╩ 3 ╩
“Luminary Polena, you are needed today in court, I'll expect you in the hall once you have readied yourself.” that was all Knight Luminary Coralm said and he left to await her outside without awaiting a response. Of course she came, indeed she had little choice, he could have ordered her. She donned a sash and added pins to the sleeves and neck of her Luminary's robe, finery she had little need for, and as a last thought took up her journal satchel. Trying not to show annoyance of fluster she met Coralm in the hall and they walked silently down to the Street of Eagles, or was it the Street of Purple Cloth? She could never remember the names of streets in this part of the Fortress for they were not posted. As with many things in this palace city, one simply had to know. All the while she was expecting Coralm to speak. They passed a place she recognized the Square of Glass Baubles, nearly half the journey without a word and Polena felt she must break the silence.
“In ninety days Knight Luminary I think you have told me as many words. Not one of them was related to anything more important than what the weather might do next. Are you really having me accompany you to court without any preamble?”
Coralm's aged face was stern, his hawkish nose fixed forward with predatory certainty as they walked.
“Yes,” and then a moment later still without looking towards her, “I have not had need of you in court this season and have not asked you there. Today I am asking you to court. When I next ask your accompaniment will depend on the manner of your company. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You should remember this way to court. It's a safe one.” That was all the answer he would give, and all she needed. Polena knew their status here was conditional. Furthermore she always worried for Flin, the enemy of her People's Alliance, who ever sought to quietly chill relations, snub trade, and discredit their mission. Fortress Edgar was independent. It's Nobility and Council gave fealty to every nation, but historic ties to Fiedjan in the west and Flin in the north demanded more of the respect than that of Polena's homeland the People's Alliance of Creace, a distant ally at best to the Fortress. It was no secret to Polena that she and Coralm were given respect because of the lucrative trade their nation could offer and, as her mentor back in Meeda had put it: “as a means of punishing Flin when they behave rudely.” That she might need to take care in some parts of the Fortress city was no surprise to her but actually having to do so filled her with a quiet thrill. They walked fifteen minutes through the narrow winding streets, up and down several stairs, each known by one of many traditional names, and along walk ways above and below the main thoroughfares. The streets were chocked with echos while the walks closest to the outer walls were hushed by the constant winds beyond. At last they reach the court and were given to wait with a group of about forty observers, courtesans, and minor councilors until a place could be made ready for them in the Hall of the Speakers beyond. Here, amid the hush of conversation she spoke again to Coralm, finding herself whispering out of excitement as much as tact.
“You would only bring me here if you had need of me. That means the situation has changed in court since I arrived.”
“Somewhat,” was his curt response. Coralm was, after all, a Knight Luminary, more of a battlefield chaplain than a scholar or spiritual guide. These qualities of silence made him a fine diplomat in this foreign city, but made him opaque to friend as well as foe.
“Please Sir Coralm, you must speak frankly with me,” said Polena, why am I needed today?”
“Because, Polena, today the wind is blowing in a different direction.”
“What?”
“Just be with me Luminary, as the second book says, Lunas ut poles, Lunas coranm.”
The phrase quieted her. It was one of the old proverbs in the sacred Parnish speach, and its meaning was “the moon gives light, but the moon has ears” or more directly, a patron is also a watchman. And so she waited with the murmur of the crowd, look about to try and recognize who was gathered by what she had heard and read, and tried to make her mind a harmony with Coralm's. Trying to meet the thoughts of one so guarded was always a challenge but she liked riddles as much as anything. In contemplation she remembered the words he had said about a change in the wind. It was on a wind blowing echos over the city above them, that she knew at last why she had been brought to court. There was an unmistakable wine of a Pureblood's flute, the irregular clash of symbols, the most distant drone of a chanted processional borne on the wind. It was the sound of Fiedjan coming to the Fortress, the sound of visitors of noble blood. Their speech, their manner, every facet of them was seeped in tradition. And were they sending nobles to the Fortress they must send with them soldiers, Curators, and dire business. Coralm would need her to translate not speech, but culture. Without looking to Coralm she adopted his same expression. It was one of a duelist or a dancer about to take their place. And they stood of one mind as the gates to the Hall of the Speakers rumbled open to the roar of the court beyond.
╩ ╩
No comments:
Post a Comment