The Phoenix Guards Read online

  “It is not, Duke. In all truth, I have been growing more and more unhappy with respect to Noima, that is, with respect to the Consort, for some time now.”

  “Then why has Your Majesty only just now brought the problem to my attention?”

  “Well, it has become worse.”

  “I beg to point out to Your Majesty that that is not an answer.”

  “Well then, because I thought my feelings were ignoble, unworthy, and had no foundation in fact.”

  “But then, all the more reason to come to me with them, Sire.”

  “That is true, Wellborn; you are right.”

  “But it is nevertheless true that this unhappiness has been growing, Sire?”

  “It is true, my dear Wellborn.”

  “And does it seem that it is now even disrupting the functioning of the court, that is, of the Empire?”

  “You have understood exactly.”

  “Then, do you think there could be a plan at work?”

  “How, a plan? Against me? On the part of the Consort? Duke, I nearly think you go too far.”

  “Not at all, Sire. I beg leave to point out that it was you who suggested the plan be on the part of the Consort.”

  “Well, who else could it be?”

  “Sire, have you ever seen a man implicated in a crime?”

  “I nearly think so, Wellborn. Every day, it seems, there is another crime against someone so important that I am required to make judgement.”

  “Well, and has Your Majesty ever seen a man implicate himself?”

  “On purpose? No, that I have never seen.”

  “But then, has Your Majesty ever seen one man implicate another?”

  “I think I already said so.”

  “But then, is it not your judgement that, if one man may implicate another, this does not constitute proof that the crime has been done?”

  “It seems you are saying, Duke, that someone is attempting to implicate Noima, with the purpose of disrupting the court.”

  “I think the possibility should be considered, Sire.”

  “But with what aim, Your Discretion?”

  “Oh, as to that, Sire, I have no idea.”

  “But come, what makes you think so?”

  “Sire, to answer that, I must ask you still more questions.”

  “You may do so then, Duke; for you know the questions you ask always serve to answer many that I have not thought to ask myself.”

  “That is my purpose, Sire; I am glad that I do not fail in all cases.”

  “Well, begin with these questions, then.”

  “Very well, I will begin in this way: how many times have you broken your fast with the Consort, as you proposed to do this morning?”

  “Only twice before.”

  “So, such a thing is unusual?”

  “Well, yes. Is that wrong of me? Tell me the truth.”

  “In itself, no.”

  “But then?”

  “Attend me, Sire.”

  “I am doing so.”

  “How is it that you decided to breakfast with Her Majesty this morning?”

  “How? Explain what you mean.”

  “I mean to say, Sire, what prompted the idea?”

  “Well, why should something have prompted it?”

  “Because you have only done so twice before; why, then today?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “Try to recall, Sire.”

  “I am trying, Wellborn, and I cannot.”

  “Well then, what prompted your decision to visit the baths?”

  “Oh, that is easy; I do so often.”

  “Well, and the Bath of Renewal?”

  “No, that rarely.”

  “Then, why today?”

  “Do you suggest a spell has been put on me? Then what of the Orb?”

  “A spell—perhaps, but not one the Orb can detect.”

  “Explain yourself, Wellborn.”

  “First, can Your Majesty tell me why you picked today to go to the Bath of Renewal?”

  “Because I thought that I felt tired.”

  “You thought so?”

  “Well, Lord Garland thought I seemed so.”

  “Ah!”

  “Excuse me, but you say, ‘ah.’”

  “Well, and if I do, Sire?”

  “I wish to know your thoughts.”

  “Your Majesty will soon know them. But first—”

  “What, more questions?”

  “Only this one: what gave you the notion to dine with Her Majesty this evening?”

  “I can answer that, and easily.”

  “Well, do so, then.”

  “I will. It was because my attempt to breakfast with her had failed in such an awkward manner.”

  “So you hoped that dining together would make up for it?”

  “Such was my idea.”

  “It was well thought, Sire.”

  “I cannot take credit for it.”

  “Who, then?”

  “My advisor, Lord Garland.”

  “But then, it was he who also suggested that you looked tired, which caused you to visit the Bath of Renewal.”

  “Well, and?”

  “That is all I wished to know, Sire.”

  “Now tell me—but wait, I have been struck with an idea.”

  “Tell me this idea, Sire; it is what I serve your Majesty to hear.”

  “It was also Lord Garland who wondered, this morning, what Her Majesty would be having for breakfast, and it was this that gave me the notion to eat in her company.”

  “Well, then, we see that all three cases have something in common.”

  “Yes, Lord Garland. But, do you think that he knew—?”

  “I think nothing, Sire. It is you who think, I only listen and ask questions.”

  “But why would he wish me to discover Her Majesty’s capricious behavior?”

  “Discover? You think, then, that this behavior is real, Your Majesty?”

  “In truth, Duke, I no longer know. But, now that I think of it, this is not the first time Garland’s ideas have led me toward suspicions of Her Majesty.”

  “Well, I hadn’t thought it was, Sire.”

  “But then, is he trying to help me discover something? Or is he attempting to create a disharmony where there is no cause?”

  “What do you know about him, Sire?”

  “He is a Tsalmoth from the south.”

  “Very well.”

  “He is of good birth.”

  “Yes, and?”

  “He is devoted to me.”

  “Ah, ah!”

  “Come, you doubt it?”

  “No, Sire, I merely question.”

  “No, no, Duke, you accuse him; say so at once.”

  “I accuse no one, Sire. That is not my way, as you well know. You have said that you felt unhappy about your treatment of Her Majesty the Consort. Together, we have looked for the causes of this treatment, and we have found Lord Garland.”

  “But, Your Discretion perceives that I do not know if Garland is using his subtle skills to show me what it is good for me to know, or attempting to harm me.”

  “Therefore, what should you do, Your Majesty?”

  Tortaalik considered this question for a space of several moments, then he said, “It seems I must find out the truth.”

  “That is but just. And, what else?”

  “Until I know the answer, I should send him away, so that he cannot do more harm; if he is innocent, he will be none the less welcome for having been away for a while.”

  “That would be well done. What else must you do?”

  “What else?”

  “Yes, Sire, what else?”

  “Well, I do not know what else I should do.”

  “You do not?”

  “I assure you I have no notion.”

  “Well, how does Your Majesty feel, now that we have spoken together?”

  “In truth, Duke, little better than before. When I came to you, I was unhapp
y; now I am both unhappy and worried.”

  “But Sire, why are you unhappy?”

  “Why? For just the reason I have given: first, I now fear a conspiracy to accomplish some unknown object, and second, just as before, I fear that I—ah.”

  “Well, Sire?”

  “You think, then, that I must apologize to my lady wife?”

  “Do you think so, Sire?”

  “The notion is unattractive, Duke.”

  “What was it you told me last week day about unattractive notions?”

  “That they seemed to be good indicators of the proper course.”

  “Well?”

  “You are right as always, my dear friend. I shall apologize to Noima, and that directly. I shall also send notes to Shaltre and Threewalls, and I will re-call His Highness Lord Adron.”

  “Then is that all you wish of me, Sire?”

  “For now it is, Wellborn. But I am certain I will see Your Discretion again, and that soon.”

  “Until then, Sire.”

  “Until then, Duke.”

  The interview complete, Wellborn took his wand from the stand as the Emperor left the room. Now, the Discreet’s task being finished, there is little reason to follow him. We could, at this time, return to our friends as they cross the High Bridge over the Foamy River, but, excepting a few sights that are still available to any who wish to make the journey, there is little enough there. Instead, then, we shall follow His Imperial Majesty, who, for the sake of his conscience, is climbing the stairs which lead to the apartments of Noima, the Imperial Consort.

  He found her in her apartments, surrounded by her maids of honor, and, as he rose to greet her, he paused to consider what her present state of mind might be, which will give us the opportunity to say two words about her who was the wife of the last Emperor before the Interregnum.

  There still survive many oil portraits of her, and what is clear from them all was that she was a true child of the Phoenix; that is, her hair was that bright golden color that exists only in that House and among a few Dragonlords of the e’Kieron line; her haughty, wide-set eyes were colored a deep blue; her mouth was small with lips that usually pouted, giving her at all times the appearance of either being about to kiss or having just kissed whomever she looked at; the bones on her face were well-chiseled, almost Dzur-like in their fineness; her neck was graceful; her arms were models of smoothness and perfection, and ended in hands whose fingers were exquisitely long and graceful.

  As to her character, it is well-reported that she did not know which end of a sword to hold; that is, she had never any intention of standing to battle, hence she applied to those around her for protection. It is also undeniable that she was as surrounded by men willing to protect her as Count Brakko, in the famous ballad, was by women, and like Count Brakko, she spared no effort in her toilette or behavior to secure this attention; and there is no disagreement among historians that she received enough for any three women. It is not recorded that she took advantage of any of the offers for liaisons which she received as her due, but neither is it recorded that she was offended by these gentle suggestions. On the contrary, there are indications that she felt out of sorts on any day on which she was not forced to defend her virtue against at least two or three such requests.

  Yet, we maintain that the Consort was not one of the true coquettes of her time. It is true she flirted, but it is nowhere recorded that she was ever cruel to those who fell under her sway, save with that cruelty which was necessary for a Consort who wished to maintain her virtue in the face of sieges, ambuscades, sorties, and pitched battles of all sorts. It was this virtue, in fact, that allowed her to remain calm and unblushing when, by chance or otherwise, His Majesty would discover her in close conversation with a gentleman of the court.

  With this in mind, we may see at once that, upon hearing the announcement that His Majesty had deigned to enter her quarters, Noima stood respectfully but coolly and awaited his pleasure, showing no signs of embarrassment, but neither any sign of welcome.

  “I bid you good evening, madam,” he began.

  “And a good evening to you, Sire. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  “Is it strange that I wish to see you, madam?”

  “Strange? Perhaps not, Sire, yet I confess that I did not expect you.”

  “Well, am I less welcome for that?”

  “Sire, you will, I hope, always be welcome here, whatever your purpose in coming.”

  “You pretend that I have a purpose, then?”

  “Well, have you not?”

  The Emperor sighed and dug his nails into the palms of his hands, for, now that he was there, he found it no easy matter to say what he had come to say. He cleared his throat, then, and said, “Well, madam, it is true; I have come here for a purpose.”

  “Should I, then, send my maids away?”

  Tortaalik began to say yes, but then, looking at the pretty girls who stood around Noima with their faces bowed, he suddenly seemed to see Wellborn’s countenance before his eyes, and he said, “No, let them stay, for it is only right that they hear what I have to tell you.”

  “What, Sire? You have something to tell me?” The expression on her face now resembled surprise and interest, with, indeed, some measure of anxiety.

  “I have,” said the Emperor.

  “But tell me then, I beg of you, Sire, for you can see that I am frightened at your countenance.”

  “You have no need to be, madam.”

  “No need? Yet you seem so stern, Sire.”

  “Well, that is because I am wroth.”

  “Oh, Sire, in what way have I been so unfortunate as to incur your displeasure?”

  “You have not, Noima; rather I am wroth at myself.”

  The Consort, on hearing him use her proper name, began to believe for the first time that she was not, in fact, about to be reprimanded before her ladies, a humiliation that would have stung a thousand times more than had it been delivered in private. Consequently, she began to breathe easier. “Well,” she said, “but how can you be angry at yourself?”

  “I have done something of which I am ashamed, madam, and I come here to beg your forgiveness for it.”

  “What? Your Majesty apologize to me? But, Sire, this is unheard of.”

  “Perhaps. It is nevertheless the case that I was wrong to speak harshly to you earlier to-day, and twice wrong to send Lord Adron away.”

  “Oh, but Sire—”

  “Allow me to finish, madam. I say it was wrong, and there is no fault with you. I shall, to-morrow, send a message by post to Lord Adron and beg his forgiveness. That is all I have to say.”

  “Surely you go too far, Sire.”

  “Not the least in the world. And, that said, I will now retire. Unless—”

  “Yes, Sire? Unless?”

  “Unless, madam, you will permit to embrace you first.”

  “Ah, with pleasure, Sire. There.”

  “Then you forgive me, Noima.”

  “Oh, there is nothing to forgive your Majesty for; yet, if there were, you have surely earned forgiveness a thousand times over.”

  “Well then, madam, I retire the happiest of men, the happiest of husbands.”

  “And you take your leave of a loyal and devoted wife, Sire.”

  Tortaalik, who by this time really was happy and proud that he had done what he ought, bowed with pleasure and retired from the Consort’s apartments, and went straightaway in search of Lord Garland.

  Garland was never difficult to find, for if the Emperor always had his eye on the Empire, then Garland always had his eye on the Emperor. We know that he was a small and graceful man, with the sinewy legs and arms of the Tsalmoth, and we know he must have been better with a blade than some of his critics say, for while he was Tortaalik’s favorite he fought some nine-and-twenty duels, and if he was not always victorious, he was never known to have taken a serious injury, and it is also known that, in a quarrel over certain looks the Emperor may or may no
t have given Jenicor e’Terics, he fought with the Marquis of Clawhills, himself a good blade, and that Garland laid the Marquis out stone dead in a single pass.

  The Emperor, then, found this gentleman in one of the antechambers of Tortaalik’s apartments, where he was engaged in playing dice with several other gentlemen of the court. The players rose and bowed to His Imperial Majesty, who answered only with a curt nod. He then made a sign that Garland should attend him and walked past the players into one of the lavish sitting rooms that made up his private area of the palace. Garland made haste to give his spot up to one of the gentlemen who were unengaged, and followed his liege.

  He found the Emperor standing, with one hand resting on a black marble desk, the other on a shelf of folios. Garland gave His Majesty a courtesy and awaited his words.

  “Lord Garland,” said His Majesty, “bide a moment.” Tortaalik then sat at his desk and found parchment, a quill, ink and blotter, and, with his own hand, composed a note, which he sealed with the Imperial arms, and again with his personal signet. He then addressed the envelope and handed it to Garland, who took it, looked at the address, and could not keep an expression of surprise from crossing his countenance.

  “Your Majesty, what does this mean?”

  Tortaalik, still sitting at the desk, gazed up the Tsalmoth and said, “Lord Garland, it nearly seems you question me.”

  Garland seemed almost to choke, but he stammered out an apology, saying, “Have I somehow been so unfortunate as to displease Your Majesty?”

  “I don’t say that you have.”

  “But—”

  “Hold your peace, Garland.”

  The Tsalmoth bowed. The Emperor continued, “The note, as you can see, is addressed to His Highness Lord Adron e’Kieron. It contains an apology I feel obligated to send him, because I so unjustly sent him away today. Do you understand, Lord Garland?”

  “Sire, I—”

  “You will deliver that message personally.”

  “I … when am I to set out, Sire?”

  “At once.”

  “Sire, it is a journey of more than a few days by carriage, and I must prepare.”

  “You may use the post horses. Here is a draft on the treasury for two hundred orbs, which should see you there and back.”

  “Still, Sire, I must beg of you still some time to prepare for the journey.”