columns in the throne-room. The third sheathed the walls,’ and on and on
and on. They sheathed the palace, then the whole royal compound. Then they
went after the public buildings. After two hundred years, they’d cemented
those little tiles all over every building in Matherion. There are low
dives down by the waterfront that are more magnificent than the Basilica of
Chyrellos. Fortunately the dynasty died out before they paved the streets
with it. They virtually bankrupt the empire and enormously enriched the
Isle of Tega in the process. Tegan divers became fabulously wealthy
plundering the sea floor.’
‘isn’t mother-of-pearl almost as brittle as glass?’ Khalad asked him. ‘It
is indeed, young sir, and the cement that’s used to stick it to the
buildings isn’t all that permanent. A good wind-storm fills the streets
with gleaming crumbs and leaves all the buildings looking as if they’ve got
the pox. As a matter of pride, the tiles have to be replaced. A moderate
hurricane can precipitate a major financial crisis in the empire, but we’re
saddled with it now. Official documents have referred to ‘Fire-domed
Matherion’ for so long that it’s become a cliche. Like it or not, we have
to maintain this absurdity.’
‘It is breath-taking, though,’ Ehlana marveled in a slightly speculative
tone of voice. ‘Never mind, dear,’ Sparhawk told her qu’ ite firmly.
‘What?’
‘You can’t afford it. Lenda and I almost come to blows every year
hammering out the budget as it is.’
‘I wasn’t seriously considering it, Sparhawk,’ she replied. ‘Well – not
too seriously, anyway,’ she added. The broad avenues of Matherion were
lined with cheering crowds that fell suddenly silent as Ehlana’s carriage
passed. The citizens stopped cheering as the Queen of Elenia went by
because they were too busy grovelling to cheer. The formal grovel involved
kneeling and touching the forehead to the paving-stones. ‘What are they
doing?’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘Obeying the emperor’s command, I’d imagine,’
Oscagne replied. ‘That’s the customary sign of respect for the imperial
person.’
‘Make them stop!’ she commanded. ‘Countermand an imperial order? Me, your
Majesty? Not very likely. Forgive me, Queen Ehlana, but I like my head
where it is. I’d rather not have it displayed on a pole at the city gate.
It is quite an honour, though. Sarabian’s ordered the population to treat
you as his equal. No emperor’s ever done that before.’
‘And the people who don’t fall down on their faces are punished?’ Khalad
surmised with a hard edge to his voice. ‘Of course not. They do it out of
love. That’s the official explanation, of course. Actually, the custom
originated about a thousand years ago. A drunken courtier tripped and fell
on his face when the emperor entered the room. The emperor was terribly
impressed, and characteristically, he completely misunderstood. He awarded
the courtier a dukedom on the spot. People aren’t banging their faces on
the cobblestones out of fear, young man. They’re doing it in the hope of
being rewarded.’
‘You’re a cynic, Oscagne,’ Emban accused the ambassador. ‘No, )Emban, I’m
a realist. A good politician always looks for the worst in people.’
‘Someday they may surprise you, your Excellency,’ Talen predicted. ‘they
haven’t yet.’
The palace compound was only slightly smaller than the city of Demos in
eastern Elenia. The gleaming central palace, of course, was by far the
largest structure in the grounds. There were other palaces, however glowing
structures in a wide variety of architectural styles. Sir Bevier
drew in his breath sharply. ‘Good Lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘That castle over
there is almost an exact replica of the palace of King Dregos in Larium.’
‘Plagiarism appears to be a sin not exclusively committed by poets,’
Stragen murmured. ‘Merely a genuflection toward cosmopolitanism, Milord,’
Oscagne explained. ‘We are an empire, after all, and we’ve drawn many
different peoples under our roof. Elenes like castles, so we have a castle
here to make the Elene Kings of the western empire feel more comfortable
when they come to pay a call.’
‘The castle of King Dregos certainly doesn’t gleam in the sun the way that
one does,’ Bevier noted. ‘That was sort of the idea, Sir Bevier,’ Oscagne
smiled. They dismounted in the flagstoned, semi-enclosed court before the
main palace, where they were met by a horde of obsequious servants. ‘What
does he want?’ Kalten asked, holding off a determined-looking Tamul garbed
in crimson silk. ‘Your shoes, Sir Kalten,’ Oscagne explained. ‘What’s wrong
with my shoes?’
‘They’re made of steel, Sir Knight.’
‘So? I’m wearing armour. Naturally my shoes are made of steel.’
‘You can’t enter the palace with steel shoes on your feet. Leather boots
aren’t even permitted – the floors, you understand.’
‘Even the floors are made of sea-shells?’ Kalten asked incredulously. ‘i’m
afraid so. We Tamuls don’t wear shoes inside our houses, so the builders
went ahead and tiled the floors of the buildings here in the imperial
compound as well as the walls and ceilings. They didn’t anticipate visits
by armoured knights.’
‘I can’t take off my shoes,’ Kalten objected, flushing. ‘What’s the
problem, Kalten?’ Ehlana asked him.
‘I’ve got a hole in one of my socks,’ he muttered, looking dreadfully
embarrassed. ‘I can’t meet an emperor with my toes hanging out.’ He looked
around at his companions, his face pugnacious. He held up one gauntleted
fist. ‘if anybody laughs, there’s going to be a fight,’ he threatened.
‘Your dignity’s secure, Sir Kalten,’ Oscagne assured him. ‘The servants
have down-filled slippers for us to wear inside.’
‘I’ve got awfully big feet, your Excellency,’ Kalten pointed out
anxiously. ‘Are you sure they’ll have shoes to fit me?’
‘Don’t be concerned, Kalten-Knight,’ Engessa said. ‘if they can fit me,
they can certainly fit you.’ Once the visitors had been re-shod, they were
escorted into the palace. There were oil lamps hanging on long chains
suspended from the ceiling, and the lamplight set everything aflame. The
shifting, rainbowhued colours of the walls, floors and ceiling of the broad
corridors dazzled the Elenes, and they followed the servants all bemused.
There were courtiers here, of course – no palace is complete without them and
like the citizens in the Streets outside, they groveled as the Queen of
Elenia passed. ‘Don’t become too enamoured of their mode of greeting,
love,’ Sparhawk warned his wife. ‘The citizens of cimmura wouldn’t adopt it
no matter what you ofFered them.’ Don’t be absurd, Sparhawk,’ she replied
tartly. ‘I wasn’t even considering it. Actually, I wish these people would
stop. It’s really just a bit embarrassing.’
‘that’s my girl,’ he smiled. They were offered wine and chilled, scented
water to dab on their faces. The knights accepted the wine
enthusiastically, and the ladies dutifully dabbed. ‘you really ought to try
some of this, father,’ Princess Danae suggested, pointing at one of the
porcelain basins of water. ‘It might conceal the fragrance of your armour.’
‘She has a point, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana agreed. ‘Armour’s supposed to stink,’
he replied, shrugging. ‘if an enemy’s eyes start to water during a fight,
it gives you a certain advantage.’
‘I knew there was a reason,’ the little princess murmured. Then they were
led into a long corridor where mosaic portraits were inlaid into the walls,
stiff probably idealised representations of long-dead emperors. A broad
strip of crimson carpet with a golden border along each edge protected the
floor of that seemingly endless corridor. ‘Very impressive, your
Excellency,’ Stragen murmured to Oscagne after a time. ‘How many more miles
is it to the throne-room?’
‘You are droll, Milord.’ Oscagne smiled briefly. ‘It’s artfully done,’ the
thief observed, ‘but doesn’t it waste a great deal of space?’
‘Very perceptive, Milord Stragen.’
‘What’s this?’ Tynian asked. ‘The corridor curves to the left,’ Stragen
replied. ‘It’s hard to detect because of the way the walls reflect the
light, but if you look closely, you can see it. We’ve been walking around
in a circle for the past quarter of an hour.’
‘A spiral, actually, Milord Stragen,’ Oscagne corrected him. ‘The design
was intended to convey the notion of immensity. Tamuls are of short
stature, and immensity impresses us. That’s why we’re so fond of the Atans,
We’re reaching the inner coils of the spiral now. The throne-room’s not far
ahead.’ The corridors of shifting fire were suddenly filled with a brazen
fanfare as hidden trumpeters greeted the queen and her party. That fanfare
was followed by an awful screeching punctuated by a tinny clanking noise.
Mmrr, nestled in her little mistress’ arms, laid back her ears and hissed.
‘The cat has excellent musical taste,’ Bevier noted, wincing at a
particularly off-key passage in the ‘music. ‘i’d forgotten that,’ Sephrenia
apologised to Vanion. ‘Try to ignore it, dear one.’
‘I am,’ he replied with a pained expression on his face. ‘You remember
that Ogress I told you about?’ Ulath asked Sparhawk, ‘The one who fell in
love with that poor fellow up in Thalesia?’
‘Vaguely.’
‘When she sang to him, it sounded almost exactly like that.’
‘He went into a monastery to get away from her, didn’t he?’