The Phoenix Guards, Page 4

  Aerich had no answer to this, so they continued in silence toward the Imperial Palace.

  The Imperial Palace was begun shortly before the reign of Emperor Jamiss I, and the earliest version was completed toward the end of his reign, which encompassed, in its nine hundred years, the entirety of the reign of the House of the Vallista in the First Cycle. The story has come down to us that the Tsalmoth Emperor who preceded him, Faarith I, took possession of the Palace before it was habitable, and that he was killed by falling masonry as he directed the installation of the throne. That the Imperial Orb, which was even then beginning to show its marvelous attributes, didn’t save him, was taken as a sign by Jamiss, the engineer who was directing the building. He thereupon claimed the throne and the Orb for his own. While this tale smacks of the apocryphal, we cannot deny that it has a certain charm.

  At any rate, the aforementioned Vallista reign saw, in addition to the construction of the Imperial Palace, the creation for the first time of forts and fortresses (the distinction, certain comments by the Lord of Snails notwithstanding, having nothing whatsoever to do with the presence of breastworks, nor the size of buttresses) along what was then the Eastern border. The construction of the Great Houses around the Imperial Palace did not begin until the Second Cycle, with the reign of Kieron the Younger, of the House of the Dragon. He ordered the building of the Great House of the Phoenix, opposite the Palace, as a tribute to Empress Zerika II, or possibly as a bribe to persuade her to relinquish the throne—history is unclear on this. The other Houses were built over the course of the Lyorn, Tiassa, and Hawk reigns during this Cycle, and doors were added to the Imperial Palace which looked out on each. Streets were laid on each side of these Houses, so that if one left the Palace by, for instance, the Athyra Door, one would pass the House of Athyra on one’s left.

  It is not our intention to weary our readers with a description of each Great House in the Imperial Circle, but we beg leave to make a hasty sketch of the Palace itself.

  The Palace was built before the Vallista architects had split into the Idyllic and Realist camps (and therefore, of course, long before the Reunification and subsequent splits), but the seeds of both major styles could be seen quite clearly, as Mistress Lethria has shown so well in her recent treatise. By the time of Emperor Tortaatik—that is, by the time of which we have the honor to write—the Palace had long since reached its final form, and the original building was a mere nucleus within, holding the throne room, the personal chambers of the Emperor and his family, kitchens, and a few small audience chambers. The larger Palace rose nine stories into the air, contained full courtyards at each door, a separate four-story wing (with associated minister) for each House, dozens of balconies (pillared and plain), hundreds of stairways (circular, curved, twisted, and straight), thousands of windows (round, oblong, triangular, rectangular, octagonal, and square), nine libraries (public and private), four indoor gardens and arboreta, twelve major indoor baths, sixty-five towers, twenty-seven minor domes and three major ones, and was, in the famous words the Empress Undauntra I, “the most bleeding indefensible structure it has ever been my duty to occupy.”

  In those days, no one familiar with the Imperial Palace spoke of going there. One went to the Dragon Wing, if it was a matter of war, or the lorich Wing, if it was a matter of law, or the Central Palace, if it was an Imperial matter, and so on.

  It was to the Dragon Wing that our friends found themselves traveling. Khaavren knew some of this, from having been told of it, but he had no comprehension of it until, walking around the immense complex of buildings, looking for the Street of the Dragon, he realized he was seeing one massive structure.

  “It’s amazing!” he cried to his companions.

  Pel smiled complacently, but Tazendra touched his arm and said in a low voice, “Come! Not so loud. Everyone will think that you come from the duchies.”

  A puzzled look crossed Khaavren’s countenance. “But I do come from the duchies.”

  This time, the look of puzzlement crossed Tazendra’s features, while Aerich smiled.

  In due course they came to the Street of the Dragon. They walked along it until they came to the gate into the Dragon Courtyard. Eight guards were stationed on the walls of this gate, dressed in the black with silver trim of their House. Each carried a pike and had a sword at his side.

  As the companions came near, one of the Guards said, “Who approaches the Gate of the Dragon, and by what right?”

  “The Cavalier Pel, Guardsman of the company of G’aereth, with potential recruits, to see the Captain.”

  “Enter,” suggested the guard.

  They passed beneath the arched gateway, which had not been closed. Khaavren found himself, to his own annoyance, nervous. For the first time, he began to wonder if he could make his mark in an organization filled with such men and women as these. But he resolutely put these thoughts aside.

  They were challenged once more before being admitted into the wing itself. They were in a hall wide enough for a party twice their size to walk abreast. The walls were of marble, and unadorned save for occasional oil paintings of great battles, none of which, we are forced to admit, Khaavren recognized.

  The apartments of the captains of the Imperial Guard were located in the west sub-wing of the Dragon Wing of the Palace, which was reached through a wide hallway that jutted off from the main entrance at a sharp angle, passing beneath a plain arch and sweeping in a gentle curve away from the central area of the Palace. In it, each of the captains had apartments arranged in this way: a large foyer or waiting room, a private audience room for the captain, and audience rooms for up to six lieutenants. Behind the captain’s audience room was a stairway, leading up to the captain’s living quarters. Each captain also had a small stairway which communicated to the audience quarters of the Brigadier-General of the Imperial Guard, to whose person and household the entire third floor of this sub-wing was devoted. The fourth and top floor was a vast meeting hall, where the Brigadier could address as many as three thousand Guards at once.

  There were quarters in the Palace for six captains, although there were, at present, only two. Each captain could command as many as six lieutenants, although Pel’s captain, My Lord Count of Gant-Aerethia (or G’aereth, as he was then known) had only troops enough for one, and had therefore chosen to have none. We should note in passing that this decision of Captain G’aereth’s had the effect, not entirely accidental, of leaving his troops with the belief that anyone who could show himself worthy would be promoted to fill the spot.

  Khaavren and his companions entered the foyer of this captain, which was nearly empty except for them, and Pel addressed a few words in a quiet voice to one of the Guardsmen. This man, a tall Dragonlord with two shortswords, nodded and stepped over to the Captain’s door. More words were spoken quietly, then the Dragon nodded to Pel, who motioned his companions forward. Khaavren’s heart was pounding as they stepped toward the door, but he attempted to look as cool as Aerich, or, failing that, as haughty as Tazendra.

  However, before they reached the door, there was the sound of commotion behind them, and a cry of “Make way! Make way for Lord Shaltre. Make way!”

  Khaavren, whose keen eyes missed nothing, saw Aerich’s back tense as this name was pronounced, but the Lyorn coolly moved to the side when Pel, who was leading them, did so. Khaavren and Tazendra followed this lead, and as they did, two things happened. The first was that an old, powerfully built Dzurlord appeared from the door in front of Pel, walking quickly into the middle of the room. This was plainly the Captain. His eyes were fixed on the opposite door, so Khaavren looked there also. A man and a woman, both Dragonlords and both in Guardsmen’s cloaks, entered and stepped to the sides. Then another came through the door, dressed in the golden-brown and red of the House of the Lyorn, but wearing long, loose breeches instead of a skirt, and no vambraces. Khaavren glanced quickly at Aerich, but the latter’s face showed no expression.

  The Lyorn noble and the Captain l
ooked at each other, then nodded and the captain signaled that the other should enter his audience chamber. This chamber, we should note, was supplied with a hard oak door, on leather hinges, set into a wall of stone, so nothing said within could be heard from the antechamber, unless one pressed one’s ear directly to the door.

  Pel shrugged, as if to say, “Well, it may be a while then,” and walked casually over to the woman who had accompanied the Lyorn. As he did this, Khaavren leaned over and whispered to Aerich, “Who is he?”

  In a tone without inflection, Aerich said, “The Count of Shaltre, Marquis of Deepsprings, Baron of—”

  “Pardon me, good Aerich,” said Khaavren. “But you perceive that these names tell me nothing.”

  “Well, he is a chief advisor to His Imperial Majesty.”

  “Ah!”

  Then Khaavren noticed that Pel was in deep conversation with the woman who had escorted the Lyorn. She smiled and shook her head, and, from the back, Khaavren fancied he could see Pel smiling at her. After a moment, Pel shrugged and seated himself next to the door, and leaned back as if resting—with his head remarkably close to the door itself. Aerich and Khaavren exchanged a glance full of meaning.

  “Well?” said Tazendra to Khaavren.

  “Well?” said Khaavren. “I should think we could wait. What is your opinion, Aerich?”

  In answer, Aerich seated himself and said, “This appears to be a waiting room.”

  Khaavren nodded and also sat down, on a backless stone bench that caused him to wonder briefly who had done the labor of bringing it there, how many it had taken, and if they were well-paid for their trouble. Tazendra looked unhappy but also sat down. A moment later, Pel stretched lazily and leaned forward, and at just that moment the door opened and Count Shaltre emerged. His eyes flashed fire, but he said nothing. He collected the two Guards who had escorted him and departed.

  Tazendra said, “Well, should we—”

  “Hush,” said Aerich. Pel turned back to them and sat down next to Tazendra.

  “Well?” said Khaavren. “What did you learn?”

  “Learn?” said Pel, frowning. “Do you pretend I learned anything?”

  “I nearly think so,” said Khaavren. “Or, at any rate, I should think you were trying to.”

  “Not the least in the world, I assure you,” said Pel.

  Before Khaavren could answer, the Dragonlord who had been in the room said, “The Captain will see you now.” The four stood as one. Pel led the way into the audience chamber, with Tazendra close at his heels, followed by Aerich and Khaavren.

  They found themselves standing before a long desk, covered with papers. Behind the desk was the Captain, and behind him a window that looked out into a courtyard, where several Guardsmen could be seen engaged in sword practice. A cool breeze came through the window, disturbing the papers, which were only held in place by stones set on them.

  G’aereth gave them a greeting with his hand. Pel said, “My Captain, I have the honor to present to you the Cavalier Aerich, the Cavalier Tazendra, and the Marquis of Khaavren.”

  “Welcome, my friends, welcome. So, you all wish to join His Imperial Majesty’s Guards?”

  They signified that this was, indeed, the case.

  “Well, well,” he said. He addressed Aerich. “It would appear that you have no blade.”

  Aerich bowed as a sign of agreement.

  “Can you use one?” asked the Captain.

  Aerich shrugged, as if to say, “Who cannot?”

  “Are you then, a sorcerer?”

  This time when Aerich shrugged it meant, “Only a poor one.” Aerich, as we can see, was very expressive with his gestures.

  The Captain looked at him closely for a moment, his keen eyes taking in the skirt that is the mark of a trained warrior of the House of the Lyorn. Then the Captain grunted, as if to say, “I have no worries about your fighting abilities, my friend.” The Captain’s grunts, as we can see, were nearly as expressive as the Lyorn’s shrugs.

  G’aereth turned his attention to Tazendra. He said, “I see that you have a blade.”

  “Well, so I do.”

  “Can you play with it?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Ah! And are you a sorcerer?”

  “If my lord would be good enough to try me—”

  The Captain grunted, which meant, this time, “There is no need for the moment.”

  He continued, “Can you ride?”

  “I was born on horseback,” she said.

  “Hmmm. And you, my good Khaavren?”

  “My lord?” said Khaavren, who felt a sudden tightening in his throat. “Yes, I ride.”

  “Are you a sorcerer?”

  “No part of me, I must admit.”

  “And your swordplay?”

  “I only ask that you try me, my lord.”

  “That’s well,” he said. “That is what we’ll do.” He reached into a cupboard that was next to his chair and found three purses. He passed one to each. “Guardsman Pel will show you where you may purchase uniform cloaks. Come back when you are attired, and we will give you a trial duty, during which each of you will experience a patrol as a Guardsman, and a report will be made of how well you perform your duties.”

  “Thank you, Lord,” said Khaavren, taking the purse. Aerich bowed his head, which amounted to the same thing.

  Tazendra, however, bowed without accepting the purse. “I am well provided for,” she said. “I have no need—”

  “Ah! So much the worse!” said G’aereth.

  “So much the worse?”

  “Yes. It is my wish that I, and I alone, you perceive, outfit and equip my Guardsmen. I wish them to be dependent upon me, as I am upon them.”

  “Oh. Well then—”

  “Yes?”

  “I shall give up my funds from this moment.”

  “That would be well. And I have just remembered something else.” He found, from within the same cupboard, a handful of gold Imperials, which he gave to Aerich. “These are to allow you to purchase a sword.”

  Aerich shrugged again, this time to indicate, “I will obey, naturally.”

  At this, they understood the interview to be at an end, and filed out of the room, after bowing to the Captain.

  “Come now,” said Tazendra to Pel, “let us adjourn to the tailor with whom we saw you speaking earlier. The sooner we are outfitted, the sooner we may be tested. And the sooner tested, the sooner we shall be able to cover ourselves with glory.”

  Aerich shrugged again.

  Chapter the Fourth

  In Which Aerich Acquires a Sword

  And our Friends are Assigned their Duties

  ON THE WAY TO MEET with the Chreotha tailor, Pel had occasion three times to point out to Aerich that they were passing a weapon-smith, but each time the latter merely shook his head. The third time, Pel said, “I should mention, I think, that the Captain expects you to be armed.”

  “I will be,” said Aerich laconically. Even as he spoke something seemed to catch his eye, for he stopped, and indicated a door leading down into the basement of a hostelry. They were on a tiny, unnamed street between the Street of the Dragons and the Street of the Seven Trees, perhaps half a league from the Dragon Wing. The hostel was a squat, two-story building, of whitewashed brick, and had a large sign depicting a fat partridge. The door to the basement had a small sign, depicting a simple longsword.

  “Here?” said Pel.

  “Do you know this smith?” asked Aerich.

  “K’sozhaleniju, I do not,” said Pel, falling for a moment into the Serioli speech then fashionable at court.

  Aerich, without another word, made his way down the stairs. The others followed, and found themselves in a small, stuffy basement, which would have been damp, smelly, close, and dark, were it not, in fact, well-lit, which prevented it from being dark. An old Vallista, with scraggly grey hair and bright eyes, sat at a table honing a hiltless blade by use of a small whetstone. As the four friends entere
d, he looked up and pursed his lips, as if trying to decide why someone could be coming to see him. Then he shook his head and said, “May I have the honor to be of some service to you, my lords?”

  Aerich nodded. “I would like a sword,” he said. “It is to be three and three quarter pounds, forty-seven centimeters of blade. The width is to be a uniform three and one half centimeters. The steel must be Kanefthali, tempered in the Dui’clior way and crystal-forged. The balance must be within one centimeter of the guard, which must be plain. Double-edged, oak-covered hilt.”

  The Vallista listened to this quietly, then bowed, “Length of the hilt, lord?”

  “Anything within reason.”

  The smith nodded. “I have one that is made of a fine alloy, woven, as is said, in the techniques of—” He paused, seeing that Aerich was uninterested in these details. He continued, “It fits all of the particulars you mention save hilt and balance.”

  “Balance is necessary,” said Aerich.

  “Of a certainty it is, lord,” said the Vallista. “But with a few words, I think, I can satisfy you.”

  “Pray do so, then.”

  “I shall.”

  “How?”

  “Well, this way: I shall remove the hilt and replace it with one of oak, and I will hollow this out and fill it with lead shot until the balance is correct. You perceive, then, that we will have solved both problems at once.”

  “Admirable,” said Aerich.

  “To be sure, I will also sharpen, clean, and polish it. Would you like leather grips on the hilt?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And will you have a stiffened scabbard? Or perhaps a soft leather sheath?”

  “Just so,” said Aerich.

  “A belt then as well, with a small chain for a side draw?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Very good.”

  The Vallista disappeared into a back room, whence the sound of sawing could be heard for a few minutes, then other sounds which Khaavren recognized as smoothing and polishing. The companions occupied themselves by describing the coach-ride to Pel, and discussing their strange companions, who were dressed as Issola, yet seemed to be Phoenix. When Khaavren explained his observations about the candlebud, Pel’s brows came together, and then Khaavren observed a faint smile land upon his lips, hover for a moment, and fly off. Yet when he asked about it, Pel denied having any thoughts on the matter; Tazendra, we should add, was amazed that this deception had taken place before her, and demanded several times of Khaavren and Aerich if they were certain of the truth of their observations, to which they replied without hesitation that they were.