Meeting The Mage
Professional Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Song of the Lioness trilogy, the Immortals quartet, or any of the characters named therein. I do not own rights to the setting of Tortall or even the general situations surrounding Numair's origins. All of these rights are held by the incomparable Tamora Pierce. I make no money from writing or publishing this story.
Personal Disclaimer: As you already know if you read the summary, this is just my idea of what happened to get Numair to Tortall and in the situation he was in at the beginning of Wild Magic. I grew up with the Immortals series and was very disappointed upon discovering Song of the Lioness that Numair had no part in it. That being said, I know Tamora Pierce is getting ready to publish her own trilogy (!) about Numair and I also want to publicly state that the two previously-mentioned series are the only ones by T.P. that I have read, so I may have missed some details. Anyway, here you go:
Chapter One
"All of this opulence is disgusting," Alanna complained, throwing her comfortably travel-worn pack onto the lush covers of the feather bed. She scoffed at the soft ploof noise let out as the pack sank into the thick comforter.
"I wouldn't be too sure," her husband said, settling onto the bed with a wide grin. "Makes a nice change. I'm too old to be sleepin' on the ground, darlin'."
"Bite your tongue, George." Alanna set hands on her hips and glared. "All of that nonsense aside, what are we supposed to do? What are we even doing here? Neither of us are diplomats! I'm a knight, and you-"
"And I am the one and only ex-Rogue, and I am tough and realistic enough to take care of both of us in any way necessary." George held up a hand, stifling Alanna's complaints before she could really get going. "I know you're plenty tough and a good bit realistic, but that pesky Oath of Chivalry gives you guidelines for behavior that I know you take seriously. Fortunately, I have no such qualms. In short, I am basically the perfect partner."
Trying not to laugh at his wink and overly-flourishing bow - impressive even while reclining - Alanna crossed her arms. "That doesn't do anything to help us now! We can fight our way out of anything, but that's not what we're supposed to do. Why are we, of all people, the ones who are here?"
George rose from the bed and gripped her shoulders until Alanna fell into an uneasy silence, then smoothed his hands down her arms until he was clasping her small hands in his larger grasp. "We are here, my darlin' Lioness, because your friend King Jonathan trusts you enough to be the one who gets this 'foreign relations' thing off of the ground."
She sighed. "But why us? And why here? I know Jon's always been an ambitious ruler, but why take on our strongest enemy first? Tortall and Carthak have always been enemies. That's not something that can be fixed in one week-long diplomatic mission, even if it somehow is a success."
"If you think about it, his plan does make sense. When you're in a position of uncertain power, you want to make sure that your biggest threat isn't going to come after you while you're dealin' with the little guys. By sendin' us to take care of Carthak first, Jon gets to focus on the other minor enemies without havin' to look over his shoulder all the time."
Alanna grinned and fluttered eyelashes at her husband. "You know I love it when you talk Rogue to me."
"Hush," he returned with a smile. "Go to bed, Alanna. We meet Ozorne in the mornin'."
Rubbing at the knot of nerves that had immediately formed in her stomach, Alanna groaned. "And you just killed any hope I had of getting a good night of sleep."
"It's only a tour of Carthak, darlin'. All we have to do is smile and look interested in whatever the Emperor feels like lettin' us look at."
It seemed that the first thing Emperor Ozorne wanted them to look at was himself, and rightfully so. The ruler was dazzling in all senses of the word. It seemed every inch of his skin was gilded or encrusted with gems, and when he moved, it was enough to stun the eye momentarily. The Lioness knew from her dealings with royals far more traditional than Jon that it was considered rude to look a king or emperor in the face unless invited to do so. For the first time in her life, Alanna was thankful for this rule. Emperor Ozorne's flashy fashion made it difficult to focus on what one was saying, and she needed to keep her wits about her if she was to do credit to Tortall and its ruler.
At the moment, the Emperor was speaking about his life in Carthak. Arbitrary as the subject seemed, Alanna waited patiently for him to make his point. Important men - and men who thought they were important - always had a point to make. She had no doubt that the entirety of this speech had been scripted to the Emperor's specifications and no responses on her or George's part would make any change to the planned conversation.
"-but We find it to be a rather diverting pastime. You must be sure to visit the training fields while you are here. We are aware that you have seen your fair share of Tortallan facilities, but We are sure you will concede that Carthaki fields are far superior." Alanna gritted her teeth and nodded at this, the tenth such derisive comment he had made during their morning meeting. Honestly, if it hadn't been for George's twinkling hazel eyes, she would never have made it this far without an outburst.
Her gratitude for her husband's presence rapidly disappeared as George cleared his throat. Ignoring Alanna's frantic shaking of her head, he started, "Beggin' your pardon, Majesty, but we were under the impression that we would be escorted around Carthak."
"Of course," Ozorne said smoothly. "But We are singular in Our resolve to become more than a simple Emperor. We have decided to train as a mage as well, through Our most prestigious academy. We find Ourselves to be oftentimes devoted to Our studies, and thus have decided to assign you alternate guides around Our fair capital."
"That sounds wonderful, Emperor Ozorne," Alanna said, profoundly grateful that their week in Carthak wouldn't be spent entirely in the imposing man's presence.
"Indeed. As your guides, We have to chosen two of the most promising students in Our academy. Both have spent copious amounts of time exploring Carthak and should prove capable of showing you the fascinating and beautiful parts of Our city. If they should become unequal to the task, We beg that you should inform Us during Our nightly dinners, during which We shall also expand upon what you have explored that day and offer Our own humble suggestions for activities to be performed on the following days. We trust that shall prove satisfactory."
George and Alanna nodded to this, not seeing it for the dismissal it was until Emperor Ozorne beckoned toward the guards posted at the doors. "Guards, you may now show Lady Alanna and Baron Cooper to their guides."
Surrounded by guards as they were, Alanna and George didn't have the privacy to communicate with each other as freely as they would wish, but they did manage a shared glance, one filled with disdain for Ozorne, trepidation for what was to come, and a new appreciation for King Jonathan and his fairly lax court.
The couple was escorted into the grand and imposing hall containing the main gates to the palace. Amid the shining floors and painting-bedecked walls stood two young men. To Alanna's amused observation, they seemed to be complete opposites. One young man stood in the palace as though it were his proper right to be there. He was drawn up to his rather unimpressive height, elegantly simple clothes neatly smoothed over his athletic frame. His trimmed golden-brown hair was combed carefully away from his face, exposing eyes that had a disconcerting air of calculation. Alanna disliked him immediately.
On the other hand, his partner stood fidgeting uncomfortably while he waited for the guards to escort Alanna and George to the spot where he waited. His black hair was longer and Alanna would have bet her last copper that the unruly locks hadn't seen a comb in a week. He was tall, almost incredibly so, though his frame was awkwardly hunched so that his height wasn't immediately noticeable. There was a hint of stubble across his cheeks and chin, complementing his rumpled and slightly mismatched clothes. All of this was more to Alanna's liking than the other man's practiced perfection, but this one's face, however, was what made her sure they could be friends. This man's eyes… They were dark and studious, careful and curious. They were the eyes of someone who would spend more time thinking and reflecting than speaking of his own opinions. They almost reminded her of George's hazel gaze in their openness - though Goddess help him if they share more than that, she thought with some amusement.
"Greetings!" the lighter-haired man said joyously, stepping forward to meet the visiting pair. "And welcome to the wondrous courts of Emperor Ozorne! I am Tristan Staghorn, and it will be my pleasure to guide you around Carthak this week. It is an honor to meet you, Lady and Baron. This is my partner, who will also be accompanying us around the city."
He elbowed the taller man rather harder than Alanna thought necessary, and he muttered something she didn't quite catch. "Louder, Draper," Tristan said with a derisive laugh. "They need to know your name, common though it is."
"Please forgive me," the man apologized, soft voice warm with the same welcome that showed in his eyes. "I am Arram Draper."
George clapped him on the back as Alanna shook his hand. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Arram."
Alanna nodded. "And a fine name you have, sir, a fine name indeed." This was said with a bit of a glare in Tristan's direction, who looked shocked that these 'nobles' didn't share his disdain of the lower classes.
"Thank you," Arram said politely. "If you two are ready now, I believe that the Emperor and Tristan have quite the day planned."
With that graceful gesture, Tristan seemed to have regained his confidence and launched into the tour with gusto. Today, as he explained, they would take advantage of the warm weather and tour the riverside docks and markets of Carthak. With another sidelong glance, George warned Alanna to be watchful. The Carthaki docks were rumored to be extraordinarily dangerous for those without an accompaniment of armed guards. The Lioness nodded to her husband. She had brought a small, carefully-sharpened dagger along with her and it was cunningly concealed among the folds of her belted tunic.
Fortunately, there seemed no need for the Tortallans to defend themselves. There were robbers, thieves, and would-be criminals of all kinds lurking around the docks, easily recognized by Alanna and George - they had, after all, spent more than enough time around such people - but they were never bothered. If she had to hazard a guess, the Lioness would say that the criminals of Carthak knew better than to try attacking the guests of the Emperor.
In fact, there had only been a single time Alanna had needed to reach for the dagger. She and George had stepped away while Tristan and Arram attempted to bargain passage onto a surveyor's boat for the afternoon. In a short period of time, the couple had found themselves surrounded by a number of unsavory-looking characters.
"Who d'ya think these folks might be?"
"Dunno, but they don't look Carthaki to me."
"Reckon they might be tourists?"
"S'possible. Also possible they ain't paid their tourism taxes yet."
"Mmm. That ain't good. Gotta get them taxes paid or bad stuff happens."
"Say, oughtn't we do 'em a favor an' collect what's due? Wouldn't want 'em to be in danger longer'n they has to."
"Now, now, boys," George drawled, stepping between his wife and most of the men. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of understandin'."
"Sure we can," the apparent leader of the group said agreeably. "Just turn over your belongin's to me an' my boys and we leave you two alone…" He trailed off, eyeing Alanna speculatively. "At leas', we leave you alone."
George laughed. "Honestly, fellas. You would have been better off trying to kill us both rather than single out this woman."
Alanna took advantage of the cover George was providing to unsheathe her dagger, but she was stopped by a new voice. "Surely the leader of the Carthaki Vipers is clever enough to avoid tangling with the Lioness herself."
The man turned, greeting the newcomer in a flat voice, "Draper. What d'ya think you're gonna do to keep these strangers safe?"
"Ordinarily, I would do everything I usually do to keep strangers safe, but in this circumstance, there is no need. These two are Baron George Cooper and Sir Alanna of Trebond and Olau, and they are to be considered personal guests of Emperor Ozorne for the duration of their diplomatic mission." One corner of Arram's wide mouth lifted in a half-smirk. "Surely you don't mean to disobey the orders of the Emperor himself?"
The leader spat on the ground and scowled at Arram. "Jus' wait until you're somewhere what you shouldn't be, then you'll be sorry right quick."
"Very well," Arram agreed. "But for the time being, I need these two to come with me."
"And? What're you waitin' for?" With a short, sharp whistle, the men surrounding the three pulled back and melted into the shadows. The leader lingered until last, and blew a kiss to Alanna. "I'll be catchin' up with you real soon, darlin'."
Alanna wouldn't have said anything, but George had proven to have a temper to equal her own under the right circumstances. At the sound of his endearment oozing from between the lips of another man, George's eyes flashed an irritated hazel. In a smooth motion, he had bent and picked up the head of a hammer that had been discarded in the street. In a moment, he had turned, aimed, and thrown the hammer's head as powerfully as possible. It hit where George had been aiming, if the smug look on his face was anything to go by, and the man's hand crumpled into a painfully unnatural position.
The man screamed and - grasping his clearly-broken hand - disappeared to wherever the rest of his group had gone, leaving Alanna and George to eye Arram questioningly. The tall man's tanned skin flushed slightly darker under their studying gazes. "Well, Arram… If I didn't know better, I would say you've encountered those men before."
Arram gave a shrug that was a little to casual to the trained eyes of his audience. "I'm not unfamiliar with them. I've been at the university for a long while and I like to wander the streets while I think. Unfortunately, that man likes to torment those who are weaker than himself, but on the far luckier side, I am not one of them. I have the power to defend myself and others if necessary, and do so on a semi-regular basis."
"What's that one's name?" George asked curiously, but Arram just shrugged again.
"I can't say that I've ever asked. Normally, we're far too busy trading blows and spells to ask many personal questions."
Alanna nodded understandingly. Familiar enemies were a disturbingly large part of her life. Arram shifted uncomfortably. "We had better be getting back to Tristan. He has managed to secure an afternoon tour of Carthak from the water and we must leave shortly if we are to return in time to have dinner with the Emperor."
Stifling a groan, Alanna rolled out of bed. If any of her old instructors could hear her complaining, especially after sleeping several hours on a soft bed, she would be guaranteed to do extra chores for at least a week. Try as she might, though, the knight found it nearly impossible not to complain. She and George were most of the way through their week of seeing the sights of Carthak and they were no closer to making any progress with the emperor. It was frustrating to her, especially considering her lack of diplomatic inclination.
They had seen a majority of the city. The group visited the training facilities, toured the palace, and thoroughly explored the university. This last was by far the most interesting day for Alanna and George. The two had discussed - in that odd way that couples discuss nearly everything - the relationship between Tristan and Arram. They had been angry for the young man. At first glance, Tristan and Arram seemed to have a friendship, though it was very aggressive and mostly toward Arram. The dark-haired man accepted the insults gracefully, despite how intense they got, but Alanna and George believed they figured out the source of the man's peace.
It had happened while they were touring the university. Tristan had glossed over a lot of the things anyone else would be interested in so that he could showcase his own work in the Department of War Magic. George, with his background in guerilla-style techniques, had been less-than impressed, but Alanna could appreciate the more complicated forms of battling that Tristan and his colleagues were creating. Her formidable mind immediately began working on ways to combat the innovative means of fighting, but Tristan seemed to notice her processing and steadily began to lower the number of details he was providing the Tortallans.
When they had finally left the Department of War Magic, Tristan had attempted to skip over Arram's work - somewhat easy to do, as Arram didn't work in any singular department - but George had asked outright where they could view some of his contributions. After a bit of persuading, Arram had led them to a display about agriculture.
"This is interesting," Alanna had mused, studying the clever use of multiple levels of land to increase an area's growing space. "How long did it take for you and your team to come up with it?"
Arram had blushed and reluctantly admitted, "It was only me, I'm afraid. I worked on this theory for only a few days, but it made quite the impression in the farming community."
"Oh, yes, quite a difficult feat," Tristan scoffed. "As if it takes anything more than two large words strung together to impress a farmer."
Eyeing Tristan levelly, Arram returned, "I wouldn't suggest telling them so, Tristan. In my studies of Carthaki agriculture, I've gained a profound respect for what these men and women do to provide this kingdom with food, and any way in which I can help them is a worthwhile investment of time and energy."
"So you can really grow more with that setup?" George asked, gesturing at the display.
"Most certainly. The variety of levels allows for a variety of crops to be grown in one small space, each with its own needs for sunlight, water, and temperature seen to individually. There can only be as much variance in these factors as there is in the environment in which they are to be grown, but with the addition of weather mages, so much more would be possible!"
"Weather mages? I'm sorry, I don't believe I follow," Alanna said apologetically, though she couldn't help but grin at Arram's enthusiasm and Tristan's sour expression.
Arram was nodding excitedly. "I have worked out the potential and if the Emperor could be persuaded to spare only a handful of weather mages to help with the agricultural fields, a plethora of flora could be produced here, some of which have never been grown in this country! To my way of thinking, growing food that will feed an entire country should have some significance above preparing for a war that could easily never happen. All respect to present company, of course," he added with a shallow bow in Tristan's direction.
The man was smiling unpleasantly. "Ah, my friend, perhaps I am not the one to whom you should be apologizing. I am sure the Lioness feels far differently than you about the merits of agriculture over war."
"As it happens," Alanna cut in sharply, "I agree with Arram about agriculture bearing the greater importance. Several of my friends fight beside me when necessary, but nearly everyone I know and love needs food to survive."
Tristan gave a tight smile and rapidly led the group from the area without responding. They weren't able to see any more of Arram's work during the day touring the university, but the bit of innovation they had seen was enough to convince them of one thing: despite Tristan's own considerable mind, Arram was the far more gifted of the two, and both were aware of this.
That was all yesterday, of course. Today, they had a somewhat pleasant day planned: a day exploring the markets of Carthak. Unfortunately, to beat the heat of the day, the markets opened roughly an hour before the sun rose and Alanna and George rose quite literally in the middle of the night. This being so, both were surprised to hear raised voices floating down the hallway and quickly decided to investigate.
"I know what the Emperor wants!" a now- familiar voice was shouting heatedly. "But he doesn't understand! These two are not nobles as he seems to believe them. They are far more similar to Carthaki commoners and undeserving of the treatment he insists on bestowing!"
A harsh female voice cut through Tristan's tirade. "Do you presume to know more than the emperor?"
Tristan let out a frustrated sigh. "Of course not, Gissa. But I do believe it best that a different guide be chosen." He snorted. "They seem to approve of Draper and he certainly returns the feeling. Allow him to tour them around by himself."
Whoever Gissa was, she sounded completely exasperated. "You of all people know why Arram Draper's contact with the Tortallans must be limited, especially without the supervision of one whose loyalty to the Emperor cannot be debated."
As Tristan reluctantly agreed to this, Alanna signaled George to slowly back away with her. When the two were at a safe distance, they began a hurried conversation in low whispers.
"Do you have any idea what their trouble with Arram is?" George asked.
"Not at all," she muttered back. "Jon didn't tell me anything about this. I mean, we hadn't met Arram before coming here, so why would they want to keep him from talking to us?"
"I can only think of a few possible reasons," George murmured thoughtfully, "and all of them bear further investigation. I believe it's time for us to take this situation into our own hands and stop bein' such well-behaved guests of the Emperor."
"What does that mean?" Alanna hissed, slightly concerned. The worried feelings only grew as she watched her husband turn back and stride casually into the room where they had planned to meet their guides before leaving for the day, the same room which now held Tristan and Gissa.
George gave a loud greeting. "Good mornin', all! I hope you slept half as well as I did." Alanna skidded into the room just in time to see the alarm on both mages' faces, but George didn't let on that the Tortallans noticed their nervousness.
"Tristan, I hope I can talk with you about somethin' that's been botherin' me," George started off seriously. Tristan's eyes widened as his face grew pale. "Maybe it would be better if we had only one guide today."
"Wh- What?" Tristan stammered.
George gave a wonderfully casual shrug. "I mean, if the markets here are anythin' like the ones back home, they'll be crowded like you wouldn't believe. I think we would have an easier time gettin' where we need to go if we had a smaller group than we have in the past. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course," Gissa said smoothly. "I will send a messenger to Arram right away and tell him that his presence is no longer required."
"Oh, there's no need," Alanna interrupted. "I think it would be better for everyone if Arram was to be our guide for the day rather than Tristan."
Gaze shooting daggers at the man, Gissa asked, "Have you found Tristan to be unsatisfactory, my Lady?"
"No. On the contrary, he's been remarkable, practically giving the tour on his own. George and I thought it would be best for him to have a day to relax and recover while we see the sights with Arram."
"That really isn't-" Gissa started.
At the same time, Tristan was saying, "Surely you would rather have someone-"
"We insist," George said firmly, speaking loudly enough to be heard over their protests.
Apparently realizing that they couldn't refuse this without seeming suspicious, Tristan and Gissa reluctantly agreed just as Arram arrived for the day. The tall mage wandered in, oblivious to the tension hanging thick in the air, and calmly asked if the Tortallans were ready to go. Gissa briefed him on the slight change in plans and their newly-decreased group was off to the markets of Carthak.
Arram didn't seem at all doubtful of their vague explanation for leaving Tristan behind, instead telling the two Tortallans that the trek to the markets would be a rather lengthy one as they were located a fair distance away. "Ozorne probably doesn't want any commoners clogging the streets in front of his palace," Alanna theorized in a whisper to George, who smirked in agreement.
The two had decided before Arram arrived that they would spend their walk trying to get information from him. They needed to ask subtle questions, find out if Arram was indeed a traitor to the Emperor and, if so, who he was actually working for. There was only one problem: Arram wasn't responding to any of it. George and Alanna had been subtly probing for nearly half an hour in their attempt to discover Arram's secrets, and it was getting them nowhere. Worse, they were nearly out of time. They were approaching the markets quickly, and the streets would be too crowded on the way back for the group to attempt any kind of private conversation.
Finally, Alanna and George dropped a little behind their lanky guide. "This isn't working," Alanna hissed. "Nothing we do is getting any kind of a response."
With a gleam in his eye, George nodded. "Then maybe it's time for us to force a response from him."
"George? George!" Alanna jogged to catch up with George's long strides, but he was already walking beside Arram by the time she arrived.
"So, Arram, I heard you're a traitor to the Emperor."
If Alanna was shocked by George's casual tone, it was nothing compared to Arram's expression as he processed the blunt question. His tanned face went pallid, his eyes grew incredibly wide, and he began visibly shaking. "I- Wh- I am not a traitor! I've been nothing but loyal to Emperor Ozorne, who has been one of my closest friends all my life! Who would say such a thing, and especially to two visiting dignitaries?"
"Calm down," Alanna soothed, glaring at her husband. "No one in particular said that you were a traitor, but we did overhear something… odd... this morning between Tristan and Gissa." She went on to explain what they had heard, but Arram couldn't explain the conversation, either.
"You're sure it was Gissa and Tristan?" They replied in the affirmative and Arram frowned. "I must confess that I don't know what they're talking about. I've never given any impression of being disloyal - at least, not to my knowledge." He raked a hand through his hair. "There are times I disagree with the Emperor, of course. Everyone disagrees with everyone eventually, but I've always been honest with Emperor Ozorne and made my case with him personally."
"Wouldn't that give an impression of bein' disloyal?" George asked, but Arram shook his head.
"If I'm disagreeing with the Emperor to his face, that wouldn't give me a very good motive to sneak around and betray him. I wouldn't worry about it too much, except… Well, people who are suspected of treason, especially against the Emperor himself, tend to disappear."
Alanna couldn't see her reflection, but she felt her face harden into a fierce expression. "You aren't going to disappear, Arram. At least, not as long as we're around." She couldn't explain how the Carthaki scholar had grown to mean so much to her in such a short amount of time, but he had, and she would go far to protect him.
One corner of Arram's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "That's very kind of you, Lioness, but you and the Baron won't be in Carthak much longer." Growing serious once more, he said, "When we get back to the palace, I'll do some digging and see what I can find out about all of this. There has to be an explanation, and a solution is sure to follow."
Having settled the situation, at least in Arram's mind, the mood of the group lightened considerably. A small, not-very-secret part of Alanna had always loved markets. Not necessarily for buying anything, but simply for the incredible amount of life they managed to pack into a small area. The colors, the sounds, the smells… They made life brighter, even in a place the Tortallans tended to associate with war and danger.
As they walked around the market, the trio kept up a lively conversation, laughing back and forth at jokes or having friendly debates. Alanna stopped at a vendor selling a crop of particularly large sunflowers. "Were these grown using weather mages, do you think?"
Arram raised a brow, studying the plants. "I don't believe so. With all of their colors and scents, flowers are trickier to grow than edible crops. I'm surprised you don't know that already."
She scowled up at him. "Believe it or not, we were so busy learning to use swords and ride horses that they must have completely forgotten to cover magical flower-growing in my classes. I should complain to the king, really."
"I knew that you didn't attend an academically-focused school, but I heard that your brother did. I'm surprised you aren't working more closely with them. I'm sure they would love to have the Lioness on board with some of the research they're undertaking, especially at the City of the Gods."
George laughed. "I don't think the university at the City of the Gods is going to be askin' my Alanna for anythin' else anytime soon."
"Wait, what?" Arram looked back and forth between Alanna and George. "There's a story here, and I must insist on finding out what it might be."
Alanna sighed irritatedly, but George could see the small smile playing around the corners of her mouth and leaned toward Arram conspiratorially. "Well, you see, a few months ago, the school was lookin' for support - financial support, you know." Arram nodded understandingly and George went on. "We got a couple of letters askin' for donations and such, but didn't pay much attention. She's got a lot goin' on at any time, so-"
Giving up all pretense of not listening, Alanna snapped, "Get on with it, George!"
Grinning obligingly, George said, "Eventually, Alanna got a personalized letter… and it was from someone tryin' their level best to guilt her into donatin' because she was guilty about what happened with Thom, bless his soul."
Arram gave a soft whistle. "That's disgraceful. Did she fall for it?"
"She most certainly did not," Alanna answered tartly. "In fact, George and I took a short journey so that I could express my… displeasure in person."
"I take it you've had no problems since then?" Arram asked with a grin.
"Not a one. Strange, ain't it?" George gave a conspiratorial wink as they all chuckled appreciatively.
Hours later, Alanna and George were enjoying their second-to-last night in Carthak. Well, 'enjoying' might be a strong word for the Lioness reluctantly admitting that Carthak wasn't completely terrible, but in all fairness, it had taken nearly thirty minutes of convincing by George to even get that concession.
Tragically, his gloating session was interrupted by a furtive knock on the door. Happy for the break, Alanna opened the door and was immediately thrown into a battle stance as someone tried to push into the room. A startled Arram was staring up at her from the floor, expression half-worried and half-laughing. "I need to speak with you," he whispered loudly. "It's a matter both urgent and private."
Alanna helped the tall man up and into the room, closing the door securely behind him. "George," Arram started. "I need-"
"To speak with us. Yeah, I heard. You've gotta be one of the worst people I've ever met for subtlety, and that includes my lovely wife."
Alanna glared at him before addressing Arram. "What did you need? If security is an issue, we need to be as quick as possible."
"Indeed," Arram agreed. "You two need to leave Carthak. Tonight."
The Tortallan couple stared at him blankly and the mage made a sound of pure frustration. "Did you hear me? Start packing and I'll explain while we work." With that, he grabbed the nearest pack and began stuffing random articles into it. Eventually, Alanna and George followed suit, albeit a little more neatly.
"When we returned to the palace this afternoon, I started my investigation into the accusations of my disloyalty, as I said I would. It was only a handful of hours ago that I began to receive information of the gravest sort: Emperor Ozorne is plotting against you. He's been drugging your drinks every night at dinner, watching to be sure that you consume them completely. The enchantment is a slow build, one which grows stronger with the length of exposure, and by tomorrow night's last dose, you would fall almost completely under its power.
"Ozorne wants the Yamani Pearls, a set of islands in the Emerald Ocean just south of Yamani. As of right now, they are under Tortallan control, but if their ownership were to be transferred to Carthak, they would make an excellent vantage point to deploy armies against your country. From all the intelligence I was able to gather, the enchantment would be set tomorrow night, and would force you to convince your king that the islands be given to Carthak as a sort of gesture toward peace between our countries."
He stopped his frantic packing and stared at Alanna and George, dark eyes serious. "You would be compelled to use any means necessary to convince him, up to and including regicide."
"And if we refused?"
"Any assertion of personal will is exceedingly rare, but if you did manage to retain your sense of morals well enough to refuse to do as he asked, the Emperor would likely have you both executed."
Alanna's mouth went dry. "I thank you for bringing us this information. Doesn't this put you terribly at risk of Ozorne's fury?"
Arram shrugged. "Perhaps, but it is what is right. I can do nothing else. Besides, my sources are well used to the need for secrecy. With any luck, I can evade notice by the Emperor when he begins searching for the reason you two disappeared so suddenly."
George finished the last pack and began slinging them across his shoulders. Alanna joined in and Arram pressed a small, jingling bag into her hand. "For your travels. I have set you passage back to the Inland Sea, though you may have to bribe the captain once more for his silence. I also managed to gather a few leads for ships that might carry you back to Tortall, even if the Emperor begins a public search for you two. I am sorry that I cannot do more, but we are so pressed for time…"
"Arram, we sincerely thank you," George said, shaking the younger man's hand. "I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here, but it wouldn't have been good."
Alanna shook his hand as well. "If you ever decide to leave Carthak, you would be more than welcome in Tortall. I'm sure the king would offer his protection and we would give you a place to live."
Smiling fondly, Arram shook his head. "I thank you for the offer. It is most gracious, but I have only a few months of school to finish before I am done. If I leave now, I will lose everything. Besides, I am under no real suspicion. When Tristan and Gissa said my loyalty was doubted, it was only because I wasn't part of the planning group."
While they talked, the group had steadily moved toward the door of Alanna and George's quarters. Arram studied it for a moment. "Once we leave this room, we cannot speak. We don't have to keep completely silent, but make as little noise as possible and I should be able to shield you long after we leave. I'll guide you to the riverboat port and then I'll have to leave you. It has truly been a pleasure."
The sentiment was returned from both of the Tortallans and the small group began making their careful way out of the palace of the soon-to-be Emperor Mage.
Author's Note - As a final announcement, I would like to say that this is Chapter One of my three-part Numair origin story. The following two chapters have already been written and will be posted tomorrow and Friday. Thank you so much for reading! I would truly love to hear any feedback you're comfortable giving and I hope you have a wonderful day!