Читать книгу The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1 - Андрей Кочетков - Страница 9

When Uni opened his eyes, the world seemed to be some place above him. He felt like he was buried deep under a pile of sand at the bottom of a monster jug of some kind. He was barely able to poke his head out of the sand, and his ears strained to pick up the alarming sounds coming from somewhere outside the jug.

“I think he’s awake,” Luvia murmured.

“Blessed be the healing Sun, most generous giver of life!” Vordius burst out.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Uni felt like the pile of sand was leaning and leaning, pouring and pouring into a sinkhole somewhere on his left. Terrified that he would be sucked into the sinkhole with the sand, he grabbed at the edges of the jug, but his arms were still leaden and refused to obey him.

“Lie still!” said Luvia, brushing her fingers across Uni’s forehead.

The jug started to crack, and pieces began falling away from him. The room around him began to look like its usual self.

An unfamiliar male voice somewhere in the distance pronounced that he needed to drink something.

“Let me do it, father,” someone said, and gentle hands brought a cup of something bitter and herbal to Uni’s lips. “Help him sit up a little,” Luvia told Vordius.

Vordius complied immediately, and Uni felt his lips curl in something like a smile.

If I’m drinking something, I must be alive! he thought ruefully.

“I’m surprised he survived,” Septinel Tokto’s elegant baritone shook, betraying his concern as a physician and his amazement as one of the most important members of his profession in the Empire who had seen almost everything in his time. “With cistrusa poisoning, if the patient isn’t given the antidote before he loses consciousness, nine times out of ten he won’t pull through. And that’s if the patient is a warrior. I only know of one man who had cistrusa poisoning and still walks the earth.”

“Who was that?” Uni asked in a weak voice. Until he heard his own voice he hadn’t been sure he could speak. It was only then, eyes wide in fear, that he realized what had happened to him. His friends understood what he couldn’t say.

“Please stay calm, Little Uni,” Vordius said in a calm voice. “It was poison. The honorable Enel Tokto has seen enough cases in his life to be sure on that point.”

The former chief physician for the Imperial Army nodded. “The symptoms are classic. It couldn’t be anything else. But since you’re still here, I think you’ll be back on your feet soon enough. There’s no cause for real concern. But how did it happen? Perhaps it was a very small dose? The whole thing is very strange.”

Vordius hung his head. It had always seemed an inexplicable turn of fate that he possessed the very qualities that were lacking in his best friend. The well-built young man’s charming smile had always attracted the fair sex, who all agreed that the girl who married him would be a lucky young woman, indeed. Vordius, however, unexpectedly chose for his future wife the modest Luvia, who had generally gone unnoticed among the showier young men and women who made up high society in the capital. In fact, quite a few people hadn’t even known of her existence until her engagement was announced.

As an innkeeper, Sevelia Virando always knew the latest news, and she had explained to her son just how sensible Vordius’ choice had been. Luvia’s father was not famous, but he was respected both by the Empire’s elites and by its simpler folk. He held the post of senior priest of Sangia, the god of protection from illness. That made him the Emperor’s chief physician and the chief inspector of hospitals, markets, and water pipes. It was not, of course, a prestigious post, but it was undoubtedly useful and it earned him the loyalty of the people while keeping him far enough away from palace intrigues to ensure him a long and peaceful tenure. Septinel only took the smallest of bribes – solely out of respect for tradition – and people spoke of his honesty with the utmost admiration. A less upstanding man than Septinel would have had a hard time keeping his greed in check if given the power to expel any merchant from the giant covered market for selling something that was past its prime or even simply unfamiliar. Septinel was actually not too shy about such expelling. He had not learned his profession at the Imperial Academy, but rather on the battlefield when he had ridden on campaigns with the present Emperor’s father. Having seen firsthand how an entire army could be brought to its knees by drinking water from the wrong stream, he was not one to take bribes to look the other way in matters concerning public health.

Tokto was similarly strict with his daughter, politely but firmly beating back her admirers whose sincerity he doubted most heartily. The general opinion was that he was putting in a double effort to protect his daughter to make up for the fact that she had lost her mother as a small child when an epidemic of Semerian malaria swept through the Empire. Indeed, Tokto had been true to his wife’s memory for seventeen years.Vordius, with his old-fashioned views and natural tenderness, found the only possible way to Septinel Tokto’s heart. With his usual directness, he made friends with the father, and after a few months Tokto told his daughter she would be a fool not to take notice of such a worthy young man. As a result, Vordius soon felt like a member of the family. That idyll was now threatened, and Vordius felt culpable for involving Luvia’s father in a matter involving a poisoning.

“I swear by the Sword of the Heavenly Throne that I will find out who did this, no matter what it takes!” He strode back and forth like a caged tiger. “How could this have happened? It makes no sense!”

His future father-in-law accepted the situation with the philosophical reserve of a professional who had been through much more serious crises, and he betrayed no sign of dissatisfaction that his beloved child had gotten mixed up in a situation that simply reeked of the underworld. Instead, he rose before the sun and, against all the rules of polite society, paid an unexpected visit to an inconspicuous villa that stood in a grove of young oaks on the edge of Trikazinso. After drinking a cup of Ulinian wine with its owner, his old friend from campaigns in Torgendam, he put a few direct questions and received reassurance that his safety and that of his daughter were being guarded by men no less talented at their work than he was at his surgery and healing work. After that early morning meeting, Tokto returned home so he could pat Vordius on the shoulder and kiss his daughter on the cheek. Before leaving home again to handle official business, he checked on his unexpected patient and reassured him that all would be well.

It did not seem that there was any serious cause for the most experienced physician in the Empire to be concerned. After sleeping for almost twelve hours in a row, Uni felt much better. He was still too weak to lift his head, but his strength was slowly returning – to the obvious surprise of Tokto and the delight of his friends.

Vordius sent word to the Guards that he was unable to report for service that day. Then he went to find Sevelia Virando and bring her to Uni, telling her on the way that her son had been laid low by the effects of fortified Torgendam wine on his tender stomach. The friends had decided to keep the truth about Uni’s near brush with death a secret until they could find out exactly what had happened. This would be the job of the newest officer in the Imperial Guard. Once Sevelia was gone (she had fortunately arrived to find her son sleeping peacefully), Vordius detained his future father-in-law to ask some detailed questions about how to find the source of the poison.

“Tokto is convinced it was cistrusa,” he announced as soon as Uni woke. Curled up on his left side with his eyes half-shut, Uni did his best to make sense of the information. “It starts to act an hour or two after you ingest it. If that’s the case, then you were poisoned at the Fish. I’ll tear that place down to the last floorboard, may the Dark Chasm take them!”

Uni took a deep breath. “I don’t think a scandal is what we need. Remember who their guests are. The owner keeps a tight watch over the kitchen. If the poisoner had tried to bribe one of the waiters or kitchen staff, it would have been discovered.” His voice trailed off. “And how would anyone in the kitchen make sure that I was the one who got the poison? It would be too difficult.”

Vordius scowled. “You should have seen how those fools jumped when I told them what happened! They paid for the carriage and offered to send a physician if only we would keep our mouths shut. You ate dinner at the Fish and nearly died on the doorstep. If the other patrons knew, they’d have the place shut down for good!”

“Exactly. That’s why I think it was someone at our table who did it.”

“One of your friends?”

“Oof.” Uni tried to sit up. “No one else could have done it. It’s awful to think about it, but if you’re right about the poison, it had to be one of our party.”

Vordius stared at him. “You don’t suspect Luvia or me, do you?”

“Of course not,” Uni smiled weakly. “You’ve had plenty of chances to kill me before this.” He patted his friend’s hand.

“Thank you for your confidence.”

“That leaves three people: Dag Vandey, Sorgius Quando, and that suspicious redhead of his.”

“I didn’t like the looks of her, either. Dag is an odd one, of course, but you’ve been friends since we were all boys…”

Uni raised an eyebrow. “He has at least one motive.”

“What are you talking about?”

Luvia slipped into the room and looked questioningly at Vordius. After a pause, he nodded at a low bench in the corner. She sat down to listen.

“I didn’t want to say anything about it, but now that this has happened I’ll have to explain,” Uni said. “Dag has been trying to get me involved in a secret society of what he calls ‘fighters for justice.’ It’s obvious that they are up to no good. They may even be plotting against our beloved Emperor. He tried to get me worked up when we were out on the balcony at the Fish. I didn’t feel like serious talk, so I brushed him off. Perhaps he got scared that I would turn him and his friends in.”

“Dag a conspirator?” Vordius laughed. “He’s just an old moaner. He whines like nobody I’ve ever met, and he can’t stop himself from passing on rumors as long as they make someone else look bad.”

“I’m not so sure about that. A lot of the things he says make sense. I just don’t think his ideas are practical.”

Vordius shook his head in annoyance. “You know me. I don’t care whether it makes sense or not. Point me toward the enemy and I’ll bury him! All these bookworms have lost their minds, stirring up trouble and then pretending they didn’t mean it when something goes wrong. Dag’s an idiot! He should stick to his lawyering. If he likes giving speeches, let him do it in court instead of going out and exciting the riffraff.” He rubbed his chin. “There always was something off about him. I’ve always known it.”

Uni leaned back on his elbows, trying to stay somewhat upright. “According to what I hear, Dag isn’t just a lawyer. He defends poor people for free. He may be a fanatic, but he is also honest. He’d never try to poison a man.”

Vordius nodded in agreement. “He’s never been a sneak. And where would he have gotten the poison from if he wasn’t worried until after your conversation on the balcony? Did he bring it with him just in case? That’s nonsense.”

“Moving down the list. Sorgius. He’s the world’s biggest blockhead, but no one would ever call him a murderer. And he couldn’t possibly have a motive. He and I live in different worlds.”

“What about the girl? I can’t remember her name. Who was she?”

“I didn’t catch her name, either.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to find out.”

“That’s true.” Uni was silent for a moment. “I just don’t understand who could possibly want me dead?”

“Do you have any enemies? What about someone you may have angered on accident?”

“Not a thing. I’m a nobody, with no money and no rank.”

“What about this delegation you’re supposed to go on? Maybe someone doesn’t like it.”

“But who? There wasn’t anyone else in the running for my post? Old Barko and I are the only two people in the Empire who speak Virilan.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course. They could have hired a Capotian. Lots of the merchants who trade with Virilan know some of the language. But the purpose of our mission is so secret that they don’t want to risk letting a foreigner be present for the negotiations.”

“Do you mean to say that if you’re dead, the delegation won’t happen?” Luvia asked from her seat in the corner.

Neither friend spoke for a moment. Vordius stopped pacing the room. His mouth hung open.

“You hit on it! We both missed it, but you figured it out!”

“She is right,” Uni whispered. He lay back on his pillow and stared stupidly at the ceiling, which was painted to resemble the canopy of a forest in the evening light. “It’s as easy as shelling peas! I’ve been laughing about the secrecy around our trip because I thought it was bureaucratic paranoia. I had no idea things were so serious.”

“This is beyond serious! You’re a pawn in a dangerous game, and you didn’t even know it until now.”

Uni passed a hand over his eyes. “I always did think it was strange that there hasn’t been a delegation to Virilan before now.” He paused and took a sip of water from the cup at his side. “I suppose someone at the palace doesn’t want our Emperor to have direct contact with Virilan. I even have an idea who it might be. But what could he gain by going so openly against the Emperor’s will? Old Forsey was worried about hurting our relations with Capotia, but that was just for cover. The palace would never give up an opportunity to profit from direct trade, and we will need all the allies we can get if there’s a war with the Arincils.” He sighed. “It would be so interesting to get to the bottom of it all!”

“Just look at him!” Vordius exclaimed to Luvia before turning back to his friend. “Wake up, Uni. You’re in the real world now. You could get killed. Did you not know that?” His voice lowered. “You don’t need to be chasing down secret enemies. You need to hide before they find out you’re still alive!”

“Do you really think they would come after me here, at the home of the Emperor’s chief physician?”

“Great Sun, do you still not see? If they tried to kill you once, they’re capable of anything! They resorted to the most primitive type of attack, and that means they’ve run out of other options!”

Vordius crossed his arms and stared down at Uni, who lay helplessly in his bed. Then he turned to Luvia, whose light-blue eyes were full of pity.

“Here’s what we do,” he said. “Luvia’s father is off on official business. You two stay here and be quiet. I’ll tell the servants not to open the door to anyone. I’ll run down to the barracks and get five or so of my men. We’ll move you to my house until it’s time for your departure. That’s the safest way.”

“But I have to see my mother,” Uni objected. “And someone has to explain to her what is happening.”

“I will talk to Emel Virando. She does not need to know too much.”

“Is that so? I’d like to see you tell her that.”

“I’ll come up with something. She has always had a soft spot for me.” Vordius grinned.

“Of course she has,” Uni gave a wry smile. “You always defended her only son from the older boys at school.”

“See? It’ll work out somehow. And even if it doesn’t, they won’t let her into the barracks to see you.”

Luvia couldn’t help but object. “You’re terrible, Vordius! Why don’t you let me talk to her?”

“No, you two sit still!” he hissed. “Neither one of you so much as looks out a window. Your mother will thank me for this someday,” he said to his friend as he slipped out the door.

Uni folded his arms behind his head and made a sad face at Luvia. Once again, life was teaching him that he was not in control. Even of himself.

* * *

The most popular establishment in Enteveria’s southern port district bore the ridiculous name “Bedsores”. The secret to the success of this lowly tavern had nothing to do with its tasteless moldings and vulgar draperies which were intended to emulate the interiors of the Emperor’s palace. No, it was people’s finer moral feelings that brought them to Bedsores. If you were an upstanding merchant or middling civil servant and firmly convinced that it would be a terrible thing for your wife if you were to carry on an affair with another woman, then your feet eventually carried you to Bedsores. First of all, it was in a neighborhood where nobody would recognize you. Second, it was relatively safe. And third, because it was located near the port where there were lots of foreigners with their own strange beliefs, it seemed reasonable that the Heavenly Deity – who had nothing to do with nonbelievers – would not turn his eyes that way often.

Interestingly, those same upstanding merchants’ wives had similar ideas and habits, especially since Bedsores was strategically located close to a number of large markets that a woman could be expected to visit on her shopping days. The only risk was that a husband and wife might run into each other within the tavern’s walls; however, since men preferred to take their recreation after the end of the working day and women tended to stop by in the middle of the day, problems only occurred if someone violated this unspoken rule.

The rule certainly seemed to be in peril as a tiny woman wrapped in a brown head covering made her way through the masses of lower-class workers who were on their way to their evening entertainments. With a speed and lightness that did not match her status as a middle-aged matron, she quickly slipped around anyone blocking her way in the street, her rounded buttocks eliciting rude comments from the people behind her. Before the local troublemakers had a chance to wager as to her intended destination, she slid through the front door of Bedsores. Several people guffawed as the door closed behind her.

History ignored the matter of what adventures the port district’s young people went in search of that evening, but it paid close attention to the woman in brown. She gestured at the owner of Bedsores, a short, oily man with an unpleasant face, and he nodded and turned away from her. Then, the woman pulled her head covering over her face and headed up the wooden staircase.

It was a long way up. The tavern had four floors of rooms, and each floor was given a symbolic name: earth, water, forest, and sky. Since the residents of the most expensive rooms on the sky level did not wish to walk up four flights of stairs, the names were assigned in reverse order. So, in order to reach the cheapest rooms on the earth level, the woman had to make her way to the very top of the old building.

The landing at the top of the stairs was lit only by a smoking candle. In her haste, the woman bumped shoulders against a young man smoking a pipe filled with stinking herbs. He half-turned and mumbled something that sounded like “boiled slut!” before disappearing down the stairs. Stopping only briefly to comment on the past seventeen generations of his family – pigs, all of them – the woman finally planted her shoulder against the door of one of the rooms. It opened into an even darker room where someone had long been waiting for her.

The room was filthy. Calling it a hole would have been too charitable. It was a pigsty. In one corner was a construction made of creaky, stained boards. On top of that was a straw-filled mattress. Sprawled on the mattress was a heavy-set, gray-haired man of about fifty with light-green, almond-shaped eyes and a thin face that hinted at an aristocratic background. He gazed condescendingly at the woman, for she had interrupted him in the critical business of picking his teeth with a piece of straw that was probably already dried out when the world was created. For her part, the woman ignored his pantomime (although it was worthy of the Imperial Honto Theater) and sat down on the only chair in the room. Finally at rest after pushing her way through the streets, she removed her head covering. Her blue eyes betrayed a mixture of anger, indifference and exhaustion that did not bode well for the man on the bed. He sensed the change in the weather and decided to make the first move.

“Well? What could possibly be so important that you had to see me right away?”

The woman stood up quickly, and for a moment it seemed that she would hit him. She regained control, however, and spoke with composure.

“Oh, it was nothing, really. Nothing at all. Last night they tried to kill the interpreter.”

The man rolled his eyes and snorted. “You say they tried…”

Her composure spent, the woman leaped up and cried out, “They poisoned him! I told you not to get him mixed up in your affairs, and I knew you were lying when you said he would be safe!”

The man sat up and took her face in his hands. His eyes were blank and cold, like the eyes of a snake staring up out of a deep well. “Sit down,” he said. She fell back into her seat. Now, their faces were very close to each other, and her hands rested in his warm, calloused hands.

“Calm down and tell me exactly what’s been done.”

The woman took a moment to collect her thoughts. When she spoke, her voice was distant. “They tried to poison him at the Fish. Cistrusa. We have had someone near him all the time since he was put on the delegation, but our people didn’t see anything. It was a professional. The only mistake they made was not knowing that he seems to be one of the rare people who is immune to cistrusa. Vordius took him to Tokto’s house, and the good physician informed us immediately.

“Old Tokto always has both eyes open. Vordius, too. He made the right decision.”

“Yes, he did,” the woman replied in a monotone. “He’s a smart young man.”

“I was talking about his engagement to Luvia.”

“I see. Well, Tokto told them it was poison, so Vordius had five of his men move Uni to the barracks.”

“And the enemy?”

“Their men watched the house all night, and we watched them. They had men along the route to the barracks, but Vordius took back streets. He did the right thing, but I had to run to keep up. I gave the order to come out of hiding and engage the Yellows to the death, if necessary, but they withdrew.”

“Of course. They don’t want to raise a commotion. You did everything you could, except for one mistake: his friends. Have you uncovered who it was?”

“I have an idea,” the woman said, eyes flashing. “We will find out for sure, in any event. One thing concerns me, though. Vordius appears to want to investigate on his own.”

“Will he get in the way?”

“Doubtless. He’ll poke around until the entire beehive comes after him.”

“Would he be the son of Calbius Onato, the Imperial Guard veteran?” The woman nodded. “Then just keep an eye on him. That won’t be hard for you.”

She took a deep breath. “As long as Uni is still in the capital, the fate of the delegation hangs by a thread. Can you do anything to speed up their departure?”

“Believe me, Velenia, I am doing all I can.” At this, the man’s eyes looked tired.

“Has the Emperor been informed?”

“There’s no reason.”

The man stood and paced the room with his hands behind his back. “We have no proof,” he told her. “And if there is an investigation, the enemy will use it to postpone their departure. I am personally monitoring this whole business, and I’ll make sure their mistake costs them dearly!”

After seeing his visitor off, the man lay down and went back to picking his teeth with a piece of straw. The attack on Uni was an unforgiveable mistake, and all that had saved them was a chain of coincidences. The man hated coincidences because one never knew whose side they would favor. Who would get lucky next time? Uni would travel to Virilan with a person who was known and tested and who would be responsible for his safety. But what if a killer went along, too? The episode at the Fish showed him that even friends could not be trusted when the stakes were high.

* * *

He couldn’t be late. There was plenty of time left before the ceremony, which was scheduled for the third watch, but Unizel Virando had already leaped from his bed twice to look out the window at the sundial that was just visible from his room in the infirmary wing of the Imperial Guard barracks, where he was staying thanks to Vordius’ efforts on his behalf. It was one of the most precise sundials in all of Enteveria, second only to the one at the Great Lord’s palace. The Emperor Nazalio – the same one who rebuilt the capital on a much grander scale – had held a competition for a new sundial to be hung outside his palace. First place was won by the sculptor and scientist Ferintey, and his sundial was a work of art, featuring brightly painted bas reliefs celebrating the exploits of the Herandian emperors during the age of the Great Union. What made the sundial truly amazing, however, was the way it seemed to be suspended in the air above its stone platform. In reality, it was held up by three thin legs that were cleverly hidden by the viewing angle and by the shadow of the platform.

The sundial was a favorite stop for subjects of the Empire visiting Enteveria for the first time, but the palace courtiers who walked under it every day lived in fear that someday it would collapse under its own weight. Someone came up with the idea of having Ferintey build a copy so that the sundial could be replaced quickly if the courtiers’ fears came true. The copy was hung outside the Imperial Guards’ infirmary to keep it out of the way until it was needed, and it had hung there for two hundred years as a perfect timekeeper for the guards’ daily affairs.

“It’s too bad that the sundial doesn’t have a gong, like a water clock does,” Uni reflected sleepily. “It’s hard to sleep when I have to keep checking the dial.” He could have asked Vordius to have one of the servants wake him, but Uni already felt beholden to his friend and hated to ask for yet another favor. And there was something shameful, he thought, about needing to be woken in the morning, as if he were a small boy starting school.

“I’ll wake up when it’s time,” he promised himself as he lay back comfortably on the pillow. “I’ll wake up… Wait! What time is it?” He leaped from his bed, yesterday’s weakness gone. Instead of soft, early-morning rays, he saw blindingly bright light through the wooden shutters. “It’s all over! It’s all over! I’m late!”

Uni leaped to the window again. The sundial showed that it was almost noon. The top of his head felt cold, as if someone were dripping ice water on him from above. His thoughts bumped against each other, and his body felt torn in all directions at once. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, shaking his fists helplessly and looking around for something that could save him. “Calm down,” he told himself. “Get dressed and go find out what happened.”

Uni looked around and discovered that his robe was gone. Had the nurse taken it? He went out into the hall in his undertunic and found it empty. “Of course, everyone must be at lunch.”

Uni wandered through the unfamiliar building for what seemed like a long time without finding anyone at all. When he finally made his way outside, he ran to the sundial in hopes of finding that it was all a mistake. It really was noon. He felt like a terrible fool. Everything had been going so well, and then he went and overslept and missed the ceremony!

Helplessly, Uni looked around and suddenly felt strange. The courtyard was silent, and frighteningly so. The palace was always a peaceful place, but there were usually noblemen walking through on business or servants calling out to each other. Where were the guards at their posts? Why were the barracks silent, as if the Empire’s best warriors had suddenly disappeared? “I hope they aren’t all at the Emperor’s ceremony,” Uni tried to make himself laugh, but he couldn’t even smile.

After wandering around the empty courtyard a few more minutes, he decided to find the palace square. “They couldn’t have left without me! I’m the interpreter! And why didn’t anyone think to wake me?” Uni had never been in the barracks before, so it took him a while to find his way out of the labyrinth of paths and outbuildings. There was no one to ask directions from, so he ran on, hounded by his horror of what could have caused that heavy silence.

Finally, he found it. Like a pebble from a slingshot, Uni ran out into the palace square, but then something stopped him. He felt like he had run into an invisible wall. He put his hands out to protect himself from what he saw. The palace square was empty – there were no people anywhere and no signs that a ceremony had been held. “How could they…so fast…everyone’s gone…and it’s all been cleaned up!” And there wasn’t a soul around for him to ask. “Great Sun, am I asleep? What a stupid nightmare!” Uni pinched his left shoulder. It hurt. “Is it possible that all of this is really happening?”

If the imperial falcons had swung low in the blue, cloudless sky just then, they would have observed a strange scene: a small, disheveled man wearing nothing but his nightclothes was racing around the palace courtyard, running in and out of buildings like a beetle lost in a child’s maze. Tripping over his own feet in exhaustion, he ran through the palace gates, which stood open and unguarded. What he found outside the gates was even more shocking: the whole enormous city was empty, abandoned by its residents and left in awful, deep silence.

It suddenly dawned on Uni that he would never be able to go down every street looking for someone to explain what had happened. Even if he tried, he would eventually pass out on the hot stones, and no one would come to his aid because there was no one left. He was overcome by a terrible need to break the awful silence, a silence that swallowed up even the rustling of the leaves on the trees, the wind whistling between buildings, the waves on the Fela at high tide, and hundreds of other sounds that make up the background of life in a big city that has suddenly been emptied of its residents.

Uni stopped. He spread his arms and took a deep breath that filled his lungs. “When was the last time I breathed deeply?” he wondered. He wanted to yell as loud as he could, but the cold, dark, alien quiet seeped into his lungs along with the air. It filled him like an empty vessel. It stopped his heart from beating loudly and his lungs from filling and emptying noisily. Uni’s eyes widened in primal fear. He felt he was dissolving in the same sticky, invisible cotton wool that had already drowned out the cries of the palanquin bearers, the animated conversations of the merchants, the ringing laughter of women flirting with guards, and the enchanting sounds of the musical fountains that were a source of such wonder to visitors from the provinces.

Feeling wretched, Uni looked on the city’s empty streets as if he expected to disappear as well at any time. Just then, he caught sight of the dark silhouette of a person wavering in the noonday sun off to his right. “Stop! Stop! I beg you!” he cried, surprised by the sound of his own voice. He shook off whatever had been holding him and raced after the shadow as if the stranger held Uni’s own lifeline in his hand.

He sprinted around the corner of a red-brick shop with a sign featuring a crudely drawn baker with rosy cheeks and came to a screeching halt. Never in his entire life had he seen a woman with such beautiful, expressive eyes.

Imagine a deep, clear lake with crystal blue water, its shores encircled by an untouched forest that hides it from the eyes of the uninvited. You are making your way with difficulty through the thick woods, all hope of finding the right path gone, when suddenly you step through the trees and see the lake. Calm, quiet, and clear. Beautiful as only something that is truly ancient and truly young can be. In one breath, you realize that you don’t have to keep looking for your path, because you’ve come unexpectedly to its end and the thing you were searching for is right there in front of you.

That is an approximation of what Uni felt. The girl’s hair – the color of a wheat field at sunset – fell freely over her shoulders, shining around her with a golden halo. Her whole being seemed to have been formed from a wellspring of warmth and softness, and Uni felt like he had come face to face with a sunny breeze, as if the Heavenly Deity had run a hand over his head, leaving behind a pleasant wave of joy that reverberated throughout his body. In an instant, he forgot all about his troubles and the fact that he had missed an important event. All he wanted was to stand where he was for one more instant and savor the new color and flavor that his life had unexpectedly acquired.

No one knows how long the feeling lasted. It might have been the time that it took his heart to beat once, or it might have been an eternity. Time means nothing where beauty and harmony are at their peak and the order of all things has achieved perfection. The time for Uni to join that new world, unfortunately, had not yet come. The lovely stranger smiled with exquisite gentleness and leaned her head to one side, as if asking him to follow her. Under her spell, Uni obeyed. He forgot all about himself and where he was going, simply following her the way a person tries to follow a dream that he knows will be forgotten as soon as he awakes. The stranger floated in front of him with the posture of a young pine tree and a waist that begged to be encircled by his palms.

It was only now that Uni noticed the girl’s strange garment: halfway between a robe and a dress, it was dark blue, with sleeves that trailed almost to the ground. He wanted to see her face again, but her back was just as interesting. Uni remembered the backs he had seen before – bent and tired, fat and indifferent, or hard and unassailable, like closed doors. The girl’s back was different – kind, familiar and lovely, as if its owner was thinking about Uni all the time and might at any minute turn and bestow a shining smile on him.

He had no idea how long they walked, him following blindly, when suddenly he saw the dock and the ambassador’s ship and the Emperor in his most impressive robe. The wondrous magic did not last long. Suddenly, Uni found himself in a swirling crowd. It shattered the silence that had until this point filled his ears. He was afraid, more afraid than he had ever been in his life. What could be more horrible than the fear of losing someone dear, someone he felt was a part of his own soul? Uni helplessly looked for a way out of the crowd. He pushed people away from him, but the mass of bodies swirled tighter and tighter around him, lazily enjoying the defenselessness of his tiny boat in the churning vortex of the human crowd. The girl was gone, as if swallowed up by the crowd, and those precious moments of unforgettable joy dissolved without a trace in the hideous, drab gray of everyday life. Uni was struck by the realization that he no longer wanted any of the things he thought he wanted. The ray of light that had pierced his soul was dearer to him than anything else in the world, and he could not bear the thought of losing it. Like a wounded animal, he leaped over the people’s heads, over the heads of the horrible, stupid crowd. They did not hate or despise him, they simply never noticed him, as if he had no right to exist. But now, thousands of hands reached for him, grabbing his clothes, pulling him back, and a frightening choir of voices rose up from somewhere in this distance: “Uni, Uni!” Cold iron bands wrapped around his body. Uni struggled. He fought for his life, and…

“Uni? Are you still alive? You’ve been asleep for ages!” Vordius smiled down at him.

There was a fatherly note in his voice. Standing next to him, Sevelia Virando seemed to feel a threat to her parental monopoly, or perhaps she was offended by the thought that anyone would laugh at her poor, sick baby. “Vordius, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” she spluttered. “He’s still so weak. How many times have I told you that you shouldn’t let him drink with you? And then you tried to keep me away from him. He’s my precious boy.” She looked down at her son and smiled softly. “Uni, my little boy, how do you feel? Did you sleep well? Your stomach doesn’t hurt, does it?” When she asked this, her face took on a look of suffering that was almost comical. “Whoever came up with the idea of holding ceremonies in the early morning. People need their sleep!”

“It’s an eminently reasonable custom, Emel Virando,” came Dag Vandey’s voice, smooth but melancholic. “The Deity sits on his throne at noon, so we conduct our affairs in the morning and rest at midday.”

Sevelia turned on him. “Just look at you, as healthy as a herd of cows while my boy lies here barely alive. Whoever will take care of him in that foreign land?” she began to cry.

Uni glared at his mother, but in his heart he was secretly glad to see her. “Mother, how good it is to see you,” he smiled as he worked himself out of her embrace and reached for his robe. “How did you gain entrance to the palace grounds?”

Vordius grinned. “Close relatives are always allowed in when a delegation is leaving. I’m coming with you, too, but only as far as the square. I’m not important enough to stand next to you once the ceremony starts,” he joked.

“Of course they let your mother in,” Sevelia said proudly. “Now, here is your robe. Get dressed. Don’t worry about your things. I’ve already packed them all, and the servants will put them on the ship. I bought you a new bag with an icon of Erezney, the patron saint of wanderers, and a blue ribbon symbolizing our blue river. I put some food from home in the bag so you can at least eat well the first few days. Don’t go around eating just anything, Uni. And don’t drink. I don’t want you touching wine at all.” She looked up at the ceiling. “What am I supposed to do with you?” She had cried all night and, even though she had promised herself she would not cry in front of her son, she couldn’t keep from uttering the thoughts that worried her. “I took your things to the Cathedral of the Sun to have them blessed. May our Lord keep you!” These last words were whispered.

“That’s enough, Mother. I’ll be fine, as long as you don’t worry about me.” Uni felt a strange surge of energy, but at the same time, everything around him seemed unreal: the colors were too bright, and the shapes were exaggerated. He threw on his robe and, avoiding his mother’s loving hands, smoothed out its deep folds that fell almost to his heels. Vordius stuck his chin out and nodded in approval.

“Point me toward the ceremony!” Now that he was ready, Uni wanted to occupy his mind with government affairs.

“Your hair! What about your hair?” Sevelia exclaimed. “We forgot about it!”

“To the demons of darkness with my hair!” Uni replied. “Vordius, let’s go. You, too, Mother. I’m off on a grand adventure today,” and he gestured theatrically toward the door.

Outside, they were met by Sorgius and Luvia.

“I didn’t know I had so many close relatives,” Uni said. Vordius just smiled.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, you old drunk?” winked Sorgius as he threw an arm around Uni’s shoulder.

Luvia was truly glad to see him. “How are you feeling?” she asked shyly.

“I’m fine!” Uni told her happily. “Thanks to you and your father for taking care of me!”

“You can tell him yourself,” Luvia said with a smile as Vordius took her by the hand. “He is allowed to be here because of his rank,” she told Uni.

“I doubt you’ll see him,” Sorgius remarked patronizingly as he tried to remove an eyelash from his eye. “Each person at the palace has, what was it called? ‘An assigned place to be and time to speak.’ And you’ll be standing in different places,” the short Vuravian explained to his friends. “Uni, you go over there,” and he waved up and to the right.

Uni looked and saw two well-dressed men greeting guests as they came up from the Cathedral of Light to the square in front of the Imperial Residence, which was cordoned off by guardsmen shining in gold.

“The rest of us have to go this way,” Sorgius added. “We’ll be waving at you. Don’t miss it.”

Is this it? Uni felt agitated. He couldn’t wait to be there on the square. He turned to his friends with an embarrassed smile. Vordius grinned. There was nothing in his sincerely joyful eyes that could have aroused the least suspicion. Drawing Uni into an embrace, he hugged him until his friend thought his ribs would break.

“Take care of yourself, brother,” he whispered with unexpected warmth. “I’ll find whoever it was that tried to hurt you. They won’t get far, you know me.”

“Please don’t, Vordius!” Uni was truly afraid for his friend, knowing his hot temper and his tendency to decide problems by the most direct means. “You told me that there were important people behind it. I think I may know who they are.”

“What?” Vordius took a step back in surprise. “You know who ordered the assassination and said nothing this whole time?”

“I didn’t exactly say nothing,” Uni kept his voice down so his mother wouldn’t hear too much. Vordius nodded and took him by the elbow. Together, they went away from their group into the crowd, where the noise provided them something like privacy. “And second, the idea literally just came to me.”

“Don’t keep me waiting!”

“Digenius Forsey,” the young diplomat sighed. He was dead-set against the delegation. But that’s just a guess. Anyone with a financial interest against ties with Virilan could be behind it,” he gestured around at the crowd.

“That dried fish? And he calls himself a tutor!”

“Don’t, Vordius. Please. Everything will quiet down once I’m gone. If you stir things up, it will be worse for everyone. You wouldn’t go up against a man like that, would you?”

“We’ll see about that! He’s been a thorn in our side long enough.”

“In whose side?”

“The guards. The army. And some other people.”

“Vordius!”

“I don’t care! Someone tried to kill my best friend. Whoever it was, I’ll drag them out into the open!”

Uni started to feel ill again. “Listen, this is no joke…”

“Vordius!” Sevelia and Uni’s other friends were tired of waiting for the private conversation to end.

“One moment!” Vordius raised a finger and smiled. Then he put his mouth close to Uni’s ear. “Remember one thing, brother. My last piece of advice is this: don’t ever let anyone get away with anything. Ever!”

Their friends surrounded them, and there was no more time to talk.

Feeling weak, Uni clenched his fists and looked around at his friends’ faces. He didn’t even feel Luvia’s kiss, light as a breeze on his right cheek. Dag Vandey finally approached. Doing his best to look happy for his friend, he slapped the new interpreter on the shoulder and told him to make them all proud. Uni recalled Vandey’s talk about reforming society: how pale and unreal it seemed on a day like this one!

Sorgius, smiling like a friendly innkeeper, reached out and gripped Uni’s shoulder with a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. “Find yourself a nice girl,” he said quietly.

At the word “girl,” Uni shuddered. He had forgotten about the dream from that morning, but now it came roaring back in all of its excitement and beauty. That memory made him suddenly reflective, and he did a poor job of saying farewell to his mother as she embraced him and looked for even a small sign that he was sad to part with her.

“Goodbye, Mother. I hope you will be well,” was all he could manage. Sevelia kissed him three times, according to custom, and turned away, hiding the tears in her eyes with her brown head covering.

Uni turned to his friends and put his right hand over his heart. He smiled self-consciously and, shaking slightly with the feeling that something big and important was about to happen, turned and strode toward the palace, where the richest and most powerful men in the empire were waiting impatiently.

“Uni, I mean, Unizel Virando, interpreter,” he stated to the greeter in white. The man glanced up at him, and Uni’s insides quaked. I bet I’m in trouble. I should have been here earlier, he thought in shame. The greeter gestured to another man to show Uni the way and then promptly forgot about both of them. Uni’s guide was short, but he walked quickly, making it hard to follow him through the crowd. Instead of preparing himself mentally for what would come next, Uni was focused on not losing sight of his guide.

When they reached the line of guards, Uni shuddered again: he didn’t have any proof of his role in the delegation, and his stomach started to slide toward his heels. However, the imposing guards parted before him without a word, and Uni and his guide entered the square. The crowd inside the square was just as thick, but the people here stood in two neat rectangles, all facing the palace’s grand staircase. There was a walkway between the rectangles, and here Uni’s guide handed him over to another short man in a white robe.

“How many of these little guides are there?” the young diplomat wondered. His new guide quickly led him down the walkway toward the palace, and all the nobles in their bright robes stared at him as if he were being led down the gauntlet.

This torture ended when the sea of bodies opened and Uni caught sight of the column of Norius the Founder, which portrayed the leaders of the eleven kingdoms raising their hands to hail the first Herandian Emperor, who held his palms up in praise of the Sun. There was a small group of people standing around the base of the column, and Uni suspected they might be the delegation. He was right. His guide led him to yet another greeter, who turned out – to Uni’s horror – to be the ambassador’s personal secretary, Zimius Groki.

That dirty fraud, he exclaimed to himself, keeping his eyes off to one side as if he didn’t see his recent adversary. You’re the tool now, aren’t you?

Meanwhile, his guide opened a scroll and read from it, “Enel Unizel Virando, interpreter,” and waited for the secretary to respond. Groki turned to Uni with a look of skepticism and suspicion, as if he were about to snap at the guide, “Who did you bring up here, fool?”

Uni had steeled himself to be afraid of nothing, but now his heart hung over an abyss and goosebumps broke out on his skin. He knew that it was silly to be scared and that he didn’t need to prove or explain anything, but he couldn’t stop his stomach from quivering. A drop of sweat ran from his neck down his back. Groki leaned forward and gave a slight nod. The guide turned and was gone, leaving Uni alone with a man who was clearly his enemy.

“If you’re late again, we will leave you to bake in the desert!” Groki spat at him.

Uni nodded, trying to remember if there were any deserts in Virilan and what, now that he thought of it, the landscape and weather conditions were like. His place – at the far-left in the last row – spoke to his lowly status. The men standing near him turned to look at him before turning away in indifference. In the center of the front row, Uni spied Sanery’s extraordinary ears. The ambassador had heard his name announced and turned around to give him a slight but friendly smile. Uni was embarrassed, but reflected that a smile was better than nothing. The rest of the delegation ignored him, to his relief. The young diplomat stared at the men around him and soaked up the atmosphere of overblown formality.

The palace square was situated between the Emperor’s Residence, where the Great Lord lived, and the Cathedral of Light, which was the Empire’s most important religious building. Educated Herandians loved to argue about the proper relationship between religious and secular authority. On the one hand, the Empire’s subjects were exceedingly religious, referring to the Heavenly Deity early and often, in everything from market gossip to official documents. On the other hand, most people’s beliefs went no deeper than these words and the occasional attendance at a ritual. Judging by the prominent works of imperial art, the Empire was founded with the protection of the Heavenly Deity, and the Emperor was merely his steward. As the official imperial terminology put it, he was a servant like all the other subjects. In reality, however, the Empire’s religious leaders had so little influence on government matters that they were not considered a political force. Priests of the Sun were content with their many privileges and high salaries (paid each year by the treasury), and they rarely raised their voices unless the issue concerned their own internal affairs, which were always in a foul tangle.

Some people saw this as a sign of the inherent practicality of Herandians, while others complained that the government had drawn too close to the Cult of the Sun and strangled it in its embrace. The Emperor generally played the main role in the most important religious rites throughout the year, but he led the government on the basis of the law, the bureaucracy, and the army, not as a high priest, as was the custom in Mustobrim.

The Cathedral of Light reflected the fate of the religion underlying it. Built of granite and marble under Norius to host all manner of government ceremonies, it was soon competing with the imperial bureaucracy and the Great Lord’s Chambers. By the time of Uni’s story, delegations always left from the Palace Square, which represented a balance between the religious and secular centers of power. Coronations, funerals, and rituals associated with the solar cycle were still held in the Cathedral, so the priests still felt very much in the game. They would have retained the right to send off delegations, too, if it weren’t for an irritating footnote in the law governing official ceremonies that allowed diplomatic missions to leave from the Palace Square, provided that the weather was fine, because it was a shorter walk from the square to the river dock. The footnote was criticized by many for stooping to mention the weather and the walking distance, but it remained in force nonetheless.

Unlike his mother, Uni had never been particularly devout. He enjoyed the splendor of church services but secretly sympathized with the teachings of a sect of learned men who held that the sun could be worshipped for its life-giving rays without any need for cathedrals and priests. All one had to do, they taught, was rise at dawn, go to bed at sundown, and work hard in between. His job at the archive had kept Uni out of the sun for most of his young life, and he was especially glad on this day to part ways with his private fear that he would spend his best years shut away in a dank basement. He looked around at the sunlit square like a kitten that had just opened its eyes, nervous at first, but growing in confidence.

The crowd in the square was getting increasingly impatient. Uni sympathized. When would everything begin?

“Don’t squirm,” Groki barked from somewhere behind him. Or was he hearing things? Uni wanted to turn around and look, but suddenly a pure, deep tone rang out over the square. It was the Great Cathedral Gong, and the sound of its note penetrated deep in the heads and chests of all present. Even Uni’s nervous stomach was vibrating. It was time!

The sound of the gong melted in the mid-morning sun, leaving behind a light hum that did not dissipate, but instead grew stronger and stronger until it sounded like the droning of bees. Uni realized it was the sound of voices. Inside the Cathedral tower, a choir of children was singing the Hymn to the Sun. Uni’s head turned like a swivel. He couldn’t shake himself of the illusion that the singing was coming from the sky. Soon he heard the stronger voices of the older boys, and after a while they were joined by the powerful voices of the adult men. Uni knew the words of the ancient hymn by heart, which was always sung in the language of pre-imperial Herandia. He had always admired the hymn as a historical relic, but now he heard it with new emotion. This time, he did not find the pomp and spectacle amusing. Touched, and feeling serious, he looked away from the Cathedral roof just in time to see the most important moment unfold.

A long red and orange carpet had been rolled down the shining marble staircase in front of the palace. On both sides of the carpet, two lines of Imperial Guards descended the stairs in parallel lines. Covered head to toe in armor that shone with gold and copper, they stepped in perfect time down the stairs until they reached the polished granite of the square. The shining discs on their helmets all disappeared from view at once when the two lines turned to face each other and each warrior struck the ground with his spear. Then they froze, two living walls stretching from the square to the Heavenly Throne, that symbol of the Herandian monarchs that was without equal anywhere in the world.

According to legend, the throne was made from a single piece of sky-blue lazurite. By design, it was too large for even the tallest man to sit on, so the Emperor sat on a small pillow on top of the throne’s footrest. A large jewel was embedded in the back of the throne (perhaps a topaz or a diamond, Uni had heard several versions of the story).

The gong rang out again, and the singing grew louder. Now, the singing came from all sides of the great square. Priests in yellow, orange and red robes carrying banners of the Sun stood around the edge of the square. Their voices came together in a single current that overcame all who heard it. Again, Uni swiveled his head back and forth to see everything and almost missed the next event.

Just in time, he noticed that the crowd around the throne had grown. Dressed in elegant robes, shining cuirasses, or the red garments of the priests of the Sun, they were all part of the Imperial Council, which was the highest authority in the land and comprised 24 of its most influential and respected men. Uni had always suspected that most of them, despite their grand titles, had little to do with the actual process of determining the Empire’s policies and fates. The full council met rarely, and only for official events. It was said that the Emperor occasionally consulted with members of the council at large, but that most affairs were managed by the small circle of council members whom Uni had already seen. As he watched the members, he saw Licisium Dorgoe listening politely to someone he couldn’t see because he was hidden by another member’s golden armor. Just then, the crowd shifted, the owner of the armor took a step to one side, and Uni saw who Dorgoe was talking to: it was Manelius Ronko, dressed in a fashionably fitted, snow-white robe with a bright purple stripe down the middle. He was telling Dorgoe something with great animation when the large man suddenly took a step back, put his hands on his chest, and shook with rumbling laughter.

“May the Sun scorch me, would you look at that!” Uni thought with a prickling of envy. His eyes landed on another figure. “I wonder who that is? All the soldiers are wearing shining helmets. The one with long, dark hair must be Necium Tameto. He’s violating the dress code, but no one seems to notice. Those nobles don’t dare say a word to the man who protects the northern border!”

Tameto glanced around haughtily at his fellow officers. Uni recognized a few of them: Enritel Narzey, the commander of the Southern Fleet, Rarocium Hanmo, whose forces guarded Capotia and kept an eye on the Arincils, and Dergedium Lami, who often had to beat back the barbarians of Torgendam. He had heard rumors of money budgeted to repair ships that later disappeared without a trace. He had also heard that the Empire’s foot soldiers wore torn uniforms and were sometimes ”leased” into slavery, where they were glad to be given three square meals a day. He had no warm feelings for Tameto, but his seven-thousand-strong cavalry was considered the best trained in the entire Imperial Army, and its men had an irrational, dog-like loyalty to their brave leader. Uni assumed that the palace bureaucracy put up with the sad state of the rest of the army because it had been twenty years since the last war with the Torgs, the fearsome Arincils were far away, and only the northern border was ever breached by disorganized bands of Sotray nomads. And yet Tameto had left his men behind to take part in the luxury and intrigue of the capital, where backstabbing and infighting made up most of the officers’ combat experience. His interest obviously went beyond protocol. The man turned his hooked nose, and for an instant Uni feared that the scourge of the northern barbarians would strike him where he stood. Oh Heavenly Deity, my imagination is playing tricks on me!

The atmosphere of anticipation was electric, as if a storm was gathering its forces to rain down on the noblemen’s heads. Uni had been told what would happen, but he was completely unprepared for the experience of seeing it. He turned to the column of Norius and saw that the Founder’s hands where shining with a blue light – that was the effect of quartz-coated bronze mirrors on the hands that shone blue when they caught the sunlight. The effect was a stunning reminder of how Norius had been blessed by the Heavenly Deity when he founded the Herandian Empire four hundred years before. The flames in Norius’ hands flickered with the colors of the rainbow and shone in gold sparks. It was a sight to behold! Uni held his breath. The rainbow light reflected down on the delegation, himself included. Suddenly, he realized how wonderful the sight must be for the people in the crowd, where his mother and his friends stood. His heart filled with a warm joy. He would have liked to look for them in the crowd, but just then, Norius’ palms turned towards each other. A ray of sun shot out from between them and fell on the Imperial Palace, as if Norius were sharing the Deity’s power with his successor!

The ray of light fell on the throne, and the crystal embedded in it lit up with a blinding burst that made everyone squint. Uni had been looking in that direction to see what would happen next, and he slapped his hands over his eyes. The light from the throne was so bright that it made him dizzy, and the white spots on the backs of his eyelids pulsed with the rhythm of his racing heart. He heard the people around him cry out in amazement and fall to their knees. For the first time in his life, he followed along with everyone else. His only thought was a fear of going blind, and there was something comforting about the crowd and knowing that they were all equal in the face of the Heavenly Deity’s immeasurable power.

The people around him were whispering, but Uni kept his head down and his eyes closed until he heard a deep voice from up above him call out “Most diligent servant of the Heavenly Deity, protector of his people, tireless guardian of everything under the skies, His Majesty the Emperor of Herandia Kergenius!”

Seated at the foot of the great throne in a robe that sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow was the man whose name was spoken with awe throughout the Empire and in all of Dashtornis. Every Herandian knew that the true honor and praise were due to the Sun, however, and at just that moment the fire of its eye on the throne was subdued, leaving nothing but a faint golden glow around the Emperor’s head.

“You are not bowing to me, but to our Lord. I am merely the most diligent of his servants!” Uni recalled the words spoken by Norius. Centuries had passed, but the ceremony remained unchanged, and it still made people quiver in amazement.

Later, Uni could never remember exactly what the Emperor said during the ceremony. There was something about the Empire’s unshakeable foundations, its great mission to support harmony and peace in the world, and the Emperor’s own duty to ensure the prosperity of his subjects. Uni’s whole being was concentrated on the glowing light around the throne. The man standing before him was not the same man who had spoken kindly to him just the other day; no, he was the steward of the Heavenly Deity! If he could have seen himself, Uni probably would have laughed at his enthusiasm. As it was, he stood motionless, staring at the glowing crystal on the throne, all other thoughts and concerns carried away as if by a river. If he had paid attention, he would have found things to add to the Emperor’s statement of the usefulness of initiating diplomatic and trade relations with the Virilans based on “mutual respect and sincere trust on the part of both parties.” And he would have been interested to hear that the Empire was destined to bring the Heavenly Deity’s light to the world, specifically to Virilan, “like opening the windows in an old house to let the sunshine and fresh air in.” But he did not pay attention, only waking from his happy daydream when the sounds of a march reached his ears and a wave of commotion swept through the rows of people around him.

Ontius Sanery left the delegation and, ears at the ready, swept up the grand staircase with a dignity that came from decades of government service. Trumpets sounded when the ambassador reached the foot of the throne. Uni expected to see him bow, but Sanery suddenly turned his back to the emperor and spread his arms wide. From behind, a strange object – part helmet, part mask – was lowered onto his head. Once Uni got a clear view of it, he saw that the object was a lightweight frame made of gold wire. The sky above the square fell silent as everyone waited for the culmination of the ceremony.

“Ontius Sanery, Steward, second class, are you prepared to bear the Great Lord’s will to the leader and the people of Virilan?”

Uni could not see who was speaking, but it seemed to be the Emperor.

“The Lord’s will is like the light of his eyes: it is the same for all of us and a source of joy for each! There is no choice but to obey. Our freedom is in his will!”

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to speak for the Great Lord in Virilan?”

“I am ready!” the ambassador intoned after a decent pause. Two priests did something with their hands in front of his face. When they stepped back, Uni saw that a golden mouthpiece had been affixed to the mask on his head, large enough to be visible from the last rows.

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to be the Great Lord’s ears in Virilan?”

“I am!” Golden ears were affixed to the mask.

“Ontius Sanery, are you prepared to be the Great Lord’s eyes in Virilan?”

“I am!” Uni murmured to himself. A sliver of envy began to prickle him in a far corner of his heart. How he would have liked to be the first ambassador to that strange country and to be hailed as the one who opened it for Herandia! It was the world of his dreams – why had it been given to someone else? Uni felt like he was at a wedding where his best friend had stolen his bride and the only role left for him was as the groom’s best man. Why was life so unfair, even at joyous moments like this? Was it trying to show Uni his proper place? Yes, he knew his place.

I just want too much, he thought. “I’ve already been given a fantastic opportunity. Or is this a dream inside a dream?” His forehead went cold and he shivered. I must keep my imagination in check and praise the Sun for taking notice of me. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

In a flash, Uni felt that he was willing to pray to anyone’s God if only this tiny sprout of success would continue to grow and eventually bear fruit.

Meanwhile, Sanery had descended the stairs to the booming strains of a march. He had not looked the least bit ridiculous in his symbolic mask, and now he carefully carried a scroll. Uni knew that such scrolls usually enumerated the powers of the delegation and contained a greeting to the leaders of other states. As always, he had missed the moment when the scroll was handed to Sanery because he was daydreaming about his own glory.

He shook himself. “I really have to start paying attention! This isn’t the archive. I need to keep my eyes and eyes open at all times.”

When he reached the square, Sanery gestured for the delegation to follow him. In the pushing and shoving that followed, Uni tried to get closer to the head of the procession, but his neighbors used their elbows to keep him where he belonged. All he could do was give his body up to the stream of people slowly making their way through the streets toward the riverbank, singing hymns as they went. When they finally reached the river, Uni saw that the ambassador’s ship was at the dock. His attempts to find his mother or his friends in the crowd following the delegation were unsuccessful.

As he turned his head from side to side, something heavy came down on his shoulder. He spun around and saw the closed helmet of a palace guard. The helmet leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Enel Virando? Follow me. You are expected.”

“Already? Am I permitted to leave the line?” Uni had lots of questions, but his intuition told him to let it go. As he followed the guard through the noisy crowd, he felt like a criminal until the guard stepped aside and he saw Manelius Ronko standing in a niche in the side of one of the buildings. He was grinning like a cat.

“Most honorable Enel Ronko, I am pleased to see you!” and Uni did his best impression of the long form of Herandian courtly greeting.

The Emperor’s advisor nodded with satisfaction and slapped him on the shoulder. “As I am to see you, my friend! I was disappointed that you ignored my advice about avoiding wine, but I was equally delighted that you made such a fast recovery after that terrible unpleasantness. You are well now, I hope?”

“Yes, Enel Ronko!” Uni tried to look like he imagined a hopeful young civil servant would look. “It was just a dinner with friends. And I’m absolutely fine now.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I was going to give you some final advice, and then I thought better of it. Anything I could tell you would be empty words. You are the one who bears the responsibility from now on. It was my job to find you, and now that the Emperor has chosen you, my job is over.” He leaned forward with a serious face. “That, Uni, is the best way to manage people. Do not tell them what to do – simply help each one find his place. Do you agree?”

“Of course, Enel Ronko. You know more about it than I ever would.”

“Perhaps,” and the man laughed softly. “Is there anything else you want to say to me, Interpreter?”

“I don’t know.” Uni floundered for a second. “Although there is one thing you might want to know. When you took me to the Emperor’s chambers, I saw someone there. He looked like an Arincil. At least, that’s what it seemed to me. That’s all I know. I thought it might be useful to you, but perhaps you already knew about it…” his voice trailed off.

Ronko’s attention was aroused. “Wait. Did you say an Arincil? Are you sure about it?”

“I’ve never seen one in person before, but he looked exactly the way they are described in books. Tall, copper skin, a hooked nose…”

“I see. Thank you for telling me. Do you know anything else about it?”

Uni briefly recounted what he had seen in the back room at the palace, wondering what role his crumb of information might play.

Ronko nodded, deep in thought. “Good. I’ll make use of that. And now,” he said, “it is time for you to go. Your delegation is moving like a regiment of tortoises, but eventually they will miss you.” Then he gave a wide smile that Uni had never seen on him before. He shuddered, but Ronko just winked. “No fear. I have a gift for you. Consider it my thanks for your quick eye.” The imperial advisor leaned over him and held out something with two fingers.

“A ring?” Uni asked, wide-eyed.

“That is correct.” Ronko turned it so Uni could see it from all sides. Then he took Uni by the hand and dropped it in his palm. “Keep this as a talisman of your success on this mission. And wear it in good health.”

“Thank you!”

The ring was smooth in his hand. It almost felt alive, as if made out of some magic stone rather than metal.

“I’ll need to find a leather cord to tie it around my neck,” Uni thought. For the time being, he slipped the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly.

“Just you look at that!” Ronko declared in surprise. “With a fit like that, it must be your fate to wear the ring.” He smiled again, this time with a blend of understanding and even melancholy in his eyes.

Later, as he followed the rest of the delegation onto the ship, Uni couldn’t shake the memory of that smile. He had a feeling that Ronko could see the future and knew what awaited them all. The man wore his smile like a mask because he was burdened with knowledge. It all made sense.

As he stood on deck, it dawned on Uni that he was a pawn in a very complicated game – or even a whole series of games with an unknown number of players – but that he was, nonetheless, a very valuable pawn. It was a risky position, to be sure, but it was also his door to real life. Later, when he thought back to that day, he was only sorry that he had not managed to see his mother one more time or waved to his friends. As the ship pushed away from the dock and started to drift down the broad Fela, Unizel Virando looked away from the banks of the world he had always known and turned his eyes to the bow, from which he expected to greet a new world, a new calling, and a chance at a better life.

Hey there, life! Here you are, carrying me along like the river carries this vessel, and the riverbed itself, in turn, is formed by the hills and the mountains, and those… well, something takes care of those as well. What is the essence of all things being under the Heavenly Deity? How does one even figure it all out? How does one see the world in a droplet of water? Or rise above being that droplet? Hello, Fate! Hello, Good Fortune! Let’s get to know each other!

* * *

The icy cold water tumbling from the artificial waterfalls cooled the air pleasingly. Red, green, and blue lamps hanging in the trees flickered invitingly from the dark woods. Young girls dressed as river fairies sang and danced on small islands to the enchanting music of sitars and flutes. A carved wooden boat with a canopy in the style popular in Ulin was drawn downstream by small canoes shaped like seahorses. Enel Dorgoe was slowly gliding along the winding canals that surrounded his villa, his large body arranged on soft pillows. His left hand held a cup that was made of green glass and filled with sweet Perian wine. Eyes closed, one of the most influential courtiers of the Herandian Empire enjoyed a relaxing moment while making his plans for the morrow.

“Master! Master!” came the voice of Huraria Zhoslo, his butler. The man was jogging along the bank to keep up with Dorgoe’s boat, all the while attempting to bow. “Please accept my apologies for intruding on Your Excellency’s peace and quiet!”

Dorgoe hated to be bothered when he meditated in the evening, but he felt it was his duty to be available to handle important matters. “Come here, my friend” he held out a hand to his servant.

Zhoslo, dressed as he was in an embroidered silver and dark brown robe, jumped into the canal and, up to his waist in water, made a heroic effort to keep up with the boat as it drifted further and further away.

He looks like a bear trying to swim, Dorgoe thought. “I see that you have something important for me,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, Master!” Zhoslo cried out, gasping for air. “Our guest has left the capital and is on his way to the Great Expanse. We have successfully…ensured the confidentiality…of the mission!”

“I am glad to hear it,” Dorgoe nodded and took a sip of wine. “You may hold onto the edge of my boat. I see you are tired out.”

“Thank you, Master!” Zhoslo gasped and wrapped his hands around a carved sturgeon on the boat’s port side, hanging there like a piece of eel grass.

Dorgoe set his cup on a small table with three thin legs, scratched his fat chin with his thumb, and sank into deep thought. It had been no small feat getting the Arincil out of the capital without mishap. But it would be utter foolishness on his part (and he knew it) to assume that his enemies would remain blind to his plans until the whole business was finished.

“Tell Asp,” he turned and rested his left elbow on a soft velvet cushion so he could better see Zhoslo, “that he will answer to me personally for the success of the operation. Personally, do you hear?”

“Right away, Master!” Zhoslo nodded emphatically. “I hope that he is still worthy of your faith in him!”

Dorgoe snorted, setting his cheeks aquiver. The man splashing in the water was the kind of servant who, if shown a chest containing his master’s darkest secret, would dust it every day without even the slightest desire to open it. The de facto minister of foreign affairs reflected that the best protection was often offered by the narrowest mind. Zhoslo had no clue that the small war that would result if the Jaguar returned home (and which Herandia would have to lose) would help Dorgoe discredit the Imperial Army, one of the few institutions that had so far resisted his hairy paws. If things went according to plan, he might be able to replace certain figures with his own people. But no, it was too early to think of that!

His mind returned to what Zhoslo had said about his faith in Asp. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he smiled. “And perhaps it was not a mistake after all. In any case, we have a backup plan. The most important thing is that no one suspect my involvement if the whole thing falls apart. Make sure Asp sends the key witnesses into the Shadows. I think Tameto is entirely too fond of his little men!”

“Yes, Master!” the butler bowed, accidentally putting his face in the water. “Shall I go?”

“Yes,” Dorgoe mumbled. “Would you like some wine?” he suddenly asked, holding up a metal pitcher made in Mustobrim.

“I thank you for your generosity, but I am not worthy of it!”

“Of course. And you still have to swim back. If I get you drunk and you drown, what would I do without you? Now get going!”

Struggling in his wet robe, Zhoslo stumbled along the sandy bottom toward the bank.

The star Utaru in the constellation of the Thief had been watching the whole scene from behind a cloud and winked dryly.