by Steven Brust
Daro, Piro, Ibronka, and Röaana were as near Khaavren as could be contrived. Ibronka and Piro, out of respect for Khaavren’s sensibilities, avoided any physical contact with each other. Ritt stood next to Röaana, looking as if he would have preferred to not attend.
Brudik, Lord of the Chimes, announced the arrival of Her Majesty. Everyone would have stood for her entrance, save that there was no room for chairs, and so everyone was already standing.
When the room had quieted and Her Majesty had seated herself, Zerika distributed distinctions as follows:
The Sorceress in Green was appointed to be Court Wizard and special counselor to Her Majesty.
Sethra the Younger was made Warlord, the Enchantress having informed Her Majesty that, the crisis now being over, she wished to retire to Dzur Mountain. Sethra the Younger could not keep the delight from her countenance, and bowed repeatedly, murmuring thanks in which her words could not be distinguished.
Sethra Lavode, for her part, was given nothing, but the ban upon her presence at court was lifted, and an official apology was tendered both from the Empire, and from the House of the Phoenix. While it was impossible to be certain how pleased the Enchantress was at this honor (for to have a dishonor removed can be construed as an honor), she made a deep courtesy in response, and those who knew her best—that being the Sorceress in Green and Sethra the Younger—believed that, for one of the few times in her life, she was truly moved.
For Morrolan, the county of Southmoor was raised to a duchy, to include all of his other counties and baronies as part of it.
This generosity on the part of Her Majesty astonished and delighted him far more than, in fact, he would have expected, although his principal reaction was to observe to himself that Lady Teldra would be delighted to be seneschal to a Duke. He bowed very low to Her Majesty and expressed the desire that he would have the opportunity to die in her defense as soon as possible.
The Viscount of Adrilankha, Ibronka, Röaana, and Ritt were granted an Imperial pardon, although Her Majesty neglected to specify the crimes for which they were being pardoned. Nevertheless, this did afford Piro, Ibronka, and the others a certain peace of mind.
Next, Her Majesty summoned his Discretion the Duke of Galstan, who came forward, dressed in the modest costume of his office, and bowed deeply.
“My dear Galstan, I wish to acknowledge here, before the court and all present, that, some days ago, I did you a monstrous injustice.”
Pel bowed, saying, “Your Majesty need make no such declaration; it is sufficient to me that I have been of service to the Empire.”
“You have been of great service, Duke, and, moreover, your loyalty has been proven by the blood you spilled upon the floor of this very room.” We must observe in passing that Her Majesty had written this speech thinking that the ceremony was to be held in the covered terrace, and had neglected to change it. At the time, no one noticed the error, but we feel obligated to mention it to avoid introducing unnecessary confusion.
“Your Majesty is too kind,” said Pel.
“And yet,” said the Empress, “the fact remains that, for a while, trust was broken between Empress and Imperial Discreet. However much I might regret it, such a breach can never be entirely healed. For this reason, I have no choice but to remove you from your post.”
Pel bowed, keeping his disappointment entirely from his features. This he was able to do for two reasons: The first was that he had, all of his life, trained himself to prevent his emotions from being visible upon his countenance. The second was that, although he did not know what Her Majesty might have in mind, he knew that, after all that had happened, she would not thus publicly disrate him without having some compensating reward in mind, and so he waited patiently.
He did not have to wait long; she continued at once saying, “You have proven your courage, my friend, and your wisdom, and you have shown by all of your actions that the interest of the Empire itself is dear to your heart. I can imagine no better use for your skills than to be my Prime Minister, and so help me with your counsel and your skills to aid in the rebuilding of the state that has been so battered and torn. Will you accept? If not, I shall have to find something else for you, because I tell you frankly that I will not permit talent such as yours to be wasted, nor loyalty such as yours to be unrewarded.”
However much he might have expected, and however much he might have hoped, the ambitious Yendi had never dreamed that he might rise so high—or, at least, so high so soon. Khaavren observed, with a certain pleasure, that not only was Pel trembling, but he was, for once, unable to keep his ecstatic gratification from showing in his eyes.
At length, Pel spoke in a creditably strong voice, saying, “Your Majesty, I only hope that I can prove myself worthy of the honor you have given me, and I give you my word, I shall, every day, try my utmost to insure that Your Majesty never for an instant regrets having shown me this trust.”
“That is all I can ask,” said Her Majesty.
As Pel at last backed away with trembling knees, the Empress said, “And last, let me see my Captain of the Guards, Khaavren of Castle Rock, Count of Whitecrest.”
Khaavren came forward and bowed humbly to Her Majesty, who in the first place deeded him the small but fertile valley for which he was named, and so the title of Marquis, with which Aerich had addressed him so long ago, was now his in a most official sense; his pleasure in this title was real, yet it was not unmixed with sorrow, as he could not help but regret that he would not be able to jest upon this subject with Aerich.
Zerika, however, had not finished the granting of titles to our brave Tiassa. “Lord Khaavren, or, should I say, Marquis, is it not the fact that, alas, your father passed away during the Interregnum?”
“It is true, Your Majesty, I had that misfortune.”
“And your mother did not even live so long?”
“Your Majesty, my poor mother was taken to Deathgate before I first entered the Imperial service.”
“And is it not also the case that, a thousand years before he died, your father was forced to sell the county of Shallowbanks back to the Empire?”
“Alas, Your Majesty, my family has never been wealthy.”
“Well, I shall not make you wealthy, my friend, but at least you shall have, once more, the name to which you are, by tradition, entitled; and the county of Shallowbanks, as well as the marquisate of Khaavren, are now restored to you.”
“Your Majesty!” cried Khaavren, dropping to his knee and bowing his head.
“You are pleased, my dear Captain?”
“Oh, Your Majesty!” said Khaavren, and when he looked up at her, tears could be seen glistening in the old soldier’s eyes, and it is only just to add that, on this occasion, not all of these tears were of sorrow.
“Well, well,” said Zerika, for her part delighted to no end, for it is well known that there is little in life that brings us greater pleasure than to give joy to someone about whom we care deeply.
This concluded both the awarding of distinctions, and the celebration of the victory, but, as the reader no doubt must assume, it only began the repercussions of the battle.
In the next two months, all of the Houses sent representatives to Adrilankha to swear fealty to Zerika, concluding with the House of the Lyorn, whose representative, the Count of Flowerpot Hill and Environs, without withdrawing any of his earlier remarks, confessed that, with all of the other Houses having officially confirmed Her Majesty’s position, it would be inappropriate for his House to take a position so clearly contrary to fact. The Count then, still without any allusions to the charge he had made before, told Her Majesty that, if she wished, he would withdraw as Heir so that someone could be found who “would be better suited to this important honor.”
Zerika smiled benevolently, declined, and said that she could imagine no one else who would better represent the interests of the House of the Lyorn, and that she looked forward to the opportunity to work closely both with him and with his House in th
e upcoming Meeting of the Principalities. It is only just to add that this action was suggested to her by the ingenious Yendi, who had also counseled the Lyorn to tender his resignation, and that this method of proceeding acquired for the Empire a strong and very important ally for the upcoming meeting, as well as securing for the Count his position as Heir, which had been somewhat tentative of late.
The following day, Khaavren begged for an audience with Her Majesty, who was, once again, busying herself with the plans, drawings, and models for the new Imperial Palace, as well as for the Great Houses to be erected around it (a task that involved much consultation with Daro, we should add, as no small area of the city of Adrilankha and the county of Whitecrest needed to be demolished as part of this construction). In addition, there was the meeting to which we have referred above, which occupied no few hours in Her Majesty’s day. Nevertheless, she was more than willing to take two minutes to attend to the brave Tiassa when he presented himself before her.
“Come in, Captain,” said Zerika. “Is there some way in which I might be of service to you?”
“There is, Your Majesty, and a great service it would be.”
“Name it, then, my friend; you know that I have no small affection for you.”
“I am not insensitive to this, and I think Your Majesty knows how grateful I am for the honor you do me.”
“Well, what is it, then?”
“Your Majesty, you know that I lost some friends in the late battle.”
“Alas, Captain, I know it well.”
“And now that the battle is over, and something of normalcy is returning—”
“You wish to bring them to Deathgate?”
“Yes, Majesty. I would wish a leave of absence, in order to complete this errand, which is of no small concern to me. The bodies have been anointed, and preserving spells have been cast on them, but, nevertheless—”
“Yes, Captain. I understand. How long will your errand require?”
“I do not know, Your Majesty. Perhaps as much as a year, as we have chosen, in honor of Aerich in particular, who would have preferred it, to bring him the long way, rather than using teleportation.”
“I quite understand, Captain. Very well. I grant you, and your friend the Prime Minister, leaves of absence for two years from tomorrow.”
“Your Majesty is most gracious.”
“And then it only leaves me to wish you the very best of fortune.”
Khaavren bowed and took his leave, going at once to the terrace, where he found Daro, Piro, and Ibronka all engaged in conversation. He tenderly kissed Daro’s hand, embraced Piro, and nodded cordially to Ibronka. “Come,” he said, “what is the subject under discussion? Tell me, and perhaps I will have something to say on it.”
“Perhaps you will, my lord,” said Daro tenderly.
“Look, then.” She pointed out toward the sea. Khaavren, looking in the indicated direction, at once saw what he identified as the masts of a ship.
He turned to the Countess and smiled, no words being necessary.
Epilogue
How They Returned
To Deathsgate Falls
It was on a mid-summer’s day in the third year of the Reign of the Empress Zerika the Fourth that Khaavren, Pel, Piro, Ibronka, Röaana, Ritt, Lar, and Clari came to the place where the Blood River begins to flow fast and straight, picking up speed for its plunge over Deathgate Falls. The air was sharp and cold, and there was a trace of snow upon the ground as they made their way along the bank.
Ritt and Lar each drove the wagons, as they were the only ones who could handle a two-in-hand; the others rode horses. The giant jhereg circled high overhead, but, because of the size of the party, were content merely to observe.
They stopped just past the icon of the Chreotha. Lar and Clari managed to pick up Mica’s body, wrapped in its black blanket, carry it across the water, which here came only to mid-thigh, and bring it to the icon of the Teckla. They each lit a stick of incense, and Clari left an offering of wheat and tears. Then they dragged him out into the water, removed the blanket, and watched him drift away. Lar set in the water his bar-stool, which drifted off behind the body. Khaavren, Pel, and the others watched in silence until it had vanished behind a gentle curve.
They returned to the west bank, mounted their horses once more, and continued.
They did not stop at the icon of the Tiassa, although Piro, Röaana, and Khaavren all solemnly saluted it. Khaavren said, “Viscount, when my time comes—”
“Of course, Father.”
Pel, who was riding behind them, said, “I suppose that, if there is a time to be morbid, well, this is it.”
Khaavren turned around and gave him a look that is impossible to describe.
When they reached the icon of the Dragon, they drew rein, and the wagons creaked to a halt.
Piro lit incense at the icon and left an orange as an offering (though we have not mentioned it before, Kytraan was especially partial to this fruit). Then Piro, Ibronka, Röaana, and Ritt picked up the white blanket holding Kytraan’s body (his head had been sewed in place before the embalming oils and preservation lotions had been applied, as was customary under such circumstances), and, wading out into the river, they set him down, held on to the blanket, and let the current carry him away.
They continued a little farther; then it was time to pick up Tazendra’s body and bring it across the river, wading through water over their knees, to the icon of the Dzur. Pel lit the incense, and Khaavren left an offering of dogwood. Pel and Khaavren, by themselves, then carried her body back into the water, set it in the current, and removed the blanket. Tazendra drifted away toward the Falls while Khaavren and Piro stood in the middle of the stream, watching her.
“She seems to be smiling,” said Pel. “Was that deliberate, when she was embalmed, or was it actually her expression?”
“I’ll leave you to wonder about that,” said the Tiassa.
An offering of bread was left at the icon of the Tsalmoth for Iatha, and one of sugar was left at the icon of the Iorich for Belly. Ritt performed both of these rituals, and helped to bring their bodies into the river.
They returned to the west bank, and continued past the icon of the Hawk until they reached the Lyorn, just before the sculpture of Kieron the Conqueror, which in turn was just before the wide area leading to the lip of the Falls.
“That is where the fight was,” observed Piro.
Khaavren looked around and nodded, his sharp eyes and lively imagination re-creating the battle in his mind. “And she leapt from there,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I can nearly see it.”
Piro nodded. “I honor her for it,” said Khaavren as he dismounted. “It was one of those moments that define a person. You have the choice between the desperate but necessary, and the possible but useless. Not many can make the right choice there.”
“And for others,” said Pel, glancing at the black blanket in the wagon that contained the remains of Aerich, “it is easy.”
Khaavren nodded. “There were, indeed, things that were easy for him that would have been difficult or impossible for anyone else.”
Pel knelt by the icon of the Lyorn and lit a stick of incense. Khaavren laid a topaz there.
“Do you think he enjoyed life?” said Pel.
“Of course,” said Khaavren with no hesitation.
“How, you really think so?”
“Certainly. When you are making your plans and schemes, and watching them come together piece by piece, or when you have discovered a way to cross a street by manipulating a sorcerer into teleporting a crate there, after manipulating a warehouseman into concealing you within the crate, then you are enjoying life.”
Pel chuckled. “I do not deny what you say. And then?”
“And when Tazendra was in a battle, the odds overwhelmingly against her, she was enjoying life.”
“You are right again. And Aerich?”
“For Aerich, well, he was one of th
ose who took pleasure in merely the passing of the days, and the growing of his grapes, and the knowledge that he had done his duty.”
“There are not many like him,” said Pel. “Even among the Lyorn.”
“That is true.”
“And what of you?” said Pel.
“Me?” asked Khaavren.
“Yes. When are you happy?”
“Come, help me with his body.”
They brought him into the stream and released his body into the river, watching as it went over the lip of Deathgate Falls and disappeared in the swirling mist.
Conclusion
How the Author, At Last, Closes His History
In the sixth year of Zerika’s Reign the Palace was deemed, if not finished, then at least ready to occupy, and so Khaavren and Daro had their home to themselves once more. For some years Piro and Ibronka shared this home with them, but, in the long run, the strain of living with Khaavren’s grudging approval began to irritate Ibronka, and so she and Piro acquired an apartment in the city—an apartment which they continue to occupy, for which reason it would be indiscreet to reveal here its precise location; and discretion, while not the most stern duty of the historian, must nevertheless be considered.
It was also the case that, every morning, Khaavren was required, instead of going down stairways and through corridors, to instead mount his horse and ride three-quarters of an hour to the Palace in order to arrive at his post. More than this, there was always a delay, more or less prolonged, while he made arrangements for the stabling of his horse in whatever was being used that day for temporary stables. Remembering the old Palace, where horses were not permitted to be stabled within a certain distance of the Imperial Wing, Khaavren did not see fit to complain of this. Another effect of Zerika’s occupation of the Palace was that Khaavren no longer saw Pel quite as often, as the Prime Minister believed he could do his work the better the less visible he was.
If the reader is confused about our reference to Her Majesty occupying the Palace in the sixth year of her reign, while the reader recalls very well the procession and celebration accompanying her entry into the Palace at the beginning of the eleventh year, we should observe that when Her Majesty officially announced the Palace as ready to occupy, she had already been unofficially conducting Imperial business there for some years.