Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Yusubru’s embrace was a considerable show of strength with the weight of jewels and clothing lending the emperor so much gravity. Yusubru treated him as he would a younger brother or blood-nephew. It did not meet Roka’s expectations for their friendship, but perhaps she should have expected it after their encounter with Talit the night before.

The guards remained where they stood. Either they lacked the training and motivation to recognize a blatant risk when they saw one, or they had been warned about Yusubru. Whatever the case, they showed remarkable restraint.

Only the two ensigns in the hall showed the surprise Roka felt. As soon as the emperor’s feet left the ground, the ensign guard moved to protect the woman, placing himself between the scene and his charge. He quickly realized there was no danger and backed away into his original position behind the woman, who stared at the embracing men with a bemused smile.

“Old brute,” the emperor exclaimed in delight after Yusubru let him back down. “I could have you executed for that.”

That seemed a logical course of action from Roka’s perspective, but the two men laughed like they had played some great joke. Indeed, Roka felt like the victim of a prank. Surely her master could have warned her.

“I prefer bear to brute,” Yusubru said, “though I am lacking in thick fur. Are my hugs so prickly as to warrant a death penalty?”

“Not so much prickly as bone-crushing,” the emperor said. He backed off from Yusubru a few feet and clasped his hands behind his back. His smile flattened and his eyes narrowed. Before Roka was aware it was happening, he changed into a different person, far more worthy of the title of emperor.

“Introductions are in order,” he intoned, gesturing to his left. “Kwamoto retired while you were away, and the duty of Captain of the Guard passed to E’zatomi, son of E’sai and Kamshiro.”

The man he indicated, Captain E’zatomi, stood and inclined his head to Yusubru. He wore a similar style of laminar armor to Roka’s master, though his hadn’t seen the same wear and tear as Yusubru’s. His pox marks were difficult to see behind the collar of his armor, but they appeared to ring the middle of his neck.

“Kwamoto’s term as captain was legendary,” Captain E’zatomi said, “and he spoke highly of you, Master Sentinel. I believe he was quite disappointed when you left. He always claimed the empire wasn’t quite as safe without you looking after it.”

“He was a good man,” Yusubru said. “Did you serve under him? Is it possible we met before today?”

“I only arrived in the citadel after you retired as keeper.”

Roka’s master had spoken of Guard Captain Kwamoto on a few occasions. His retirement had likely been recent, which meant Captain E’zatomi was relatively new to his position.

“Also in attendance,” the emperor said, drawing attention to his right, “the Mistress of Trade for the Many Ensigns of Donpar, Elise King.”

The emperor tried to hide it, but his eyes twitched once to Yusubru’s sword as he gave the woman’s name. Eliseking—Roka was not looking forward to pronouncing her name—finally stood and offered a hand to Yusubru. Part of Roka was morbidly curious to see what her master would do. Ensigns had not been a common sight during their travels, but on the single occasion Roka had witnessed her master interact formally with one and be offered a greeting hand, Yusubru had slapped the Ensign man’s hand aside and gruffly told him to keep his paws to himself. The more rational part of Roka prepared to intervene.

Now Yusubru gently took Eliseking’s hand, bent forward, and kissed it. It was a distinctly Ensign formal greeting, though Roka had never seen it. She glanced once at the emperor to see his reaction, but any surprise he was feeling was well-hidden.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Yusubru said, releasing Eliseking’s hand. There was no insult in his expressed pleasure, and Roka again felt she was being hazed.

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The emperor said, “This is my good friend Yusubru, son of Jinjicho and Nadiami.”

“I have also heard much,” Eliseking said. Her tongue did not struggle with the Ninzam language. She had likely been speaking it for many years. “Is this young flower your apprentice?”

Roka didn’t let herself react except to take a step forward in preparation for a greeting. The woman likely meant no insult, but Roka still found it strange to be called “young flower.” Young might be accurate enough, but she was not typically associated with flowers by someone she had just met. As well, Roka found it strange that an Ensign dignitary would be so attached to the emperor, but Roka did not know the ins and outs of Ensign influence in the citadel.

“I present to you Roka,” her master said, gesturing for her to come closer, “daughter of Barata and Fuuko.”

Roka took another step forward, coming side by side with Yusubru. The emperor took advantage of his privileged status and came to her first, cutting Eliseking off and extending his left hand. Roka took it with her own left hand, holding it loosely. It was a more traditional formal Ninzam greeting.

“Your Maj–” Roka started.

The emperor put up a finger to stop her. “It’s not often I get a chance to introduce myself,” he said. “Normally, if this hadn’t been a more intimate occasion between friends, one of these poor men guarding us would have called out my name the moment you walked through the door. Since we gave them a rest from that, it gives me the opportunity to say that I am Dawuto, son of Imankaj and Mosikoji, and I also happen to be emperor of Ninzam and her many coasts.”

Now that she was closer to him, Roka could see what she had forgotten to look for: Scarring on the emperor’s cheeks. These were not scars from any battle or hunting accident, but from the removal of his pox marks. Roka knew it to be a painful procedure not commonly undertaken. In fact, only an emperor or empress was likely to ever pursue such a procedure, but since the illness first struck the continent, every head of the empire had done so as a matter of course. When Talit ascended to the throne, he would almost certainly do the same.

The emperor continued, “I must say, I have been quite excited at the prospect of meeting Yusubru’s first and only apprentice. When I heard he had taken you in, I first thought it a joke, then I wondered what kind of young person would be crazy enough to go with him willingly, and finally I realized you must be a truly remarkable woman to stand by him.”

He let go of her hand.

“It is an honor to be complemented so,” Roka said. “If the emperor thinks me remarkable, then I believe a bar has been set that I am unlikely to rise above.”

“We shall see,” he said, and stepped back to stand in front of the Ensign woman and the guard captain.

“This is the girl we are considering for the position of Keeper of the Walls?” Eliseking asked. The question implied skepticism on her part, but her tone did not agree. In fact, she sounded somewhat supportive.

“Indeed,” was all the emperor had to say.

“I hope to be found worthy, Eliseking,” Roka said. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You may call me Ms. King, child,” Elise King said, and Roka realized she had made a small blunder. She should have recognized the woman’s name included a family name in the Ensign style—though some smaller nations on the continent with Ninzam practiced the same tradition—and that she did not have a single name. It should have been obvious when the emperor did not include her parents’ name in his introduction of her. Roka simply hadn’t yet acquired enough experience around Ensigns.

“I apologize, Ms. King,” Roka said.

“It is no matter,” Elise King said, “A common mistake among your people.” She looked at Yusubru. “What are her qualifications?”

Roka’s eye twitched, but she did not complain that someone else was being asked about her own validity for the position of keeper.

“She is a Sentinel,” Yusubru said. “Or she will be in the next few days when I raise her to be one. All full Sentinels meet the qualifications for the Keeper of the Walls.”

“Is that truly enough?” Elise King asked. “Forgive me, I do not know all of the Sentinel traditions.”

“You are forgiven,” Yusubru said, continually stunning Ruka with his politeness. “Our organization is purposely opaque. As you will no doubt be unsurprised to learn, that comes doubly when speaking of Ensigns. The war still hangs heavy over our heads.”

“We prefer people of Donpar or just the Donparsh.”

“Is there a difference?” Yusubru asked. “‘Ensign is part of your name.” Suddenly, he seemed much more like himself, cocky and dismissive of Ensign ways.

Elise King glared at him. “The difference is that I am not a flag.” She looked as if she wanted to spit when she said ‘flag.’

“I am sorry,” Yusubru said, and Roka detected no sincerity in the apology. “I will endeavor to improve my understanding of you.”

Yusubru and Elise King stared at each other, and Roka leaned forward, ready to jump between them. Nothing happened. The emperor looked between the two parties calmly and said, “The interview for Roka’s acceptance to the position of keeper can wait. It seems prudent to me to put it off until at least after she has been raised to a full Sentinel.”

“Roka is ready at any time,” Yusubru said, and he left it at that.

“In the meantime,” the emperor said, attempting to reintroduce some of his previous enthusiasm back into the room. “I have been looking forward to the opportunity to show off the capital. There have been many changes while you were away.”