Tanti stroked the bird’s neck with the tip of his finger. “Dear Runya,” he said.
“Gerrooo, terrooo.” The bird pecked his finger lightly.
“Terrooo,” Tanti replied.
“Pardon me, sir? Can you please repeat that?” The servant who entered the room startled Tanti.
“I just… Sorry. I have to feed the birds,” Tanti said. “With their special food, I’m afraid.”
“Runya food?” asked the short man, whose back was hunched and hair was tied back with a blue silk ribbon. “Do you mean semolina and vanilla cookies?”
“Yes.”
“Did they already get their pomegranate nectar?”
Tanti’s mouth dropped open, and he was struck mute.
“I think you may need some nectar yourself. Would you like to accompany me to the dining room?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send someone to take care of them right away,” the servant said. “Noble birds. They’ve flown quite the distance, obviously. My name is Afleck,” he said and bowed again. “And I’m in charge of your welfare and needs. I’ll always be close by. All you have to do is call me. Like this.” Afleck cupped his mouth with his hand and yelled loudly, making Tanti jump. “Afleck! And I’ll appear.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Afleck,” Tanti said, the servant’s shout still echoing in his ears. He looked anxiously at a sleeping Dionun, who hadn’t budged an inch. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Would you like to try?” Afleck asked, his eyes glittering yearningly. “Here, I’ll go out, and you call me.”
“No need—” Tanti started saying, but Afleck had already disappeared behind the door. Tanti called his name, and the servant appeared quickly, bowing and smiling.
“At your service, sir. What do you need?”
“Shall we go eat?”
“Of course. Let me show you the way.”
“What about my friend Dionun?”
“Food will be brought to him when he wakes up. All he has to do is call my name: ‘Afleck!’ And I’ll appear and bring him food.”
“Very good,” Tanti said. “Well then, let us go, Afleck.”
Chapter 29
An Important Meeting
The hall filled with furious ministers, their deputies, and individuals of high-ranking positions. They had been summoned to an important meeting, while waiting with their wives for the beginning of the last summer ball. They were dressed lavishly and colorfully, and decorated their persons with ornamented hats, golden silk vests, and cloaks or wraps adorned with bright laces.
Apart from their irritated bemusement regarding the reason they had been summoned just as the ball was about to begin, and their fear that they might miss the prestigious dancing competition, there was another sole subject that was discussed: What would Queen Cyan wear this time? Could anyone guess the best-kept secret in the country?
What had caused the king to ignore the significance of the event and call them to the Meeting Hall? No excuses were accepted. Besides, they couldn’t excuse their absence by claiming they were ill if the messengers found them in the decorated and bright hall, wearing festive clothes, cheerful and in high spirits.
The king himself waited for their arrival while sitting on his throne. Balanter went over the list of names, and studied them with grave eyes. Obviously, they had been summoned to receive a short notice regarding the competition rules, division of roles, or something similar. They’d return to the party they’d been anticipating in no time. It was just a shame that time was awasting.
A strange man entered the Meeting Hall, accompanied by the senior servant Afleck, who led him to sit in the guest booth. The young man wasn’t very tall, and his step was light. He wore an embroidered vest with colorful tassels hanging from it. On his head, he wore a flat hat with a short visor. Around his neck was a black scarf, decorated with delicate, angular lines and shapes. He bowed gracefully before the king and Balanter before he sat down.
Protests and complaints were immediately replaced with curious whispers.
“They say he’s a Hue-man, son of the forest.”
“He probably brought a list of competitors to the summer competitions.”
“Nonsense. He isn’t a Hue-man. He’s Izlandic.”
“What’s an Izmandi?”
“Didn’t you here? He said an Izlamdi. Some kind of furroid, I think. A hybrid of White with cave cats.”
“Did you hear that? Do you see a cat here?”
“His mother forgot to slap him one when he was born.”
“Or she gave him one too many.”
“Ha ha.”
“Stop talking about my mother, or I’ll…”
“Look, there’s another one.”
“Another Hue-man forester.”
“Hush! It’s Queen Cyan.”
The Blue queen’s impressive entrance prevented the fight that was brewing among the ministers, their deputies, and their secretaries. Silence fell upon the hall. Tanti also raised his eyes, and saw someone in his own image.
Queen Cyan hadn’t wasted any time. In the afternoon, she had sewn clothes that matched Tanti’s attire. Her golden head was also adorned with a felt hat. She walked gracefully to her place by the king as she smiled and waved at Tanti, enjoying the stares directed at her. Her glamorous entrance had been planned for the ball. However, the crowd in the Meeting Hall was also worthy of her skills and effort.
“Is everyone here?” the king asked Balanter.
“The military commander is missing. General Shipur.” Balanter addressed the senior general. “Where is Minister Azium Nasusion?”
“Should I wake him?”
“He’s sleeping?”
“Usually.”
“We’ll wait for him.” Balanter and the king exchanged glances. What was happening with their military commander? In the past, he’d been full of life, daring, and efficient.
“I see you invited the Izmerandi,” the king said. “I assume you’ve thought of something.”
“Actually, I met him on my way to the meeting,” Balanter said. “And I thought of inviting him to the meeting. I’m not sure yet if I was correct to do so.”
“What about the Lizard?”
“I had a long conversation with him,” Balanter said. “And I received all the information he could give me. Now he’s sleeping in his room.”
“Did you station guards at the room’s entrance?”
“If I wanted to station guards, I’d station them at the windows, ventilation shafts, and chimney entrance. Maybe the ceiling too. There’s no point in stationing guards, Your Majesty. The man can escape, if such he desires, and nothing will stop him.”
“We’ve seen that,” the king said. “But I’m not comfortable with the fact that a Lizard is walking about freely in my castle.”
“If you’ll allow me, Your Majesty,” Balanter said. “It was my impression that the man loves his country and is ready to fight for it, in his own way. He’s a scion of the ancient dynasty of Lizards that fought beside the king during the War of the Edges. He’s not part of that band of thieves that call themselves ‘Lizards’ and sully the name of the association as it was in the past. Considering our state of affairs, I prefer him as friend instead of foe and fugitive.”
“I hope you’re not mistaken,” the king said. “I don’t trust Lizards.”
“Here he is, our military commander,” said Cyan, tearing a thread with her teeth. She had to finish a new garment that she had designed a short while ago. She threaded her needle when the military commander sat down, apologizing, his face somber.
Balanter signaled to his secretary, Ashan, who stood up and raised his hand. The ministers fell silent.
“Your Majesties, King Dark Blue and Queen Cyan, the king’s advisor Balanter, ministers, commanders, deputies, and se
cretaries,” Ashan said. “And our honorable guest, Tanti Marin from Izmeran.” A whisper passed through the ministers. “We’re opening this meeting, in which we will discuss urgent and grave matters. Your attention please.”
The king signaled Balanter to get up and say his piece.
“I wish I didn’t have to say what I’m saying now,” Balanter said. “I won’t weary you with preludes and explanations, but just say it simply. We’ve found out that on the other side of the border separating us from Anura—a border recently closed—the Whites are preparing for war. Preparations are occurring on several levels: recruiting soldiers, arming the army, increased training, and movements of young enthusiasts inciting hate. The Defense Guard headquarters have increased punishment to opposers and have gained the support of most of the people.” He fell silent and allowed the crowd to absorb his words. “We know of Blues who have crossed the border, were captured, and imprisoned as spies. As far as we know, five of them have already been executed. One has escaped. The Izmerandi, Tanti Marin, joined him. Tanti was also wrongfully imprisoned, and the two men brought us this important news.” Balanter took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for spoiling your happiness and calling you out of the ball before it started. However, when faced with what I just told you, we cannot postpone our actions, not even by one hour. There, on the other side of the border, the Whites are preparing for war, and we have a lot of catching up to do.”
He rested his eyes on every one of his people. “That’s it. I’ve said my piece.” He concluded. “I’m prepared to listen to what you have to say. Azium, would you like to add something?”
Azium, the military commander, who had sat the entire time with his eyes closed, now lifted his head, opened his eyes slowly, and looked around. “The war will probably break out in the spring,” he said, his voice low and melodic. “Yet we must be aware that it may happen at a different date.”
A heavy silence fell on the hall. Those present had a hard time absorbing what they’d just heard. All at once, the silence was broken and an uproar ensued, with people talking over each other agitatedly and bluntly.
The king and his high-ranking ministers, who had already heard the news, waited, letting the people come to terms with the news.
Kalshin, the Minister of Agriculture, got up. He was a thickset man, his voice loud and deep. “What is this you’re telling us, Balanter? We’re doomed! What can we do against a trained, skilled army? What can we do?”
“Our army is scattered, almost nonexistent, apart from the castle guard and the assisting troops to the police,” said the Secretary of Finance, a friend of Kalshin’s. “And how do we go to war?”
People started voicing their opinions, interrupting each other.
“Perhaps the news is false? The White king signed a peace treaty.”
“The White king is dead. So is his Red queen.”
“Their two stupid daughters won’t declare war on us.”
“They did,” the king said. “And they mean it.”
“Your Majesty, we should check before we decide on irrational steps.”
“Minister,” Kalshin said. “You’d better shut up before you say irrational things.”
“You shut up!”
Balanter raised a hand to silence them.
“Makaf Shakul, what’s the situation with our troops?” he asked.
“I have to check the lists,” the high-ranking general said. “I think no more than several thousand. Most of them are scattered, sent home because they weren’t doing anything.”
“Eiviar, Minister of Finance, what did you want to say?” the king asked.
“For war, you need money,” Eiviar said. “A lot of money.”
“And what’s our situation?”
“The treasury is empty. The ball and the end-of-summer competitions ate up many resources.”
Kalon, who sat in the first row, stood up. His gown was of gleaming silk, and blue feathers decorated his fine hat. His face was ruddy, his speech wheezing and laborious.
“The ball,” he said. “I saw… We can… What I’m saying is…”
“You’re saying we should return to the ball,” Kalshin said. “Very good, Kalon.”
“Of course,” someone shouted from the benches. “You might miss the dancing competition.”
“Or the drinking competition.”
“And then someone else will win first place.”
“Bah… Not that he had a chance,” said Aboi, who sat behind him. “Not with his wife, that…”
“Shut your mouth!” Kalon turned around and thumped Aboi on the head. “You too, Kalshin.”
“Have you finished, Kalon?” Balanter asked.
“I say,” Kalon said, breathing heavily, his facing getting even redder. “Th-that the b-b-ball…”
“The ball again?” This time Aboi slapped Kalon’s thick neck with the back of his hand.
“We’ll discuss the ball later, perhaps,” Balanter said, trying to muster his patience. “You may sit, Kalon.”
“Ofan, would you like to say something?” the king asked. “I see you’ve raised your hand.”
“Your Majesty, allow me to say that money isn’t the only thing we need for a war. We also need spirit.”
“Spirit?”
“Perhaps some wine as well?” Eiviar asked and giggled.
“I mean fighting spirit. That’s what we need. People won’t fight if they don’t have the passion to win.”
“I’m writing,” Balanter said. “Money, fighting spirit. Any more suggestions?”
“We’ll need weapons,” General Shipur said.
“Yes, about weapons,” the king said. “Balanter, what about the sword of that brute, the forest man?”
“He promised to bring it by tomorrow. If it’s as good as he says it is, we can start fencing practice shortly,” Balanter said.
“You think he’ll keep his promise?”
“I sent people to spy on him. He arrived at the valley of the blacksmiths, and was seen swinging his sledgehammer diligently.”
“We’ll need archers,” Aboi said. “You can’t conduct a battle without archers.”
“Since when do you conduct battles?” asked General Afrur.
“We need archers.” Aboi insisted.
“Where will we bring archers from? And bows and arrows?” Afrur said. “And who’ll train those archers? Arrows have to hit their target occasionally.”
Kalon stood again. “The… C-competitions. The end-of-summer competitions…” he said.
“Shut that man up!” Kalshin yelled.
“Do you understand we’re talking about war?” Eiviar smacked Kalon’s hat to the ground. He gripped his ruffled neck. “Why are you blathering about summer competitions now?”
Kalon shook him off. “I… I…” His red face twisted. His chest rose as he inhaled heavily. “I’m talk… talking about shooting.”
“Great!” Aboi said. “Let’s talk about shooting. Yes, let’s just chat, shall we? Maybe about pies?”
“Quiet!” Balanter raised his hands again. Things were starting to spiral out of control. He felt his spirits sag from moment to moment. “Kalon!” he said loudly. “If you have something to say about the matter at hand, say it now. If not, sit quietly. Parties and competitions are not why I called you here.”
“P-p-please, Minister,” Kalon said, his face almost purple in his effort to clarify his words. “The marksmen from the summer competitions, we can recruit them. We can build a squadron of archers. And the best archers will train the younger ones. That’s what… What I wanted to say.”
Balanter looked at Azium questionably.
“It’s a start,” said the military commander.
Kalon remained standing. “And the ball as well,” he said, encouraged.
“Again, with the ball?” Balanter asked.
“Perhaps to recruit dancers,” Kalshin yelled, and everyone burst into laughter. Balanter remained serious.
“Speak, Kalon. I’m listening,” he said.
“A ball is money,” Kalon said. “We can collect money from those attending the ball, and from the women, jewelry. The prizes, for example, are expensive. We can exchange them with what’s necessary for the war.” Kalon fell silent and sat down, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“You’ve spoken wisely,” Balanter said. “Indeed, we can raise money from the reduced expenses of the ball, and from donations. And regarding the archers, what do you think, Eiviar? Can you organize the donations and the marksmen?”
Eiviar nodded. “Excellent idea. I’ll take care of both.”
“Kalshin and all the rest who’ve teased and mocked him, apologize to Kalon. His suggestion was the most useful I’ve heard today, apart from the suggestion regarding the archers. Any more suggestions?”
“About your spirit, Eiviar,” Queen Cyan said, sinking the needle into the blue garment she was holding. “I think we can do something.”
King Dark Blue turned to her impatiently. “Cyan, my dear. We’re talking about fighting spirit. About war.”
“Of course, champ,” Cyan said calmly. “I’m talking about the same spirit. In fact, I thought about it last night, after we read the letter. As you know, young men love garments that flatter their figures.”
The king turned scarlet now. Making an enormous effort to contain his irritation, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Can we discuss this interesting matter later?”
“Later will be too late,” Cyan said loudly, ignoring his rebuking tone. “We have to act tonight—that is, the minute I finish sewing the hem and setting the silver buttons.”
She stood up and shook out the garment she was holding, pressed it against her bosom, and smiled victoriously. “This is the uniform I think we should offer the men who volunteer to fight. Wait until you see the shoulder straps. Appropriate attire can raise our soldiers’ moral.”
The garment was indeed impressive. It looked like a light jacket, decorated with pockets, its cut both simple and elegant.
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