Zhaskur- Part Three - Masquerade
#3 of Zhaskur
Exposed! Or ... is he?
Zhaskur
Chapter Three: Masquerade
by Onyx Tao
Copyright 2013
Stars twinkled into clarity outside the huge double window of the Dowager Court in the Emir's Palace as sunset passed into night. The petite silver gnoll sometime-Prince Rwenthelethance sat next to me, looking stunned. I suppose I was surprised, too. I'd expected another bounty hunter after me; there's any number of them who'd love to take down the Black Mark if (although only if) they'd be paid for it -- but I hadn't thought my ex-partner Arkadia would be one of them. I'd left her, she'd left me -- it had been mutual. I wouldn't have taken a mark on her.
Well, not for my usual fee, anyway.
Of course, King Cumbermoon was offering far beyond Arkadia's usual fee, I supposed. Enough to engage Arkadia, clearly enough. And ... Arkadia was good. Very good. She brought her marks in, and she knew all of my tricks. At least, some of my tricks. I hadn't told her everything. In retrospect, though, anything I had told her was too much. Although I knew her tricks.
At least, some of her tricks.
She probably hadn't told me everything, either. And, because of the Emir's paranoia -- albeit fully warranted paranoia -- I was pinned here in the Palace, unable to defend myself. And the guards were good, but not good enough. Not against Arkadia. Maybe those wards were. Dealing with magic is tricky, but it can be done, and I know several approaches to do it. I'd never go up against non-human magic by myself, and I doubted Arkadia would, either. And ... there were still precautions I could take. Rwence, as befitted the grandson of the Emir, was never, never outside the view of at least one guard, and usually three. That would take her some time to figure out, it depended just how far she'd traced me. I wondered if she knew I was behind the curtain; I'm not sure how much of a secret it was that the Incandescence Rwenthelethance, Prince of Zhaskur (more of a Princess, for all that he was male) had taken a human attendant. Arkadia was too much of a professional to look up at the balcony, whether she knew I was there or not.
I had to assume she knew. But she wouldn't risk throwing anything through the curtain, and I doubted she'd risk anything in front of the Emir.
The Emir knew, of course. Nor did it escape me that she didn't even so much as twitch in my direction. I wondered what she was thinking. I'd have given a lot of money to know what the Emir was thinking, but other than the mildly disapproving frown she had for this disturbance of her Sunset Court, I couldn't read her expression. I didn't think Arcadia could, either. Had she ever mentioned working with gnolls before?
"I am informed that your petition is best heard quietly," the Emir said, turning that coolly distasteful look onto Arcadia and the black-clad gnoll. "It is an indulgence I grant because I trust the legate's judgment." Every line of her face suggested she was reconsidering that judgment. "Legate Barmaquaual, please make your presentation."
"My client is capable of speaking for herself, Incandescence, and I judge her a sufficient advocate."
The Emir nodded with the bland assurance of a sovereign, and turned the pressure up just a little more with "It is always good to have an opportunity to evaluate trust, then. Proceed."
"Thank you, Incandescence," Arkadia began. "Eight months ago, His Highness Prince Cumberlake was murdered -- assassinated -- by a criminal..."
"Halt," the Emir interrupted, waving a hand in something like irritation. "Although I am certain this anecdote relates -- it had best relate -- begin by introducing yourself, and what you seek from me. You may then present whatever explanation or evidence you have to support your petition ... I would have expected Barque to instruct you on the form."
"He did," Arkadia said, and that was a great relief to me, right there, that Arkadia didn't know enough about gnolls to understand their reversed gender. I'd still have to find some way to get rid of her, but she'd have no longstanding contacts to use. "Forgive me, Your Incandescence. I am Arkadia Twice-Risen, and I request permission to take into custody an extremely dangerous killer fleeing Cumber."
"The kingdom or the city?" the Emir asked, somewhat to my surprise. Although the city of Cumber is in the kingdom of Cumber, it's a free city, so there is a difference, but I wouldn't have expected her to know that. And I realized that I just kept underestimating this very intelligent ruler. Maybe it was because of I'd heard, or my own expectations, but ... Rwence had told me that the Emirate changed rulers by ... staged assassination, that one of her heirs would kill her and then hold on to the throne. That's how she got the throne in the first place, after all, and she'd obviously kept it for ... many years. I made a note to stop underestimating her. She might well be one of the most dangerous persons in this city, both personally and politically.
No, no, no. Not might be. Was. Very definitely, was.
"The kingdom, Incandescence."
"The specifics?"
"As I mentioned, the heir to King Cumbermoon, Prince Cumberlake, was murdered eight months ago. The killing was carried out by a well-known assassin, the Black Mark, a notorious outlaw. I have a warrant -- in King Cumbermoon's own hand -- for his arrest and return to Cumber."
Rwence turned to look at me, and all I could do was shrug. It was true, although ... notorious outlaw wasn't how I'd describe myself.
"And you believe this notorious outlaw is in my city." The Emir's voice was flat, not so much asking a question as prompting confirmation.
"I believe so, Incandescence," Arkadia said cautiously. "I tracked him onto the Paxson's Pledge, a ship which sailed directly from Cumber -- the free city -- to here. That ship was headed for Ranapur, Incandescence, before it was impounded here."
"An endless stream of ships head to Ranapur from my port. And to Mumbai. And to Sitpur. And other places, farther than that," the Emir said with mild disinterest. "It seems unlikely that a human outlaw would remain here, in a city of gnolls. He would stand out, even portside."
"There have been sightings of him, Incandescence. One as recent as four days ago, and ... there have been no Ranapur-bound ships in the last week."
"Ranapur ... why this insistence on Ranapur?" The Emir actually leaned a bit forward, finally allowing a little interest into her voice.
"He has contacts there, Incandescence. I know him, well enough to know where he'd flee."
I grimaced. That was true, and much more so than I would like. When had I mentioned Roderigo to her? Had I? I didn't think I had -- and when I thought about it I realized I hadn't mentioned Roddy or anything connected to him. How had she found out?
"Is that so?" the Emir said. "I suppose, it might be. Your story is consistent, I admit."
That surprised me, and Arkadia looked surprised as well. That is, she looked surprised to someone who knew her. She's actually got a pretty good poker face.
"This person is known to me," the Emir said calmly. "Don't look surprised. It's my business to know when ... certain sorts enter my city. I knew you were here, too, Arcadia Baker."
Baker? Even I didn't know what that meant, although it gave Arkadia a start. I figured it out a moment later. Twice-Risen. Baker. Clever! I'd been her partner and lover for nearly a year, and even I hadn't known that.
I was really going to have to watch out for the Emir, too. My respect for her just kept going up.
"I placed him under arrest, yesterday. A known assassin lingering in my city ... I sleep better, knowing he is under watch. Careful watch. Can it be that you were aware that I arrested him? No, no, don't answer. I know that you and he have worked together, too, Arkadia. He gave me a story that ... sounds something like yours, although from the other side. Too much so. I don't trust it, I don't trust him, and I most certainly do not trust you."
"Incandescence..."
The Emir held up her hand. "Does your warrant say alive or dead?"
"Yes, Incandescence, but His Majesty will pay more for him alive. Much more." Quick note to myself: do not let anyone take me alive.
"You have been hunting in my city for five days already, Arkadia," the Emir said with a very faint hint of amusement. "And yet only now you seek permission?"
"Because ... I heard a rumor that you had arrested a human assassin, Incandescence."
"And you expect me to hand him over?"
She shrugged. "Incandescence, I am certain that you would not hand him over if I didn't ask."
That made her laugh, a short, growling bark which sounded nothing like a human laugh. "True. Good answer, I like that. Amusing. Point to you, Arkadia. I will think on your petition. My first impulse, frankly, is to put him on a ship to Ranapur and let you follow him there."
Have Arkadia chasing me through Ranapur? Somehow I didn't think Roderigo would appreciate my showing up with pursuit that close behind me. On the other hand, if I knew she was on the next ship, that could be promising; I nodded to myself. I could work with that.
"His Majesty is most anxious for the Black Mark's capture, and I am sure he'd be grateful."
The Emir shook her head. "He has nothing I want."
"I had thought you were in negotiations with him."
"No," the Emir said. "Although I grant he may imagine otherwise. But there is nothing he has that I want, and so there is no basis for negotiation." Something that might have been a smile crinkled her face for just a moment. "And I am not in the habit of extending credit."
"Perhaps someday a criminal from Zhaskur might take refuge in Cumber ..."
"A gnoll? In that frozen wasteland?" The Emir laughed again. "I can scarcely imagine a more grinding punishment than exile to Cumber."
"It would remove an assassin from your city."
"It would remove two, if you go with him," the Emir said with a smile. She leaned back, and paused for a moment before continuing. "You do have one thing right, Arcadia Baker. There are too many assassins running around for my comfort. Where are you staying in port?"
"The Peeled Onion."
"Unsuitable." the Emir said calmly. "You will move to the Elephant's Goad -- you know where that is?"
"Yes, but it's..."
The gnoll shook her head, and continued. "Your funds will cover it. You will go directly there, and you will stay there. From time to time -- at no predictable time -- the port guard will call on you, to ensure you are still there." The Emir leaned forward on her chair, her smile and the faint semblance of amusement suddenly replaced by an intent stare. "If you are not there, the guard will search for you." She leaned back on her seat. "I am given to understand, and I even believe, that you are bold and skillful. There is a chance you might leave my city alive, Arcadia Baker, if when my guard calls, you are not there. I don't think it's a good chance, because my guard is skillful, too, but there is a chance, and if you slip that leash, and escape my city -- there will be no hard feelings on my part." The Emir showed her teeth in a most unfriendly smile. "But in that circumstance your return to my demesne -- for any reason whatsoever -- would be unwise."
"Otherwise, in two or three days, when I have decided how I shall deal with you and your petition, I will send my guard to bring you back to my court. Perhaps I shall hand over Black Mark to you. Perhaps I shall tell you I've sent him on to Ranapur. Perhaps I shall send you back to Cumber. I will, however, send you on." Her head tilted a bit to the side. "Do I express myself and my will to you with clarity?"
"I... Yes, Incandescence. Your terms are clear. Although..."
"Yes?"
"If you do send him on to Ranapur, Incandescence, I'll just have to bring him back through Zhaskur." Arkadia shot her own confident smile back at the Emir. "And if you don't turn him over, then I'm just the first bounty hunter to arrive."
"What happens on any particular to-morrow," said the Emir calmly, "is that to-morrow's business. Legate Barque, I am making you responsible for seeing that your client gets to the Goad, and that her possessions -- if any -- are transferred as well."
"Yes, Incandescence," and the black-clad gnoll bowed deeply. "I accept your commission."
"This Sunset Court is closed," the Emir announced quietly. "Let it be known that the Emir's Evening Court will open three hours hence ... in the Opal Gardens."
And that seemed to be the signal for everyone to leave. The Emir left first, of course, rising and vanishing behind the throne while the gnolls still there bowed. Rwenthelethance just sat, his arms pulled up around his knees, where he'd moved when Arkadia had first walked in. He was staring into the emptying court through the gauze that concealed us, and thinking. I wished I knew what he was thinking.
He was just turning towards me, to say something, I thought, when the Emir entered our balcony, accompanied by four hobgoblin guards and the drab little gnoll -- Liarn, I thought. Whatever Rwenthelethance had been about to say vanished as he looked up at his grandmother, and his expression changed to one of surprise, and then, doubt.
I shifted my attention from Rwence to her, and ... she just looked intent. Not angry, not suspicious, just focused. "She was here much sooner than I expected," the Emir said.
"You expected her?" Rwenthelethance asked.
"Once I knew you'd hired the Black Mark, here, yes, certainly. Our security suffices to exclude human assassins." She gave me a stare. "Assuming they aren't invited in."
"He's not here to..."
"Probably not," the Emir conceded. "I do have confidence in your art, Rwence, truly I do, but that's no reason to be overconfident. It might have been that incident with the cook, causing word to spread more widely. Or it might have been an informant. I don't know. Yet. I intend to, though."
"If there were a security breach, Grandmother, I don't think it was from the harem."
"No," said the Emir. "I agree with that. The hobgoblins are incorruptible. Almost certainly it leaked from the Palace -- if it leaked. Liarn. Measure the human."
"What are you doing?" asked Rwence as the other gnoll moved forward, with, of all odd things, a measuring cord, and began taking measurements.
"Preparing, of course," the Emir said. "I don't have a ... complete set of facts yet, but Mark's story about being cheated appears to be correct." She turned to me. "The inspector who cheated you, if in fact and as now seems likely, you were cheated, killed herself before she could be arrested. Unfortunately. Although it provides corroboration, I would have preferred a written confession."
"She might not have confessed," said Rwence slowly.
"She would have received a painless execution," the Emir said, "in return for a full and accurate confession."
From the anger in the Emir's tone, I suddenly thought that, for her, that might be a very generous offer. "You wouldn't accept my written statement? Presumably ... verified by Rwence or another calligramancer?" I asked.
"If, and I say if, you are here as an assassin," the Emir said, "you have already defeated calligramancy of the highest order." She nodded to Rwence. "But it can be done. Is that not so?"
"Yes," the silvery gnoll admitted. "But not without my knowing it. It's my magic."
"Liarndesmandes?" the Emir asked.
"If Rwenthelethance is beguiled, Great Lady," the gnoll said in a subdued voice barely above a whisper, "it is beyond my skill to notice."
"Good," said the Emir.
"You thought I was beguiled?" asked Rwence, surprised.
"No, but Mandallazaor was," the Emir said. "We're not sure who laid it."
"Liarn?" asked Rwence, sounding puzzled.
The little gnoll dropped to the floor, and prostrated himself on the floor. "I failed you, Incandescence," he said, sounding miserable. "The Great Lady has forgiven me -- I cannot imagine why -- but I did not scent the hint laid on Mandallazaor. Not until after, not until it was too late. And even now I cannot tell how it was done, or who performed it. Forgive me, Incandescence!" That last came out in an almost desperate whisper.
"Then it wasn't gnollish magic," Rwence said, almost instantly.
"What?" The Emir looked surprised, and Liarn peered up from the floor as well.
"If Liarn couldn't tell it was there until it awakened, it wasn't gnollish magic," Rwence repeated. "Not ours. Grandmother, Liarn is ... exceptionally skilled. Our magic -- gnollish magic -- could never evade his notice. It might puzzle him, it might confound him as to its purpose, but that it was there ... Liarn would never miss such a thing."
The Emir tapped a finger gently against the railing. "I'm not ruling it out completely, but that is interesting, and I will focus my inquiries ... could it be goblin?"
"Maybe," Rwence said dubiously. "I've never seen a goblin spell of befuddlement, and I'm not even sure they have that kind of magic. It just doesn't fit their mindset; they twist flesh and words, not minds. I was wondering about orcish, though."
"Orc?" the Emir sounded startled and unhappy, and then she looked down at Liarn, still spread on the floor. "Could it have been? Orcish?"
"There is no way for me to know, Incandescence," Liarn whispered, so low that I could barely hear him. "I dissipated the magic. I ... I had assumed it was gnollish, but merely unfamiliar."
"Unfamiliar like orc, or unfamiliar like goblin?" the Emir said.
"Forgive me, Great Lady!" the gnoll whispered, sounding almost on the edge of tears, and he was trying to force himself through the floor again.
"He can't tell, and there's no way to check at this point," Rwence said, "if it's been dissipated."
That produced a short, harsh and very angry sound from the Emir. The little gnoll on the floor cringed, and even Rwence pulled back a little from her. After a split-second consideration, I moved myself between the Emir and Rwence. She eyed me sourly. "So ... that magic might have been ... human, might it not?"
"Maybe," said Rwence. "It could have been elvish. Maybe it was unicorn magic."
"Unicorn?" asked the Emir, with a look of confusion, and I admit, that confused me, too.
"As long as we're needlessly speculating," Rwence said. "All we know with any certainty is that it is vanishingly unlikely that the magic was gnoll."
"Suppose it were gnoll; who might have slipped something past Liarn?"
Rwence paused, and was clearly thinking hard. "That's ... that's a good question. I don't think I could," he said after a long moment. "So it would have to be someone at least as skillful as I am, or better. Diax might be better, but he's a cloudwright, and something like this just isn't in his power. I'm better than Liarn, and Liarn is the most skillful miragesmith, without question -- this isn't a matter of power, this is a matter of skill, and there Liarn is heads above the others. Trying to hide something magically from a miragesmith? No. Impossible. That's really just Diax and myself, I think, and I'm not sure I could do it, but I've never really thought about trying ..." he paused. "If I were trying to conceal some kind of ensorcellation, I would probably try to hide it in another spell -- so there'd be a reason to sense magic." He looked up as the Emir, who was watching him closely. "Does that help?"
"I don't know," the Emir said. "It gives me something to think about," and she turned.
"Grandmother," Rwence said, urgently.
The Emir stopped, and turned. "Yes?"
"Mark has my trust, Grandmother. And I want him."
"You want him," she repeated.
"Yes," the white gnoll said calmly. "I want him. And it's not fair to him to keep him waiting for your decision like this."
She looked at Rwence. "Three days to verify his story seems reasonable."
"Perfectly reasonable," agreed Rwence, "if you hadn't already verified it. But since you already know everything you're likely to know about that, and he knows it, it stops being reasonable and slides into reactionary."
"There is some truth to that," the Emir admitted. "But the problem is that I don't know who was behind Mandallazaor. There's a conspiracy -- don't pretend there isn't -- and one that has managed to take action, effective action, without my even suspecting it. Under the circumstances, I am not inclined to be trusting of suspicious incidents, and two assassins in my city is about as suspicious as anything gets!"
"You've tried to confirm your suspicions," Rwence said.
"Repeatedly!"
"And come up with nothing," Rwence continued. "Which suggests there is nothing, after all."
"He might just be that good," the Emir said.
The white gnoll nodded. "Well, suppose he is that good. Let's just assume it, for the sake of argument, Grandmother. Would someone that good be wearing that bracelet, waiting for you to make a decision on whether to turn him over to a bounty hunter?"
It was the Emir's turn to think, and she did so while pacing, occasionally muttering to herself for a long five minutes before she finally shook her head. "Probably not." She turned and paced a bit more. "He's not part of the conspiracy," sighed the Emir. "Which means I should have my investigators on more promising questions." She turned and looked at me distrustfully. "I'm still not sure I want him here, Rwence. He's an assassin, and I'm not sure you realize just how deadly an assassin is. He's not trained to fight -- he's trained to kill. There's a big difference."
Rwence didn't look like he really believed that, so I said, "Yes. That is true." Rwenthelethance shot me a strange look, and then turned back to the Emir, and I think he was going to say something, but I didn't give him the chance. "Incandescence, I'm here because I fuh -- screwed up a job in Cumbermoon, so severely, that I doubt I'm ever going to be able to return to Russalka. I'm a hired sword, and I've been hired, and I'm not going to turn my back on my employer. I don't do that. If you banish me from Zhaskur, I'll go. But I have no other motives, and until -- unless -- that happens, I'll serve Rwenthelethance to the best of my ability." I paused, and then added, "For as long as our contract runs, anyway."
She looked at me coldly.
"Grandmother," said Rwence, softly.
"Yes?"
"I've made my decision. I would request you either support it or oppose it, but this ambivalence is unhelpful."
The Emir started to say something, and then paused. "Rwence. I agree with your reasoning, but if you could just give me a few days, to let things resolve..."
The silver gnoll shook his head. "No. That resolution might be exactly why I hired Mark in the first place. And at that point it will be too late. I need a dependable guard, one who won't keel over dead when -- when, Grandmother, not if, -- you're deposed."
"You think it's about to happen?" Rwence had her full attention, and mine, and even Liarn was staring up from the floor where he was still laying.
"Honestly, no," Rwence said, "but then, why would I? By definition, succession is going to take you -- and me -- by surprise. I just want to be safe when it does. And for that ... I need Mark. And it would be useful if I held some of my own guard, as well."
"I know," sighed the Emir. "But it's a dangerous precedent."
"A precedent for an Incandescent to hold hobgoblins, rather than just the Emir, might insert some rationality into our politics," Rwence said. "It is a loosening of the Emir's control, I admit, but maybe this is something worth delegating."
The Emir sighed. "I'll consider the hobgoblins. I'll think about that. As for your human... Mark, give me your hand," and she snapped the bracelet off. "There."
"You won't be sorry," I said.
The Emir gave me a long searching stare, but all she said was, "What a peculiar expression," as she handed the bracelet to one of her guards.
"Grandmother, if you're taking the bracelet off, and you've decided not to fight my keeping him --" the Emir snorted "-- then you must have decided what to do about this bounty hunter."
She nodded. "You want him, I don't think he's dangerous, so ... you can have him. But there are some larger issues."
Rwence shrugged. "That's your problem."
"Ah," I said. "It's our problem."
"No," the Emir interrupted me coldly. "It is my problem. It has nothing to do with harem, therefore it is completely outside the responsibility of either you or Rwence." She fixed me with an intent gaze. "Make sure he understands where harem ends. He is not to act outside of that sphere."
"I will," Rwenthelethance said. "But we hadn't gotten there yet. I didn't realize it would come up so soon."
The Emir considered that, and then nodded. "It has, though, with that stupid cook and now this bounty business."
"The matter of the undercook is harem," Rwence said.
"No," the Emir said again, almost mildly. "You want to deal with that, open your own kitchen back up."
"For me and Mark?" Rwence made a face. "That's absurd. It's ... it's much simpler if we eat from the main kitchen."
"Much simpler," the Emir agreed, "but that doesn't make my kitchen harem."
"Probably better that way anyway," sighed Rwence.
"Almost certainly," the Emir said. "So ... I might have a contract, a short agreement between me and Arkadia, for you to draw on short notice. Three pages, at the most. Will you have a few hours free?"
"Uh ..." Rwence said, thinking. "I ... yes. I can have it done by noon if I know before dawn, for the next five days. But I do have a longer contract coming up."
"I expect to have the superfluous human bounty huntress dealt with by then."
Rwence nodded. "Good."
"Then will you be attending the Evening Court?"
"I hadn't planned to," Rwence said cautiously. "Ought I?"
The Emir shrugged. "There's nothing that concerns you there. But I was thinking of marking the Long Pool off as harem."
"That would be ... inconvenient," Rwence said.
"Yes," said the Emir with a smile. "Exactly. Perhaps if you could make a short visit, and then retire?"
"I'll be fashionably late," Rwence said. "There won't be any harem business, though?"
"I have none planned," the Emir said.
"And none will happen?"
The Emir nodded. "Ah. You have just added a quite intriguing male to my harem, after all. There may be a challenge. I was thinking if you were both there, anything could be ... resolved quickly."
"He's human," Rwenthelethance objected.
The Emir smiled. "Indeed. Quite a virile one, too," she said with a smirk.
"That's not why I hired him!" Rwence said. "Why would anyone challenge for a human?"
"Rwence," the Emir said, "there are several human males in a number of harems." She gave me a smile that I didn't like at all. "They're hardy, resilient, muscular, and that hairless skin is a pleasure to lie with. "So temptingly thin. One can actually see the blood pulsing under it. And this one is hired sword, a mercenary who beat down the Emir's armsmaster herself, and even -- so rumor whispers -- caught the eye of the Emir."
"Is that what it was?" I said.
The smile vanished. "I suggest," she said, in a cold, cold voice, "you consider it a mark of my favor. A black mark of favor."
"It was," I agreed quickly. "That was churlish of me. I regret it, and ask you to overlook it. I ... I didn't understand the honor you deigned to show me."
"Oh, I think you did," the Emir said. "Bring your weapons to the Court, Black Mark. I suspect someone will challenge me for Rwenthelethance tonight. When he had no champion, tradition allowed me to provide one."
"Incandescence," I said, carefully using her title. "There's a protocol to this?"
"Oh yes," she said. "Rwence hasn't explained it?"
"There ... hasn't been an opportunity," my employer said, almost mumbling.
"If he were under arrest, the matter wouldn't have come up," the Emir observed. "But ... yes. Any of the nobles can declare a challenge to have a day with him. Once a challenge comes up, I open the challenge generally, and anybody who wants to can challenge for him. But there can be only one challenger, and one challenge, and all who want him must settle the matter themselves." She smiled. "It can get bloody. The winner may then pit herself against Rwence's Champion -- you. If she wins, she has rights to Rwence. If she loses, you have rights to her."
"You mean I have to ..."
"You don't have to!" Rwence said quickly.
"I don't?" I said.
I must have sounded too hopeful, because that drew a toothy smile from the Emir. "Certainly you don't have to. You are free to deliver as humiliating an insult as you wish."
Oh. "But it's an insult if I don't ..."
"Fuck the challenger?" the Emir finished for me. "Oh, yes. Do remember that whomever you defeat will have beaten several other challengers intent to keep her from Rwence, even if they don't want him personally."
"It's not ..." started Rwence, but the Emir cut him off.
"Traditionally, you'd do it in the challenge course," the Emir continued. "In full view of the Court. And you will do it, Mark, if you win."
"Not a ... side room?"
"There are a number of privileges that come with the title Emir," she said.
"Right. And ... if I lose?"
"I don't think Rwence would like it if you lost," said the Emir distantly. "Let's not lose sight of what the challenge is for, after all."
"Grandmother, that can't be..."
"You're the one who hired him."
"But nobody's ever had to do that!"
"Not recently, no," the Emir said, with a faint smile. "Nice, biddable boys leave such matters up to their bloodline matriarch." She smiled again. "After all, I might have chosen to answer the challenge myself."
"But ..." I said. "I'm sorry, I just want to understand. If you chose a champion, presumably it would be a she, right?"
The Emir looked at me. "Yes. And if she won, she'd fuck the loser, or, if she wanted, she'd choose one of the challenger's blood as forfeit, if she wanted. Or not. That wouldn't give insult."
I blinked, and hazarded, "A male from the challenger's harem, if she had one." I wanted to be sure I understood this right.
"Yes."
Joy. "I couldn't ask for that?"
"No," said the Emir. "You couldn't."
"Fine," I said. "If I win, I have to fuck the loser, I get it." I paused. "Wait. What if I kill the challenger?"
"Oh, then you don't have to fuck her," the Emir said. "But ... you do have to accept surrender. And she has to accept yours."
"What if she kills me?"
"Ah," said the Emir. "This ..." she pauses. "Of course. I'm assuming you're familiar with our challenges, and of course you're not. If she kills you without allowing a chance to surrender, or ignores your surrender, she has violated my law. The converse is also true, of course."
"I wouldn't dream of breaking your law, Incandescence."
"You're welcome to dream," the Emir said dismissively. "All I care about is action."
"Yes, Incandescence."
"Then be prepared," the Emir said, and she turned to leave. "Liarn," she said, and the still-prostrate gnoll rose into a crouch.
"Grandmother," interrupted Rwence.
"Yes?"
"Might you consider transferring Liarndesmandes to the harem?"
The Emir paused. "May I have him when I need him? That would be often," she added. "He's invaluable to me."
"I know, Grandmother."
"I'll consider it. Liarn, come."
"Yes, Incandescence," the little gnoll whispered, and got up and followed her out -- but he turned at the last moment, and gave Rwenthelethance a quick, tiny, bow.
I watched them go, and turned to Rwence. "What... what was that?"
"Liarn..." and Rwenthelethance was quiet for a moment. "I should have said something earlier."
"Uh..."
"Not to you, to my grandmother," Rwence said. "We should go get ready for the Court. About Liarn. I explained how, even though you and I are owned, we're not slaves, remember?"
"Yes," I said, following Rwence out of the Dowager Court. That hadn't been a good conversation, but then, gnolls apparently look at these things differently than humans. Much differently. If I'd understood Rwence correctly, only the highblooded matriarchs weren't owned; everyone else owed them something between fealty and absolute obedience.
"Liarn is," said Rwence. "He's... he's sideborn, and without any redeeming characteristics. Small." Rwence frowned. "The vulgar term is runt. Unfortunately colored. Ordinarily, someone like Liarndesmandes would hardly warrant any attention; he'd spend his life as someone's drudge. Nearly did, except that Ressiscalladian took an interest in his oddly limited magic, and suggested the Emir examine him."
"I ..." I paused. "I understand, he's ... ah, I'm not sure what sideborn means, but I guess it's like lowborn?"
"It's..." Rwence thought for a moment. "His mother did not acknowledge him. He was sold soon after birth. Therefore he has no bloodline at all."
"But you know who his mother is?"
"No," said Rwence patiently. "Nobody does. That's what sideborn means. His mother surrendered him to the markets. He was sold, and resold, probably several times, until he was tested for magical aptitude. That brought him to the Emir's attention, of course, especially when he was so promising..." Rwence sighed. "It's kind of sad."
"Why?"
Rwenthelethance shook his head. "If he'd been a miragesmith, he'd have been freed, it wouldn't matter that he was sideborn ... but they sunk him; he's talented, clever, and he knows more about mirages than anyone ... but he just doesn't have the reach."
"Uh," I said. "Rwence, what do miragesmiths do that Liarn can't?"
"Cloak, ah, larger things. Create a mirage to cover something. Like a patrol, or even an army." The silver gnoll thought for a moment. "Or a ship. The Emir's navy..."
"Oh," I said, suddenly imaging effectively invisible ships patrolling the straits. "I see why the Emir's navy has it's reputation."
"Not entirely," said Rwence. "In addition to cloaking, a miragesmith can show images of anything within his reach. And most miragesmiths have a reach of fifty miles or so. At their narrowest, the straits are only a hundred miles wide.
"That would be ... effective," I said. "But Liarn can't do that?"
"No," said Rwence with a shake of his head. "Liarn has no reach at all, and the mirages he creates are ... well, off. A miragesmith steal the appearance of something else and moves it; Liarn ... practically invents new images and appearances. Like ... making you smell like you as a gnoll. Very clever, not something I've ever seen any other miragesmith do, but ... what do you use it for? And Liarn has to be right there, practically touching you to do it."
"That's ..." I paused. "How long does it last?"
Rwence nodded. "Not long. It's still deception magic, and truth and time wear that thin, all by itself. A good mirage, though, can last for days, maybe even a couple of weeks before it has to be renewed, if it's not moving anywhere. Liarn's constructions don't even last that. A day, maybe, for something simple, and hours for more complex workings. They're clever, and they amuse the Emir, but ... really, they're just not very useful."
I thought about that while we walked back. Maybe Rwence couldn't think of anything to do with Liarn's magic, but I could. Invent new images? Could he... oh, make me invisible? Make me look bigger, smaller... different, so that I looked like a gnoll? Like Arkadia? What were his limits? The possibilities were endless... and Rwence described it as just not very useful? Maybe not to Rwence, but I wanted to have a long talk with Liarndesmandes, assuming I survived the upcoming Evening Court.
We had a quick breakfast, something more substantial broth, that was undoubtedly gnollish. Apricot stew, which turned out to be thick paste of apricots and meat cooked down into a mush (albeit a flavorable and delicious mush), served on quarter-inch thick slabs of what Rwence called bread and I would call hardtack. Fortunately the clear broth that gnolls called tea worked just like the real stuff to make the hardtack soft enough to eat, and even gave it some flavor.
Rwence was concentrating on eating, and the hobgoblins had arrayed around us, Dalt standing directly behind Rwence, and Thod behind me.
"I'm sorry, Mark," the gnoll said finally, after crunching through his breakfast. "I didn't think it would work out like this. I thought ... I don't know what I thought. Maybe I didn't think about it."
"It's fine," I said. "Rwence, I'm a duellist. I make my living with my sword. I do this a lot; it's a new situation, and it's normal for the new guy to be tested. That's all this is, and the sooner it's over with, the better. Things will settle down after I show that I'm not a pushover."
He looked up at me. "You're ... not mad?"
"No," I said, with a smile. "In my line of work, angry is weakness. Stuff happens. Lots of stuff happens. Besides, you pay well. And from what the Emir said, whoever I'm facing will have already gone through a couple of bouts; she'll be tired, and I'll be fresh. I'll go through her like the Emir went through me."
"Like the Emir..." said Rwence, and then he paused. "Oh! Dalt, didn't the Emir say she was declaring part of the Opal Gardens harem?"
"Yes, Incandescence."
"I..." said Rwenthelethance. "She did. And we still have ... what, an hour? Two hours?"
"The Court opens in ... just under an hour and a quarter, Incandescence," Dalt said. "Do you wish to be there before the Court opens?"
"Yes," said Rwence, with a glance at me. "Let it be ... screened off. I want to get there before the court opens. That way, I don't have to make an appearance. We don't have to, I mean."
"Yes, Incandescence," Dalt said, and then added, "Shall I have refreshments laid, as well?"
Rwence jerked, and looked over at me. "Ah ..."
"What am I missing?" I asked.
"Refreshments are for guests," Rwence said. "She's asking if ..."
"Sure," I said, nodding. "We won't need 'em, but go ahead. And maybe some munchies for us, too. Some of that, ah, pre-dawn flavored water stuff."
"It will be done, Luminance," Dalt said, bowing.
I supposed I'd expected plants in something called the Opal Gardens. I don't know what I expected. In Russalka, I suppose I'd have expected raised beds of flowers, maybe some kind of hedge maze. Stone benches. Maybe a fountain.
I'd gotten the plants right, at least. And it even had a fountain ... sort of. Rwence called it a rain fountain; water dripped from silvery spikes set on the ceiling nearly a hundred feet up, all the way down to a shallow pool filled with decorative Vulpa carp -- koi, they were called koi. I'd seen them before in Russalka, but only three small ones, a gift from some ambassador to the Archduke of Karachay. Those had been mostly white with tiny red splotches of color. The Emir's koi were nearly three, maybe four time as large, maybe a foot to a foot and a half long, and colored bright red and gold.
The chamber itself had terraces -- eight of them. The two bottom terraces, and the area around the koi pool, would be harem tonight, and a team of hobgoblins were putting up the fine gauze that set the harem areas off. Rwence and I were sitting on the second terrace surrounded by long beds of small, almost drab brownish flowers that nevertheless had a powerful spicy perfume -- like freshly crushed cloves and pepper, I thought.
"You might want to inspect the pond area, Luminance," Thod suggested politely.
I might? "Why?"
"If there's a challenge, Luminance, it will be fought there," Thod said quietly. "We will lift the screen, so that all may view the challenge."
Ah. "Yes. Thank you, Thod." I jumped down the stairs, and took a careful look around. It didn't seem like an ideal location for a duel, not with water dripping down onto the pond, but the area around the pond was dry, tiled with rough stone. Good footing, decent ground -- but it would favor a stronger gnoll over me. The pond itself was flush against the flooring; no wall or boundary, just ... water. About three feet deep. No tricks to be had there. In the center, there was a disturbingly graceless statue of one of the Vulpa carp, nearly four feet long and three feet high. But the stone was rough, not polished, as if the sculptor hadn't finished the scales. Even the fins seemed ... stilted. Held wrong. Even worse was the gold-leaf applied over the back fin and the belly. It could have been tasteful, even realistic -- but it just looked ... misapplied. Slapped on.
Ugly. I just wanted to look away from the thing. The rest of the pool was a contrast; the lip of the pool was blue slate that edged seamlessly into the slate floor. Under the water, there were a number of statues, far more graceful that the Awkward Koi, a couple of silvery gray frogs on green fronds. Stonework, all motionless statues, with the koi sliding through the dark water like bejeweled shadows. Lots of places to trip over decoration -- do not fight in water, check, although it was only a foot or so deep. Yes. No footwork in the water; that would favor a stronger gnoll over me. Still.
"Shame to get blood all over this," I said to Thod, who had come down with me. "It's ... odd. You really can't see the art in the pool unless you're right here."
"That is so, Luminance, but the pool can be lit and then everything is clearly visible," Thod said.
I nodded. "You really have to call me Luminance?"
"Yes, Luminance. I really do." She paused. "I don't understand why it would disturb you, though. You are the Attendant on the Incandescence, a luminary -- the only luminary -- of his court."
His court. Of course.
"The Incandescence outranks ... everyone except the Emir, then?"
"Yes, Luminance."
"And as the first and only, ah, luminary of his court ... what exactly is my rank?"
Thod blinked, as if she hadn't considered that. Which was entirely fair, since as up to about a minute ago, I hadn't really considered it either. "I'm ... not entirely sure, Luminance," she said finally. "But you certainly should be addressed as Luminance by anyone other than the Emir or the Incandescence himself."
"And if I'm not?"
"It is an insult to you, and to the Incandescence. The Incandescence may challenge anyone who furnishes such an insult to his court."
"And that hypothetical person would then face me?"
"Yes, Luminance," Thod said.
"Since the insult is to me," I said slowly, "then can I challenge? Without Rwence's permission?"
Thod thought for a moment. "I ... forgive me, Luminance, but I am not sure ..." she bowed again, and walked quickly over to Dalt, and whispered something to her. Dalt looked up, and then looked at me, and came over herself.
"You would petition the Incandescence for redress. The Incandescence would issue the challenge -- or decline to," Dalt said.
"What challenge?" asked Rwence, looking somewhat startled at Dalt's declaration.
"A hypothetical question, Incandescence, concerning how the Luminance might resolve a perceived insult to himself or to you."
"Nobody's insulted me," I added quickly. "Or you. I was just trying to understand how ... how all of this fits together."
"Oh?"
"Do you have any role in the government?"
"No," said Rwence, even as Dalt said, "Yes, Luminance."
They turned to look at each other quizzically.
"I don't," said Rwence. "I'm in charge of the harem, not the city."
"The Zhaskur harem," said Dalt.
"Yes, so?" asked Rwence.
"You determine whom may enter the harem."
Rwence nodded. "That's true ... but I hardly see ..."
"Incandescence, your Grandmother is Zhaskur because your great-great grandfather admitted her to the harem."
"Yes..." said Rwence.
"And whoever succeeds her must petition you to enter the harem as well, Incandescence."
"Yes..." agreed Rwence. "But that ..."
"It is unlikely a single challenger will have a clear claim to the Goblin Throne, Incandescence. There will probably be three or four. At that point, the one you choose will be Emir. And the others will be executed. If, of course, you are permitted to make the choice freely rather than as a hostage of one of the contenders -- which is why you hired Mark, is it not?"
"I ... didn't think of it that way," Rwence said. "I just didn't want to be, well, at the mercy of whoever grabbed me."
"And yet, Incandescence, if you are not at their mercy, then they are at yours, if they would have the privilege of Zhaskur."
"I ... I think I like that thought," Rwence said after a moment. "Quite a bit."
"All right, Rwence -- if he can stay out of the hands of his aunts -- picks the next Emir?"
"From among the strongest challengers, Luminance, yes."
That ... seemed odd. "They just agree to abide by his decision?"
"Hardly, Luminance," Dalt said, even as Rwence snorted. The hobgoblin continued. "But the top challengers will be, if not perfectly equally matched, then close -- so close at to make the matter uncertain. The addition of Incandescence Rwenthelance's magic alone might tip the balance, for he is one of the strongest magic-handlers in the city, but this city has been in Zhaskur control since its founding. All of the wards and protections answer to the Incandescence of Zhaskur -- the Emir and Rwenthelance."
"The city ..."
"The walls and streets and even the buildings are reinforced with calligramancy," Rwence said. "The city speaks to the Emir. Simply being in the city reveals things to her ... she knew you were an assassin the moment she saw you. Like how she figured out that bounty hunter -- Arcadia, that twice-risen concealed the truth of baker."
"That's how she figured it out?"
Rwence tapped his fingers on the stone call. "I think so. It seemed obvious to me once she pointed it out, and Grandmother's purview includes mine."
Includes ... "Yours? You can do this, too?"
"Only for harem matters, but ... yes," admitted Rwenthelance after a moment. "It's ... something of a secret, that we can do that. Most clans focus on the more obvious things."
"More obvious?"
"Of course. The Emir is well over ninety," Rwence said. "But she's still the fastest, strongest warrior in the city -- that's because she's the Incandescence of Zhaskur. She can draw on the strength and speed and skill of every warrior in the city."
"I never had a chance against her," I realized.
"'Course not," Rwence said. "She's the Emir."
"What else?"
"Ah ..." said Rwence. "There are doors and passages -- goblinwork, mostly -- that only respond to the Incandescence. The gates on the upper city, and many of the gates inside the city, will lock shut at our command. The docks ... I'm not sure what we can do there, she's never said, and I've never gone to the lower city to see. There are some wards in the city buildings, to shield troops loyal to Zhaskur, and expose those who fight us. The main boulevards, in the city, are warded to give Zhaskur loyalists firm footing, and uneven ground to those who oppose us." He gave me a little smile. "I even saw some wards that deny those hunting loyalists an understanding of the way the back-streets connect. And I know there are Zhaskur wards out in the straits themselves, although I don't know what they say." Rwence paused for a moment. "There might be some wards that give you an advantage, out in the city. There are a number of them inside the harem, but ... they aren't very useful."
"Why not?"
"The wards that empower the Emir draw on the warriors sworn to the city," Rwence said. "In a sense, they pledge their strength to her -- giving her every right to draw upon it. There are some similar harem wards, but ... you're the only warrior sworn to the harem."
"Wouldn't that, ah, empower you?" I asked.
"I'm not a warrior, I'm represented by my champion," Rwence said. "That used to be my Grandmother. Now it's you. But there aren't any warriors sworn to me for you to draw from--"
Oh. Well, it was a nice fantasy for the half-second it lasted.
"--and that's one of the reasons I was hoping to convince Grandmother to let me hold some hobgoblins. They'd be sworn to me, and then there would be an advantage."
I filed that thought away for future reference. "I see. But all of these advantages go away if the city falls to another clan."
"Yes," said Rwence.
That connected with something Dalt had said earlier. "So these wards are why the gnolls can keep the orcs out, and the goblins can't?"
"Uh ..." said Rwence.
"No, Luminance. We gain a significant benefit from these magics, but that is not the key," Dalt said.
"What is, then?"
Dalt glanced at Rwence, and the gnoll gave a mystified nod. "Teamwork, Luminance," said Dalt. "Goblin clans never work together, and even within a clan, each fleshcrafter retains control of his own warpuppets. His goal is to emerge from the conflict as the dominant fleshcrafter -- not to defeat orcs. Instead, in Zhaskur, all warpuppets are held by the Emir, and deployed in a coherent way with the primary goal the defeat of the enemy. If the goblins could manage to cooperate -- they, too, could turn back the orcs." Dalt paused. "Although ... our gnoll owners have made a point to conceal this from the goblins, they may know it, too. I think they are simply unable to cooperate, even knowing that their clans are at stake."
"It just seems hard to believe that goblins are that ..." I paused, not sure what the right word was.
"Short-sighted? Self-indulgent? Self-absorbed? Selfish?" asked Dalt. "Luminance, to the best of my knowledge, they are. Although much of what I know of goblin culture was placed in my mind when I was poured, it is consistent with every goblin interaction I have witnessed or had. They do not trust even their blood-siblings, children, or parents. Even flesh-sibs are wary of each other."
"Flesh-sibs?"
"Some goblins engage fleshcrafters to create goblins that are themselves, to copy themselves in flesh, if not mind, Luminance." Dalt said. "But they mistrust one another, because a fleshcrafter can use the body and parts of a younger flesh-sib to replace the parts of an older one, thus extending its life. Every created flesh-sib must wonder if its sibling-parent intends to cannibalize it."
My expression must have shown just how repulsive I found that.
"Yes, well, goblins," said Rwence.
"I see why you have carefully written contracts with them," I said finally.
"Oh my yes! They are exceedingly difficult to deal with. Most people just want ... to get something out of a bargain. But a goblin isn't happy unless it's cheated you as well as gotten what it's wanted. In fact, some goblins are happy enough to make a bargain strictly so they can cheat you. They don't care about the bargain; they care about cheating you."
"That sounds ..."
"Luminance, the Incandescence is correct," Dalt said. "Please believe him."
I nodded. "But that doesn't apply to you?"
"Luminance, we hobgoblins are ... of goblin manufacture," said Dalt. "But no, in that sense, we are not goblins. We exist to please our owners and masters; we have no other purpose, function, or desire. Although we can be rewarded or punished, those things simply help us understand our master's desires." Dalt paused. "We are truly grateful those rewards, but we are not made so that they can motivate us."
"So without understanding empathy, they built it into you?"
"Luminance, goblins understand empathy. They consider it a useful quality for a slave, because it allows us to better serve them. Since goblins do not serve, they see no need of it themselves." Dalt paused. "Now that you mention it, Luminance, I wonder if perhaps they removed that quality from themselves at some point."
"They ... of course they can do that?" I said.
"They added it to us at the gnoll's request, Luminance, so I presume they could remove it from themselves." Dalt considered again. "If they ever had it. Would it take some level of empathy to remove it from one's offspring?"
"I think," Rwence said, "we'll never crack the marrow to this. They're goblins. I think we need to just leave it at that."
"Yes, Incandescence," said Dalt obediently. "I know you've eaten, but should I have refreshments laid?"
"Yes. For ... three," said Rwence. "No. Four. For four, please, Dalt."
Dalt glanced at Thod, who nodded, and padded off. "Yes, Incandescence."
"How long until the Court opens?"
"Perhaps ... an hour, Incandescence." Dalt looked around. "The harem area is set. Is there anything else you wish?"
"No, thank you, Dalt."
"Mark?" asked Rwence, almost hesitantly. "Can you tell me about Arkadia?"
I gritted my teeth, but ... he deserved to know. "Yeah," I said, taking a deep breath. "I used to work with her ..."