It didn’t seem real that, of all the people in Jaria who could have been sent here as ambassador, the leaders of Jaria had chosen me. They needed to be sure I wasn’t an Astor before giving me a permanent responsibility in the village. Telby City was on my way to where I was ultimately heading, but that didn’t mean they had to choose me. Another person could have been sent with us, someone more qualified in diplomacy and politics. I was merely a quartermaster’s apprentice and, even though that quartermaster had been made prime, it didn’t follow that I was as qualified as Bessed to take on a political role.
I would have to stop thinking of myself as his apprentice. Things had changed—I was an Anzaii, Rada warrior now, with the possibility of becoming Tolite and Sleffion as well. The thought of wielding such powers was almost enough to outweigh the responsibility that soon followed. To what end would I, the orphaned son of a disgraced military leader, be given such abilities? Only the Lightmaker knew.
I sat back with my hands on the stone roof behind me and my legs stretched out in front. The dawn broke before me, sending rays of light through gaps in the clouds and bright yellow warmth across the land. In the middle distance, a cathedral’s banners fluttered and the shadows cast by its many turrets and spires metamorphosed before my eyes. The streets teemed with life. People and animals flowed onto the cobblestone roadways. There were even more crowds in the poorer areas, kicking up clouds of dust.
I heard a bang from inside the chute I had used to access the roof of Three Storeys and cursed silently as the door started to swing open. With a small growl I leaned down into cat form. The shock of such a quick transition set my ears to ringing. Despite practising alongside Rekala, the pain and dizziness of each transformation was still intense. The woman who had greeted us last night, climbed out of the chute, dragging a broken barrel behind her. When she turned to set it down, I darted back inside, landing softly on the wooden floorboards of the attic. I sneezed from the dust I had disturbed and looked around at all the exciting nooks and crannies I could explore.
I trotted around the outer wall of the attic and descended a narrow set of stairs to the third storey. Two bleary-eyed males were leaning against the rail outside their rooms, talking in low voices, blocking my path to the next set of stairs. I sat still for a moment, licking the short, mottled fur of my left forefoot and washing behind my ears with it. I had seen a hundred cats do the exact same thing so it didn’t feel strange to be grooming myself while in the form of one.
A door burst open behind me, spewing forth a half-dressed man who laughed as a woman screamed invectives at him from inside.
‘Shoo, cat,’ he said in response to my hiss.
Taking my chances with the three other men I ran swiftly between their legs and hurried downstairs. Once I’d made it to the ground floor, I could hear the common room buzzing with voices. A man in overalls was sweeping the floor and whistling quietly. When he noticed the small foreign cat walk in through the foyer he shook his broom at it. I closed my eyes and released the string of concentration on the waves that was holding me in cat form. The man gasped in surprise.
He shoved the broom against the bar. ‘Confounded Rada. Think it’s funny, do ya, sneakin’ up on people in disguise? Naeva knows what you might poke your noses into.’
‘I apologise,’ I replied. ‘Perhaps I’d better be a bit more subtle while in Telby City.’ I added to Rekala and Tiaro.
‘You’re the ones what arrived late last night.’
‘Aye.’ I bowed and asked, ‘I take it you’re the tavern owner?’
‘Aye,’ he muttered.
I sat at the bar and folded my arms. Footsteps echoed softly down the stairs and Sarlice entered moments later, hair swept up high. She wore a red and white dress with gold trim. The white sleeves were long and dangled open at the wrists. An intricate blue and gold embroidered circlet sat just above each elbow, bearing the symbol of Lyth—a bear running through water.
Her eyes were bright and focused, her smile warm when she looked upon me.
‘Nice shirt,’ she commented, letting her eyes rove across my body. ‘You’ll do.’
I got the impression from Kestric that Sarlice was a little more impressed than she let on. I grinned mischievously at her. The fine clothing Bessed had given to me wasn’t as comfortable as the more practical attire I was used to.
Having left Jaria and the mountains behind me it seemed fitting that I would start to wear clothes that I hadn’t worn before. Telby was a lot warmer than Jaria, and the cultural expectations of this crowded metropolis were far beyond anything I’d experienced before. The Jarian Anzaii artefact Namal had given to me was cinched around my waist, matching perfectly with the blue sapphire tree leaves in my mother’s pendant and in Tiaro. The clothing boosted my confidence.
Sarlice’s hands were empty, but I suspected her boots and clothing hid at least two weapons. Kestric and Rekala were by her side—the firetiger and the icetiger making a striking, formidable pair. Rekala’s greyish fur had mostly shed, leaving a motley pattern of blue and grey between her black stripes.
Many of the tavern patrons whispered among themselves and craned their necks to see us. Although there were about nine hundred Rada in Telby City the total population numbered somewhere around four hundred thousand. The presence of two tigers tended to stand out.
‘Is Lira still asleep?’ I asked as our food was served.
‘Said she wasn’t hungry,’ my guide said. With a shrug, she forked rubbery egg into her mouth.
‘That’s hard to believe—I’m starving.’ I swallowed a hot chunk of meat that burned my tongue before I managed to swallow it.
‘I can see that,’ Sarlice said, through a condescending grin.
After a few more mouthfuls she paused and said, ‘Do you still think it’s a good idea?’
‘What?’
‘Traveling with her.’
‘Lira?’
‘We hardly know her.’
‘She hasn’t got anyone else—’
‘She isn’t part of our mission, Talon.’
‘Isn’t it the part of any Kriite’s mission to help someone in need?’
I glanced at the staircase, imagining Lira up in our dark room alone. I ate more quickly.
‘She’ll be all right now that we’ve reached Telby City,’ Sarlice argued. ‘She’s from a noble family, or claims to be.’ The last part was muttered.
A surge of protectiveness welled up in me. If Sarlice wouldn’t agree what would I do? I wanted to help Lira, but I didn’t want to alienate Sarlice. I couldn’t choose between them.
‘Will they fight over you, to demonstrate which one is the strongest?’ Rekala queried. Despite her connection to my mind she still couldn’t grasp the subtleties of human relationships. To her, my dilemma was like two male tigers fighting over a female.
‘It’s never that simple with people,’ I explained. I considered that perhaps Sarlice was feeling jealous of the younger woman. When Sarlice had told me about her experience with her uncle she had been confiding something she had never confided before. She must really respect and trust me to do that. Then along came Lira, and my attention had largely been diverted to her, and her needs, since then. I decided to be delicate.
‘I’d like to give her the choice,’ I replied. ‘Didn’t you ever rely on the kindness of strangers when you were traveling alone?’
‘No.’
‘Well, Lira is not as resourceful as you. And she doesn’t have a Rada-kin to hunt with and protect her.’
Sarlice raised one eyebrow and returned to her food.
I ate the rest of my breakfast quickly and made my way up the stairs to our room.
Lira was standing by the window looking out over the city when I entered.
‘Are you going to come downstairs?’ I asked.
‘If you’re not going to be there, I’d rather not.’
‘I could see if Sarlice will let you accompany us to the palace.’
She stared at the win
e stained floor and said, ‘I don’t want to even show my face in public, let alone go before the princess or the king.’
‘Let me see,’ I said, standing before her. ‘Won’t a bit of soap take care of it?’
She allowed me to take her face in my hands, her whole body going still at my touch. She looked into my eyes as I examined her. The mulberry stains across her chin and nose would probably just look like birth marks to a passing stranger.
‘I think you look fine. I mean… that is… not just fine… but….’
She stroked a smear of food from my cheek with a quirky smile.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Lira told me. ‘Just go. The sooner you go the sooner it will all be over and I’ll know if you are safe or not.’
So that’s what this is about, I thought, she’s afraid for me.
‘You know this place better than I,’ I said. ‘Do you have specific reason to fear for us today?’
‘Nay—but what if King Flale simply kills you to please the Zeikas?’
I smiled at her concern. ‘If that is the Lightmaker’s will, so be it. However, we’ve had no indication that the king’s feelings towards Jaria have dipped that low. He doesn’t want war with us, as far as we know.’
‘I sense in my spirit that our journey is far from over.’ Rekala confirmed from downstairs.
Lira grumbled. I opened my mouth to say more, but she stayed my next words with her finger across my lips.
‘Go then and I will say a prayer for you.’
Three Storeys was right on the eastern edge of the Town Circle. To the west was the forest we had seen last night and beyond it the palace. Sarlice and I navigated our way between the throngs of merchants and villagers bustling about the Circle. Rekala and Kestric overcame the drowsiness such a hot day brought and scouted ahead for us.
Sarlice headed for the gap in the trees which led to the palace. I glanced back at the marketplace noticing a formation of bare-chested Zeikas jogging in our direction. I nudged Sarlice who, after seeing what I was indicating, looked in the direction of the tigers to make sure they were out of sight.
The Zeikas passed us by without incident and a few people followed them through the forest path. Sarlice and I followed, receiving images from Rekala and Kestric in the woods.
The Zeikas turned north before the palace gates and crossed the Telby River over a wooden footbridge before disappearing into the forest on the north side of the river. Sarlice and I called the Rada-kin to our sides before greeting the guards at the southern gatehouse. Tiaro felt heavy in my earlobe, but her thoughts were quiet and watchful. The guards looked us up and down with some amusement and mumbled to one another about uninvited guests. Rekala curled her lip and breathed out a growling huff, but neither guard reacted.
‘What’s your business here, Rada?’
My guide bowed gracefully and said, ‘I am Tolite, Rada Sarlice, daughter of Laars and ambassador for the Rada of Lyth.’
I hesitated before offering my hand to the guard. ‘I’m Anzaii, Rada Talon, son of Mandus and Kerra, representative of the Rada of Jaria. We would like to request an audience with the king.’
The man ignored my outstretched hand and glanced at the two tigers.
The second guard’s eyes narrowed. ‘King Flale does not hold audience with the low born. I’m surprised to see wild Rada in the city at all, given recent events.’
Their blatant insults sent shards of ice through my soul, especially given how nicely we had both dressed for the occasion. If it was common for soldiers to think of Jarians and Lythians as ‘wild Rada’, what hope did we have? We clearly were not afforded the same respect as the Rada who were citizens of Telby City. Perhaps even they were suffering from the king’s alliance with Reltland.
‘Please forgive our outlander ways,’ Sarlice replied smoothly. ‘Jaria served Telby during the Realm Wars, but it is so long ago that many Telbions today do not recognise the significance of their contribution. Those who do remember know that Jaria and Lyth have neither high nor low born people in our culture.’
I realised that the rank of Ambassador the Jarian leaders had bestowed upon me had been an attempt to evoke a sense of privilege and importance that would get us past obstacles like this. A futile attempt.
‘Listen lady, if you’re not a member of the court you don’t get access to it today. Come back on trayaday when there’s an open court. Or send your request for a meeting via the waves to the steward. You cannot simply walk in here and expect to—’
Making nothing of their unhelpful attitude Sarlice withdrew a small piece of vellum from the pouch that was slung around her waist and handed it to the first guard.
‘What is it?’ the second asked, eyes widening as he stared over his comrade’s shoulder.
‘Bribing the king’s guards is a crime punishable by three days in the stocks,’ the first man stated, turning away, but still clutching the vellum.
Sarlice reached one hand to his shoulder, turning him back to face her. ‘You will take us to see the king or that credit will be gone long before you have a chance to use it.’
The other guard fingered the leather strap around his pike. I waited for Sarlice to speak, wondering just what kind of credit she had offered them.
The guard smirked at Sarlice and spat out the side of his mouth. He wrenched his shoulder out of her grip and held one finger up as if he was about to reprimand her again.
Kestric rushed forward, stopping just in front of the man. Then he circled back and paced. The second guard appeared unimpressed, but the first shuffled backwards, waving for his companion to retreat and share some private words. Even though Sarlice and I couldn’t hear them, Kestric could.
‘Should the king be disturbed for these?’ the timid guard asked.
The other raised his eyes. ‘You remember that reward Princess Denliyan promised us? We were to bring matters pertaining to the allies to her, in order to spare her father the trouble.’
‘Oh… aye,’ the other replied. ‘The people of Jaria are allies, not subjects, aren’t they?’
The aggressive guard tapped his head with his fist. ‘Now you’re gettin’ it. But if she ain’t around there’s nought for it. Off at her aunty’s isn’t it? Not to be disturbed.’
‘We had better see if the king wishes to see them, then,’ the first murmured. ‘It could be something important—like time to make them subjects and start charging taxes.’
The second guard sniggered loudly and leered at us. I stood with my arms relaxed forcing myself not to react to what the firetiger had overheard. The first guard waved for a herald to come down from the palace. After giving his message out of even Kestric’s earshot the guard stood beside his companion once more.
‘Accepting your thoughtful gift, we will see if your presence is welcome,’ he said to us, folding Sarlice’s piece of vellum and slipping it into his belt pouch.
I kept a stern expression as we waited, but sweat was beading on my forehead and my jaw ached with tension. The first guard was nonchalant, standing over us with his arms up in the air, stretching. I ground my teeth a little harder.
About half an hour later the herald came from the main entry and signalled to the guard to take our weapons and let us pass beneath the gatehouse. I smirked to myself about the pointlessness of removing our blades—Sarlice and I could shapechange at will, bringing far more deadly weapons to bear. As protocol demanded Rekala and Kestric were also allowed to enter.
Another four guards were waiting to escort us on the other side of the southern gangway. We passed between the watchtowers on either side of the entry to the palace. A statue of the king dominated the foyer. He was in an upright position with a shield and crossbow at his feet. Chains ending with spiked balls and bars were draped over his right shoulder. His uplifted hand held a sword with a crown grafted onto the hilt.
The herald led us past the guards’ barracks and into an immense auditorium. I had never imagined one room could be so big. The ceiling was at least as high as Th
ree Storeys, but I could only make out one other level above ground level. Light poured in through a central skylight making the room glow yellow. The guards pushed us from behind until we were standing beneath a balcony decorated with red and cream.
After another uncomfortably long wait King Flale appeared up there with an entourage of guards and attendants. His smooth pale fingers wrapped around the royal sceptre, a four foot rod of alvurium with a scarlet gemstone at its tip. Unlike king Aabyn, who had been my father’s friend, his brother was no warrior. The statue was a lie.
Flale’s shoulders were broad, his body stout but not rotund. His hair was cropped short to hide the fact he was going bald and his iron-grey beard was shaped in a broad wedge. Even the king’s facial skin was smooth and unlined, as if great care had been taken throughout his life to preserve it.
He was dressed in finery the likes of which I had never seen, and I had no name for some of the pieces of his attire. His cream trousers were almost hidden by black leather boots that reached to his thighs and a red overcoat with gold buttons, a gold band around his middle and numerous medallions and brooches.
It was cool in the wide-open space of the auditorium, but not enough to allow the King to wear his royal cloak all the time. Instead, one of his attendants carried it for him, ready at a moment’s notice to adorn the king with the thick, fur and velvet mantle if he should require it.
That King Flale didn’t feel the need to impress us with it was a foreboding sign.
Sarlice and I bowed low.
‘Your Majesty,’ my guide said. ‘Thank you for seeing us.’
The lines I had spent hours developing during our journey here suddenly disappeared from my mind. My heart pounded and my throat constricted such that I didn’t trust my voice not to falter if I spoke. I caught my tongue between my teeth and looked down at the stone floor, feeling how cold it was through the pads of Rekala’s paws.
‘I am Tolite, Rada Sarlice, daughter of Laars, the prime of Lyth and this is Anzaii, Rada Talon, the ambassador for Jaria.’
Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) Page 22