Michael A. Stackpole (15 page)

I slipped the rapier off and returned it to the rack. “And now you are a scout, just like your father.”

Kit nodded with resignation. “It must be in the blood, like father, like son.”

Like father, like son. That is a tall order for you, Lachlan.

My cousin must have read my mind. “1 shouldn’t worry if I were you, Locke. Filling our fathers’ boots may be difficult, but they had two decades to build their legends. We should get at least half that to create ours.”

1 felt uneasy about taking money from James for buying Bear’s Eve gifts, but he said my grandmother insisted, and after a quick stroll through the bazaar down near the docks I knew I could afford nothing with the money I had left over from my journey. As it was I found myself selecting things offered by merchants from Garik over bits of finery sold by folks from other parts of the Empire. The prices asked were high, but I managed to haggle them down to an area where I found them scandalous, not utterly outrageous.

1 bought my grandmother a knitted shawl of good Garik wool that 1 knew would keep her warm. For Marija I bought a scarf with blue and red flowers on a background of green and for Kit chose a belt buckle of onyx and coral with an arrow motif. 1 got Rose a hairbrush and James a small book of poetry that, somehow, struck me as quite appropriate for him. For Nob I found a hardwood dowel that I planned to carve into a likeness of the Emperor to update his chess set. Lastly 1 found some red cloth and blue ribbon to wrap my gifts.

Upon returning to the house, I wrapped my presents and set them on a shelf to await presentation the next day. James had already laid out my clothes for the ball, and I dressed quickly. The silk tunic felt cold on my bare flesh, but 1 warmed it quickly enough. The jacket and pants fit perfectly, and I was pleased at how the ribbon fringe looked, though I did note that the tailor had run ribbons down the sleeves and pants in addition to hanging them the way I had desired.

I pulled on my new boots and could feel where they would rub against my feet at heel and across the top of the foot, but I decided I could endure the discomfort for at least one night. I fitted my dagger sheath to the belt and strapped it on, then pulled the slender blade from my weapons belt and slid it home in the costume sheath. I knew being allowed to wear a ceremonial dagger in the presence of the Emperor was an honor, but walking out of my suite without my father’s rapier made me feel uneasy.

I met Kit downstairs in the foyer and marveled at his uniform. His silver jacket and pantaloons were regulation military, as was the white tunic with stiff collar he wore beneath it. As his accent color he had chosen black, which manifested itself in his knee-high boots and the thick black ribbon that circled his neck and was pinned in place by a pearl at his throat. A silver cloak and tall, white woolen hat completed his uniform and made him look every bit a dashing hero of the cavalry.

“I can see, Kit, why you believe it will only take ten years for you to become as much of a legend as your father. You already have the poise and the heroic profile.”

He smiled and looked back down the hallway. “I must at least
attempt
to look suitable for escorting the two most beautiful women in the capital.”

Walking slowly, but with stately grace, our grandmother made her way down the hall with only a walking stick to aid her. Her silver gown emphasized her slender height, yet managed to disguise the frailty of her age. Patterned with circles and triangles and other geometric figures, it also had worked into it her rank insignia. A white blouse rose up to cover her to the throat, but its floppy collar and cuffs showed beneath the main body of the dress itself. Her white hair had been gathered back tight against the nape of her neck and had been bound with a clip of silver and what looked to me to be sapphires. The blue stones likewise made up the buttons on her blouse, and one set in a ring of silver encircled the third finger of her left hand.

Behind her came Marija, and she took my breath away. The low-cut gown she wore appeared white enough to have been the preferred garb of a ghostly bride. The bodice hugged her body tightly, and its stiff-boned front extended down past her waist. Her gown flared out from there to flow to the ground along with the two ends of the simple silver chain she wore around her waist like a belt. Bits of silver braid and silver satin ribbons decorated her gown to complete it and bring it into compliance with the directive issued with the invitation.

Her accent color manifested itself in both the tiger’s-eye pendant she wore against her bosom and the matching earrings. She wore her black hair in a complicated braid that kept it bound against the back of her head so her earrings would not be hidden. The golden brown light glinting from them matched the hazel glow in her eyes. She smiled as she took pleasure in the effect her appearance had on the both of us.

Kit turned and offered Grandmother his arm, while he pointed me toward the cloakroom. 1 found a gray woolen cloak for Grandmother, along with a thick pair of mittens and a similar set of outerwear for Marija. 1 helped both of them don their winter gear, then helped Kit guide Grandmother out the door lames held open, to the coach which Nob had at the ready by the front.

We helped Grandmother into the coach, and Marija joined her, spreading out a blanket to cover both of their legs. Carl brought Stail over along with a black stallion that greeted Kit with a frosty snort. 1 swung myself up into the saddle, then the two of us followed the coach out the gate and toward the palace.

The Imperial Palace occupied the highest hill in the capital. Magical light lit it as if it were noon on a cloudless day, making it impossible to miss. While each of the eight wings had been built by artisans from different parts of the Empire, the eerie, pale blue witchlight made each wing all of a thing with the rest of them, unifying the palace as the Emperor unified the nation.

This is not to make it sound as if the rest of the city were black. Bonfires burned at crossroads, and lanterns glowed from windows. People filled the streets more than usual for an hour past dusk on a cold evening. As we rode through the city I heard and returned greetings and best wishes offered by strangers. For this one night, bound together by highest hopes for the coming new year, all the various people in the city forgot provincial differences and petty squabbles. While I had seen that and thought it wonderful in Stone Rapids, here, in this sprawling metropolis at the heart of the Empire, I found it unbelievable.

Nob brought the coach through the gate and right up to the front steps, while Kit and I dismounted near a crowd of men pressed into duty as stable hands. Some of them were from Kit’s own company and chided him about his dress, but he dismissed them with a mocking high-handed wave that set them to laughing. Walking away from them, we reached the red carpet running down the steps and climbed them right behind Grandmother and Marija.

As we reached the doorway of the palace, Grandmother spoke to a military officer just inside the door. He consulted a list, then smiled at her. He also looked over at two other officers standing back away from the door, then glanced at me.

“Lachlan of Stone Rapids?” one asked.

“Aye.” I removed my cloak and draped it over my arm. “I am Lachlan.”

“You will come with us.”

Grandmother and Kit both looked surprised by the command. Kit interposed himself between me and the guardsman. “What is this, Sergeant?”

“Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but this is none of your business.” The heavyset fellow planted his fists on his hips in a wordless challenge. “I’ve been ordered to bring Lachlan of Stone Rapids to the Emperor when he arrives, and Bear’s Eve or not, no sorry scout will keep me from doing what 1 have been told to do.”

11

_K

it politely bowed his head and stepped out of my way. He took my cloak from me, then handed it to the servant who had taken the wraps from Grandmother and Marija. As they headed off toward the northern wing of the palace, the sergeant and the private he led fell into step before and behind me Losing sight of my companions as they turned round a bend in the corridor, i followed my guides across the rotunda and deeper into the palace.

The rotunda, with its high dome and checkerboard flooring of black and white marble, gave way to an arched corridor. Massive granite pillars upheld the roof and defined the edges of circular alcoves. Each of the alcoves held a statue of a previous Emperor or Empress. All were chiseled from stone and made far larger than life, just like the statue of my father. Though I felt dwarfed to insignificance while walking between them, I felt a curious sense of satisfaction in imagining my father as being of similar stature to them.

The sergeant led me on through the palace, seemingly picking corridors at random. It would be too much to say that each was more grand than the last, especially when we had started in a hall containing statues of all the august people. The fact was, though, that each corridor was magnificent. Deep down I knew there was no reason why the Imperial Palace would not be furnished with the best the Empire had to offer, but actually seeing those treasures in such abundance was nothing short of staggering.

Ivory, gold, jewels, and silver adorned all manner of chairs and couches. I saw one miniature tree sculpted from gold with branches laden with snowflakes, each one carved from a razor-thin slice of a pearl. I saw cups carved whole from opals and a battle mask fashioned after a
Bfiarasfiadi
warrior, done in jet and gold. Armor and weapons made from precious metals and decorated with fine filigree work haunted alcoves and warded doorways.

And the murals, they were everywhere and fantastic. Walls and ceilings alike had been covered with them. Scenes of history, both ancient and recent, appeared all over. Some 1 recognized—like the Lost Prince, Ihesti, pulling on Lord Disaster’s beard—but the rest baffled me. in Stone Rapids I had learned that Herakopolis was the center of the Empire, but here, in the palace, it was proved to me in no uncertain terms.

My grandfather would have been furious with me because I failed to watch my backtrail and look for signs that could fix my position within my mind. Had the soldiers suddenly disappeared, I could have stumbled about forever—and would have deserved to die for my carelessness. That grisly thought couldn’t make me concentrate, primarily because so beautiful was the labyrinth that when I finally expired it would not have been from boredom.

I suspect another reason I did not concentrate on anything other than the works of art and the wonderful architecture was that 1 did not want to begin gnawing on the central problem i faced. Why would the Emperor want to see me? I was no one, from a little village in far Garik. In my journey to the capital I had seen much, but I had done nothing to draw the attention of a guard at the city gate, much less of the Emperor himself.

The sergeant brought me to a room large enough to encompass the entirety of my grandfather’s home. “Wait here. Don’t break anything.”

I frowned at him. “I’m not a barbarian. I’m from Garik.”

“You’re visiting from Garik, so don’t break anything. The Emperor will see you when he wants to see you.” He and his aide left and shut the doors behind them with a solid clump.

1 felt too overwhelmed to do anything but gawk at the room. Off to my right I saw another set of gold-leafed doors 1 assumed led to the Emperor. The room’s walls, which benefited from the double-high ceiling, had been covered with more murals depicting epic battles against Chaos demons right after the Seal of Reality was shattered. Directly across from the doors through which I had entered, the two windows set in the wall broke the mural there into a triptych depicting a campaign against Chaos demons who appeared to be wreathed in flames yet unconsumed by them.

The furnishings in the room looked solid and hardly in keeping with the splendor of the palace, yet appropriate for a room decorated with these martial paintings. The table and chairs were stout and unupholstered, though they did look more refined than something pounded together by a farmer from scraps of lumber. Two smaller tables bracketed a long bench that ran beneath the windows, and two tall wardrobes flanked the doors leading deeper into the palace.

The table in the center of the room had a small wooden box on it. In contrast to its surroundings, the box seemed almost delicate. The Emperor’s triskele crest had been inlaid in mother-of-pearl on the top, and I saw no latch holding the lid shut. Even so, 1 was not tempted to open it.

I wasn’t going to have anyone think a Garikman didn’t know his manners.

The doors leading to the Emperor opened toward me. I instantly dropped to one knee and bowed my head. I saw Gam Drustorn walk through the doors, then he turned and smiled as the Emperor followed him into the room. The Warlord glanced at me. “Highness, it is my pleasure to present to you Lachlan, the son of Cardew.”

“Rise, Lachlan.”

I did as the Emperor commanded. As my head came up I did my best to conceal my surprise at the Emperor’s appearance. Though he stood taller than me by a fist-width, we shared the same lean physique. His black hair and brown eyes could have made him Marija’s brother. Clean-limbed, and with the flush of health upon him, he clearly was barely older than I was. It was this apparent youthfulness that surprised me.

Of course I had known his age, as did everyone in the Empire who had drawn a waking breath since Daclones’s death, but it had never truly struck me what it meant. His being the Emperor had added years to him in my mind, and even though I had carved a chess piece of him and tried to make it accurate, I was work-irig mostly from imagination and his profile on a silver Provincial. I’d aged him at least ten years.

I suddenly realized that until this moment I thought of him more in terms of a statue or symbol than as a man.

“I am at your service, Your Imperial Majesty,” I mumbled. I heard my nervousness echo within my voice, and 1 glanced down at the floor as a blush rose on my cheeks. “I am honored to meet you.”

“The honor is mine, Lachlan.”

“No, Highness, I am no one, but you are the Emperor.”

“I am the Emperor because my father was the Emperor.” The young man smiled effortlessly. “To be revered for an accident of birth is rather ridiculous.”

1 shrugged uneasily. “It could seem that way, Highness, but being your father’s son brings with it burdens. Accepting them is something that’s worthy of respect, and respect it I do.”

Thetys nodded at the Warlord. “Your report of him was accurate, Gam.”

“He and his cousin both are polite and intelligent— as were their fathers.”

“So I understand.” The Emperor looked at me, then pointed to the box on the table. “Lachlan, open that box and take out of it what you find within.”

Thankful for something to do other than try to think of ways to live up to the Warlord’s assessment of me, I crossed to the table and gently pried off the top of the box. Setting it aside, I saw a silver ring nestled in folds of black satin. A dark line of tarnish ran around each edge of the band and helped define the shield-shaped crest on the ring itself. The second 1 pulled the ring from the box and the light fell full upon the symbols on it, 1 recognized the crest as that of the Emperor’s

Valiant Lancers, the company my father had led into Chaos.

1 turned to face the Emperor. “It’s a ring, sire.” I blushed as I realized he knew that already. “It’s old.”

“That it is.” Thetys clasped his hands behind his back. “My father gave that ring to your father over a score years ago. It is my pleasure to present it to you so it once again can be borne by its rightful owner. Put it on.”

I hesitated. “Forgive me, Highness, but if your father gave this ring to my father, then it is not for me to wear. 1 have two brothers, both of them older than I. First to Geoff, then to Dalt it would pass before it became mine.”

The Emperor let a grin twist the corners of his mouth. “Indulge me, Lachlan, for this night. It is my desire that one of Cardew’s blood wear that ring to greet the new year. When you return to Stone Rapids you may pass it on to your brothers if you wish, but for this evening the ring will belong to you. Is this acceptable?”

“Well, Geoff would get it first, and I think he’d not mind if I wore it in his stead tonight.” I slipped the ring onto the third finger of my right hand. The metal’s cold touch sank straight into the bone, but the weight of the silver felt good. While the ring was a bit too big for my finger, its heft seemed right and proper on my hand. The ring filled the phantom absence I had felt on the first day in Herakopolis.

“In the memory of my father, I accept your gift. I can’t thank you enough for it, Highness.” 1 clutched my left hand over it and felt a cold chill run down my spine. For the first time in my life I had something unique that had belonged to my father in my hands, and it felt right. Here was something that had been very special to him, and it was being shared with me—not handed down from Geoff to Dalt and then on to me. It felt as if I had a direct connection to my father, and the intensity of the link shocked me.

I looked up and met the Emperor’s steady gaze. “1 hope, someday, I can serve you in the same way my father served your father and earned this ring.”

“1 have no doubt, Lachlan, you will be of such service to me.” He folded his arms and cocked his head as he looked at me. “The Valiant Lancers died in Chaos with your father. Mayhap we will rebuild them around you, your brothers, and your cousin.”

I smiled. “Geoff is both wise and a skillful fighter. My brother Dalt is not much less of a fighter than Geoff. Kit is every bit the scout his father was.”

“Good. We will take only the best for the Valiant Lancers, I think.” The Emperor looked over at his Warlord. “Gam, please take Lachlan to the ballroom.” He turned back to me. “I would join you now, but tradition and ceremony must be observed if the new year is to be welcomed without calamity. You understand.”

“Yes, sire.” I bowed my head and refrained from mentioning how disastrous the harvest was the year Ferran Tugg refused to play the music for the Ceremonial Dance because he knew his brother Burton would ask Runa from Three Elms to join him in it. Ferran had been lovestalking her all fall and winter and was afraid Burton would win her that night. Grandfather said he’d never seen a drought that dry, or locusts that thick in his whole entire life.

The Emperor retreated to the other room, and the Warlord led me back through the palatial maze toward the ballroom. “I trust you are enjoying your time in Herakopolis, Lachlan?”

“Yes, sir.” I wanted to ask him about Bald Ugo’s murder, but didn’t since 1 wasn’t sure that was the sort of omen 1 wanted to mark the coming of the new year. “I’ve seen a lot of things and eaten a lot of things I never even knew existed.”

“There is much new and unusual in and around the capital at the time. Much of it is just rumor, you understand. You can trust very little of it, but ferreting out the truth is something that is an ongoing task.” The opalescent light in his eyes seemed to flare for a moment. “The truth is elusive, but we’ll nail it down soon enough.”

1 thought I knew what he was saying without saying it, but I couldn’t be certain. “I’m not given to gossip, sir, so I’ve kept my own council in matters 1 can’t explain.”

“I expected nothing else. If 1 learn something 1 can share with you, I will.”

“Thank you, sir.” 1 smiled because of the secret we shared and felt not a little relieved that 1 didn’t know that much more about it.

“Here you are, Lachlan. Please, enjoy yourself at the ball.” The Warlord pointed toward a short corridor that ended in open, double-wide doors. I took my leave of him with a nod and joined the other people heading into the ballroom. Even though I had wandered through a large portion of the palace already, I was not prepared for what I saw when I entered the ballroom.

If the room where I met the Emperor had been large enough to hold my grandfather’s house, the Imperial Ballroom could have encompassed the whole village of Stone Rapids. I entered through a doorway in the southwest corner of the room. This put me at the head of a sweeping staircase that curved around to the north and east. Aside from the pillars supporting the ceiling, the eastern wall of the room had been made solely of glass. Down at the ground level 1 saw doors likewise made of glass panels that led out into snow-dusted gardens. Beyond them 1 saw the lights of the city and the scintillating gleam of moonlight on the ocean.

Huge tapestries with fabled scenes covered the other walls. The staircase on which 1 found myself had a twin in the northwest corner of the room, though at its head 1 saw no doorway. Up there, on the landing, musicians gathered, and I heard their varied instruments linked by the discordant strains born as they were tuned.

A third staircase, this one straight yet broader than the other two, led directly down from a dais in the center of the west wall. Two bronze doors were built flush into the wall, and the Emperor’s triskele crest stood in bold relief on each. On the dais in front of them had been placed one large chair and four smaller ones. From there the Emperor and his family would have a clear view of all the festivities.

People crowded the white marble floor, but did not fully obscure the Imperial crest worked in black stone in the center of the dance floor. I saw, lined up against the north and south walls, tables laden with enough food and drink to feed the whole city for a week. Crystalline chandeliers burning with sorcerous light provided the illumination for the ball, and their reflections on the eastern wall emblazoned new constellations on the night sky beyond.