Edmath and Chelka shared a glance.
"What is your name, good swordsman?" asked Edmath.
"A good question! I am Dortlain, master swordsman of the Mouse Tribe."
"There is no Mouse Tribe here!" someone shouted from the crowd. "You call yourself a Zelian?"
"Oh, my fellow citizen," said Dortlain.
"Be quiet, you mad mercenary," a big man said. "We're all just waiting to get through the gate. Sell your skills somewhere else."
"Dear man, still your crude rejoinders."
A big man with a bow on his back and bristles on his chin pushed through the crowd. He wore a white rega, the sign of royalty. He glared at Dortlain.
"Don't you call me dear, accursed mercenary. I've studied war across this nation, and you're no blade master of Zel."
Edmath raised his hands.
"Good men, there is no need for such temper."
"Stay out of this, Saale," said the bowman, hand straying to a sword hanging from his hip.
Edmath stepped back.
"I'll test my mettle against yours if you wish," said Dortlain. "First blood, perhaps?"
"Don't be foolish," said Edmath.
"Quiet, mage," said the big man. He sneered at Dortlain. "You're on, madman."
"Mad mouse to you, my good man. There, I said good. Is that better?"
"Too late to apologize, idiot."
"Now, now. No need to slander one another."
"You boastful ass. I'll do worse than that." The man drew his blade, rasping from the scabbard to glint in the midday sun. "Make room, for we duel presently."
Chelka tugged Edmath back a step.
"No cure for the stupidity of warriors," she said in his ear.
"How terribly true.”
They watched as Dortlain and his opponent cleared a space to one side of the press. Bystanders gathered in a circle, giving them room to fight. Orpus Lengbyoi crept close, seal-eye pulsing, and peered into the circle.
The two men, one large and royal, the other small and without sash, faced each other, swords drawn. Lengbyoi had been right in what he'd seen before. Dortlain's short sword looked well-kept, but opposite the blade, a foot and a half of fine chain dangled, holding a thick ring a hand-span across at the bottom.
"You will pay for your lunacy," said the big man, holding his longsword before him. "I am a royal of the Bear Tribe, and you are not but a common rat."
"A mouse, my friend," said Dortlain. "I am a mouse."
"Mouse or rat, be damned," said the bear royal. "Have at you!"
He lunged at Dortlain, shifting into his hybrid tosh. A man once merely larger and hairier than his foe, now loomed a whole head taller than Dortlain, his face drawn back in an ursine snarl and his muscles bulging with fury.
The smaller man turned the blow with his blade, then ducked a swipe. He darted around the bear warrior's flank, but the man's fastidious guard kept him from striking.
"You defend yourself well, my friend." Dortlain smiled.
"If you are a mouse, show me your tosh!" roared the bear warrior. "But I won't wait, for I doubt you can." He pressed the attack as he spoke.
Dortlain retreated in a circle, parrying the bear warrior's blade at every turn. People started calling out bets. Others swore in amazement. The bear warrior grew more and more furious. Every blow carried increasing force from a seemingly limitless well of strength.
"Behold, liar," said the bear royal. "You are cornered. I am not responsible if this blow should carve you in half."
"Now, now."
"Be silent!"
Dortlain's eyes narrowed for an instant. The bear warrior hefted his blade in both hands. Dortlain changed.
His eyes became beady, his dark skin sprouted fur white as snow. From his back, a long pink tail uncoiled, emerging from the top of his trousers. The tail's end looped within the ring on the chain at the end of his sword's hilt and held it tight.
Dortlain's block stopped the bear warrior's blow with a resounding clang of metal on metal.
Edmath stared, not doubting for a moment the truth of the bear royal's boast he could cut Dortlain in two. But the mouse man's blade held the lethal stroke back.
"Impossible! There is no Mouse Tribe."
"A quiet people speak up when needed," said Dortlain. "No cause is lost when my tribe fights for it."
In a flash, he cut a red line across the bear royal's wrist. He flicked slender stream of blood onto the dirt by the road.
"I believe that is my victory, friend."
"You bastard." The man's tosh subsided. He sagged on his feet, breathing heavily.
"You fight well."
"You also, mad mouse."
Lengbyoi laughed. A handful of people applauded. Dortlain sheathed his blade and shed his tosh.
"Will someone treat my honorable opponent's wound?" he said. He flipped a coin into the air. "An imperial silver to the first to step forward."
A young woman carrying a strip of cloth emerged from the bystanders at once.
Edmath shook his head, smiling.
"What a strange sight."
"Odd, indeed. How many tribes are hidden within Zel?" Chelka said.
"Who can say," Edmath said. "It is puzzling how he can use a tosh, given his tribe is not recognized by the Sphere of Humanity."
Dortlain turned toward them.
"My good Saales," he said. "Welcome to Kidar."
"Thank you for the welcome, and the demonstration, sir Dortlain," said Edmath.
"May I offer my services to you? You may be able to use a sword."
"Why not?" said Edmath, grinning.
Chelka raised her eyebrows.
Dortlain held out his hand.
"You shall not regret this," he said.
Edmath shook with him.
"Your skills are impressive."
"Ah, but they're no magic," said Dortlain. "Now, my good Saales, I offer more than a sword. I'm well studied in the best places to stay in this city. Allow me to show you."
Dortlain showed them to an inn with a gated garden. There they left Lengbyoi to nourish from the soil.
Chelka led Edmath and Dortlain to the center of the city, over bridges crossing the many streams of the delta flowing into the bay, and to the Consular Palace.
"Juro Nane is an old friend." Chelka glanced at Edmath as they approached the gates. "With his request for help, I think it’s fortunate I was able to come here with you."
"As you say, my dear."
Edmath took in the shiny brownstone, the many canals, moats, and other waterways flowing through barred gates in and out of the palace. Coral grew from the walls of every moat and the submerged supports of every bridge. Guard towers ringed everything, each one set with a ballista in the armored peak. A fortified keep with a single black marble dome at its center rose above it all.
"I hope this Juro has not grown arrogant, governing from such a fabulous fortress," said Edmath.
"He wouldn't," said Chelka. "You and he have much in common, Ed."
"I hope to like him more than his older brother."
"You will. I do."
"Is that so?"
Chelka sighed.
"When I was under Matron Akustotha's ward here, he was a friend. Naturally, we got into trouble together."
"Is that why the former Matron dislikes you?"
"I believe so, Ed."
Dortlain talked with the guards at the gated bridge. He turned to Edmath and Chelka.
"My dear employers," he said. "They wish to confirm your identities before allowing us inside."
Chelka's face flushed.
"Good employers," she said.
"Is that not what I said?"
"The word dear implies a romantic relationship," said Edmath.
"Oh, of course. Forgive me, Lord Benisar."
"It’s no great issue," said Edmath.
He and Chelka stepped forward, showing their regas
and Chelka's signet. The guards opened the gate’s small door and allowed them inside.
Across another bridge, they walked to the island where the keep stood. Guards let them inside, allowing them to keep all their tools and even Dortlain's sword all the way into the hall of the consul.
Juro Nane sat upon a simple wooden chair in the center of the hall, pale-skinned, dark-haired, and dressed in a dark tunic and trousers, both outfitted with fencing pads. Small of build, he lacked a head on Edmath and perhaps a third of one on Chelka.
As a younger sibling of Razili and Oresso, he would have been forbidden to study magic by family tradition, the reverse of other tribe's highest royalty.
One day Oresso or Razili would replace their mother as King or Queen of their tribe.
Juro's animated smile suggested to Edmath he might well be satisfied spending his whole life as Consul of Kidar.
Edmath, Chelka, and Dortlain bowed.
"My lady, Chelka Benisar," Juro said, rising from his chair and approaching on bare feet over pale stone tiles. "No need to bow, any of you who travel with Chelka."
Edmath raised his head, an unbidden smile forming.
Chelka looked at Juro.
"Good Consul Nane," she said. "thank you for such a pleasant greeting."
He spread his arms wide, beaming.
"Welcome back does not begin to explain my feelings." He hugged Chelka around the middle, pressing his head to her. He spoke softer, "I'm so glad to see you once more after all these years, my dear friend."
"Dear," murmured Dortlain so only Edmath could hear.
Heat rose to Edmath's face. He directed his gaze straight ahead, avoiding Chelka's eyes.
"Juro, old friend," said Chelka. "I'm sorry you missed my wedding."
"The wedding, indeed," said Juro, breaking his embrace from Chelka. "This man is your husband, I take it?"
"Saale Edmath Benisar," said Edmath. "Proud bearer of her name."
"Ah yes..." Juro turned to Edmath. "I heard Edmath Donroi was a rake of sorts, but my princely brother exaggerates."
"Consul Nane, I take it you don't feel the same way?" Edmath said.
"Why would I dislike you, my good Saale? I neither carry my brother's grudges or my sister's affection."
Edmath's face burned.
"Affection? I had no idea."
"Oh, don't be that way," said Juro. "Kidar is a city of love. I won't judge you, regardless."
Chelka put a hand one Edmath's shoulder. She gently brushed his neck beside his rega. He glanced at her, seeing a face as red as his own.
Dortlain laughed.
"A city of love! You address why I adore this place, honorable consul."
Juro stepped back and raised his eyebrows.
"Excuse me. Who are you?"
"My name is Dortlain, a master of the sword."
"Indeed? I enjoy the martial arts myself."
"Perhaps we should measure our skills against each other at some time, Lord Nane."
"Indeed!" Juro beamed at the three of them. "I take it you hired him?" he asked Chelka.
“Edmath’s idea,” said Chelka. The color in her face returned to normal.
“Good man,” said Juro. “I’m jealous. Had I known of this agreeable Dortlain, I may have hired him first.”
“Fortune has her ways,” said Edmath. “Does she not?”
“And luck is a lady,” said Juro with a grin. “But please, we ought to discuss defense plans for there is to be a gala tomorrow night. All of you are invited, of course.”
Edmath laughed.
“I see Kidar has more parties than Diar.”
“A city of love,” said Juro. “But also of war. Let us attend to the next one, shall we?”
A squadron of military levoths arrived in Kidar the next morning, led by Onserun’s frog-whale. Friends arrived with the army. Brosk, Ninafi, and Kana quickly found Edmath and Chelka prior to the gala scheduled for the evening. Dortlain was out looking for fancy clothes.
“Your people are still in Diar?” Chelka asked Kana once everyone greeted each other.
Kana nodded.
“I could not ask them to fight again so soon. I’m only here because of Brosk.”
Edmath nodded.
“Any luck finding more about that rider who attacked us, Ninafi?”
“None,” she said. “but I doubt we’ll run into him here.”
“One can never be sure,” said Chelka. “I hope you’re right.”
That night, all six of them attended Juro's gala in the Tidal Palace, a luxurious structure built so the pools within arose and diminished with natural movements of the sea. At high tide, the pools on the lower levels welled to their limits, and at low tide, they drained away.
Edmath and Chelka dressed in fine clothes and fresh regas. They met Brosk and Kana inside the Tidal Palace while Juro Nane greeted his brother Oresso, who had arrived with the fleet to assist the defense of the city.
Mutrari Sinnet, Fox Minister of Roshi, approached the city with her army, west of the border.
While Edmath disliked Oresso's presence, he knew his fellow Saale from Lexine Park would want to talk with Chelka, if not Edmath. He couldn't help annoyance at the entitlement the Coral Tribe high royalty held toward their relationships with Chelka. At least Juro seemed eccentric rather purely possessive, unlike his brother.
They ate and drank, and as the evening went on the water rose within the tidal passages below each pool.
In the shadows, dancing with torchlight, Edmath put his arm around Chelka's waist. Each sipped a glass of western wine. Strong stuff, Edmath thought.
Then Oresso and Juro approached them.
"Hail, Lady and Lord Benisar," said Oresso with a flushed smile, one more painful-looking on his face than it was for Edmath to behold.
Juro drew close, gazing at Chelka.
"Oresso has been telling me of your exploits in the Worm King's insurrection. What an awful interruption to your wedding night!"
"An inconvenience," she said, her arm slipping around Edmath. "We found a way through."
"Of course we did." Edmath smiled at Chelka. "In hindsight, being offered heroism as a wedding gift seems fitting, given everything that has transpired since."
She shook her head, blushing.
"Ed, don't belittle what happened. People died that night."
Edmath sighed.
"Another day, my dear, I would agree with you."
"We're on the verge of war again," said Oresso. "Yet it feels different this time."
"Well-observed, brother."
"This time we stand against Roshi alone, not rebel Zelians," said Chelka.
"Perhaps you're right," Oresso said.
Brosk yelled at someone on the other side of the inner balconies, drawing Edmath's attention. The normally gentle Whale Prince barked in a furious exchange with one of the generals.
"Someone else made light of the situation, I fear," said Edmath. "Prince Naopaor is sensitive to that manner of talk."
"As is correct," said Oresso.
Juro nodded.
"I will go see to this." His gaze lingered on Kana standing beside Brosk. "His lover seems unprepared to quiet him."
Juro set off.
Oresso sighed, swirled his drink, and looked at Chelka and Edmath.
"A shame he showed this side."
"Brosk rarely drinks," said Edmath. "He handles it poorly sometimes."
"I agree," said Oresso. "I wonder if my brother would have noticed him were it not for the Rooster Tribe woman at his side."
"Juro has a fixation with women?" Chelka raised her eyebrows.
"In general, yes," said Oresso. "It's a little embarrassing to watch. He is consul now."
Edmath chuckled.
"Give the man his eccentricities."
"As you say," said Oresso. "He is my brother, after all."
"Ed," said Chelka. "I'm going speak with Brosk."
/>
"If you think Juro needs help, of course."
"He may." She smiled, then left them.
"So here we stand," said Edmath.
Oresso shrugged.
"I'm past hard feelings, Ed."
"Are you now?"
"What did I just say?"
"You said you were."
"And such is the truth. As I was saying, however, just yesterday my brother told me he saw a beautiful woman in the city. Apparently, she drew his attention so much he approached her and asked her name despite the fact that another man already stood at her side."
"It's more amusing when that man isn't me," said Edmath.
"Ah, so he spoke with you and Chelka?"
"Of course. We arrived a few days ago."
"I see. Well, my brother told me this woman, Hyreki is apparently a Saale too. Have you ever heard of a Saale by that name, Ed?"
All warmth drained from Edmath's face.
"Hyreki Denyal?"
"Yes--How did you know?"
"She is a mage, but a Saale, I think not. She is an enemy, a foe I encountered in Diar months ago. If she is in the city, there could be trouble. Did Juro say where he met her?"
“In fact, he did.”
“You must take me there tomorrow.”
“I must? Very well, then.”
“Thank you, Prince Nane.”
“Not like you to call me by my title.”
“Not like you to give me assistance.”
“Times change.”
“Well observed.”
"It's the public baths. What is your plan, Edmath?" Oresso eyed the building before them.
"You spotted Hyreki Dental, an enemy of the empire here yesterday, before the party. Remember? We must find her at once."
"What makes you think this woman, this enemy will be here now? A public building sees people come and go as they will."
"Of course, I performed an augury with the help of a local relic once I heard."
"Too clever by half."
"I've been told that before, but not by you." Edmath drew the stethian from his belt. He looped a striker over each finger on his free hand.
Oresso nodded.
“Be careful. We don't know who will be in there, or how many accomplices Hyreki could have."
"She's slim, brown-haired, and if you squint long enough you may see magic, insubstantial chains emerging from her back. I don't understand the chains. Chelka theorizes these are tools of her discipline. She's a Muborque. Their nature is still mysterious to me, but I suspect they are similar to us as mages, though they do not always need to strike to fuel their spells."
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