Domes of Fire

Emperor Sarabian laughed delightedly. ‘You’re the most stimulating conversationalist I’ve ever met, your Royal Highness,’ he said to the little girl in his lap.

‘Thank you, your Imperial Majesty,’ she replied. ‘You’re not so bad yourself, you know.’

‘Danae!’ Ehlana said sharply.

‘Oh, mother. Sarabian and I are just getting to know each other.’

‘I don’t suppose –’ Sarabian’s tone was speculative.

‘I’m afraid not, your Majesty,’ Danae replied. ‘I’m not being disrespectful, but the crown prince is much too young for me. People gossip when the wife’s older than the husband. He’s a sweet-natured baby, though. But I’ve already decided who I’m going –’

‘You have? So young?’

‘It avoids confusion later on. Girls get silly when they reach the marrying age. It’s better to decide those things while you’ve still got your wits about you – isn’t it, mother?’

Ehlana blushed suddenly.

‘Mother started setting traps for my father when she was about my age,’ Danae confided to the Emperor of Tamuli.

‘Did you, Ehlana?’ Sarabian asked.

‘Well, yes, but it’s not nice to talk about it in public.’

‘He didn’t mind being trapped, mother,’ Danae said. ‘At least not after he’d got used to the idea. All in all, they make a fairly good set of parents – except when mother starts throwing her rank around.’

‘That will do, Princess Danae,’ Ehlana said in her official tone.

‘You see what I mean?’ Danae grinned at the Emperor.

‘Your daughter’s going to be a remarkably gifted queen,’ Sarabian complimented them. ‘Elenia’s going to be a lucky kingdom to have the two of you on the throne, one right after another. The problem with hereditary succession has always been those lamentable lapses in talent. A great king or emperor is almost inevitably succeeded by a hopeless incompetent.’

‘What’s the customary procedure here in Tamuli, Sarabian?’ Ehlana asked. ‘I know that you have nine wives. Does your first-born become the crown Prince, no matter what the race of his mother?’

‘Oh, no. Certainly not. The throne descends to the first-born son of the first wife. She’s always a Tamul, since a Tamul princess is always the first one a crown prince marries. I was married at the age of two, actually. I married my other wives right after I was crowned emperor. It was a group ceremony – eight brides and one bridegroom. That eliminates jealousies and arguments about rank. I was absolutely exhausted the following morning.’

‘You mean that –?’

‘Oh, yes. It’s required. It’s another way to avoid those jealousies I mentioned. And it all has to be finished by sunrise.’

‘How do they decide who’s first?’ Ehlana sounded very interested.

‘I have no idea. Maybe they roll dice for the privilege. There were four royal bed-chambers on each side of a long corridor. I was obliged to go down that endless hallway and to pay a call on each of my new brides. It killed my grandfather. He wasn’t a young man when he ascended the throne, and the exertion was too much for him.’

‘Do you suppose we could change the subject?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘Prude,’ Ehlana chided him.

‘I wonder if Dolmant would let me have more than one husband,’ Danae mused.

‘Never mind,’ Sparhawk told her very firmly.

The others arrived, and they all gathered around a large table set with a lunch consisting of unfamiliar delicacies. ‘How did you find Subat, your Grace?’ Sarabian asked the Primate of Ucera.

‘We went to his offices, and there he was, your Majesty.’

‘Emban,’ Sephrenia chided the fat little churchman, who was looking suspiciously at an undefinable meatcourse.

‘Sorry, your Majesty,’ Emban apologised. ‘Your prime minister still seems to be a bit set in his ways.’

‘You noticed,’ Sarabian said dryly.

‘We definitely noticed, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied. ‘His Grace here turned his thinking upside down for him just a bit, though. He suggested that what the world really needs is a Divine Emperor or an Imperial Archprelacy. Both offices are incomplete as they stand.’

‘Me? A God? Don’t be ridiculous, Emban. I’ve got enough problems with a government. Please don’t pile a priesthood on top of it.’

‘I wasn’t really serious, your Majesty,’ Emban replied. ‘I just wanted to shake up his thinking a bit more. That talk you had with him opened his eyes, right enough, but we still have to open his mind.’

‘What happened to your arm?’ Vanion asked the woman he loved. Sephrenia had just turned back her sleeve to reveal her bandaged wrist.

‘I sprained it,’ she replied.

‘On a stubborn Styric head,’ Zalasta added, chuckling.

‘Sephrenia!’ Vanion stared at her.

‘I used my Pandion training, dear one,’ she smiled. ‘Someone should have told me that I was supposed to lock my wrist, though.’

‘You actually hit someone?’ Kalten asked incredulously.

‘She did indeed, Sir Kalten,’ Zalasta grinned. ‘She knocked him half-way across the room. She also threatened to kill him and even went so far as to begin the death spell. He grew very co-operative at that point.’

They all stared at her in disbelief.

‘Oh, stop that,’ she told them. Then she laughed softly. ‘It was a great deal of fun actually. I’ve never bullied anyone before. It’s very satisfying, isn’t it?’

‘We like it,’ Ulath grinned.

‘The Styrics will co-operate fully,’ she told them.

‘How was the army?’ Emban asked Tynian.

‘I don’t think we should expect too much there, your Grace,’ Tynian replied carefully, glancing at the emperor. ‘Their function’s primarily ceremonial.’

‘They come from the very best families, Sir Knight,’ Sarabian said defensively.

‘That might be part of the problem, your Majesty – that and the fact that they’ve never had to actually fight anybody. We’ll be depending on the Atans anyway, so we won’t really need the Imperial Army.’ He looked at Engessa. ‘Is the local garrison up to standard, Atan Engessa?’ he asked.

‘A little soft, Tynian-Knight. I took them out for a run this morning, and they began to falter after twenty miles. I gave some orders. They’ll be fit by the end of the week.’