The Diplomat (26 page)

“Fortunately, the voyage went as predicted. How are you, Artunos?”

“Intact. The wise men ask for proof of miracles, and here I am.”

Rema inspected her old friend and found him much as she’d left him. He was tall and dark-skinned, and his black hair was held in a high ponytail that fell in thin strands to his waist. His golden tabard bared his muscular arms, and a flanged mace with a leather grip hung from his belt. It was his preferred weapon, or so he claimed; Rema had never seen him use it. It matched his blunt temperament, however. He also had an unfortunate tendency to sullenness, not unlike someone else that she knew.

“Elise, this is Artunos, captain of the guard and one of my closest friends. He served Togun too, before the coup.”

Artunos raised a thick eyebrow. “You’ve been telling her all about us, have you? Princess, I extend my warmest welcome to the city of Arann.”

“Don’t call me princess,” said Elise. “My name is Elise. May I ask why Ormun let you live? Because I certainly wouldn’t have.” She gave an indignant sniff. “Odd-looking indeed!”

“Please, I already apologized! To answer your question, it was by Rema’s intervention. I owe her my life, and I’m not the only person who can make that claim.” Artunos’s voice grew solemn. “Elise, I have been commanded to take you back to the palace in this wagon. Do you have any objections?”

“Yes. Why do I have to travel in the wagon? I’d like to walk the streets and see this city for myself. I’ve been on the sea for three weeks, and once I’ve married this infernal beast, I’ve been assured that I’ll never leave the palace for the rest of my life. To hell with your wagon.”

“Let her walk,” said Rema, laughing at Artunos’s stunned expression. “Take the wagon yourself, if you like. It’ll spare us the sight of your grim face.”

“Her sharp tongue recalls your own.” Artunos grinned. “We’ve all missed you, but none so much as your little songbird. She’s been pining so badly that I was beginning to worry she’d never sing again.”

Elise gave Rema a puzzled look. Time to move the conversation along. “Shall we start moving?” said Rema. “I’d like to be back in the palace before the sun sets.”

“Very well. The Emperor is awaiting you with great anticipation. Guardsman, take the lady’s luggage.” Artunos turned with a flourish of his cape and led them to the wagon. “We won’t require you after all,” he said to the driver, pressing a coin into his hand.

He had brought six guardsmen in total, five of them holding spears and one now carrying Elise’s trunk. Artunos arranged them in two files, giving orders quietly and without ceremony, as his was habit. His organization concluded, the group began their journey to the palace—and to the man whose shadow loomed over Rema, permitting her no refuge even as she traveled every corner of the world.

Chapter Eighteen

The paved streets of Arann were nothing like the cobbled roads of the Danoshan capital. Narrow and winding, they followed hills that descended so steeply horses trembled to follow them. Where the stone houses parted, their elevation allowed a dizzying view of the valley and the city tangled in its depths.

The group pushed through countless marketplaces—some that crowded the streets, others that occupied plazas—and passed between stalls that seemed to grow on buildings like clinging vines. As they navigated these bazaars, merchants assailed them, tugging on sleeves and proffering vivid fruits, while an immense noise swirled: pots clattering, fat sizzling in griddles, dogs baying and monkeys chirping, and the cries and countercries of vendors each selling identical wares and yet all expecting the undivided loyalty of passersby.

Elise stared at the faces around her, astonishment driving the pout from her face. All the people of the Empire and many of those from the wider world were represented in Arann, and their many-languaged conversations formed a dense and unintelligible hum. There were jet-skinned Lastar, tall Tahdeeni with olive skin and wide eyes, tanned Ulati wrapped in rough cloth, bare-chested Molonese with bundles of silk in their arms, and sallow Goronba leading broad-backed donkeys. There were foreigners, too: pale-skinned Lyornans and Kalanese in opulent garments, unhappy red-haired Harothen sweating behind their armor, Narandane towering above the crowds, Erellan women in conical hats and even a Danoshan merchant pulling a cart laden with apples.

Elise seemed particularly taken with the golden-skinned, sharp-featured Ajulese. She stopped to watch a company pass by, a lively mingling of men and women. “They look like you. But you’re a touch fairer, and all of them have black hair.”

“My father was Ajulese,” said Rema. “My mother was a Nastine, hence my red hair and slightly lighter skin.”

The group descended a curved street that ran between two tall rows of houses. Clotheslines spanned the buildings, casting thin shadows across the street. Excited children ran about their group chasing a cat, and a woman emerged onto a step and beat dust from a tapestry. “I met a princess from Nastil once,” said Elise. “She didn’t have red hair.”

“Nastine don’t all have red hair. It’s not like every Danoshan has silver eyes.”

“I know that. If you insist on treating me like a child, I’ll act like one and bite your foot.”

Artunos frowned. “You shouldn’t speak to Rema in that way.”

Rema laughed. “Artunos, it’s nothing. You’ll have to excuse Elise if she says inappropriate things. She merely announces what she’s thinking.”

“She’d better break that habit before she meets the Emperor.” Artunos spoke without a trace of humor. Elise sneered at him before turning to stare at a zebra that stood patiently in a stockyard among horses and camels.

Their path took them through a large public garden filled with aromatic trees. A river coursed through its center, and the road passed over it by way of a small cobbled bridge. Elise stopped to gape at the huge, many-colored birds that stretched their plumage from crooked branches and sang in tremulous warbles.

Rema took Elise’s arm and pointed to the horizon. “Do you see that golden shine up there on the hill, so bright it hurts to look at? That’s the palace.”

“Does it really have walls of gold?”

“It’s gilded. Not solid gold. But it’s an impressive waste of wealth all the same.”

They passed through a grove and into the caressing shade of the leaves. “Is it far to your mansion?” said Elise.

“Quite far. It’s in the southeast of the city, low against the coast and overlooking the sea. The city there isn’t so dense, and olive and palm trees grow in the streets.”

“It’s all so beautiful.” Elise inhaled the scented air, and her eyelashes fluttered. “Can’t we just stop here for a while longer?”

“I’m afraid not. There are gardens inside the palace, though, much larger than this. Take heart.”

Judging from the impatient look in Artunos’s eyes, he was waiting for a chance to speak with her. As Elise stumbled along, gawking at the birds and the trees, Rema slowed her pace so that he could fall into step alongside. When Elise was some distance away, he cleared his throat. “You’ve befriended this one, haven’t you?”

Curse his shrewdness. “It’d be impossible for me not to like her. You’ve seen how lively she is.”

“Things aren’t going well for us lately. You’ve been gone almost two months, and Haran has been quick to take advantage of it. You need to spend time rebuilding our position.”

“You’re afraid I’m going to be reckless.”

“You have that old look in your eye.” Artunos swiped a fly from his cheek. “I won’t say that I haven’t missed it, but there is a time for conviction and a time for caution.”

They caught up to Elise, who had stopped to marvel at a beetle crawling across a tree. Its gleaming blue back wobbled as it slid its belly across the bark. “Look at it,” said Elise. “I never thought I’d see a scarab. It’s as big as my hand.”

“Careful,” said Rema. “They spit terrible venom.” Elise pulled back in fright and tripped on her feet. Rema caught her before she could fall, and they both giggled.

“You lied to me,” said Elise, still tangled in Rema’s arms. “I’ll have to think of a way to punish you.”

Stricken by embarrassment, Rema avoided looking at Artunos. “We should hurry along. The later it gets, the more likely it’ll be that Ormun is ill-tempered.”

“It sounds to me as if he’s always ill-tempered.” Elise adjusted Rema’s scattered hair, tapped her on the nose and wandered further into the garden, still captivated by the scenery. The guards marched to keep up with her, ever expressionless.

“Very close friends,” said Artunos tonelessly.

“I’m not at my best. I’m distracted. She has an effect on me.”

“I can tell. Be sure that Ormun can’t.”

Before long they were back in the city streets, this time among extravagant marble houses and wide streets paved with smooth, neatly interlocked flagstones. After perhaps twenty minutes of strolling, they arrived at the great thoroughfare to the palace. Squat mansions lined the path, their gardens redolent with jasmine. The palace loomed, and they slowed as they entered its great shadow. Its colossal gem-studded doors were ajar. Six guardsmen stood outside on duty, their taciturn faces relaxed. Noticing Artunos, they pulled themselves upright and saluted.

“At ease,” Artunos said. “You can return to your daily duties.” The guards clasped their spears to their chests, banged the shafts against their golden breastplates and filed into the palace. The guard with the trunk waited, his eyes uncertain. “I’ll take that from here.” The guard offered up his cargo and hurried to join his comrades.

Rema and Elise followed Artunos through the doors and into the marble outer court. It had been designed to awe visitors, and even Rema still sometimes paused to admire it. Fountains on the walls surged into broad basins below, and the center of the court was dominated by an immense pool of swirling water. A painted scene of nature decorated the domed ceiling, depicting leaves and twining vines studded with blossoms, and sunlight streamed through the perfectly circular windows cut around the dome’s circumference. Dignitaries, traders and entertainers wandered among the columns and fountains, rested upon velvet-cushioned benches, stood on high balconies and chatted beneath the shadows of white-limbed trees.

“You can marvel at it later,” said Rema to Elise, who had walked over to one of the trees and was examining its pale leaves, her eyes quick with curiosity. “We don’t want Ormun to learn we’ve been dallying.”

“Trees growing indoors! We had trouble enough to get them to grow outside.” Elise ran her fingers along the bark. “And to think this will be my home, and I only have to share it with nineteen other women.”

A sudden affection took hold of Rema. Surely Elise’s resolute demeanor masked a deep anxiety. “Elsie, I’ll keep my promise.”

Elise smiled. “You’d better.”

“Let’s go.” Rema guided Elise across the court to the archway where Artunos waited. They followed him through winding corridors decorated with stylized murals of waves, forests and predatory animals. The air was rich with incense, and interior windows opened into sunny inner gardens, where trees splayed crooked branches, and high-stemmed flowers raised their blossoms toward the sky.

“Rema!” There was no mistaking that beautiful voice, and it inspired an equal measure of delight and dread. Jalaya bounded down the hallway, her every step made musical by the jingling of her jewelry. Her exquisite lips parted with joy as she wrapped her arms around Rema’s shoulders.

“Careful,” said Rema, unable to hold back a laugh as Jalaya kissed her nose. “You’ll break my neck.”

“You’ve been gone so long, I forgot that you’re a frail old woman.” Jalaya caressed Rema’s face with both hands before kissing her on the mouth, her tongue sliding between Rema’s lips. Her small body pushed close, and Rema struggled not to grip those hips and stroke those buttocks she’d touched without guilt so many times before.

Jalaya lowered her lashes in exaggerated coyness. “I’ve been saving that kiss for you. Was it worth the wait?”

“Jalaya, I don’t…” Gods, she’d missed Jalaya, but this wasn’t the time. “I have to see Ormun. We can talk later.”

“Talk?” Jalaya’s laughter was as light and musical as her voice. “What’s this about talking? You have two months of lonely nights to make up for!”

Elise was staring as if stunned. “This is Elise,” said Rema, apprehension weighing heavy in her stomach. “Ormun’s latest victim. Elise, this is Jalaya, my best friend.”

Jalaya slipped free from the embrace and approached Elise. “Oh, you poor thing.” She tentatively reached for Elise’s hand. “No wonder you look so upset.”

It was no surprise that Elise showed such consternation. Jalaya was short and slender, and her features were sublime—high cheeks, wide eyes, a rounded nose and delicate ears laden with heavy golden hoops. Her silken black hair fell, without a single curl or wave, to rest above her bare shoulders. A gossamer wrap covered her small bust, exposing every other inch of her smooth olive torso, while her loose skirt stopped at her thighs and shifted suggestively as she moved. Yet as gorgeous as she was, her greatest beauty lay in her voice. Every sound and note was rich with sweetness, and her laughter was enough to make toes curl.

“I’m not a poor thing,” said Elise, lifting her head. “Don’t be so condescending. Who are you, anyway?”

Gods, had two women ever been more different? Elise was plump, pale and tall, whereas Jalaya was slight, dark and a full head shorter; Elise’s eyes were as frightening as they were entrancing, whereas Jalaya’s honey-brown eyes were lustrous with gentle affection. Jalaya had none of Elise’s seductive melancholy, and Elise had none of Jalaya’s gentle lightness.

Jalaya smiled uncertainly. “I’m Jalaya. I entertain the court with my love songs. Perhaps I can sing for you sometime?”

“I doubt it. Not if your singing is as irritating as you are.”

Jalaya turned to Rema, her eyes more confused than hurt. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Elsie, please,” said Rema. “Be nice to her.”

Artunos coughed loudly. Rema had forgotten he was there, and embarrassment wracked her again. “We should really keep moving,” he said. “There’ll be time later for reunions and…explanations.”