Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Roka forgot her dreams. The next morning, she and Master Yusubru waited in the open antechamber to the emperor’s audience hall. With only a few hours sleep, she was a little tired but outwardly fresh. The mosquito bite on the back of her elbow served as a reminder to do a better job of securing the net the next time she slept.

Her master did not show as much composure. He blinked owlishly and gave a wide yawn every other minute.

Roka wore her normal wrappings and went without her sword. Her master remained armed and armored in laminar. He never went without, and a Sentinel was not barred from carrying weapons in the emperor’s presence. Roka did not adhere to her master’s overprepared philosophy of constant armament. A Sentinel’s sword made others uneasy, even in the imperial court. The day might come when she regretted the lack of her weapon, but more often she regretted carrying it where unnecessary.

Two citadel guards armed with spears flanked Roka and her master, looking straight ahead. To the side, an imperial slave waited to be called upon for her service. Roka eyed her without turning her head. She was dressed simply, but with clean clothing, and she looked healthy. Roka did not expect any less. Imperial slaves, even those that had been criminals, were almost always well-treated.

The soft scrape of leather sandals on carpet announced the arrival of another party. Prince Talit and his gruff-looking guard entered through the open door and joined them in the antechamber. Roka was surprised to see him so soon, as she had expected the prince to be inside the audience hall with his father.

The citadel guards moved aside to give Talit space, bowing as they went. Talit took up position next to Yusubru and they grinned at each other like boys up to no good. Talit’s garments were not so simple anymore. This morning, he wore a purple robe with golden lace descending down the front. Two jeweled necklaces hung to his chest. His index fingers on both hands were hidden at the knuckle by rings embedded with large, glittering stones. Though his lavish appearance matched his station, Roka instantly liked him a little less.

“Good morning, Uncle, good morning, Roka,” he said, nodding to them both. “I hope you fared well last night in the heat?”

“It was lovely, thank you,” Roka said.

“The beds are lumpy,” her master said.

“Ha,” Talit laughed. “Some things never change. Mornings were always your greatest enemy.”

“And it seems some things do change,” Yusubru said. “When did you become so quick to judge my waking habits?”

“Unlike you, I have embraced the morning. It is when the most work gets done.”

“Work? And duties late into the night? You became responsible while I was away.” It sounded like mocking to Roka’s ear, but she saw pride in his eyes.

“And I wonder how, in all your travels and all the lumpy beds you have slept on, you did not become more accustomed to harsh awakenings? Especially considering this one is much gentler than, say, Mpuporo?”

Roka’s eyes widened a fraction. How did he know about– Oh, she thought, of course, Abudukku’s damn books. But Talit did not elaborate on any knowledge he had of the town of Mpuporo or how deeply he might have read into the events that occurred there.

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Yusubru sighed. “I suppose my disappointment in the rising sun is a failing I shall take to my grave.”

One of the large wooden doors to the audience hall opened, cutting off conversation. A slave held it open, waiting for the hall’s current visitors to take their leave. Roka and her group remained in place.

Voices drifted through the open door. Roka heard the tail end of a pronouncement on the construction of a dam, though she did not hear where or how large the dam would be. The voice giving the pronouncement was even in its tenor, loud enough to be heard, too soft for anyone to think it commanding.

A moment later, a procession of men in red capes passed through the open door. They juggled sheafs of paper or intricate-looking measuring tools. All bore the pox marks of the continent, but not all were Ninzamian. Roka assumed them to be architects but was not knowledgeable enough to be familiar with any multinational architectural organizations. A few of their number nodded to Talit in acknowledgement.

While Roka and the others waited for the audience hall to clear, she heard the muted conversation from within briefly shift to a new topic: Iron deposits. A female voice broached a question about rights to mine the metal, but was cut off almost immediately by the same voice that had made the pronouncement on the dam, refusing to indulge the speaker in conversation further. Roka did not hear the details of the refusal.

After the architects passed, the slave at the door gestured Roka and the others inside. “The emperor will see you now.”

One guard entered first, posting himself just inside the hall. Talit led the way after him with Roka and Yusubru behind. The second guard remained in the antechamber.

Their footsteps echoed as they walked to the center of the hall, passing by more exquisite paintings, wall carvings, and stylized support pillars. With her eyes fixed on the hall’s occupants, Roka could not examine the decorations in detail.

Five men and a woman sat on simple stone stools a few yards from a raised dais that ran parallel to the back wall. The dais held two empty ornate wooden chairs, one slightly larger than the other.

The emperor sat on the middle stool in front of the dais. Roka had never seen him in person before, but she recognized him anyway. His image was difficult to escape throughout the empire. His royal dress bore a strong resemblance to Talit’s own clothing, only with more opulence. The richest jewels of the empire adorned every inch of him. Rings, bracelets, buttons, necklaces, and piercings. The emperor positively glittered, and Roka wondered how he moved without leaving an expensive trail. Two heavily armed royal guards sat on his flanks, one with two swords and one with a short spear.

On the left side of the tableau were two Ensigns, a man and a woman. Roka recognized the man as a bodyguard, but he was apparently unarmed. She saw signs of a knife at his ankle, but it seemed he was not allowed anything else in the emperor’s presence.

The woman dressed strangely. She wore striped trousers and a tight button-down coat. Her brown hair was done up in short curls behind her head. A wide-brimmed hat waited in her lap for the next stroll she took outside. She eyed the approaching group carefully, lingering on the imperial slave in particular. Roka thought she might have seen distaste in the woman’s eyes, maybe for the slave or maybe for the institution that enslaved her.

However odd the Ensign woman’s clothing, her proximity to the emperor and status as an Ensign in the palace confirmed her as a woman of power, perhaps only a rung or two below the emperor himself. And yet, they sat on even ground.

To see so many eminent persons seated on mere carved rock made Roka feel exceptionally tall, and height was not one of her gifts.

When Master Yusubru was within a few yards of the strange tableau of influence, the emperor stood to meet him. Roka stopped and prepared to back up. While Sentinels enjoyed more liberties in the presence of the emperor, she did not wish to enter his personal space until invited. The others stopped with her, signaling her decision to be well-made.

Her master, however, did not stop. He propelled himself into the emperor with more gusto than seemed safe, let alone proper. He clapped the emperor on the back and then lifted him up into the air into a powerful hug.