“Our people do not go hungry,” he said, turning to the Saale Emperor, “But if they did we would worry less with more bread.”
“Indeed, Saale Donroi.” Haddishal Rumenha stroked his beard. “The difficulty in this is the odds of success. Many Saales can easily grow one plant, but to make thousands of them bear fruit at once is difficult.” He waved for the thin man to come forward once again. “A demonstration is in order. Lady Gesa shall oversee it tonight if both of you will please return.”
“Thank you, Excellency.” The two men rose and left the building. Edmath used an ink pen and wrote down their names on a ledger a servant handed to him. The nights here were often crowded.
As the sunlight began to fade Haddishal Rumenha rose from his throne and called a halt to the line outside. His wife, the Saale Hierophant and he were to dine in an hour on the Ordinon. He beckoned Edmath to approach him.
“Will you please fetch my daughter from Emperor Benisar’s Court in the Great Hearth? I have need of her.”
Edmath bowed his head as he approached. “Of course, Excellency, I will go.” For the first time, Edmath felt nervous at the idea of encountering the Hearth Emperor. Zemoy knew about him and Chelka, at least a little bit, but without her around he wondered if her father would be as accepting.
Rumenha handed Edmath a messenger ring that bore his family crest. The ring made the errand official. Edmath went on his way.
As Edmath moved through the colonnades and parade grounds between the Saale Palace and the Great Hearth, he tried to put the unwelcome thoughts out of his mind. He and Zemoy had been on friendly terms, even without Chelka. Now at least, Brosk was there to help him if there was difficulty. Even so, Zemoy might not approve of his and Chelka’s relationship if he looked into it. Edmath was not terribly certain how much Chelka’s father knew about the two of them. Zemoy could disapprove, and he was a powerful man, once a famed warrior. Edmath climbed the short ramp to the gate of the chimney-ringed dome that was the Hearth Emperor’s home with as confident a stride as he could manage. The wind tugged at his black sash in the waning sunlight.
The guards let him through the door when he showed them the ring Emperor Rumenha had given him. He crossed the cool stones of the entrance hall and followed the corridor to his right toward the Hearth Emperor’s throne room. He was looking for a fellow Saale, he reminded himself. He knew of Yezani Rumenha as a young but accomplished scholar of the life arts and of spell control. Perhaps her father had tampered with her before birth the same way his own parents may have tampered with him. Though he expected her to resemble her father to some extent, he realized with some consternation he was not sure what she looked like.
Edmath took a deep breath. Between his nerves over talking with Zemoy and his lack of knowledge about Yezani, he was right to be worried. Concerns must not stop me, he thought.
He reached the throne room doors and then peered inside. He saw the huge, one-eyed, Zemoy Benisar sitting on the throne, flanked on his left by a young woman in a green, and by the powerfully built Brosk Naopaor on his right. Advancing into the hall, Edmath knelt before the throne. He had not been sure as how to approach the Hearth Emperor, but at least this way he would not be disrespectful.
Zemoy leaned forward.
“Edmath Donroi. Welcome. How are you, boy?”
“I am well, Excellency. I have come at the command of Saale Emperor Rumenha, to retrieve his daughter for a meeting with him.”
“Very well,” Zemoy said. “I was right to assume you would be busy.” He turned to the woman in green. She had black hair, much like her father’s, and was nearly as tall. “Lady Rumenha, go and do as your father wishes. Edmath Donroi, remain for a moment.”
“Thank you, your Excellency.” Yezani bowed. Then she turned and walked past Edmath toward the doorway. Edmath looked up at Zemoy, rising slightly from his low bow. The Hearth Emperor waved a hand at Brosk and he too left the hall, disappearing through a side-passage near the throne. Edmath hoped the Emperor didn’t see him gulp.
When they were alone, Zemoy rose from his throne, swirling the purple cloak that identified him even here as the Squid King. He walked to the center of the deserted hall and stood, towering over Edmath.
“It’s good to see you, Ed. My daughter sent this to me. Said it was for you.” Zemoy pulled a letter envelope from within his sea-green robe and dropped it onto the floor in front of Edmath. “I didn’t open it. I trust you enough for that, but I was surprised you two were still in correspondence.”
Edmath looked at the letter, sealed with the Squid Tribe’s blue wax.
“Of course Excellency, I mean no disrespect, nor dishonor.”
Zemoy blinked his one eye remaining, cyclopean, inscrutable.
“I’m sure you don’t, but be careful. This place has a way of hurting people. Still, I am glad to see you here, in this room. Don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”
Edmath felt the lesser part of his fear begin to melt away like ice on the eaves of a Hesiatic Temple at the end of winter. Zemoy still liked him well enough. He must not yet know. Edmath’s hands firmed and he picked up the letter.
“Thank you, Excellency.”
Zemoy waved off the words with a hand pock-marked by scars.
“Go, do your duty for the Saale Emperor. Enjoy the city.”
“Thank you, of course.”
Edmath rose and backed out of the room. His hands trembled with the letter in them. Chelka had written to him which could just as easily mean she was breaking off their relationship as it might say she wanted to see him.
Walking through the twilight gardens, Edmath glimpsed a figure standing inside the gate, slim and tall and foreboding in a deep red cloak with a mane of long black hair dotted with glimmering beads. The man was the Dawkun he had seen at the head of the force escorting the ambassador. Edmath adjusted his glasses. The figure did not move but silently stared at Edmath.
“Greetings.” Edmath brushed past a bush to approach the tall man with beaded hair. “May I ask your name, sir?”
The wind tugged at the man’s hair and he guided the strands away from his face with one hand.
“I am Akalok Roshi, chosen by my nation to protect Ambassador Nolondran. I see by your sash you are a Zelian, but not a royal.”
“I am a Saale of the Imperial Court. My name is Edmath Donroi.” Edmath looked up at the man’s face.
Akalok Roshi looked down at him from among the many-hued beads and black strands of his hair.
“Donroi. I know.”
“You know?
“It is a worm tribe name. Your father’s name.
“So I am told. I am not of that tribe, however.”
“I understand. You must be a man who can speak to all animals. Are you not?”
Edmath’s eye narrowed.
“How do you know these things?”
Akalok’s green eyes flashed. The towering man lunged toward Edmath in an instant. He hurled Edmath back with a strong, outstretched arm.
Stumbling, Edmath fell over a bush and landed on his back. Breath shuddered in his chest. The impact point of Akalok’s blow to his sternum began to ache. The glimmer of moonlight above him flickered for an instant as Akalok strode past to stand by his head.
“What are you doing?” Edmath rolled away from the bush and sprang to his feet. “Roshi, you do not know what you do.”
Akalok advanced on him, folded hands crackling with half-concealed white light. The light reminded Edmath that Akalok was a Dawkun, a physical mage with power over raw energy. Edmath threw himself to the side. He wasn’t fast enough. One of Akalok’s fists slammed into Edmath’s chest.
The blow threw his feet off the ground. He tumbled backward and onto the grass, dazed. He found his feet, heart pounding.
“I have no fight with you, Roshi.”
“But you do, Saale Donroi. My people and yours are too different to live in peace.”
Akalok stalked toward him. Edmath backed up slowly. He remembered
his survival arts classes through a haze of pain. He had been terrible at almost every technique, despite their importance to battlefield Saales. He never wanted to be a warrior Saale. Now was not the time to worry about that. Throwing himself to the left, he stumbled on a stone.
Pain shot through his toe, but in that motion, he narrowly avoided another fist from the Roshi. That blow provided the opening he needed. Pulling a striker from the pouch at his belt, he opened a tear in the air between himself and Akalok.
“Give this up.” Edmath panted as he spoke. “You could be hurt.” Magic flowed into him from the tear.
Surging forward, Akalok seized Edmath’s sash, dragging him off his feet. His other hand snaked out, catching Edmath’s right arm in a deathlike grip. Edmath’s striker fell from his grip even as his hand made a symbol with his fingers. Magic lit his view as power flowed into him. The crossed fingers of his left hand prodded into the Roshi’s ribs.
A wild burst of roots flushed from the tips of those fingers, blasting Akalok backward, down the garden path. Edmath looked down at his aching stomach, then up at the bleeding Roshi standing ten feet away at the end of a long tree’s limb that extended from his hand. The limb began to turn black as Edmath stopped feeding in magic, and the life force fled from it.
Akalok grunted. He stepped away from the branch. Blood dripped from the gash in his cloak, but Edmath could not tell if the man had been seriously hurt or only scratched.
“You have injured me.” Akalok touched the bloody tip of the branch with one hand. “No doubt your corrupt Saale sorcery gives you much lethal power, but I shall defeat you.”
Edmath felt the letter in his pocket where he’d kept it after leaving Zemoy’s throne room.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.” His voice shook. “You are a servant of the Ambassador. Why did you attack me?”
“Because I am your enemy, Donroi. My family swore to destroy yours long ago. I am a Dawkun of Roshi. You are a perverse Zelian Saale.” He sprang toward a tree off to Edmath’s right. He moved so light on his feet so as not to stir the leaves on the ground.
Akalok Roshi made a symbol with both his hands. A bolt of white light shot up the tree. Edmath could not see what he had done but quickly realized it when the tree groaned as if with pain. A flame shot through the trunk, leaving a hole in it. The red fire narrowly missed Edmath’s outstretched arm.
His striker was gone, but he could still fight, so long as this tear remained open. Akalok’s line of fire curved in the air to come back at Edmath. Edmath whirled and grew a tree’s base in his hands to block its path. The fire smoldered through it, but he ducked before it shot past. The flame burnt out behind his back. Edmath whirled, smashing the tree stump into Akalok’s on-coming fist. Splinters of charred wood flew into the air. Edmath slipped under the blow and made another symbol with his fingers.
Grabbing Akalok’s leg with his other hand, Edmath released the life art he’d just prepared. Roots curled around the Roshi’s leg and then drove into the ground behind his heel. The roots pinned him in place.
Edmath rolled on the ground, hands over his head, to escape the rain of blood and splinters from the stump and Akalok’s fist. He got clear and climbed to his feet. Straining against his bonds, Akalok tried to turn and face him. Gasping for air, Edmath made another symbol, this time with both hands. A tree sprouted and grew into a lance of wood. He stared at the Roshi. Akalok struggled to free himself.
“You are beaten. Of course, I will not kill you.”
“Obviously, Saale you do not understand. You are out of luck even if I surrender.”
Edmath remembered that the Roshi was part of the ambassador’s delegation. Assaulting him was a crime, probably regardless of what he did first. His arms fell to his sides. Edmath dropped the half-formed vines onto the grass. He heard running footsteps and waited as guards approached, swords drawn and lamps bobbing as they moved.
“Who goes there?” someone called from down the path.
“Saale Edmath Donroi. This man is a Roshi bodyguard to the ambassador. He assaulted me.”
The guards approached Edmath and Akalok. “What is the meaning of this?” The two of them must both look battered. Edmath’s sash was pulled askew and his clothes were dirty from being thrown and punched and rolling on the ground. Akalok bled from multiple cuts, including one in the chest that the lights the guards carried showed as none too deep. Edmath massaged his pounding forehead.
“I will explain. I was assaulted by this man the moment he heard my name. I was only just able to stop him before he could take my life.” Edmath panted his words out, breath only just returning to his lungs.
“Come with me,” the leader of the guards said, before motioning for the other two guards with him to look after Akalok. “Edmath Donroi, you are a member of the Saale Emperor’s court, are you not?”
“I have that honor, sir.” Edmath followed the guard down the path. “I was just here on an errand to visit the Hearth Emperor.”
“I see. You had better get back. The Roshi will not be happy, but the emperors even less so. I’ll sound the alarm so the War Empress’ soldiers will come along to collect this man shortly. We will let you know if we need any other information from you.”
“Thank you, soldier. I needed the help.” The words were true as anything. Edmath doubted he would have been able to hold Akalok for long.
Edmath turned and walked down the path, fishing another striker out of his pouch, just in case. The palace had to be safer to traverse than the gardens as more guard would be inside than outside. As he walked back to the Saale Palace, he kept his eyes up. He did not encounter anyone else on the way and made the way up the steps to his room in one of the smaller domed halls overlooking the courtyard.
When the door was safely closed behind him, he carefully tugged the letter from his pocket. The seal had been broken by his rolls during the fight and lay in pale blue fragments that cast small shadows on his desk in the lamplight. Unfolding the letter itself, he brushed the pieces of the seal aside. His eyes ran over the words, liking what he saw. Chelka was working on part of a new creature for the War Empress. Part of it was squid, which made her an asset to the team, before even considering her exceptional Saale abilities. He read the last few lines out loud to himself as he leaned back in his chair.
“I hope you and Brosk are well in Diar. I hope to arrive there by the end of the summer. I can scarcely wait so long to see you again, Ed. Love, Chelka.” Edmath grinned, despite the pain of Akalok’s blows.
He read the letter again and then left it on the desk before lying down on the bed. That Roshi had attacked him with just his name and the disturbing way he had known about Edmath’s ability to speak to animals and plants made him nervous. Unlacing his sandals, Edmath lay back down and closed his eyes. The Roshi man’s cold stare came to him through the darkness and he opened his eyes again, before finally shutting them and falling asleep.
Rain began to fall the next morning and continued through the following week. The sky remained dark the whole while, and the city streets were wet. In some places, puddles went so deep that messenger serpents swam rather than slithered. For all the gloominess of the weather it did not affect Edmath as much as the news he heard later in the week. The guard who had found him and Akalok fighting, told Edmath the Roshi bodyguard had been released despite the attack.
“His people wouldn’t like it if we were harsh on him. We don’t need another war.”
While Edmath agreed with the guard, it made him nervous knowing his new enemy could be around any corner. Most of the court seemed to be oblivious to what had happened. Edmath saw no place to complain, especially as such a new court Saale. Haddishal Rumenha gave him his first laboratory on the last day of the week, complete with an adjoining courtyard garden far larger than Edmath had expected.
“Feel free to grow what you need to in here, and don’t forget to ask for plants from the other divisions if you can’t find what you need in this palace.”
During a week of study on an immature Orpus tree the Saale Emperor had given him, Edmath gained a far better idea of how trees like the young one and Orpus Strodusial had been made in the first place. The permanent melding of plants was not easy for most Saales and the emperor’s work could not be replicated by most novices because it required such a long draw just to begin. Not every Saale could hold that much magic. Focusing all that raw power into the melding of two seeds, one of a white pine and the other of a yielding oak, would not even be the most difficult aspect to perform.
Even before the seeds were fully melded another long draw was required to create the pattern for the ghosted roots that made the tree capable of movement. Edmath felt renewed envy at the Saale Emperor’s powers. Rumenha had been able to complete one of these plants when he was only fifteen or sixteen. The skill, the power reinforced his belief that Rumenha’s position was well deserved, altered by his mother or not.
Edmath practiced for a few more days at drawing magic from tears around the courtyard until he was satisfied that he could judge the currents well enough to get all the power he needed for patterning the ghost roots. Everything else would be fairly simple when that was accomplished. The day he planned to do the task he went down to his lab, located a few halls away from his chambers. He brought the two seeds he needed out into the courtyard.
He drew a striker, then tore three gashes to form a triangle around the spot where he planned to combine the seeds. He pocketed the striker and, holding the seeds in one hand, he made the merging sign with his other hand. Bringing the two of them together, he drew in all the magic he needed for the spell in a single rush of green and white light. He closed his eyes, picturing the Orpus Seed he would make.
Spells of the Curtain Volume One Page 9