I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao

Copyright 2025 by Onyx Tao This work is licensed under an Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International Creative Commons License.

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Chapter 36 Conversations

The spire of the Patriarch’s Height rose a good hundred feet above the highest canyon walls of the Lycaili Maze, built of mage-worked stone and crystal. The top itself had been formed of dark amethyst, pillars and curved roof, but it lacked walls, leaving it open, and the view always delighted Teodor. Up here, he could feel the raw breezes. Distance muted the sounds of the city, and although the Roan minotaur could still feel the cacophony of emotions from below, the distance softened them, like the pleasant sounds of a peaceful seashore rather than the ongoing thundering rumble of a storm. He could relax the strict discipline of the shields he held around himself, and indulge in the tranquility of the moment.

As much tranquility as he could ever have, he supposed. The city – bulls and humans – waited below, reminding him that this fragile moment was just that: fragile. Illusory, even, since the quiet devotion of two of the Patriarch’s Guard shone gently behind him. Ross and Durance, Ebon and Pristine. A sort of experiment, after his talks with Prince Noroma. The Prince’s cautious reticence on the topic of bloodlines, on the very nature of Ebon and Pristine, had nevertheless led Teodor to a number of thoughts. Although the Prince would neither confirm nor deny the questions Teodor interposed in their casual conversations, his silences and pauses were … instructive, Teodor thought, and he wondered if they were intentional or not. Was Noroma carefully guiding him to conclusions, or accidentally revealing the depth of topics Teodor had never deeply pondered? Both? Perhaps he read too much into it?

Teodor couldn’t tell, and neither could Sasha. Something, clearly, was distressing the Prince and his closest attendants – the Herald, General Yas, a handful of the guards that accompanied the Prince everywhere, but not all of them. Sasha had offered to listen carefully – teetering on the very edge of acceptable behavior, but Teodor had asked him to refrain. The Prince and his advisors clearly had access to knowledge about mind-magic, knowledge that even the greater and lesser bloodlines that Teodor – that Lycaili, perhaps even the entire West – lacked. That knowledge informed their actions and words, and Teodor would let them reveal – or conceal – it as they pleased. At least the Prince had stopped whatever technique that blocked his mind. Noroma had been completely unreadable, silent and (Teodor privately admitted to himself) intimidating. Teodor had never really thought that he relied on his empathic senses to help him … but the Prince’s utter impassivity for the first few days after his arrival had been surprisingly revealing about Teodor’s own use of empathy, which the Patriarch found disconcerting.

Teodor had been using his empathy to read those around him, unknowingly, and the Prince’s ability to block it … well, the Prince had every right and reason to maintain his mental privacy, even if Teodor had been unaware of his casual violation of the minds around him. It had disturbed him at first, but after discussing it with Sasha and Ianthos, the other mind-mages of Lycaili, he found it … less so. We are sighted where others are blind, Ianthos had said. We cannot help that. They cannot help that. We must simply take care not to abuse it. It is hardly as if they are unaware – we are known mind-mages, are we not?

Teodor felt the truth of that, but also, the truth that those around him were not mind-mages, and so could not know they were naked to his gaze. Or, rather, how naked they were to his gaze. And they were positively shrouded to him, compared to Sasha’s far stronger gifts. Asking Prince Noroma to his family dinner, however, had garnered a surprising level of trust, in that the Prince had dropped the absolute shield he’d held. The Prince was still quiet – pleasantly so, in Teodor’s opinion – but no longer barricaded.

That unspoken offer of trust had gratified Teodor, and Teodor had, since then, gone out of his way to proffer his own tokens of regard. After consultation with General Un, rather than invite the Prince to Teodor’s meals (since an invitation was a formal thing that implied acceptance or rejection), Teodor had General Un inform Herald Kadira (who served the Prince as Master of Protocol) that his dining-room was always open to the Prince, should he find it convenient to eat with the Patriarch and his family.

Prince Noroma did not abuse the privilege, choosing to arrive only for the occasional evening meal (and kindly allowing Teodor’s staff notice, which in turn was relayed to General Zachiah, and from Teodor’s secretary, to Teodor). A roundabout sort of arrangement, but it worked, and more importantly, placed no diplomatic hurdles between them. Teodor tried to keep the conversation light, as he had no wish to ambush the Prince with business, and the Imperial Heir proved equally circumspect.

Nevertheless, it was an intrusion into Patriarch Teodor’s limited private time, and Teodor felt it. Noroma’s intrusion would cease when the Imperial Heir returned to Nippon. However, if Teodor accepted Prince Lyo as consort, if Prince Lyo accepted Teodor, then … then Lyo would forever be a part of that most intimate part of Teodor’s life. Friends and family. Standing here, looking out over the city, above the tangles of lives below, he had to ask himself: Is that a sacrifice I can make? And, how much of a sacrifice would it be? Do I owe Lycaili yet more of myself? Can I give more of myself away, and still be me_?_ Not, should I make this sacrifice – or not just that, but perhaps more importantly, dare I do this? Teodor knew he had an absolute duty to his clan – he’d accepted that from the moment Xavien had blindsided him with this … unlooked for, and even unwanted, elevation. But Teodor had to be himself to fulfill that duty. Had to be present, a duty his Guard traded on mercilessly to ensure his safety. Teodor was a mage, talented and powerful in both the physical and mental realms, and very little truly threatened him.

Lurking ninja, he supposed. These Scyllan brigands seemed to have no end of violated children to throw at him. But why? Surely, their actions must make some kind of sense to them, must reflect some purpose, some motive, some desire … but Teodor, supposedly the ingenious, brilliant Roan meant to save Lycaili, had no idea. None at all. It seemed like they struck out randomly at him, at his family, at his clan, and the harder he looked for the connecting threads to tease out their intent – the murkier their motives became.

Fact. The first attack followed the first invasion of Mog Ford. Dacien’s remarkable gifts had not yet manifested. Dacien, then, was not a contributing factor. Probably, but … no, anyone with sufficient prescience to foresee Dacien would have been unlikely to execute such an incompetent attack. Might the failure, though, have been unintentional? That the attack succeeded in its attempts? But then, why the attack on Cresphontes later? No.

Fact. The first attack focused on myself, Xavien, and … that wolven. Talosh. Xavien and Teodor were both talented mages, and Talosh was known for his mental skills, too. Could that be the connection? But … Teodor remembered, then, that Xavien had several of the war-spells at House Green. Might they have been after the war-spells? It might seem as if he – Teodor – and Mistingrise might serve as warden for those spells, too, even though Cresphontes had not chosen Teodor as a guardian. But if they were after war-magic, why target Talosh? Might Talosh have known something? Seen something? As a mentalist? Maybe. It could not be ruled out. Or … perhaps they thought Talosh might know where the spells were hidden? If something had happened to Xavien, then they might have stolen them? Or simply delayed Lycaili’s access to them? Perhaps a reaction to the human innovation of war-magic? But … wouldn’t it have made more sense to go after Ouroborous’ spells? They were the ones who suffered the greatest loss. But the territory where it happened was Lycaili.

Might they have been attempting to retrieve Dapple? Now, that seemed … plausible. Talosh might well have been asked to examine Dapple. Almost certainly, Teodor would have consulted Talosh. Could that be why the wolven had been targeted? That poor Talosh might have worked with Dapple? But that meant Kanail might be threatened, if the relationship became more widely known.

Teodor reached out to General Zachiah. Zachiah, I have been thinking, and I wonder if Kanail might be a target. I want him guarded, no less than any of the other mages.

What? Why?

I am wondering if perhaps the true target of that first attack was not Xe, or myself, but Dapple. He is quite the mystery. He is as protected as I am, and perhaps more so, given his own abilities, but, if so, Kanail might be a target, and a more inviting one – for anyone stupid enough to take on a Grandmaster. Can you arrange something? I will not set another Grandmaster on him, but … I know he has students. Arrange for at least five master-level guards for him.

That stretches us thin, Teodor.

Then consolidate his protection with another’s.

As you wish. Teodor nodded to himself, and set the diversion aside.

Fact. Sasha, Polychrome, found no evidence of similar attacks, or mysterious disappearances. So, something must have triggered this change of behavior? Human war-magic? That potentially connected with the first attack, as well. Could these Scyllans be after war-magics? But surely nobody had better knowledge than they of how … disastrous invoking them would be? Or perhaps they know something about war-magics that we do not? More possibilities. Research the war-spells more closely, obviously, to see if there were any more connections. Perhaps Noroma might know something.

Sasha? He sent, but the brown had already left for Mog Ford. Maybe Polychrome could make something of the human’s ridiculous stories about …

About raids, his mind prompted him. About raids with no witnesses.

“Oh, I am an idiot,” Teodor muttered to himself.

That drew the attention of his Pristine guard, Durance. “My Lord?”

“Your Lord is an idiot,” Teodor called back.

“I would demand anyone else saying such a thing to draw a circle immediately, Lord Teodor,” Ross said, his clear diction seeming impossibly loud after the long silence. “But I will content myself with insisting you are mistaken.”

“My Lord,” Durance said, “You have moments of clarity and brilliance, you ascend to the veritable heights of insight, but even you, My Lord, must clamber up them. And perhaps these heights … are too far to jump from one to the other? Might I dare suggest that, standing on such a height, you cast your eyes on a peak yet further and higher, and castigate yourself for troubling with the current mountain?”

Teodor snorted. “You are kind,” and then he smiled. “And poetic.”

Durance smiled briefly in return.

Zachiah. Do you know how long ago Sasha left?

He set out with his Guard early this morning.

Teodor briefly explained his suspicion about the mysterious raids in human territory to the General. And now, I want nothing more than a long discussion with the human – Phricus.

Phrixus. The Imperial Plenipotentiary is Phrixus.

Then Phrixus, sent Teodor. Nestor is with Sasha, yes?

The human? I suppose, but I cannot say with certainty.

Set all ordinary business aside. I wish to be in Mog Ford at the earliest possible moment.

A pause. I shall do so. But what of the Nipponese?

Tell them as little as possible. I forbid their passage to Mog Ford in any case. I cannot guarantee their safety, and I will not take chances with the Imperial Heir. What a disaster that would be!

Truth. I will … start. But you will not leave today, nor early tomorrow. Perhaps the day following. Perhaps.

I leave the miracles of scheduling in your hands, Zach. Have I mentioned how truly grateful I am for your patience and assistance?

The matter has come up once or twice. And, if I may be so bold, I am truly honored to serve you so.

Teodor withdrew, and reached for another mind. Ruus!

Master?

Reach for Sasha. Inform him that I will be joining him at Mog Ford … soon. Make certain he has Nestor with him, I want Nestor kept apart from the Imperials.

As you command, Master. May I tell him why?

Yes. I suspect a connection between the Scyllans and these alleged raids into human territory.

A pause. I suppose? But why?

That I do not know. But we have mysterious raids without witnesses on one hand, and mysterious raiders on the other, and I cannot imagine why I did not connect them earlier.

Why would they raid humans_?_

My very question, Ruus, I have no idea. The endeavor seems pointless and cruel. But I intend to explore the mystery thoroughly_._

With all due respect, Master, that is rightly a task for Polychrome, not you, and – much as I love him – certainly not Sasha.

Teodor suppressed a short laugh. I have, perhaps, a better opinion of Sasha than you do, but never mind. I shall set Polychrome on that trail as well.

You should not leave Maze, Master, Ruus thought to him, concern leaking into his mental voice. You have already done so once for these humans. I know you have asked us not to compare you to Cresphontes – but please consider your predecessors’ wisdom on this. They left Maze only for the most serious of reasons!

Teodor’s face tightened, but he let none of his irritation through mentally. I cannot deny the weight of that. I may be unable to leave. Still, inform Sasha. Inform Randolph and Teovance. Inform them that I may be coming to Mog Ford, if I can set enough responsibilities in order.

Thank you, Teodor. I will do as you command, and with that, Teodor broke the connection, and tried to return to his previous thoughts. There was one other thing that bothered him … what was it? Ah.

Fact. The second attack – successful, alas – focused on Cresphontes, killed Lathe, and the ninja had taken pains to avoid Xe. So perhaps Xavien had only been a tertiary target in the first attack? Or they had considered Xe a threat? The first attack, then, had targeted himself, Talosh and potentially Dapple?

Fact. The third attack stole Dacien, Bryant and Kant. And all three of them had apparently survived, although mindbent. Had Dacien, then, been a target of the first attack? Had they mistaken Lathe for Dacien? Could … Dacien … have been the true target all along? But … what had they hoped to accomplish?

Fact. Ruus’ percipience had identified Dacien as important long _ before _ anything else had happened. Might that have influenced events?

Teodor reached out again. Ruus. Your percipience about Dacien. How tightly was your insight held? Who knew?

Teodor? Came a confused reply. Not many. The courier. Lord Cresphontes, of course. Polychrome. Yourself. Perhaps some of my guard? I did not treat it as a great secret, but then, I considered it a curiosity of low importance. If you wonder if some other intelligencers knew, then I would say they might have. But again, it concerned a human. Who would care?

Scyllans, perhaps, but Teodor didn’t send that along. You are hardly alone in that gift. I wonder if someone else might have seen something that triggered these events, or if it might have been a reaction to your insight.

Silence, and then, I do not know, Master.

How are your headaches?

Still present, although much improved, and still improving. I had intended to consult Xe, but …

Teodor nodded. Good thought. I am wondering if your percipience was deliberately attacked, to blind us.

Ruus sent nothing so much as puzzlement, and then, As an attack, it is unprecedented. Clear amusement came over the link, with Which unprecedentedness rather makes you a suspect, my friend. Unprecedented? Whose tracks might those be but yours?

No, Teodor sent back, rather more solemnly. Never intentionally, and I cannot think of anything I might have done to cause it.

Forgive my levity, and Russ sounded abashed.

Forgive? I welcome it, Teodor said. I am – regardless of the cause – pleased to hear you improve. If – and I do say if – there be a connection, it eludes me, but I will keep thinking about it. Thank you, Ruus, and he cut the link.

Fact. The Nipponese Emperor sent the Imperial Heir to offer me an Imperial consort. Who was even now on his way to Lycaili. But … why not just send the would-be consort? Why send two members of the Imperial Line all the way to the West? And … why not send them together, if they were to be sent at all? It seemed chaotic, disorderly, to Teodor’s mind. Wasteful, and not in the customary Imperial mode of ostentation.

Order, counter-order, disorder. Could that be what he was seeing? A sequence? A confusion of intents from multiple actors? Or … an entirely different effort with the same or similar goal? Was there some connection between the Imperial Court and the Scyllan remnant? Both of them after Dacien’s potential? No. Not working together as the Scyllans had possessed Dacien, if only for a time. An Imperial Consort to gain influence over Dacien would be … pointless, since Lycaili no longer had him. Still, if there were a second actor involved, with an intersecting agenda, two forces in some subtle contest?

That seemed overly complicated, though, and he had no candidates for that second party, either. And yet, there was that conversation with Nikohorus, in which Niko had spoken with some certainty about two, rather than merely one, unknown actors. Nikohorus had disclaimed any suspicions of who, but he had seemed certain they were seeing conflict between them. Clearly, one of them was Scylla, but … another? Was there enough confusion to justify thinking there was a second? Ambassador Corrigan had admitted that Ungoliant was aware of the Scyllans, might they be involved in some secretive conflict? No, of course they were – Xe had reported that Corrigan claimed they’d taken serious losses uncovering Scylla.

Un?

Teodor! Give me moment, please? A hundred heartbeats, no more?

Of course, and then Teodor waited.

How may I serve you?

Protocol question. How rude would it be to ask Noroma why they sent the would-be consort separately?

Extremely, General Un replied. Although I have wondered the same thing. But no, there is no polite way to ask after that. We’ll have to be creative … ah, they seem rather taken aback that you lacked a Master of Protocol before they arrived. I could ask Herald Kadira for help with the question, to determine if there is a proper way to inquire. There won’t be, of course, but I guarantee the concern would percolate up to His Imperial Highness.

Ingenious. Please do so. I will admit to becoming tired with the air of mystery they cultivate around the Imperial Court, and their refusal to answer questions about their own protocol. I wonder, General, if we could send an ambassador of our own to the Imperial Court. At the very least we could penetrate some of this irritating ineffability.

I’m sure Polychrome would welcome such a challenge.

I think Polychrome faces enough challenges here and now without setting up an entirely new network in the East, but, you are right. Please ask Zachiah to add that to our next funding discussion.

Oh, he’ll love that. It will have to be silent funding. General Ralp already hates you both.

Such is the life of a treasurer. What good are monies locked in a vault, gathering dust?

You can only spend it once_, according to Ralp. And he_ is charged with seeing to our liquidity. It is a concern. These past few months have been full of unexpected expensive surprises. We’ve diverted a huge number of senior bulls from their usual responsibilities, and that … will have effects, however we try to ameliorate them.

Have I been profligate, then?

A pause, and then, I do not think so, Master. Ralp may quibble over a few tens of thousands of suns here and there, but these are unusual circumstances. Has Ralp requested your time? Were he truly concerned, he would.

Would he, General? Previous Patriarchs have had such a deep understanding of their government that … I depend far more on my inferiors to bring matters to me. Teodor sighed. Please tell Zachiah to set up a briefing for me with Ralp, so I can understand these effects that diverting bulls will have.

You were unaware?

In short, yes. Please remember that I am not Learned in Jurisprudence, nor experienced in governing. I always left such matters to Ruus and Cresphontes, judging them out of my expertise, and, to be brutally clear, interest. I had not considered that I was diverting resource in such a way. I probably should have. When you say it, it seems obvious that it would be so, but … I had given it no attention. I told you I felt woefully unprepared for this, and … I still feel so.

I will speak with Zachiah and Ralp. Zach ought to be bringing this up with you, though. He probably assumes as you do. There is so much we take for granted, Master. Please continue hounding us and we will learn to serve you properly.

I do not fault your service. Only the served.

It is the task of those who serve to know how to do so, Master.

Exactly. I fear I do not know how to serve Lycaili.

Master, I know when I am overcome. I cannot win at this battle of words. So, then, Master, let me say bluntly that you are the Patriarch we need. We have generals, senior warlords, and Learned scholars, all of whom can manage these details. We have but one Teodor and his gifts of insight. However baffled and frustrated you are – I hear it in your words, Master – I promise you there is not one of us who could do better, and not-so-secretly, most of are certain we would do far worse, and I include myself in that assessment. I assure you, while you fear you produce insufficient miracles – the rest of us are in awe of the miracles you do produce.

Teodor was silent for a moment. I do beg your forbearance, and forgiveness, for casting my doubts on you. Nor do I question your – any of my ministers’ – service or ability.

It is our place, Master, to answer those doubts. I daresay no bull – aside from Xavien – has not at some point questioned his own capabilities.

Well, you are the second bull to express such a thought to me today, so I will defer to that wisdom. Thank you, General Un.

It is our task. And we are honored to serve you, Master.

I am more grateful than I can say, Teodor said, and let the link fail.

Teodor stood, looking out over the maze. He’d done what he could, and now he just needed to wait for Dacien, and Prince Lyo. Teodor understood why Osaze and Xavien had chosen to delay their return – he would admit it was the right decision, but he couldn’t help but wish they had returned instead. And … it was peaceful. Since nobody was demanding his time at the moment, Teodor felt content simply to stare out at the – his – city, lost in thought, turning over the questions again and again, trying not to fret, but simply order his thoughts, turn them over, consider them from different angles, trying to make the who, what, where, how, and when reflect some hints of the endlessly baffling why.

Teodor wasn’t certain how long he’d stood there before – Teodor? Can you hear me? Xavien’s voice surprised him.

“I can. Where are you?”

Just outside Ouroborous, coming in from Ungoliant through Mazada Pass. Yes. _ Five _ borders away. Even _ I _ am impressed.

“I thought your limit was three borders, when the borders cooperated.”

These borders are cooperating, I admit. I’ve been trying since we entered Ungoliant, in point of fact. I have a new lens, who is adorable, and something more than a lens. He actually _ extends _ my own powers, significantly, just by being present. The key seems to be matching signatures – his signature is, according to Dacien, exactly like mine, if weaker. Both of our magics are enhanced by the presence of the other. And there is something even more amazing.

“Amaze me, please.”

Dacien was involved only tangentially. Critically, of course – when is he not? – but Socks – my newest lens – existed and matched my signature _ before _ Dacien met him. I will admit our meeting might have been a disaster _ without _ Dacien, but … tangential.

“A disaster? What? This is intriguing, but … I am very ready for him to return. Did the mindbender damage him?”

The disaster was averted, and irrelevant for now, other than being another surprising story. Resonance issue, we can discuss that later. It seems the mind-bender mage was himself mindbent. Dacien and Bryant would not have escaped without his connivance. Both Dacien and Bryant show damage; I think only Sasha can say how reversible that damage is, but … given Timas’ – that would be the mind-bender’s name – assistance to them, the damage may well be less than it appears. But … Dacien has lost many, and perhaps most, of his memories. Something Sasha did preserved the _ information _ , but Dacien reports … a lack of emotional response, as if he’s read the events from a book, rather than lived them. Disquieting, and I was hoping to ask for Sasha to meet us. I’ve been trying to reach him, as well. I take it he’s on some jaunt?

“I sent him to Mog Ford,” Teodor said. “I am planning to go myself, but my advisors counsel against it.”

As Patriarch, you must be accessible at all times, Xavien said. Your advisors must know where you are, and be able to reach you quickly. Unless your presence there serves some vital purpose no other can, I, too, would urge against it. Besides, we should reach Lycaili Maze in another twelve hours, and … I would think you would want to see your son. What tempts you at Mog Ford? Have you not already dispatched Sasha? He is most formidable, despite the pains he takes to appear innocuous.

“I want to talk to the Imperial Ambassador – the human Imperium one, Phrixus – about the raids they accused us of. It occurred to me, finally, that those mysterious raids might be Scyllan.”

An intriguing thought! Xavien said, and paused for a moment of consideration. I grant they could be responsible, but any motive eludes me. Do these humans have some valuable resource? I cannot imagine feral humans being anything other than an inconvenience.

“Broodstock.”

WHAT? They … Is there _ no _ degeneracy or vileness these Scyllans will not embrace? Is that guesswork or do you have evidence? Although, now that you say it, I daresay I concur.

“Guesswork.”

Disgusting, but I put nothing past these villains. Ah. In that sense, I have a piece of news which must wait for delivery until I am present. Still. I can say that I dueled and killed Wolachya Alexander, and I relayed my suspicions that there may be more Scyllans hiding in Leviathan to Deth – Lord Horse. I don’t think you’ve met him. I do not think Leviathan is as compromised as we feared. As Iudas feared. Having met him, I think he is … overly cautious on the matter. Rightly so, I liked him very much, a fine and honorable bull, but he, too, has had bad experiences with vanishing family, and these events seem to have triggered a certain amount of paranoia. Still. I cannot fault his actions or honor. He and his cousin are fine bulls indeed.

“High praise, and I am pleased to hear it. We owe them a great deal.”

I agree, but they refuse repayment, and indeed, demanded permission to retire that debt as their payment. I could find no way to refuse; you will not, I trust, task me for being out-negotiated by a Guildmaster! Iudas and Dellios – the Guildmaster’s cousin – even claim they are in our debt for the compromise of Leviathan’s honor. A dubious proposition to my mind, but I respect them too much to argue. Iudas did beg a favor from us, though.

“What?”

Iudas asks for any information on the whereabouts of his vanished brother. I said I would lay the question before you, and you, if you were so moved, would see if Polychrome had any insight into the matter.

“Certainly, but … Polychrome is engaged in a number of missions, with more pressing on him. I must put Lycaili’s business first. This will have to wait for opportunity, but … I have no objection, and am delighted to have some way to show our gratitude.”

Xerxes – that would be Iudas’s missing older brother – vanished some eight decades ago. Tracelessly, according to Iudas, and under tragic circumstance. But another few weeks, or months, or even a year cannot make much difference at this point. I think that is all I have for you, and we are getting ready to resume travel. I won’t be reachable while we’re marching.

“A matched tempus march from Leviathan? With the Prince and his guard?”

Yes. All of them have the training. Even more impressively, we’re reaching nearly 7:2. I think _ all _ of them are master-level. Prince Lyo is clearly Grandmaster-level himself. Unfortunately I have not had a great deal of time to converse with His Serene Highness; we cannot do so when traveling, and we are stopping only as we must for food and rest. All I can really tell you about your would-be consort is that he’s a little lighter of pelt than his brother, and about the same height as the Herald. Well-spoken. Oh. And he gave me a botany book I’d never even heard of! On a subject I was ignorant of! Xavien’s tone took on a slightly accusing tone. The oceans are full of _ plants _ ! Did you know this?

“No,” said Teodor. “I did not know that. My own long-ago botanical interests were confined to pears specifically, and orchards generally. Nor do we possess a saltwater border. I suppose it makes sense that there be plants underwater, but I never gave the question consideration.”

Quite a variety of plants, according to this book. Lovely illustrations and diagrams. Third best thing I’ve encountered in the last year or so, right after Lathe and Socks.

“Socks?”

The lens I mentioned. He’s … well. You’ll see. Adorable. Will you remain in Maze to meet us?”

“It seems as if I must. But … I really wanted to talk to Phrixus about those raids.”

Are you not the Patriarch? Have Sasha bring him to Maze. Yes. Show these Imperial Humans what civilization is. It is right and proper that an ambassador come to you, not for you to attend on them!

“I … you seem in remarkably good spirits,” Teodor said.

Do I? I am! I have had time for introspection. And travel. And … conversation. With Osaze. Eo. Dellios. Bryant. Tumo. Even Deth. Ruus’ percipience in sending me has served me – us – better than I could have imagined. And your wisdom in granting Osaze command, I add. For the first time in years, Te, I have found some respite. I mentioned I killed … the pretender Grandmaster?

“You did, and the world is a better place for it. Tumo is Lord Frost, yes? Who is Eo?”

Tumo is Lord Frost, yes. Eo is the Imperial Consular Ordinary to Leviathan. I … I am somewhat … concerned, maybe, over my thoughts of killing Wolachya. I expected satisfaction, but … I feel only weariness, like finishing some unpleasant and tedious chore. The joy is all from Socks. I feel like my eyes have been opened to all my shortcomings. Some of them great, some of them small … would you believe I am even looking forward to resuming dinners with you?

“I had not realized my family dinners were so distressing,” Teodor said. “I had no idea, or I would never have subjected you to them. I had hoped to, well, reconcile with you. I had no intent of making you uncomfortable.”

I might have phrased that better, Xavien sighed. Still, yes, I dreaded them, and enjoyed them, too, in equal measure, but the dread is gone.

“I am amazed, and delighted, I assure you. And I beg your forgiveness for inflicting dread upon you. Oh. I do have a small update for you, regarding Chelm.”

It is nothing. I would welcome lighter news. Please!

“So light that it is practically gossip. You remember that lovely wrestling event we attended? With … a guest?”

Vividly. It was a pleasant, if something bittersweet, evening.

“Chelm is now with Karol,” and Teodor could hear the satisfaction in his own voice.

Bittersweet? Did I say bittersweet? How glorious! I shall congratulate them! I am not amazed, as one says, but I _ am _ delighted. I had thought it would take them another decade to sort through that knot of mutual misunderstanding and offended pride.

“Somebody might have … meddled. A little.”

You, obviously. Xavien’s tone shifted to awed. I would not have dared, but clearly, whatever quality you have that I constantly take as _ recklessness _ has served you – and Chelm, and Karol – well. Again. I will admit to wanting all the details, but … we are prepared to move again. I shall enjoy teasing the details from Chelm. Alas. I think myself well-practiced at _ tempus _ , and yet, I still find myself lacking time. I come, Master. Expect me.

“Travel safely,” Teodor said, wondering if that had reached Xavien before the spell ended. He would have to ask Xe what recklessness he’d braved in his impromptu matchmaking – it hadn’t seemed that fraught to him. Well.

Ruus. I have heard from Xe, he’s just outside Ouroborous with Dacien and Prince Lyo. He expects to be here in twelve hours –

How?!

Matched tempus march. All of them, apparently.

Ruus’ response was simply one of astounded bogglement.

Oh, yes, I agree. But it sounded as if they only have two who need assistance, so perhaps it is less astounding?

The Imperials are all capable of matching as well, then? How large is this accompanying guard? I’ll need to let General Un know. We will have rooms ready for them, Master, although they may be somewhat separated.

Yes, good thought, that hadn’t occurred to me yet, but by all means, we need the protocols and logistics handled. I trust you and the General can manage?

Do you have a number?

No, I did not think to ask … it was an extraordinary conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Xe in such a good mood.

Xe reached you? From Ungoliant? That range …

Another surprise, yes, sighed Teodor. But again, not my thought. Please contact Sasha. I will be here to greet His Serene Highness, so – obviously – I cannot go to Mog Ford. And, Ruus, I will admit you – and Xe, for that matter – were entirely correct in urging me not to go. The Patriarch is a prisoner in Maze, although … might it be possible for a brief parole, at some point, when events calm, to visit my father?

You think events will calm?

You are a bucket of ice-water, Ruus, thrown at a warm, dream-wrapped bull.

I do not see calm happening anytime soon. Surely, however, Teomas will come for Chelm and Karol?

They intend to visit him.

Then might he come for you and Lyo?

That is not a certain thing.

Ruus was quiet for a moment, and then answered, Of course, Master. Was there more? I guess at least five tens of bulls, if Prince Noroma’s escort is any measure, and … that will take some doing. Might I put some of them at Grey Hote?

Certainly. But Grey Hote is not that large. Osaze will not mind if we use House Wide, if that would be helpful. It is only he there, now. It has extensive guest and servant quarters that we may use. Even a barrack, I recall.

It may, Ruus said. General Un will be pleased to have the option, if nothing else … I need to put this in motion as soon as possible, Master. We will reach out to Herald Kadira.

Indeed, but … this is not why I called you. I have new instructions for Sasha.

Ah. Yes.

Dacien and Bryant require his skills. Sasha is to return at once. And General Randolph is to inform his guests that the Patriarch of Lycaili invites the Imperial Ambassador and five – no more than that – advisors and guards to meet with him – me_, that is – in two days time. And if it be not clear enough to them, that means no more than six persons in total. Obviously, we undertake to guarantee their safety. The invitation is not mandatory, of course, but if it be declined, the humans are no longer welcome on our side of Mog Ford, and must return to their territory by sunset of the following day. If he can avoid mentioning that threat, all the better, but I want words with Ambassador Phrixus, and if I cannot, then why do we host them at Mog Ford?_

I understand. Sasha to return with all haste for Dacien and Bryant. Randolph to invite no more than six Imperials, under threat of eviction, said threat to be held in reserve. Un to prepare for the arrival of both sets of Imperials.

Yes.

Master, there is one other matter … Prince Noroma is making inquiries of your location. Given that his brother arrives …

Let him know where to find me, and let my guard know to allow him up. With as few guards as possible, if you please. Do not reveal that you have coordinated with me. I am sure he will guess, but let him guess.

Prince Noroma to be given your location, and the guard notified to let him join you.

Yes. Thank you, Ruus.

Teodor continued to gaze out, wondering how long it would take for Prince Noroma to join him. Say a few minutes for Ruus to speak to someone to speak to someone to speak to someone to speak to Noroma. Say another five for the Prince to head up here, and then … back to business.

Prince Noroma arrived on the tower in under ten minutes.

“Welcome, Your Highness. The air is fresh, the breeze brisk, and the view inspiring, at least to me.”

The Prince slowly walked over to where Teodor stood. “I agree.”

“Is it time?” Teodor asked.

“Time?”

“Are you finally going to tell me why you’ve come to offer your brother as consort?”

“It can’t just be my Father the Emperor’s desire to create better relations with the West?”

Teodor finally turned to look at the Prince.

“Can it be?” Teodor asked. “I want good relations with Nippon, of course. I have the greatest respect for Nippon, love Nippon, wonderful Nippon, historical, respect, good will, happiness, mutual benefit, and so on, but … Nippon, regardless of how much love Lycaili have for it, is over a month away and overseas. We will never be good neighbors, because we are not neighbors. Were the Emperor interested in the West, then he would reach out to Leviathan – they are nearly five – perhaps seven – times our size, with three ports. Or Ancalagon, again, with a major port. Lycaili has no great port, because we have no ports. We are, I think, twenty or so borders away from the sea. So … no. I do not think this remarkably generous offer is merely the Emperor’s desire for better relations.

“I am not,” Teodor continued, “oblivious, and there are some few benefits which I welcome for Lycaili, but … I do not see reciprocal benefits to the Emperor, or to the East. Our cultures are not so similar. I am told that simply inquiring as to what the Emperor really wants is beyond the limits of what is permissibly asked, so I do not ask, rather, I ask if … you have come to tell me what I have wanted to know since we welcomed you – and you are welcome, I have had nothing but great pleasure in hosting your embassy – but still, it seems like a great deal of … mystery. Sadly, Your Highness, that is the very last thing I need at the moment – more mystery. I do beg your forgiveness if I have been overly blunt. General Un assures me there are quiet and polite back-channels where these questions are properly pursued, and yet, as I stand here, puzzling over events – and I am puzzled, very – it keeps presenting itself to me as yet another mystery.”

“Well, that is every bit as blunt as you suggest,” the Prince replied. “Still, I see nothing to forgive. I … cannot question your line of thought.”

Teodor smiled. “The thought had occurred to me, and I mention it for no particular reason, that you might be waiting for His Serene Highness’ arrival.”

“Another excellent thought,” Prince Noroma said.

“Barring unforeseen events – and I think I can fairly safely bar them – that will be tomorrow night,” Teodor said.

“What?” For the first time, Noroma seemed surprised.

“I have had word,” Teodor said. “Tomorrow night. I cannot, of course, host them in the style of the Imperial Court, given our unfamiliarity with it and the reticence on the part of those who might assist with making them welcome in a familiar way, but I trust our provincial backwater can muster some grace with which to receive them.”

“My own experience of your, which is to say, Lycaili’s, welcome leaves me in no doubt whatsoever of sufficient grace.”

Teodor gave a slight half-bow. “But.”

“But?”

“I beg your forgiveness, Prince Noroma. I am here to contemplate events, and how to respond. If you are not prepared to lessen these many mysteries, then … this is not a convenient time for further conversation.”

“I … I am bound by my instructions.”

Teodor shook his head heavily. “I understand your position. I trust you understand mine, exposed to the winds that blow in all directions, on top of a world whose deceptively calm surface boils with chaos below.

Noroma paused. “Did you choose to encounter me up here just for that, admittedly apt, metaphor?”

“Mere fortuity, Your Imperial Highness,” replied Teodor. “I must use what I have.”