‘Thanks.’
Daphne inhaled, and all thoughts of bed and sleep fled from her. Her senses sharpened, and she took in the sights and sounds of the sea before her.
‘I had a visitor,’ Shella said.
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. One of Arnault’s lackeys.’
‘The Lord Vicar sending you secret messages of love?’
‘Ha!’ Shella snorted. ‘No, the message was for you.’
‘One that couldn’t wait for morning?’
‘The church have been holding meetings all night, talking about you,’ Shella said, flicking ash over the balcony. ‘Apparently, there are a few who believe you used arcane mage powers to bewitch the agents they sent over to interview you yesterday. Deacon Yosin said that proved you were an enemy of the church and the creator, and is demanding your immediate arrest.’
‘Deacon Yosin is an idiot,’ Daphne said.
‘For sure, but he controls those clowns in the One True Path.’
Daphne shrugged.
‘And more importantly,’ Shella went on, ‘he managed to persuade enough of the high church to agree that you should be brought in for more questioning.’
Daphne shook her head in anger.
‘They’re planning to arrest you at dawn,’ Shella said. ‘Arnault sent his messenger to ask me to warn you.’
‘Since when does the Lord Vicar care what happens to me?’
‘I’m not sure he does, Daffers,’ Shella smirked. ‘I think he’s worried that the cavalry posted at your front door will take it badly if the church send wardens to arrest you. I think he’d rather avoid blood in the streets.’
‘He wants me to leave?’
‘Yeah. He says if you go now, he’ll void the arrest warrant, and no one will come after you.’
‘No one officially, at any rate.’
Shella shrugged. ‘I don’t want you to go, Daffers, but I think he’s right. Look, you were planning on going within a third anyway, so what if you have to move it forward a bit.’
‘It’ll look like I’m running away.’
‘When did you start caring what people thought of you?’
Daphne frowned, then leaned back and pulled a thin cord protruding from the wall. Moments later the servant walked back out onto the balcony.
‘I thought I told you to go to bed,’ Daphne said. ‘Anyway, I’m glad you’re still up. Could you please go to Bedig’s room and awaken him, then bring him here.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he bowed, and left.
‘Is your carriage outside?’ she asked Shella.
‘Of course, did you think I walked here?’
‘Can you take us to the harbour? I’d like to slip away without too much fuss.’
‘How long will you take to get ready?’
‘I travel light,’ Daphne said, ‘but Karalyn will need several trunks’ worth of things. Nappies, bottles, clothes…’
‘You’re aristocracy for fuck’s sake,’ Shella said. ‘Take a few servants.’
‘No,’ Daphne said. ‘Just me, Karalyn and Bedig. I don’t want any attention.’
As Shella tutted, the door to the balcony opened.
‘Ma’am,’ the servant said. ‘I’m afraid Bedig is not in his room.’
‘Strange,’ Daphne said, ‘he was here for dinner. Did he go out afterwards?’
She saw Shella catch the servant’s glance for a second.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh Daffers,’ Shella said, ‘can you really be the only person who doesn’t know?’
‘Know what?’
Shella nodded at the servant. ‘Check Miss Celine’s room.’
‘At once, your Highness,’ the servant replied, and backed out of the door.
Daphne stared at Shella, her eyes simmering.
The Rakanese woman looked away, smoking her keenweed.
‘How long?’ Daphne said.
‘A couple of thirds, I think.’
‘They’ve betrayed my brother,’ Daphne said. ‘The family. Me.’
‘Don’t over-react,’ Shella said. ‘Didn’t you tell me that Killop was seeing someone when you slept with him?’
‘So you’re saying that Celine and Bedig are destined to be together forever?’
Shella chuckled. ‘Okay, probably not.’
The door opened and a dishevelled Bedig came out barefoot onto the balcony.
‘Miss,’ he said.
‘Bedig.’
‘You’re in big trouble, boy,’ Shella smirked.
‘Wait, I can explain…’ Bedig blurted out.
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Daphne said. ‘Go to your room and gather your things. We’re leaving tonight.’
‘Tonight?’
‘If you’re still intending to come with me to Rahain that is,’ Daphne said. ‘If you haven’t decided to stay.’
‘But why tonight?’
‘Because,’ said Shella, ‘the church are planning on arresting Miss Daphne Holdfast at dawn.’
‘Ah,’ he said. He looked out over the sea in silence for a moment, his long red hair flowing by his waist. His face crossed with emotion and he nodded.
‘Aye, miss,’ he said, turning. ‘I’ll be ready to go in an hour.’
Daphne watched as he left the balcony. The servant continued to stand by the doorway.
‘Summon the household,’ Daphne said to him. ‘Quietly. Have them gather in the dining-room and I’ll be down in ten minutes.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Daphne and Shella sat for a long moment, alone in the silent night air.
‘Don’t be too hard on the great oaf,’ Shella said. ‘He was bored, and she was lonely and pissed off about not hearing from Vince…’
‘That doesn’t make it right.’
Shella shrugged. ‘I’m just saying.’
Daphne stood.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s wake Kalayne and tell him the news.’
Shella rolled her eyes.
The first faint glimmers of dawn were appearing over the eastern horizon as the small party gathered on the stone quay, a galley tied alongside. Sailors scrambled over the tall rigging, preparing the vessel for departure.
Kalayne squatted next to the others, holding Karalyn on his knee, whispering to the sleepy-eyed infant. Celine was weeping, and Bedig moped nearby, unable to look at her.
‘Celine,’ Daphne said. ‘You’re mistress of the house now, bearer of the Holdfast name in the city. I know you won’t let the family down.’
‘I’ll do my best, sister,’ Celine said, her eyes red.
They embraced, then Daphne turned to Shella.
‘I wish I was coming with you,’ Shella said. ‘I’m sick of being a princess.’
‘We’ll be travelling for a couple of thirds. You’d hate it.’
Daphne heard the clank of armour, and saw a troop of cavalry approach.
‘Here,’ said Shella, passing Daphne a small leather pouch. ‘Something for the trip.’
Daphne smiled and slid the pouch into her tunic as an officer stepped up next to her.
‘Miss Holdfast.’
‘Captain Suthers,’ Daphne nodded.
‘I have troops stationed at the approaches to the harbour, ma’am,’ the officer said. ‘If any agents from the church come, we’ll delay them until your ship has sailed.’
‘Thank you, Captain,’ Daphne said, ‘for all your help while I’ve been here.’
‘You’ll always be cavalry to us, ma’am. Have a safe journey.’
As the officer withdrew, Kalayne stood, the baby in his arms.
He passed her to Daphne.
‘She is everything,’ he said, staring at her.
‘Then why aren’t you coming with us?’
The old man shook his head. ‘It’s all going to shit, and it’ll start here. I need to stay, to figure out what the Creator is planning, and to stop it if I can. It’s enough for me to know that the wee one is going to be safe.’
He glared at Daphne. ‘Keep h
er safe.’
Before Daphne could respond, Kalayne turned to Bedig.
‘And you, ya annoying wee ginger bastard,’ Kalayne snarled, his eyes bulging, ‘keep them both safe.’
‘Aye,’ Bedig said.
Kalayne spat. ‘Well, fuck off then.’ He turned on his feet and strode across the quay towards the city.
‘He stole my line,’ Shella muttered as they watched him go.
A sailor called down from the ship.
Daphne nodded, and she, Karalyn and Bedig ascended the gangplank up to the wide wooden deck.
‘Good morning, miss,’ a Rahain sailor said. ‘Your luggage has been put in the aft cabins on the lower deck, shall I show you there?’
‘Not yet, thank you,’ she said, turning her eyes towards the city, and the small group of friends on the quayside.
Bedig stood by her, and Karalyn dozed, as Rakanese dock workers loosened the great ropes that held the ship to the quay. Two vast sails were unfurled and, within moments, the galley began to pull away from the dockside.
The sun split the sky as the ship sailed from the harbour, and the silver dome of the Emperor’s palace shone like a beacon. Gulls called and circled overhead, and the galley banked and tilted as it reached the open sea.
Bedig glanced at her. ‘About Celine, miss…’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Daphne said, keeping her gaze on the great city they were leaving behind. ‘Let’s move on.’
Chapter 2
Dressing Down
Plateau City, The Plateau – 3rd Day, Last Third Summer 506
Shella groaned as the curtains covering the huge bay windows were pulled open, allowing the morning light to flood her princess-sized bedroom.
‘Must you fucking do that, Daly?’ she muttered, burying her head into a thick pillow.
‘My apologies, your Highness,’ her secretary said, ‘but morning is upon us, and you have a full schedule today.’
Shella opened her eyes, bleary from lack of sleep. Two hours had passed since she had returned from seeing Daphne off at the harbour. She reached over to her bedside table and lit a cigarette, smiling as Daly’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
The old Rakanese man left the room for a moment, and came back in carrying a tray.
‘Breakfast, your Highness,’ he said, laying it down on the cotton sheets in front of her.
‘You know you’re the only Rakanese who calls me that?’
Daly stiffened. ‘I am merely using your correct appellation, your Highness, as ordained by law.’
‘Yeah, but no one else can bring themselves to say it.’
‘Is it your wish that the staff be disciplined, your Highness?’
Shella sat up, frowning. The Rakanese employees of the embassy in Plateau City already disliked her, and she could imagine the looks of disdain that would result if she tried to enforce the use of her royal title.
‘No.’
‘Very well, your Highness. Shall I go through today’s diary appointments?’
She picked up a tiny cup containing a shot of strong black Sanang coffee and downed it.
‘Go for it.’
Daly produced a notebook from within his robes and opened it. He cleared his throat as Shella picked at the sliced fruit on the plate before her.
‘This morning, your Highness,’ he began, ‘a delegation from the Rakanese Dockers’ Guild are here to petition you about their working conditions and pay, then before lunch you are to meet with representatives of a Holdings trading consortium who wish to set up a mercantile mission in Arakhanah City.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Shella said. ‘What are they selling?’
‘Tobacco, your Highness.’
‘They’ll make a fortune.’
‘No doubt, your Highness.’
Shella stubbed out her cigarette.
‘Shall I continue, your Highness?’
Shella lay back and closed her eyes. ‘Sure.’
‘Over lunch there is the usual correspondence to answer, then you will be attending the official opening of the Rakanese community centre in the Old Town, with a drinks reception afterwards.’
She cocked open an eye. ‘Booze?’
‘I’m afraid not, your Highness,’ Daly said. ‘The Imperial Board of Standards refused permission for an alcohol license.’
‘Fucksake,’ Shella muttered. ‘Yet the Kellach are permitted to drink themselves into oblivion.’
‘Quite, your Highness. Your carriage will then take you back into the New Town, where you will be attending a dinner party hosted by Lord Holder Styre to celebrate the marriage of his youngest daughter.’
‘I don’t remember accepting any invitation. Do I have to go?’
‘It would look discourteous, your Highness, were you not to attend. However, if you are adamant, then I can prepare some suitable excuse.’
‘No, I’ll go.’
Daly bowed. ‘The Dockers’ Guild are due here in thirty minutes, your Highness. I shall leave you to get ready.’
Shella watched as the old embassy official left her bedchamber.
A wave of self-pity washed through her.
Why did none of the staff like her? Her brother seemed to get on fine with them. Those working in the embassy were leftovers from the previous ambassador, and she wished she could sack them all and hire afresh, rather than put up with their gossip and hateful glances. And now with Daphne, her only friend, having left the city, she felt truly alone, trapped in a job she hated amid a culture of petty rules and restrictions that were grinding her down.
She belonged nowhere, she realised. She no longer felt part of Arakhanah, but knew she would never be accepted into the Holdings elite. A colourful but unimportant minor royal on the fringes of polite society.
She slid off the enormous bed, and reached under the bedside cabinet, feeling for where she hid her weed. She took a stick of keenweed from a pouch and lit it, striding across the marble floor to a window, which she opened wide. She guessed the staff knew she smoked the banned narcotics, but didn’t want to make it too obvious.
The drugs cleared her head, giving her the false feeling of wakefulness that she knew she would pay for later. She went to her dressing table, and sat. The reflection in the mirror glared back at her. There were dark rings under her eyes that she would need to cover up, and her hair was a disaster.
She sighed. Another day to get through.
‘Why do you always wear black, Shella?’ said Sami, as they walked towards the reception hall. ‘Makes you look miserable.’
‘Shut up, Sami.’
‘Feeling a bit rough are you?’ her brother went on. ‘Out last night?’
‘Was seeing Daphne off at the harbour.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘With the dawn wind.’
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Wait till the One True Path find out. They’ll have a fit.’
A servant opened the door to the hall and they entered. Daly was the only person waiting in the grand chamber.
‘Where are the Dockers?’ Shella asked.
Daly approached. ‘I’ve had to cancel their appointment, your Highness. Your entire day has been cleared.’
‘Should I be happy,’ Shella said, ‘or has something even more tedious come up?’
‘The Emperor has summoned you, your Highness. You are to go to the palace immediately, and wait upon his Imperial Majesty’s pleasure.’
‘Fucking great,’ Shella sighed. ‘Another day of hanging around with desperate sycophants.’
‘Your carriage is waiting for you outside, your Highness.’
She glanced at her brother. ‘You coming, Sami?’
‘No way, sis,’ he said. ‘I’ve got stuff to do.’
‘You mean you’re going to get drunk all day?’
Sami grinned, and slipped out of the room.
‘I preferred you when you were sick,’ Shella called after him. ‘Should never have let that fucking Sanang mage heal you.’
Daly coughed. ‘Shall
we, your Highness?’
She turned back to her secretary.
‘Yeah, let’s go see old Guilliam.’
Daly accompanied Shella into the ornate ambassadorial carriage, along with Jayki, who was in his embassy guard’s uniform. Horses pulled them through the wide, paved streets of the capital, where large tenements and townhouses lined the main boulevards. Many areas of the New Town were still under construction, but the pace of building work was rapid, and more houses and shops were being put up each day. The palace was almost complete, with only one wing still under heavy scaffolding. Its great dome shone in the morning light, its surface gilt with silver mined in the Holdings, hammered into thin plate by the best metalworkers in the empire.
They pulled into the main palace courtyard, the steel gates swinging shut behind them.
An imperial courtier opened the side door, and Daly stepped out first, then offered a hand to Shella as she descended the steps.
‘Greetings, your Royal Excellency,’ the courtier said, bowing. ‘His Imperial Majesty has requested that you be escorted to the Hunting Room, and there await his pleasure.’
Shella nodded.
The three Rakanese followed the courtier into the palace through one of the lesser entrances, and were taken down long marble corridors to a modest chamber, decorated with the heads of various wild beasts slain by the imperial household.
‘Refreshments have been laid out for you, your Royal Excellency,’ the courtier said, pointing to a table filled with food and drink. ‘Someone will be along when his Imperial Majesty is ready to receive you.’
‘Thank you,’ Daly said, as the courtier left.
Shella tutted. ‘Why does it feel like I’m here for a telling off? I don’t remember doing anything that bad recently.’
Daly went over to the table and began pouring tea, while Jayki sat down by the door.
Shella lit a cigarette, and gazed up at the stuffed animal heads adorning the walls. Most were unfamiliar to her, outlandish beasts with leathery skin and sharp horns.
‘Poor bastards,’ she muttered.
The three Rakanese waited. They ate the food, and drank the tea and scented water that had been put out for them, and still they waited. The sun was low in the western sky when the door opened.
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