Eon - 01 Eon

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Eon - 01 Eon Page 14

by Alison Goodman


  I needed to get away from the power that called me to him. To make some space between us. I gave a small bow.

  'My thanks, Lord Ido.'

  'My pleasure, Lord Eon.'

  He waved Dillon back to the table as the herald called attention to the Emperor.

  'Let us eat now,' the Heavenly Master announced. At the second sweet course, we will listen to the poets who have prepared their words in honour of the occasion.' He held up a piece of carved jade hanging from a red silk ribbon. And a prize for the artist whose words stir us the most.'

  'One guess who that will be,' Lady Dela muttered. She caught the question in my face and indicated the screen behind us. 'Lady Jila has been having a very long winning streak.' Behind her, Ryko made a low noise of reproach. Lady Dela sighed irritably. All right, perhaps I am being unfair. Just because she is the Prince's mother does not mean she is not a good poet.'

  'She is the Prince's mother?' I said. 'I had thought the Empress was —'

  Lady Dela shook her head, placing one finger over her reddened mouth. 'That is how it is recorded, but the Empress was barren. The first-born male in the harem is always attributed to the Empress if she has no issue of her own. That way, there is no doubt of succession.' She beckoned me closer, 'You should understand that Lady Jila is a sensible woman; she knows that although she cannot be acknowledged as the Prince's mother, it is her issue that will sit on the throne. And after two girl children, she has recently borne another son, so her position in the

  household is secure.' She watched as a sturdy man in a short white tunic kneeled by the Emperor. Ahh, the Imperial food-taster has been summoned. The cold course must be finally on its way'

  Even as she spoke, two lines of eunuchs carrying covered platters filed into the room and positioned themselves along the front of the tables. The eunuch in front of me placed two dishes on the table, his eyes properly downcast. The herald thumped his staff against the floor and, as one, the servers lifted the silver domes. All along the table were plates full of exquisitely presented food: shredded pork, cabbage tossed with nuts, duck with beans, cold eggs, pickled vegetables, greens dressed in oils, sticky rice rolled in seaweed, cold roasted chicken, smoked flaked fish, and round pea-cakes served with ginger.

  'So much,' I breathed.

  Lady Dela studied the pork dish in front of her then nodded to the server to spoon it onto her plate. 'Be sparing, my lord,' she cautioned, holding up her hand to stop another spoonful.

  'There are eleven other courses to come.'

  Another eunuch stopped in front of me.

  'My lord,' he said in the soft voice of service. 'The royal physician sends you this dish and begs you to eat it first to assist with your digestion.'

  I looked over at the physician seated across the room at a lower table. He had changed his outfit and was now dressed in shades of green that did nothing for his pasty skin. I nodded my thanks and he smiled graciously, urging me to eat with exaggerated gestures. The eunuch placed the plate on the table and removed the cover, displaying crisp green beans and smooth white squares encrusted with sesame seeds.

  'What is it?'

  'Cold eel, my lord. To boost the blood.'

  I picked up the heavy silver chopsticks, eager to try the delicacy. It was a strange texture, chewy yet tender, with a nutty

  taste enhanced by the sesame. Beside me, Dillon was staring at a duck dish, his fingers gripping the edge of the table.

  'My lord, can you assist Apprentice Dillon?' Lady Dela asked between mouthfuls.

  I signalled to our server who promptly spooned duck onto his plate.

  'Just tell them what you want,' I told him, feigning confidence.

  He licked his lips nervously 'Look at it all.'

  I grinned, trying to coax some ease from him. 'We are surely blessed, hey?'

  His smile did not quite reach the shadowy pain in his eyes. I had seen that look before on the few occasions he had been beaten by Heuris Bellid.

  'How is it?' I asked him softly, nodding towards his new master. Lord Ido had his back to us, talking to the Dragoneye beside him.

  The shadows deepened. As you say, we are surely blessed.' He picked up his wine bowl and drained it again.

  'I am glad to hear it.'

  Under the table, I pressed my foot against his leg. He returned the pressure, his eyes blinking rapidly. It seemed we had both stepped into treacherous situations.

  'Lord Eon, allow me to recommend the pea-cakes,' Lady Dela said, claiming my attention.

  In between eating the next three courses — an array of soups followed by lobster then scallops — Lady Dela offered a low-voiced commentary on the Dragoneyes at the table. Lord Tyron, sitting next to Lord Ido, was the Ox Dragoneye and an Emperor's man. I leaned back in my seat to look at him: thickset for a Dragoneye with deep troughs that ran from nose to mouth, He was next in the cycle of ascendancy and so would retire in favour of his apprentice at the end of the year. Next down the line, and in order of ascendancy, was Lord Elgon, the Tiger Dragoneye. Definitely a follower of Ido, Lady Dela whispered.

  He was long-faced, with a prominent jaw and flat nose that gave him the appearance of a shovel. Lord Elgon would have been apprenticed to my master when he was the Tiger Dragoneye, but I had never heard my master speak of him. Beside Elgon was the Rabbit Dragoneye, Lord Silvo. A pale handsome man; the drain of his vocation had pared down his face into classic planes and angles. A fence-sitter, Lady Dela said. Always trying to make peace between the factions. We had just got to Lord Chion, the Snake Dragoneye, when a young eunuch in the black livery of the harem appeared at Lady Dela's side. He bowed and presented a scroll sealed with wax and decorated with jade beads hanging from the end sticks.

  She pulled the scroll apart and scanned it.

  'Does my lady wish to reply?' he asked.

  'No.' She waved him away and read the scroll again. 'Well,' she said with a frown, 'this will stir things up. I only hope they don't blame the messenger.'

  I glanced at the flowing characters on the paper, but didn't recognise any of them. 'What is it?'

  'Lady jila's poem for the competition.' She placed the scroll on the table. 'Naturally, she can't present it to the court herself, so she has asked me to read it. I translated her book of verse last summer and it was a great success.'

  'What language is it? Is she from the Eastern Tribes?'

  'No, no.' She leaned closer and whispered, 'It's in Woman Script.'

  'In what?'

  Lady Dela smiled at the look on my face. 'It's very old. Passed from mother to daughter. I think it started as away for women to write to each other. To express their feelings. Nothing very learned, of course, but since we are not allowed men's letters, it is a way for us to share our thoughts.' She paused, looking down at the scroll. And our loneliness.'

  In my mind, I saw a fleeting image of a woman drawing in the sand with a stick, carving out the strokes of a character, her arm

  around my shoulders. My mother? I let go of the memory and sat back. A Dragoneye lord would not have anything to do with women's writing. Or women's thoughts and fears.

  'Tell me about Lord Chion,' I said.

  Lady Dela picked up the scroll and pushed it into her sleeve, unfazed by my abruptness.

  'He is one to watch,' she said. 'The Snake Dragon is the Keeper of Insight, and Lord Chion is as sharp as they come.'

  I glanced down the table. All I could see of him was a long hand cradling a wine bowl. If he could see through pretence, then I would do well to avoid him.

  'Where do his loyalties lie?'

  She tilted her head towards Lord Ido.

  The next in the line was Lord Dram, the Horse Dragoneye. Lady Dela opened her fan and waved it comically in front of her face. The Horse Dragon was the Keeper of Passion, she said, pretending to pant, and Lord Dram was very serious about it. I caught a glimpse of his vivid face as he sat back in his seat laughing; there was more energy in him than the others, although he did not have the vig
our of Lord Ido. An Emperor's man, Lady Dela added, but not much use since he did not have the respect of the other Dragoneyes.

  The next course was being served. Chicken, prepared in all ways, served with large bowls of wild rice. I poked at my serving of feet fried in batter. My stomach was so stretched that the sick feeling had turned into pain. Dillon had stopped eating too, but was still draining his wine bowl every time it was filled by the server.

  'Do you know, I have never eaten scallops before,' he said. 'Or lobster. I didn't like the lobster.

  Did you like the lobster? I didn't like it.' He was having trouble focusing on my face.

  ' It's very rich,' I said.

  Dillon nodded, too many times. 'Rich. You're right. Everything is rich.' He suddenly giggled.

  'We're rich.'

  Lady Dela tapped her fan on my arm. 'Look. Over there.'

  Four musicians had kowtowed into the centre of the room, followed by a troupe of twelve men, each dressed as one of the animals in the cycle. The famous Dragon Dancers — I had heard of them, but they never performed outside of the palace. The dancer dressed in the red of the Mirror Dragon bowed before me, his elaborate robe rippling with silver beads worked into the shapes of scaled skin and ending in a long train.

  The first notes of the pipe music shivered across the room, stilling the conversation. Then the dancers began to move, their bodies taking on the characteristics of their animal. They danced the cycle; enacting the sacred duty of the Dragoneye to protect and nurture the land and its people. I gasped as they made rain fall with fine silver streamers, changed the flow of rivers with bolts of blue silk, and stilled winds made of sheer muslin. And then, in turn, each dancer twirled and leaped alone, bringing into movement the virtue kept by their dragon animal.

  When it was the red dancer's turn, he was joined by another in an identical costume, and they twirled and leaped in harmony, a perfect mirror image of each other. They were dancing Truth. My dragon was the Keeper of Truth. The irony made me shift in my chair.

  At the end of the performance, the room erupted with shouts and clapping. I stamped my feet along with everyone else, showing our appreciation to the dancers by shaking the floor beneath them. As they bowed out of the room, the servers moved into place, quietly setting down the first sweet course. Pastries awash in cane syrup, candied nuts, sugared plums, fresh berries, tiny cakes and bean buns.

  'Honey' Dillon yelled, grabbing one of the dripping combs straight from the serving plate. He waved the delicacy at me. 'Look, Eon, honey'

  There was a loud crack — bone hitting bone. Dillon's head jerked back.

  'You forget yourself, Apprentice,' Lord Ido hissed, his arm still raised from the sweep of the backhander. A thick blue vein was throbbing down the centre of his forehead.

  Dillon crouched in the chair. 'I'm sorry, my lord. I'm sorry Please, I'm sorry'

  'Don't apologise to me. Apologise to Lord Eon.'

  Dillon scrabbled around to face me, bowing low. 'My lord, forgive me.'

  I stared at his pale nape and small child ears. Below his bowed head, blood was dripping onto the floor, mixed with the honey that oozed from the comb still in his hand. I felt Lady Dela nudge me in the back.

  'I have taken no offence,' I said quickly.

  'Get some cloth; clean this up,' Lord Ido ordered one of the servers. And you,' he jabbed a forefinger into Dillon's shoulder, 'sit still and do not dishonour me further.'

  He flexed his hand, easing out the pain in his knuckles. A eunuch hurried up and offered him a damp towel.

  'The boy' he yelled, pushing the towel towards Dillon. 'Give it to the boy' He pressed his palm into his forehead and signalled to an etiquette eunuch. 'I need air,' he said through clenched teeth.

  The eunuch bowed and began to clear a way behind the chairs.

  Lord Ido stood and nodded to me and Lady Dela, then made the deep obeisance to the Emperor. We watched him back away, ignoring the overtures of the other Dragoneyes as he passed.

  'That man's fuse is getting shorter and shorter,' Lady Dela said thoughtfully A very young harem eunuch dropped to his knees beside her, waiting to deliver a message.

  Lady Dela sighed.

  'Let me guess,' she said to him. 'Lady Jila wants a few words with me before I deliver her masterpiece.'

  The eunuch nodded, vainly trying to fight off a smile.

  'By your leave, Lord Eon,' Lady Dela said, gathering the edge of her gown into one hand and preparing to rise.

  'Of course.'

  I turned back to Dillon and touched his shoulder. 'Come on,' I said. 'Clean yourself up.'

  He pressed the towel against the cut above his eye.

  'I forgot,' he said, almost to himself.

  All that wine didn't help.' I pulled his hand down and peered at the injury 'It's stopped bleeding.'

  All this is...It's just not as...' He stopped, casting a frightened look around for Lord Ido, but the Dragoneye had already left the room.

  'Easy?' I suggested. 'But it's better than not being chosen, hey?'

  He smiled wanly. 'When I touched the Rat Dragon's pearl — all that power through me — it was as if I owned the world.' He looked up at me, his face clearing into wonder. 'You know what it was like.'

  I returned his smile. 'I do.'

  And then when I felt his true name rush through me, I nearly burst from the joy'

  The air stilled around me. True name. What true name? All my muscles locked with a terrible foreboding.

  'His true name,' I echoed.

  'Is that how you felt too, my lord?' Dillon asked.

  I nodded stiffly

  Was that the whisper that had slipped away from me? I remembered pressing my ear and hands against the golden pearl, straining to hear the fading sound. Why did the dragon's name not rush through me, as it had for Dillon? My breath caught in my throat. Was it because I would not call out my hidden name? But it would have meant my death.

  I had missed my only chance to learn the red dragon's name.

  Dillon wiped blood from his cheek. 'It is humbling to know I can now call the Rat Dragon and his power,' he said. 'Lord Ido has already shown me the courtesies.' He looked back at the doorway, relaxing when he saw his master had not returned.

  I had no way to call the Mirror Dragon.

  No way to call his power.

  No way to do the Emperor's bidding.

  Each thought hit me like a blow to the body. If I could not call the dragon and use his power, I was of no use to the Emperor or my master. Or anyone.

  'Are you all right, my lord?' Dillon asked.

  No one must know. It would mean my death. My master's death. The Emperor would kill us both.

  'Lord Eon?'

  I flinched as Dillon tentatively touched my hand.

  'Very humbling,' I said, forcing myself to smile.

  Beside me, a eunuch pulled out Lady Dela's chair.

  'Just a word change,' she said, sitting down. 'The artist is never satisfied.'

  For the next few hours, I could not see past my fear or the stark truth that pounded through me: I could not call my dragon. At some point, Lord Ido returned to his seat. More food arrived and I ate until a deep nausea rose into my throat, stopping me from pushing any more into my mouth. The poets read their work and I clapped and smiled, although I did not make sense of the words. Only one verse, spoken by Lady Dela, penetrated my numb sickness: When Sun and Moon rise together Heaven holds the Pearl of Night Bringing darkness to the blinding light And cool relief to a burning land.

  Lord Ido's head snapped up. The polite silence in the room suddenly sharpened and I felt everyone's attention focus on him and me. The Emperor began to clap, the Prince quickly joining his father in the ovation. Hurriedly, the courtiers and other guests added their applause. Lady Jila had

  won the jade, the young harem eunuch carrying it to her behind the screen.

  And then, finally, the banquet was over. We all dropped to our knees as the Emperor was carried out of the ro
om in an elaborate sedan chair, followed by the Prince Heir. I stared down at the mosaic floor, trying to find some distraction from the waves of shivering that had taken hold of my body. Slowly, everyone around me stood, their conversation more relaxed now that the Imperial presence was gone. I felt Ryko's bulk behind me, then his large hand around my arm, hauling me up.

  Lady Dela looked at me closely. 'You are not well, my lord?'

  I shook my head, afraid to open my mouth in case I vomited.

  'I'll arrange for you to be taken back to your apartment.'

  She motioned to a stocky eunuch and gave him low-voiced instructions. He bowed then led me across the room, weaving around the groups of chatting guests in such a way that no one halted our progress. I was out in the courtyard before anyone else. The eunuch ushered me quickly along a path that passed between elegant buildings and through courtyard gardens lit by round red lanterns. I breathed deeply as we walked, trying to quell the sickness with the cool night air. I knew I was going to vomit, but not in the Harmony Robe. I had to get back to the apartment.

  Finally, the eunuch stopped. 'Your rooms, my lord,' he said, bowing.

  Gasping, I doubled over, drawn down by the pain in my gut. I had not recognised the garden or the apartment in the soft light of the lanterns. A shadow stepped off the low platform, solidifying into Rilla as she hurried towards me.

  I waved the eunuch away 'Thank you. Go.'

  He bowed and disappeared into the gloom. Rilla caught me as I dropped to my knees.

  'I'm going to be sick,' I said. 'Get me out of the robe.'

  Rilla pulled me up into a crouch, half carrying me to the platform.

  'The robe,' I rasped.

  She eased me down onto the step and pulled at the sash, working the ties.

  'Hold still,' she said. 'It's nearly undone.'

  I fixed my eyes on a lamp, panting. The sash loosened and dropped onto the platform. Rilla pulled the robe down off my shoulders. I wrenched my arms out of the sleeves and fell forwards, landing heavily on the gravel path. Sharp stones dug through my thin under-robes, sending hot pain shooting through my palms and knees. The first retch brought up spit and snot. The second, only foul gas that made me cough. The third felt as though I was dragging up my stomach. Then, in a choking stream of half-digested meat, soup, rice and wine, the banquet emptied out of me. Over and over again until it felt as though I was disgorging my very bowels.

 

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