Domes of Fire
Page 119Ehlana let that pass.
After another effusive exchange between their Majesties, the prime minister escorted the visitors from the hall. Just outside the door to the throne-room they mounted a flight of stairs and proceeded along a corridor directly to the far side of the palace, foregoing the pleasure of retracing their steps around and around the interminable spiral.
Pondia Subat, speaking through an interpreter, pointed out features of interest as they progressed. His tone was deliberately off-hand, treating wonders as commonplace. He was not even particularly subtle about his efforts to put these Elene barbarians in their place. He did not quite sneer at them, but he came very close. He led them along a covered walk-way to the gleaming Elene castle, where he left them in the care of Ambassador Oscagne.
‘Is his attitude fairly prevalent here in Matherion?’ Emban asked the ambassador.
‘Hardly,’ Oscagne replied. ‘Subat’s the leader of a very small faction here at court. They’re arch-conservatives who haven’t had a new idea in five hundred years.’
‘How did he become prime minister if his faction is so small?’ Tynian asked.
‘Tamul politics are very murky, Sir Tynian. We serve at the emperor’s pleasure, and he’s in no way obliged to take our advice on any matter. Subat’s father was a very close friend of Emperor Sarabian’s sire, and the appointment of Subat as prime minister was more in the nature of a gesture of filial respect than a recognition of outstanding merit, although Subat’s an adequate prime minister – unless something unusual comes up. Then he tends to go all to pieces. Cronyism’s one of the major drawbacks of our form of government. The head of our church has never had a pious thought in his life. He doesn’t even know the names of our Gods.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Emban said, his eyes stunned. ‘Are you trying to say that ecclesiastical positions are bestowed by the emperor?’
They had entered the main hall of the castle, which, with the exception of the gleaming nacre that covered every exposed surface, was very much like the main hall of every Elene castle in the world.
‘The servants here are Elenes,’ Oscagne told them, ‘so you should have no difficulty explaining your needs to them. I trust you’ll excuse me now. I must go make my report to his Imperial Majesty.’ He made a face. ‘I’m not really looking forward to it, to be honest with you. Subat’s going to be standing at his Majesty’s elbow making light of everything I say.’ He bowed to Ehlana, then turned and left.
‘We’ve got problems here, I think,’ Tynian observed. ‘All this formality’s going to keep us away from the emperor, and if we can’t tell him what we’ve discovered, he’s not likely to give us the freedom of movement we’re going to need.’
‘And the antagonism of the prime minister’s going to make things that much worse,’ Bevier added. ‘It rather looks as if we’ve come half-way round the world to offer our help only to be confined in this very elaborate prison.’
‘Let’s feel things out a bit before we start getting obstreperous,’ Emban counselled. ‘Oscagne knows what he’s doing, and he’s seen almost everything we’ve seen. I think we can count on him to convey the urgency of the situation to Sarabian.’
‘If you have no need of us, your Majesty,’ Stragen said to Ehlana, ‘Talen and I should go make contact with the local thieves. If we’re going to be tied up in meaningless formalities here, we’ll need some help in gathering information.’
‘How do you plan to communicate with them?’ Khalad asked him.
‘Do what you must, Stragen,’ Ehlana told him, ‘but don’t cause any international incidents.’
‘Trust me, your Majesty,’ he grinned.
The royal apartments in the castle were high up in a central tower. The castle was purely ornamental, of course, but since it was a faithful reproduction of an Elene fort, the builders had unwittingly included defensive features they probably hadn’t even recognised. Bevier was quite pleased with it. ‘I could defend the place,’ he judged. ‘About all I’d need would be a few vats of pitch and some engines and I could hold this castle for several years.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Bevier,’ Ehlana replied.
Later that evening, when Sparhawk and his extended family had said good night to the others and retired to the royal apartment, the Prince consort lounged in a chair by the window while the ladies did all those little things ladies do before going to bed. Many of those little ceremonies had clearly practical reasons behind them; others were totally incomprehensible.
‘I’m sorry, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana was saying, ‘but it concerns me. If the Empress Elysoun’s as indiscriminately predatory as Oscagne suggests, she could cause us a great deal of embarrassment. Take Kalten, for example. Can you believe that he’d decline the kind of offers she’s likely to make – particularly in view of her costume?’
‘I’ll have a talk with him,’ Sparhawk promised.
‘She’s vulgar,’ Baroness Melidere sniffed.
‘She’s very pretty though, Baroness,’ Alean added, ‘And she’s not really flaunting her body. She knows it’s there, of course, but I think she just likes to share it with people. She’s generous more than vulgar.’
‘Do you suppose we could talk about something else?’ Sparhawk asked them in a pained tone.
There was a light knock on the door, and Mirtai went to see who was asking admittance. As always, the Atana had one hand on a dagger-hilt when she opened the door.
It was Oscagne. He was wearing a hooded cloak, and he was accompanied by another man similarly garbed. The two stepped inside quickly. ‘Close the door, Atana,’ the Ambassador hissed urgently, his usually imperturbable face stunned and his eyes wild.
‘What’s your problem, Oscagne?’ she asked bluntly.
‘Please, Atana Mirtai, close the door. If anybody finds out that my friend and I are here, the palace will fall down around our ears.’