for them. Very well, Arram, I am yours, for the time being. Unless—"
His face brightened. "I know you've always had encounters with whales. It
is true, their songs are communication, not merely noise? Or communication in
the sense of birdcalls, proclaiming territory, and so forth? I—"

"Lindball,"
Numair said firmly, and dragged his old friend away.

I
didn't even get to ask him what's wrong with the emperors birds, Daine thought,
and sighed.

"Daine,"
called Alanna, "can you spare Kitten? Duke Etiakret and Master Chioke
would like a closer look at her, if she doesn't mind."

Kitten
whistled an inquiry to Daine, who smiled. "Go on. They want to admire
you." Kitten, always open to admiration, galloped off.

Trying
not to look at the slave rowers, Daine went to the prow of the boat, where she
could see the riverbank. During the introductions, they had left the port city
of Thak's Gate behind, following canals that led finally into the River Zekoi.
As the oars tugged the barge south, the city on Daine's side of the boat gave
up its claims to the riverbank.

An army
replaced it. From here she saw barracks in long rows, taking up hundreds of
acres. Companies of soldiers stood side by side on the riverbank, each soldier
with a bright, rectangular shield on one arm, a spear in the opposite hand.
Looking at them, she swallowed hard. She was no stranger to military camps.
Since her arrival in Tortall she had visited home bases for the army and the Queens
Riders alike, but none of them were as big as this.

As the
imperial vessel passed the first company of soldiers, Daine heard a shouted
order. As one man, the soldiers banged their spears three times on their
shields, then thrust the spears into the air with a roar. The second company
followed suit, then the third, then the fourth. It seemed to go on forever,
drowning out all conversation and making Daine's ears ring. Duke Gareth is
right, she thought, feeling ill. Even if we could beat so many, what would be
left afterward?

The
gods are up to something, she remembered abruptly. Something that might put a
crimp in the style of this army. If only I could find out what's going to
happen!

"That
is just the Army of the North." The prince joined her at the rail as they
sailed past the last soldiers. "My uncle has three other armies of
identical size, all in combat readiness."

It was
hard to read his face, but he sounded as if he wasn't proud of the imperial
forces. "What's over here?" she asked, turning. They now had a good
view of the far bank also. This side of the Zekoi was untamed. Reeds grew
head-high; a web of streams emptied into the river. The loglike shapes on the
far bank were not dead wood, she realized, but animals.

"Crocodiles."
The prince had seen what she looked at. "Do you have them in the
north?"

"No,"
she replied, calling with her magic. They stirred, drunk with the sun.
"They're giant lizards, aren't they? I have a book that tells of
them," She called again, and felt a soft reply.

"Giant,
water-swimming, vicious lizards," replied the prince.

Daine
counted to three, then said politely, "There's few animals that're
Vicious' by nature, if you'll forgive my saying so. Usually there's a good

reason
for them acting nasty—like you're stepping in their nests, or you're stealing
their food."

Food,
agreed a low voice in her mind. Hungry, commented another. A third voice added,
Waiting for food.

"Like
all females, you are sentimental about animals," the prince replied, his
tone superior. "If you had a croc after you in the water, you wouldn't be
so quick to stand up for them,"

"They
came after you personally?" She couldn't see this painted fellow doing
anything that might wrinkle his clothes.

"Well,
no, but everyone says they do,"

Someday
I must read this scholar Everyone, she thought as she bit her tongue to keep
from giving a rude answer. He seems to have written so much— all of it wrong.

She
called to the crocodiles again, I'm Daine, she told the great creatures, I come
from the north.

You are
odd, replied the one who had spoken last. You smell of frozen water and too
many trees. Do not scold that two-legger. If he enters our water, we will eat
him gladly,

A
private boat, brightly painted, floated by. A man in a low-backed chair read
under a canopy; a slave chased a boy who ran with something that struggled in
his arms. Cornering the child at the rail, the slave tried to make him release
his prize. The child leaned away. Suddenly he screeched. His

arms
flew open, and his captive tumbled into the water.

"If
you can't hold on to pets, you don't deserve to have any," scolded the
slave. The child screamed as she dragged him away without another look at the
animal in the river. The crocodiles did not share her disinterest. They slid
into the water from their riverbank.

"No,
don't!" Daine cried to them aloud, forgetting her companion. "Let it
be!"

Hungry,
said a voice. Food is food.

It will
die anyway, replied the one who spoke most. Look at it.

The crocodile
was right. The tiny creature, whatever it was, couldn't swim. It fought to stay
up, but the current dragged on its fur and limbs.

Stripping
off her boots, Daine jumped over the rail and into the river. Swimming against
the current, she struck out for the drowning animal Please stop, she told the
crocodiles silently. It isn't more than a mouthful! One last pump of her arms,
and she had reached the sufferer.

I hope
you do not interfere in too many meals, remarked the talkative crocodile as the
reptiles,swam off. We do not have enough food as it is.

I'll
try not to, Daine promised. Treading water, she pumped liquid from the pets
lungs. He gasped "Shh," she said. "Its all right. I've got
you." He was a monkey, tiny enough to sit on her palm, with huge

gray-green
eyes. Around his neck was a jeweled collar. "No wonder you couldn't
swim." She unbuckled the thing and let it fall "That was probably too
heavy dry, let alone wet."

Black,
sparkling fire yanked them from the river and pulled them through the air.
Daine soothed the frantic monkey until Numairs magic deposited them on the deck
of the imperial barge.

The
Carthakis, from prince to slaves, gaped at her and her new friend. Kitten began
to scold as Daine blushed, Muddy water formed a pool on the polished deck; her
hair dripped. Her linen and silk were ruined. Someone—a female—giggled, A man
snorted. Daine glanced at Duke Gareth and saw that he had covered his face with
one hand as his sons broad shoulders quivered with suppressed laughter. More
than anything at the moment, she wished she had the power simply to vanish.

They
went from their quarters to the women guests' baths soon after their arrival,
to Daine s relief. Not only was she able to wash, but maids brought a basin and
extra mild soap so that she could bathe her new friend. They even gave her
towels for him. She dried him quickly there, then returned with him and Kitten
to her room to do a more thorough job. She used the work to get acquainted with
this odd creature. Lindhall had called him a pygmy marmoset. Imported from the
Copper Isles, he'd been die pet of the child he called the Monsterboy, the one
who had let him fall into the river. His fur was strange—a mix of yellow,
brown, gray, and olive green, which looked as if it might turn its wearer
invisible in a proper forest. The marmoset gave his name, but it was in
whistles and clucks, impossible for her to pronounce. She asked if he would
mind if she called him Zekoi, or Zek, after the river she had taken him from.
He seemed quite taken with that, even trying to pronounce it on his own.