Emperor Mage. Tamora Pierce

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       CHAPTER 2

       IMPERIAL WELCOME

      Some hours later, Daine looked round the antechamber to the throne room with awe. Kitten did the same. The marmoset Zek, who had refused to stay behind, observed everything from his hiding place under her hair, at the back of her neck.

      There was much to stare at. The room was filled with nobles and mages dressed in their finest. Shaved-headed slaves were everywhere, offering food, drinks, flower garlands, and feathered or jewelled fans. Huge screens had been pushed back to reveal a broad terrace and gardens. Light came from large globes hung by chains from the ceiling. As the sky darkened, the globes shone brighter.

      ‘How do the lamps keep burning?’ Daine asked.

      ‘Magic.’ The speaker was Harailt of Aili, dean of magical studies at the royal university in Tortall. He was a stocky, round-faced man with an endless supply of jokes. Stuck in his outer room, waiting to bow to the emperor, Daine had been grateful for each and every jest. ‘Numair, why didn’t you tell us about this light-spell?’ Harailt asked. ‘To have steady, strong illumination—’

      Numair looked up. ‘They didn’t have it when I was here,’ he said absently. ‘They did something with glass balls, but they faded after a short time. These aren’t glass.’

      ‘The globes are filled with crystals,’ Lindhall Reed explained. ‘Remind me and I’ll have one of the craft mages explain it for you.’ Seeing the door to the emperor’s audience chamber open, he added, ‘You’ll be all right, Arra – I’m sorry – Numair?’

      The younger mage smiled. ‘I have to be, don’t I?’ As a page beckoned their group forwards, he took a deep breath. ‘Here we go, into the presence of the one and only Emperor Mage. Huzza.’

      The Tortallans entered the imperial audience chamber, Daine, Zek, and Kitten at the back of the company with the clerks. The admiring looks of that group of young men told Daine that not only had she been wise to wear this twilight-blue silk gown, but that she had done well to accept the royal gift of a wardrobe for this trip. ‘You go as a representative of the Crown, just like the ambassadors,’ Queen Thayet had said, hazel eyes smiling. ‘My lord and I insist. Trust me: there is nothing like a good appearance to give a woman confidence.’ The queen had been right. It was hard to feel insignificant in a gown that whispered as she moved and winked with silver embroidery.

      Introduced by a herald, Duke Gareth gave his speech to the emperor, announcing their desire to meet Carthak halfway and their hopes for a lasting peace. He then presented gifts from the king and queen to the emperor. As he spoke, Daine studied the ruler of Carthak, who sat on a tall throne before them, flanked by his ministers and nobles.

      She had never heard of him until two-and-a-half years ago, when she had come from Galla to Tortall after her mother’s death. Now she knew him all too well. Most Tortallans believed it was this emperor who had managed to break the walls between Mortal and Divine Realms on frequent occasions, turning loose the creatures known as immortals to prey upon Carthak’s enemies. Daine herself, working with Numair a year ago, had found evidence that Ozorne was helping to plan a rebellion against the rulers of Tortall. When the monarchs of the other Eastern Lands, those countries north of the Inland Sea, had learned of Emperor Ozorne’s plot against one of them, they had united. The threat of the entire northern continent going to war against the southern one had caused Emperor Ozorne to back down, and to open peace talks with Tortall.

      Her first sight of the infamous Emperor Mage filled her with awe. She had thought the prince was fine, but he was a barnyard rooster to his uncle’s peacock. Gold frosted Ozorne’s hair; gold beads hung from a wealth of thin braids. Gold paint shimmered on lips, brows, even his eyelashes. Gold rings marched up the curve of each ear; a diamond hung from his left earlobe. His neck was ringed with six rows of deep-blue stones that sparked with many-coloured fires: black opals, expensive stones prized because they could hold magical power. Beneath them he wore the calf-length, short-sleeved robe of his people in heavy gold brocade. Looped at his right hip and passing over his left shoulder was a crimson drape. The long end of the cloth was linked to the emperor’s left wrist by a gold bracelet. Each finger sported a ring. His sandals were gilded. Like the prince, he wore toe rings, and added to them ankle bracelets.

      She’d heard of Carthak’s wealth and power, but it was one matter to hear such things, another to see one man decked out like an idol in gold and gems.

      Duke Gareth had finished. Now the line of Tortallans started forwards as Duke Gareth gave their names, each bowing to the emperor as they were presented. Watching them, Daine felt a rush of pride. Carthak might be proud and great, but Tortall had sent wise and famous people to work out a peace settlement. Alanna the Lioness was a legend in the Eastern and Southern Lands, one the Carthakis couldn’t match; and as far as Daine was concerned, Numair was the fish their hosts had allowed to get away.

      At last her name and Kitten’s were called. Taking a deep breath, Daine walked up to the first step of the dais on which the throne stood, and curtsied, spreading her blue skirts at her sides. The queen had worked on the movement with her for hours, and she was glad to do her teacher proud. Kitten walked up the steps, halting only when she reached the emperor’s feet.

      ‘Greetings, dragon child. This is a pleasure.’ He reached down. Kitten sniffed his fingers, and sneezed. Grasping his hand with her forepaws, she examined the gems on his rings with interest. ‘And you are her keeper?’ enquired the emperor. ‘The one who is also a healer of animals?’

      She didn’t like that word, keeper, but she nodded. Lord Martin cleared his throat, and she realized she was supposed to answer the ruler of Carthak. ‘I take care of her, Your Imperial Majesty. And I have wild magic with animals of all kinds.’

      ‘How was she taken, your dragon? A trap, or a pit? A net?’

      Daine swallowed. Traps or snares for Kitten? ‘I don’t think you understand our relationship, Your Imperial Majesty. I’m not a keeper; I didn’t take СКАЧАТЬ