Season of the Dragon, page 21
Anu adjusted his hoop nose ring, the chain connecting it to his ear lightly clinking. His voice lost its ominous and reprimanding tone. “The point is, there are five courses of food tonight as there are five Corners.” He leaned closer and whispered, “At least there are five in Qülla.” He winked at her.
As soon as the food servers vacated the room, the musicians rejoined, bringing a half-dozen women dancers. The dancers’ lithe bodies undulated, bare save for the wide gold belts worn low on their hips and rows of bells on their ankles. Their hair was tightly braided and adorned with colorful beads. As they whipped their heads and danced around the room, their hair beads and ankle bells created their own music.
The crowd clapped and laughed as the dancers whirled about the room. As the musicians finished the song, the nearly naked dancers twirled in a frenzy, their long, braided hair whipping as they spun.
During the entire dance, Xa’Vatra ignored the show and her food. She talked to her sisters, seated to her right, as though there were no other people in the hall. Seated to her left and below, her husband Asar stared at the dancers and drank heavily.
When the music stopped, the dancers stood in a circle, back-to-back, their arms swept up. Quen clapped, but no one else did. There was only silence.
Interrupted from her conversation, Xa’Vatra barely took notice of the dancers, but gave a polite clap using her left hand on the back of her right. That was all the raucous crowd needed to pound their cups and cheer.
As soon as the dancers exited, waiters came with another course of food. They followed the same ritual as before, giving it first to Xa’Vatra’s taster, then once approved, serving the hall.
This course was a savory fish dish of whole salmon stuffed with saffron-spiced rice with a delicate creamy sauce on the side. As soon as Quen smelled the fish, her stomach growled. She’d eaten the equivalent of what she’d ordinarily eat for two meals for the first course. Yet, the enticing aroma of spiced fish renewed her hunger.
Anu picked at his fish, taking small bites. He dabbed his mustache with his napkin. “Where are you putting this food, Doj’Anira?”
Quen shrugged. “Perhaps I am growing still.” She finished the fish as a half-dozen jugglers and acrobats entertained the hall.
The third course consisted of roasted fowl with spiced apples. It surprised Quen that the Exalted allowed mundane fowl at such a decadent banquet. In the Sulmére, it isn’t a feast until we’ve eaten a whole roasted drey.
She asked Anu about it, and he told her the Exalted liked to eat things that fly. It made her think about how Pelagia kept talking about flying and the gib-rigs.
“Is the entire city of Qülla obsessed with flying?”
Anu pointed to the dais with his cup. “Not so much enamored with flying itself as with the things that fly.”
I doubt Xa’Vatra would be so smitten if she was staring down Vahgrin’s gaping maw.
After everyone enjoyed the fowl course, the pink-sashed man announced the next entertainment. Quen expected mummers like they had at feasts in Solia. Instead, a portly, middle-aged man carrying a large wine bottle entered. Two younger men followed the wine merchant. One of the young men had black hair falling to nearly his mid-back. And in his ear, a single blue feather earring.
Quen shot to her feet. Her throat tight with emotion, she called, “Rhoji.” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, but joy soared within.
“Sit, Doj’Anira,” Anu hissed. “It is rude beyond measure to stand before Xa’Vatra has stood.”
She allowed Anu to pull her to her seat. It was probably a good thing her voice had come out thin and not carried. First Aldewin, now Rhoji. They didn’t forsake me. Does this mean our entire Jagaru pod is here? She hoped Anu didn’t notice how flushed from excitement she was. She cautiously wiped sweaty palms on her silk dress, not caring it would create unsightly puckers in the fabric.
Rhoji was with a Bardivian wine merchant. He didn’t look in her direction as he went about his business. As the merchant spoke with Xa’Vatra and Asar, Rhoji worked the Kovan women’s side of the dais with his flashy smile, polite conversation, and filling their cups.
Quen couldn’t guess how they got Rhoji into the palace with the wine merchant. It took great restraint not to run to him. He risked himself to help me. Even if they ultimately failed, it gladdened her heart that her brother had come for her.
Rhoji was in his element. Morana favored him with a smile and made sure their hands touched as he poured her more wine. Rhoji gave Morana a sultry look beneath long, thick lashes. Born to live a courtly life, Rhoji played his part well. Is he playing the game well? Or is he here to woo the court, not help me escape?
Once at the end of the table, Rhoji gave Quen an inconspicuous nod. She trembled with relief. He’s my First Kin. Of course he’s here to help me. His acknowledgment gave her relief and gladdened her heart.
The fourth course of cheeses, fruits, nut spreads, and thin baked bread arrived. A tight knot of anticipation seized Quen’s gut. What have Rhoji and Aldewin planned? She picked at the food placed before her, the excitement of what was to come overshadowing her hunger.
Copious wine drinking fortified Anu’s appetite. He ate more with each course.
The hall buzzed with politely whispered conversation, but soon a hush fell as a chorus of birdsong swelled. Small yellow finches circled tables then flew toward the ceiling. Larger birds with long red tails and crowns of black feathers followed. Flying in a similar pattern, they joined the finches in an intricately choreographed flight.
Xa’Vatra ended her conversations, her eyes gleaming with delight as she watched the birds circle over her head.
Two more birds flew in from the right. Their feathers were pure black, their eyes golden, and gold bands adorned their necks. Their wings were nearly five feet across when outstretched, and they whistled to each other as they swooped low by the tables in front, one almost grazing Quen’s head. They circled near the Exalted before soaring to the palace’s glass ceiling.
Xa’Vatra clapped her hands, not politely as she had before, but with the zeal of a fan cheering a favorite team of thukna roping at a Sulmére feast.
After the birds came more flying creatures, but this time small ones. A swarm of purple and gold butterflies swirled in a column of shimmering color in front of Xa’Vatra’s table. Hundreds of delicate wings fluttered, creating a light breeze.
The butterflies spread and flew up, revealing Pelagia.
The crowd gasped, and Xa’Vatra clapped loudly, her face afire with delight. Pelagia bowed deeply, the shark’s tooth dress rattling as she moved.
“Rise, Mistress of the Menagerie.”
Pelagia did as told, then turned to the crowd and blew a kiss to each side of the room. She turned back to Xa’Vatra and made a low chirping sound.
Nivi roared and bounded to Pelagia’s side. The bells in his mane jingled as he ran. As he approached Pelagia, she motioned him up with her hand, and he did as commanded, standing on his hind legs. He towered above Pelagia and roared again. He made a full circle before dropping to all fours.
Nivi roared again before sitting beside Pelagia like a dutiful dog. Xa’Vatra continued to clap, her smile as wide as a child’s.
“Bravo,” she said. “You have outdone yourself, Mistress. And you brought Nivi, a court favorite.” The assembled cheered loudly and whistled appreciation for Nivi. “But I hear you brought me something exceptional.”
Pelagia bowed her head. “I humbly accept your praise, Exalted, but I can hardly take the compliment for myself alone.” She lifted her hands to the sky to indicate the birds and butterflies overhead, bringing on another round of applause. She then pointed to Nivi, and the crowd cheered loudly again for him.
Xa’Vatra raised her hand, and all fell instantly silent. “Keep me in suspense no longer. Where is my new Doj’Anira?”
Quen bristled at her use of ‘my’ regarding her. Before the night was over, she intended to make sure everyone knew she was no one’s property.
Pelagia turned, her eyes immediately finding Quen. “Come forward, Doj’Anira.”
Quen sat stone still. Sweat dripping down her back made the silk dress cling to her.
Anu’Bida nudged her with his elbow and whispered, “Go to her.”
Quen rose on shaky legs. She used the table to steady herself, then came forward. Her ribs ached with a band of anxiety. This is my chance. She stood tall, collecting herself as she walked.
The room was so silent she could have heard a hair drop from her head. She made her way slowly, Xa’Vatra’s golden eyes on her the whole time, appraising her.
Once Quen was at Pelagia’s side, Pelagia said, “I present the first Doj’Anira found in the Sulmére Province. And the first with one blue eye the color of pure Enara waters.” She bowed low, and the crowd gasped.
Pelagia pulled on Quen’s hand, trying to get her to bow. When Quen didn’t take the hint, Pelagia whispered, “Bow to the Exalted, Quen.”
But Quen refused to bow.
Xa’Vatra sat forward in her chair, her eyes glowering at Quen. “Do you refuse your master’s command?”
No longer whispering, Pelagia said, “Bow to the Exalted, Doj’Anira.”
Quen didn’t move.
Xa’Vatra rose, and the pink-sashed man strode toward Quen. “You will bow to the Exalted.”
“I am a free person of the Sulmére, and in the Sea of Sands, we bow to no one.”
The crowd gasped for a second time, then a murmur of disbelief followed by hisses of disdain.
Quen’s heart pounded, but she felt better than she had in weeks. She was a woman of the dunes, lost in a sea of excess and strange customs. Her beloved Pahpi was dead, her home destroyed. A dragon hunted her, and a ruler condemned her. My only crime is being unlike others. She had little left except her life. I’ll lose that too before bowing to someone claiming ownership of me.
She hadn’t stopped to think that she might have ruined the escape plan Aldewin and Rhoji had made. But it was too late to backtrack. She stood firm and unbent.
Xa’Vatra’s eyes were wide and dark with anger. Her voice was low and seething. “Mistress, you have my permission to discipline the Doj’Anira.”
Pain twinged Quen’s ears as if a wasp had stung her. Quen tugged at her right ear, but the sensation leaped from ear to chest. It’s like someone slammed Fano’s forge hammer into my bosom.
Pelagia’s voice was a low growl. “Lower yourself before the Exalted, or soon this pain will be a fond memory of better days.”
Quen gasped for air, sure her chest was empty of life-giving breath. Instead of receding, the pain grew steadily worse as it traveled from chest to navel. Pelagia had filled Quen’s body with Juka’s sky-fire, and the agony permeated her lower gut.
It wasn’t the same as the immolation visited on her by Imbica. It was worse.
I’ll do anything to stop this agony.
She would do anything to make it stop. Quen bowed low, not because she’d been told to, but because the excruciating pain doubled her over.
Xa’Vatra clapped with apparent delight, and the crowd did the same. “Bravo, Mistress. Bravo,” the Exalted said. After forcing both to bow for a moment, she said, “Rise, Mistress. Rise, Doj’Anira.”
Pelagia rose first and ended her torturous spell. Quen slowly rose up, still unsteady from the torture. Because Pelagia had displayed no command of the corners, Quen had assumed the woman had no magical skill. But how else can she command animals and fill my veins with sky-fire?
Quen touched the gold band on her ear. It was warm. She’d been so swept up in the evening’s energy she hadn’t put it together. The gold bands adorning Quen’s ears were the same as the ones on Nivi’s neck and the necks of the birds flying overhead. The mechanism of the bands was still unknown, but they had to be involved in Pelagia’s control of the animals. And now me.
Trying to dislodge the gold cuff, she tugged at her ear again, but it didn’t budge. Somehow, the gold had bonded to her.
“I understand we have one of my Kovathas to thank for this acquisition. Kovatha Imbica. Come forward.”
Imbica quickly but soundlessly strode to the front and tried to stand beside Pelagia, but Nivi snarled and showed his teeth. Xa’Vatra and her sisters laughed, as did her children. Imbica was forced to stand a bit to the right of Pelagia and gave Nivi a wide berth.
“Kovatha Imbica, please tell the Conclave how you found this Doj’Anira. And do not skip a single detail.” Xa’Vatra leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands, her face rapt with attention.
Imbica told the tale accurately, from first encountering Druvna’s Jagaru, to the wagon journey north over the Niri Bridge and the bumpy ride in Besha’s cart. She even told about the run-in with Vahgrin. This part of the story drew gasps but also jeers and laughs from the assembled court. The Conclave tittered at that part as well, though Xa’Vatra didn’t. Her face was a veritable mask throughout the telling, her gold eyes unflinching as she listened.
Imbica left the immolation out of her story. Will Xa’Vatra ask me to verify Imbica’s story? If so, I intend to set the record straight.
“Druvna appears in this tale, huh? I thought I’d sent him to my dungeons to rot. Has our jailer Cinwa become lax?” She sipped wine and gave the air a wave of her hand. “I will deal with old Druvna another day.” She pointed to the scribe hovering behind her. “Note that.”
The scribe hurriedly dragged her quill across a parchment while Xa’Vatra returned her attention to Imbica. “Kovatha Imbica, you had quite a journey. Such bravery with the dragon.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Imbica bowed her head. “I did my duty to the Dynasty.”
“Oh, and modest too.” There was mock enthusiasm in her voice. “Do tell me, Kovatha, did you deliver this Doj’Anira unharmed to the Mistress of the Menagerie?”
Imbica shifted. “Yes, Exalted.” She bowed again.
Xa’Vatra sat forward again, her golden eyes wide and piercing. “You did not use immolation on this property of the Dynasty on at least one occasion.”
Another collective gasp from the assembled.
Imbica stuttered. “I tried to… But the Doj’Anira attempted to—”
Xa’Vatra shot to her feet, towering over them. “Did the Edict say you were permitted to damage my property?”
“No, Exalted One.” Imbica bowed low.
“No. I should say it did not. As Kovatha, you know the penalty for intentional damage to Dynasty property.”
Imbica threw herself to her knees, her hands clasped in front of her. Tears welled in her eyes. “Please, Exalted One. I beg of you. I am Kovatha, a faithful servant to the Dynasty. There is no one more devoted to your service than I.”
Xa’Vatra let out a throaty laugh. “You already proved yourself unfaithful, Imbica. Why would I keep around such a disloyal, Cornerless fool?”
Because she might be the only mage in Indrasi who can defeat Vahgrin.
The Exalted plopped into her chair and steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “What say you, Conclave? Shall I spare this befouled Kovatha? Or send her to the blade?”
Nyx spoke first, her pronouncement a single word. “Blade.”
Morana seconded the notion, and the brothers Djeuthui and Hauké followed suit. Only Xa’Vatra’s husband, Asar, disagreed. After he said, “Spare,” the siblings hissed their disagreement.
“Oh, spare is not the word though for my recommended reprimand,” he said.
He had his wife’s attention now. “Speak then, husband.”
He narrowed his eyes at Imbica then turned his attention to Pelagia. “I hear the Mistress of the Menagerie could use more servants. And given the Mistress’s loyal service to the Dynasty, does she not deserve this boon?”
Xa’Vatra’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Her voice was a soft purr. “Why, husband, you are full of worthy ideas of late.”
He nodded and raised his cup to her. “I am inspired by your astute leadership.” His smile was as phony as his words.
She favored him with a languid look and drank from the cup he offered. Her siblings looked dejected.
“And what say you, Prelate Vidar? Shall I send this disgraced Kovatha to the blade, as most of the Conclave favors, or gift her to the Mistress to do with as she sees fit?”
Vidar’s look was grim. Disinterested in the whole affair, he showed no joy in his vote. “The Kovatha was loyal to the Dynasty until the Doj’Anira’s escape attempt prompted a serious lapse in judgment. Still, the Kovatha has otherwise been a faithful Dynasty servant.”
Nyx chimed in, “It does not matter if her life was in danger. She committed a crime against the Dynasty, Prelate. An offense against Xa’Vatra, our Exalted. If the Exalted excuses every Cornerless fool—”
Vidar waved his hand in the air. “Yes, yes. I know all that. I was merely pointing out that given her past service, and since she is the one who brought this prized possession into Dynasty control—and protecting it from a dragon, no less—”
People spoke behind unfurled hand fans and tittered and outright laughed at Vidar’s mention of a dragon. People think Imbica made that part up. But neither Vidar nor the Exalted showed mirth at the mention of a dragon. What does Xa’Vatra know about Vahgrin?
Unshaken by the derision from the crowd, Vidar continued. “It’s fitting that Kovatha Imbica should continue to oblige the Dynasty by being a servant to the Dynasty’s Menagerie.”
“Vidar, you spill words as though you expect speaking will add years to your life.” Xa’Vatra sat back again and was quiet, perhaps thinking about what to do. She stared intently at Imbica, who still knelt, but pivoted her attention to Quen.
“And you.” She pointed to Quen with a thin finger. “What say you, Doj’Anira?”
The crowd murmured whispers.
Morana said, “This is most unusual, Exalted. To ask the opinion of a chained one.”
Xa’Vatra snapped at Morana, her words clipped. “Do you question me, Morana?”
“No, Exalted One, of course not. It is just—”
Xa’Vatra slammed her tiny fist down on the table. “I am Exalted, not you. Mind your place, or there will be an empty seat on the Conclave.”
