The adamantine palace

by Stephen Deas

He watched her look around. She didn't say anything, but her face told him all he needed to know. Adequate, she was thinking. Adequate. He felt Lord Meteroa bristle behind him. Apparently her face was telling him the same thing.

  He waited. This was where Queen Shezira was supposed to introduce her daughters and he got to find out which one would be sharing his bed before the month was out. And then she was supposed to explain what had taken her so long, and why he'd had to spend days out here when he could have been back in Furymouth, slipping into Queen Zafir's bedchamber every other night and helping himself to an occasional cousin in between.

  Finally, Queen Shezira nodded.

  'We met,' she said, 'a long time ago. When Hyram was made speaker. Do you remember? Your father was showing you off.'

  Jehal smiled and bowed and gritted his teeth. As if I could possibly forget. 'Yes, Your Holiness, I remember very well.'

  Shezira stepped to one side 'This is my middle daughter, Jaslyn.' She was pointing at the plain one. Jehal breathed a small sigh of relief. 'You won't remember her, because she only wanted to stay with the dragons and spent all her time hiding in the palace eyrie.'

  Jaslyn's face tightened a notch. Jehal bowed to her. 'Grown into a most beautiful princess. Dragons are our life, Princess Jaslyn. They are what sets us apart, and without them we are nothing. You are welcome to spend as much time at Clifftop as you wish. We will set aside rooms for your exclusive use while you are here.'

  Jaslyn seemed to soften, although only a fraction. Shezira's face didn't change at all. 'The lady at the rear is my knight-marshal, Lady Nastria.'

  Ah, the dangerous one. Good. I don't have to be nice to her.

  'And this is my youngest daughter, Princess Lystra.'

  Princess Lystra bowed to him, but her eyes still never quite left his own. Jehal tried to hide a smirk. Sweet, with a hint of spice. Now, is that the way you really are, or have you simply taken the trouble to find out what I like?

  'Princess Lystra.' Jehal made a point of not bowing in return for a second or two. 'I… I… am overwhelmed. I have heard of the beauty and elegance of the ladies of the north, but you must surely be the most delightful, the most sublime, the most radiant… Why, I'm not sure I can marry you, for if I do, you will be the fairest of my father's subjects, and every lady in Furymouth will seethe with jealousy.'

  Princess Lystra blushed prettily. So… she might be clever enough to recognise flattery when she hears it, but she still likes it. Good.

  'Would that not be the case whoever Your Highness marries?'

  Jehal blinked. Queen Shezira clearly didn't approve of her daughter being so forward, but Jehal found that he rather did. Apparently I like a little flattery too. Well who would have guessed?

  'You are too kind, Your Highness.' He smiled and gave a little sigh, and then gestured to the walls of Clifftop. 'Shall we clear the landing field, Your Holiness?' He spoke to Queen Shezira now, who gave a little nod of her head. The best bit, Jehal thought, of being a prince, was that you only had to do the interesting things. The tiresome logistics of dealing with all these dragons, all the riders that Queen Shezira had brought with her, servants, alchemists and so on and so forth, all that was entirely Lord Meteroa's problem.

  As they walked, Jehal stole a glance at the skies, looking for Shezira's fabled perfect white. He was wasting his time, though. The other dragons were all still too high to make out any colouring, all circling silhouettes and shadows. He was itching to ask, but that would have been crass.

  They paused for a moment at the doors to Clifftop. Queen Shezira was obliged to survey his men, all dressed up in their gleaming dragonscale. For a moment, all was still and silent except for the distant waves crashing against the base of the cliffs.

  'Your riders are a credit to your father, Prince Jehal,' said Queen Shezira, and Jehal couldn't decide whether she meant it, or whether she was simply saying what she was supposed to say.

  Either way, there was only one correct response. He bowed. 'You're too kind, Your Holiness. My father will be delighted to hear your compliments. Your own are known throughout the realms for their strength and their splendour.' Which was rubbish, of course. If anything, the riders of the northern realms were known for quite the opposite.

  Queen Shezira's face didn't flinch, but Jehal caught a flicker of disdain from Princess Jaslyn. Full of fire and fury this one. All austerity and determination and not even a flicker of fun. I can than my ancestors that she's not the one I'm marrying. A real joy she's going to be at the wedding feast. The thought made him shudder. There were certain duties that fell to elder sisters at these times. Poor Princess Lystra…

  'Excuse me, Your Highness, but may I ask what's making that sound?'

  Jehal's thoughts fell into disarray. 'Pardon me?'

  Lystra was looking straight at him again. 'What is making that sound, Your Highness?'

  Jehal cocked his head. 'I'm sorry, Princess Lystra, but I don't hear anything.'

  'She means the sea,' muttered Shezira.

  For a moment Jehal almost forgot himself. 'Have you not…?' Never seen the sea?

  Lystra bowed her head, looking abashed. 'I have seen the Sea of Sand and the Sea of Salt, Your Highness.'

  Jehal smiled. 'And I have seen neither, and they are doubtless mighty and magnificent. We have a different sea here, and I will show it to you at once.' He glanced at Queen Shezira. 'If Your Holiness will permit.'

  Shezira gave a curt nod. Lord Meteroa and the stewards of Clifftop would doubtless start pulling their hair out at this diversion from the precise script of the day, but Jehal couldn't help himself. Never seen the sea?

  He led the way around Clifftop towards the edge, where the land fell away, sheered and shattered by some unimaginable violence.

  'Have a care, Your Highnesses. The edge is treacherous. It's a long way down, and many people have fallen over the years. The sea pulls them down, somehow.' He stopped a couple of feet from the edge and offered Princess Lystra his hand. 'The sea, Your Highness. The endless Sea of Storms.'

  Lystra took his hand, and so he gave it a gentle squeeze and hoped that Queen Shezira wouldn't notice.

  'It's… breathtaking.' The cliffs dropped a hundred feet to the roaring crashing waves. The sea went on forever, a churning maze of white-capped waves stretched as far as the eye could see, fading into the grey haze of the far horizon, a mighty monster that could sometimes make even a dragon seem small and tame, jehal smiled at Lystra. Up here on the edge you could feel the spray and even taste the salt in the air. Lystra was staring, mouth agape. 'It goes on and on and doesn't stop! Like the Sea of Sand, except made of water!'

  Jehal gave her an indulgent smile. 'The Taiytakei say that if you sail far enough, and can navigate the storms, there are other lands across the waters, so distant that you would have to cross from one end of the realms to the other to even begin to understand how far away they are.' Mentally he congratulated himself. There. That didn't sound patronising at all.

  'All that water…' Lystra took a step closer to the edge. Jehal tightened his grip on her hand and she stopped. The cliffs plunged vertically down into the sea.

  'There is a path, from the back of Clifftop, that runs down to the sea,' he said. 'The steps are worn and slippery and the way is treacherous, but there is a cave there that can only be reached by those steps. To truly see the waves crash on the rocks and send their plumes of spray up into the air, there is no better place than that cave. I will take you there one day.'

  Jaslyn suddenly walked right up to the edge and looked down. For a moment it seemed to Jehal that she swayed in the wind that whipped and swirled up the face of the cliff. If she did, though, she quickly caught herself, and the next thing he knew Lystra had slipped her hand out of his and was standing next to her elder sister, laughing.

  13

  Furymouth

  Shezira had little choice but to bite her tongue and hold her anger. As soon as they entered Clifftop, the rituals began in earnest. First the break
ing of bread with Prince Jehal and his lords to assuage the hunger that came after a day on dragonback. Then there were scented baths and massages to ease sore muscles. After that she had to dress, and then came the formal feast, which ran from dusk until the middle of the night and beyond. Parts of it might still have been running when Shezira rose again at dawn.

  Then she had to dress for the journey to Furymouth. That was the trouble with being a queen. She always had to be somewhere or do something, which meant there was no time left to keep an eye on her daughters, and it was up to Lady Nastria to make sure they looked the way they were supposed to look, and that they appeared in the right places at the right times. Without Nastria, Shezira was quite sure that Jaslyn, at least, would have sought out Prince Jehal's secret steps and spent the whole time in his cave. Likely as not, Lystra would have followed her.

  Finally, the carriages to Furymouth were ready to go. All her riders were mounted up as escort, there was nothing left for her to do and she had her daughters to herself again.

  'What do you think you're doing?' she snapped as soon as the carriage wheels were rolling. 'Both of you! Talking back at him? Holding his hand?'

  Lystra bowed her head and peered back through her eyelashes, but it was Jaslyn who answered.

  'He offered it. It is him you should take issue with.'

  'And I will.' Shezira glared back. 'But that does not excuse the taking of it. And besides, Lystra should be speaking in her defence, not leaving it to you, as always. You will not be here a month from now.'

  Jaslyn's eyes flashed. 'No, and I shouldn't be here now. I should be in the mountains, hunting down whoever killed Orcus and stole our Snow.'

  Snow. That was the name the Scales had given it, wasn't it? Shezira growled. 'You are a royal princess, whether you like it or not. You go where your duty takes you. And you do not dance about like some farmyard peasant.'

  'They are more… forward in these parts of the realms,' said Lystra softly.

  Jaslyn and Shezira both looked at her. 'What did you say?'

  'Since I was forbidden to go to Outwatch for months and months before we left, I spent some of my time in the library. I thought I'd try to find out a bit more about where I was going.' She leaned towards Shezira and her voice dropped. The carriage picked up speed. 'I think they are more, uh… Mother, do you know what a southern wedding is like? Have you been to one?'

  Shezira shook her head. 'Knight-Marshal Nastria assures me that their customs are no different to our own.'

  'Did Lady Nastria mention what you have to do on the night of the wedding?'

  'Me?' Shezira blinked.

  'Yes, mother. You. And Jaslyn.'

  A smirk died on Jaslyn's lips. 'What are you talking about, little sister?'

  Lystra leaned forward even more, until all three of them were huddled into the centre of the carriage. She whispered: 'It's about the consummation.'

  'Lystra!' Shezira's feet began to fidget. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be angry with her daughters.

  'Mother, I do know what happens on a wedding night. I've been watching dragons mate since I was five.'

  Inside, Shezira squirmed. This was not the conversation she'd been meaning to have. 'Utile Princess, it's not quite the same…'

  'Oh don't be silly, of course I know that. There are lots of books in our library.'

  Antros. Antros and his library…

  'Picture books, mother.'

  'Lystra!'

  'Well that's what you get for not letting me fly dragons with Jaslyn.' She smiled like the sun for a moment and then glanced at her sister. 'And you can stop laughing, big sister, because you and mother are going to have to strip Prince Jehal naked and take him to my bridal chamber, and before you let him in you are obliged to make certain that he's quite definitely ready to fulfil his nuptial duty.' She giggled.

  'Lystra! How dare you! That's preposterous.' Shezira clenched her fists and sat back, half filled with fury. The other half of her had gone numb with horror.

  'That's what the books in the library say. With pictures.'

  'Ridiculous.' The queen glared at her daughters, one after the other. Bloody Antros. It can't be true though. Can it? Are they that different from us here? 'You should not believe everything you read in books. Whatever they may do in this part of the world, you are my daughters, and you will behave as I have taught you. If Jehal wants to parade you like a whore after he marries you, that's his business. But until then, by all the ancestors, you will deport yourselves as princesses should or you will never fly from my eyries again. Do you understand me?'

  After that there wasn't much to say, and a sullen silence filled the carriage. At midday they stopped for a while beside a tranquil rocky bay. A small army of servants was already there, clearly having camped the night to be ready for them. Course after course of cold meats and breads and a hundred varieties of strange vegetables marinated in oils were passed in front of them, until Shezira though she would burst. At least this time her daughters behaved themselves impeccably. Prince Jehal remained flawless, flirting effortlessly on the edges of decorum without ever quite crossing the line. If she was honest with herself for a moment Shezira could see exactly why Lystra was so taken with him. He was both handsome and charming, after all.

  Just a pity he's poisoning his father, eh? Oh, my precious girl, what have I brought you to?

  'I spoke to our knight-marshal,' said Shezira when they set off again in the afternoon. 'It seems little Lystra is partially right. Fortunately we are merely invited to take part in this ritual, not obliged. So we can all thank our ancestors for that.'

  Lystra giggled, and Shezira couldn't help but smile, and even Jaslyn was grinning and laughing, and the air in the carriage was much better after that.

  'What else did your books tell you?' asked Jaslyn.

  'Preferably the ones without pictures,' added Shezira.

  'I know that King Tyan's realm is the richest.'

  'You don't need a library to tell you that.'

  'Their eyrie is so far away from Furymouth.'

  'Another thing I can see for myself. Did they tell you why?'

  She frowned. 'Ships. Dragons don't like them. A pair of ships belonging to the Taiytakei traders was burned by dragons in the time of King Tyan's great-great-great-grandfather. The survivors said that the Taiytakei would never come back unless the dragons were moved away from the city, and so that's what the king did.'

  'He moved his eyrie?' Jaslyn looked shocked.

  Even Shezira raised an eyebrow.

  'Hard to believe,' she said, 'and a story I've never heard before. What of the Taiytakei, then? What did your books say of them?'

  Lystra shrugged. 'I think they might be some sort of wizards.'

  There wasn't anything Shezira could think of to say to that. Antros had filled his library with all kinds of rubbish. Shezira had never quite understood why, since as far as she knew, he'd never read a book in his life. She'd been the same, far too busy raising daughters and flying dragons and then ruling her realm when Antros was gone.

  Maybe I should have gone in there sometimes. Then I'd know about southern wedding-night rituals. The thought made her smile. Maybe when I'm too old to ride any more…

  Outside, the countryside rolled past – sandy beaches, little farming villages, fields filled with cattle and corn; wagons and ox-carts, men leaning on staves, gawping as the carriages passed by. Hot, Shezira mused, as her eyelids grew heavy. I'd forgotten how hot it is in the south.

  She dozed. When she woke up again, the sun was darker and the sound of the carriage wheels on the road had changed. Cobbles.

  She snapped awake, sat up and looked out of the window. They were driving between houses packed together so tightly that they were piled on top of each other. They leaned into the street, reaching out towards each other ever closer, until rooftops almost touched and the sky was pushed out of sight. Now and then crossroads punctured the gloom, bright flashes of sunlight as the carriages t
rotted past. These other streets fell away, sloping down towards the sea, and with each one Shezira caught glimpses of the harbour, of masts and rippling waves, and the sun glinting on the water. Shielded from the winds by the curves of the bay, the sea here was still and calm. Lystra still couldn't tear her eyes away.

  'Now it's just like the Mirror Lakes!'

  Shezira nodded. The view from King Tyan's palace, built at the summit of the hill that overlooked the city, was better. She dimly remembered peering over his walls, sitting on someone's shoulders, gawping at the strangeness of it all. The ships with their flags and their masts and their sails had seemed like weird water monsters, and all the cranes around the harbour walls were like a forest of strange trees with no leaves. And the smell, the smell of the sea, reaching out over the ubiquitous stink of the city… She'd been five, maybe six years old.

  'You'll see many strange and different sights here, Lystra. Keep your sense of wonder, but keep it to yourself or people will take you for a fool.'

  Jaslyn tutted and rolled her eyes, but Shezira could see that Lystra understood.

  'Let your eyes sparkle at everything you see, but say nothing.

  Do that and Prince Jehal will be yours to command.' She laughed, thinking of Antros. 'And he won't even know it.'

  'As long as you spread your legs whenever he asks and give him plenty of sons,' muttered Jaslyn, which made Shezira want to slap her. She didn't, though, because the carriage was slowing to a halt. A moment later the door opened, and Prince Jehal was standing there.

  'Your Holiness.' He bowed and offered his hand. 'Welcome to Furymouth.'

  They were at the foot of King Tyan's palace now, and the view out over the sea was unbroken. Close into the harbour, dozens of small fishing boats bobbed in the water. Further out, three much larger ships sat in a line.

  'There should be dragons, Your Holiness' said Jehal. 'I told the Taiytakei that the next Speaker of the Realms was coming to give her daughter away to be married, and there should be dragons filling the air with their fire. In recompense the Taiytakei offer you this, Queen Shezira, in your honour. A sight never seen before in any realm.'