A/N: Hi! This is a story I started writing to get rid of my writers block. I'm taking Emporer Mage and making it third person limited to Numair. Why? Because I love Numair :). I'm starting from EM because my Wild Magic is lent out right now, and I didn't really want to start with Wolf Speaker, so I chose EM. I hope I do it justice!
P.S. I am fully aware that there are other stories like mine that take one of the books and make it Numair-centric, and I fully encourage you to read them, too. There's one specifically that I really enjoyed called Two Weeks in Carthak by Sonnet Lacewings. Her stories are amazing.
Disclaimer: I do not own. Really.
Also, there is a point in this chapter where I mention Numair wanting to give Daine a book to write everything down. This idea is, regretfully, not mine. Please read Verity by muhnemma. It's wondrous!
Oh yes, and please excuse some typos
Numair Salmalìn shifted uncomfortably. This was not what he would call one of the better days of his life. Not only was he about to return to the land he had once fled in order to preserve his life, but he was also squashed in a stuffy cabin with at least a dozen other people, fighting seasickness.
Noticing his discomfort, the girl beside him moved over as far as she could on the bunk they were currently sitting on, trying to give him more room. A blue-scaled creature on her lap gave a small squeak, and curled herself into a tighter ball in acquiesce.
Grateful and touched at the gesture, Numair smiled at his student and friend of two years. "Thank you, Daine," he said. Not daring to neglect the dragon, he added, "And you, Kitten."
"It's only for a bit," Daine tried to assure him.
Before he could ease her concern, however, the other small woman that sat next to him grumbled, "If we don't wrap this up soon, I will be only a 'bit.'"
Numair grinned in amusement. His old and dear friend the Lioness was not famous for her patience.
Once everyone had finally crowded into the room, Numair aided the other mages in the wards, a mix of mage fire stretching to cover the walls and door.
"No one can listen to us, magically or physically?" the old and slightly worn elder asked. Numair quickly assured him the affirmative, as the other mages nodded in support. Duke Gareth of Naxen smiled. "Then we are safe indeed."
The room fell into a serious attention. Now business began.
"Let me remind all of you one last time: be very careful regarding you actions while we are here. Do nothing to jeopardize our missions. The emperor is willing to make peace, but that peace is in no matter secure," the Duke said sternly, addressing the Tortallan group one last time before they were to dock at the mouth of the Zekoi. "If negotiations fall through due to an error on our parts, the other Eastern Lands will not support us. We will be on our own, and Carthak will be on us.
"We need this peace. We cannot match the imperial armies and navy –" Numair grimaced at the Duke's words. He knew all too well the might of Carthak's armies; he had been there as Ozorne had been mustering it. "—any more than we can match imperial wealth. In a fight on Tortallan soil, we might prevail, but a war of any kind would be long and costly, in terms of lives and in terms of resources."
The violet-eyed lady knight scowled. "Do we have to bow and scrape and tug our forelocks then, sir? We don't want to seem weak to these southerners, do we?" Trust Alanna to be concerned of that.
Duke Gareth shook his head and replied, "No, but neither should we take risks – particularly not you," referring to Alanna's well-known temper. The duke continued, "Go nowhere we are forbidden to go. Do not speak of freedom to the slaves. However we may dislike the practice, it would be unwise to show that dislike publicly." Numair suppressed a sigh. Another thing he would have to deal with while there, deeper than the others.
As the duke continued to list cautions, Numair pondered the covert plans he was a part of. Lindhall, his old teacher and friend, had been helping to smuggle slaves out of the country for decades, and recently the crowned prince, who had become Lindhall's new student, had apparent became involved in a brewing uprising from various disgruntled lords, workers, and scholars. Numair himself would be helping extensively in both during his stay in Carthak. I just can't resist danger, can I? Numair thought dryly.
He returned his attention to the duke in time to hear him warn the party of listening spells.
"Kitten will be able to detect listening spell," assured Numair, "I am not saying she can't be magicked, but most of the common sorceries won't fool her."
The small immortal straightened a little and chirped, always completely aware of what was being said around her. Numair always wondered at her intelligence, even now.
The duke smiled at Kitten, then focused on the young women holding her. "Daine, be careful. You'll be on your own more than the rest of us, though it's my hope that if you can help his birds. The emperor will let you be. Those birds are his only weakness, I think."
Numair silently agreed. Even as boys Ozorne was especially protective of his exotic aviary. Still, he couldn't help but gaze at his student with worry. Daine was more than his apprentice and ally; she was the close, dear friend that shared his enthusiasm for learning 9if not for overly long scriptures), put up with his eccentric and sometimes scattered mind frame, kept him line many times a day, and so much more. She had become one of the most, if not the most, important thing to Numair, and the threat that she might be harmed by the Emperor Mage of all people made him fraught with worry.
"You understand the rules?" Lord Martin interrupted Numair's ponderings. "No childish pranks. Mind your manners, and do as you're told." He spoke down to Daine as if she was a child. Numair suppressed his exasperation. He knew well the narrow-minded and the superior-like attitude of most nobles. Lord Martin, unfortunately (unlike George) was not an exception.
Kitten, however, made no attempt to keep in her indignation, and let out a squawk of disapproval. Numair swiftly but gently silenced her while calmly defending his friend.
"Daine understands these things quite well. I trust her judgment, and have done so on far more dangerous missions than this."
In the corner of his eye, he saw Alanna nod in agreement.
"We would not have brought her if we believed otherwise," Duke Gareth assuaged the tension. He changed the subject of his concern to Numair, "Remember, Master Numair, you, too, must be careful. The emperor was extraordinarily gracious to grant a pardon to you, and to allow you to meet with scholars at the palace. Don't forget the conditions of that pardon. If he catches you in wrongdoing, he will be able to arrest, try, even execute you, and we will be helpless to stop him."
Numair gave him a crooked smile. As if he could ever forget why he was being allowed to come back (for better or for worse). "Believe me, Your Grace, I don't plan to give Ozorne any excuse to rescind my pardon." Flashes of the time at his imprisonment appeared before his chocolate eyes. "I was in his dungeons once, and see no reason to repeat the experience."
That seemed to appease Duke Gareth for the time being. He then moved on to his parting statement and dismissal. Numair and Alanna filed out of the room as quickly as possible, eager to be free from the cramped and stuffy room. They parted ways in the corridor, going to their separate rooms to change out of travel clothes before the boat docked.
In his room, Numair stripped his wrinkled clothes and donned a silk shirt and breeches. He let out his springy mass of black hair, put the standard lotions in it (ignoring a paranoid side of him that mocked him for his vanity), and smoothed it back into a horsetail, as usual. He kept the jewelry minimal, keeping the ruby drop in his ear (a simple protective jewel), his opal pendant necklace, and a ring on his forefinger.
Finally, he slipped into the black robe he normally did his best to avoid wearing. Knowing, however, it was expected at this occasion for mages of the university to wear robes of their station, Numair couldn't escape it. This time, though, Numair was less reluctant to put it on. Usually his modest self detested the unwanted gaping attention it brought, but today, it gave Numair the small boost of confidence he needed to stride upstairs to the deck and finally face the country he had ran from eight years ago.
The mage gazed at the shore getting nearer by the minute. His first sight of Carthak after so long was not what he had expected, though perhaps he should have. Dog, cats, and all the other land animals that could make it to the harbor lined the docks, while every seabird imaginable roosted on every inch of mast and sails on each boat. Silently and eerily they gazed at Numair's vessel.
Numair smiled and silently thanked Daine for unknowingly taking some of the tension of what would have been a stressful reunion. Carthak did not seem so intimidating now that Daine's influence over it was so obvious. Numair even noted with some amusement that the delegation waiting on the galley was eyeing the animals with terror.
But even after that odd sight, Numair couldn't help but fall back to a somber mood. That galley would soon take him to a place he hadn't wanted to return to for many years, if ever: the imperial palace—his former best friend's domain.
Before he could brood for long, however, the animal he had just been observing broke into a loud, echoing welcome. Numair knew Daine must have come on deck. He watched the Carthakis in vicinity of the harbor all simultaneously make the Sign over their chests. Numair felt a small swell of pride. The last time he had been here, people believed wild magic to be an old wives tale. Now those same people must experience the consequences of their chosen ignorance.
Soon, however, Numair was brought back to his brooding. He recalled other elements of his life in Carthak other than Ozorne. There were other classmates, who he might have though as friends ten years ago, but now Numair knew it was really a bond of convenience, a weak desire to be acquainted with a black-robe mage, easily severed when Ozorne issued the warrant for Numair's arrest. There were old lovers; Numair wondered if any married. He knew he would most likely still flirt with them should the occasion rise, but otherwise Numair felt nothing but disinterest and apathy. These days he cared less and less about the flings he would normally partake often in. Maybe he was growing out of them. Numair frowned at that thought. Was he really becoming so old?
Any other acquaintance he might have had in Carthak would be gone by now. Even if they had remained, Numair doubted he would rejoice in seeing them. After all, Numair Salmalìn was so much different from Arram Draper. Arram was gone, and Numair was here to stay. He had new friends, real friends. He had a life here. While Arram had depended on the emperor for his luxurious lifestyle, Numair lived a self sufficient, more-than-comfortable living, where the country depended on him as well as the other way around.
While this mental defining comforted him slightly, Numair couldn't release all his tension as he gripped the boat's railing, watching as the harbor drew nearer. However, he managed to keep his face smooth and expressionless; this was his own, personal test of control, for should he fail, Numair feared he might end up collapsing on the deck from the stress.
Daine chose that moment to appear by his side after her silent conversation with the animals. Numair realized that the animals were now all gone, leaving the Carthakis to wipe their sweaty faces with clammy hands. For all she only as tall as his shoulder, she brought a soothing, reliable presence to comfort him with.
"Are you alright?" she spoke softly, "Is something wrong?"
"No, magelet," he said just as quietly, "And I am as well as may be expected. I can't say which prospect makes me more apprehensive—that of meeting old enemies, or old friends." He didn't even try to keep things from Daine. She had earned more than that. That, and she would see straight through him anyway. Numair had started to believe she had been spending too much time with the Lioness.
"Old enemies, surely?"
Numair smiled to himself. Daine's simple mindset often proved to be very refreshing. This time, unfortunately, to adopt it would be more of a wishful rather than practical method.
"I don't know. I was very different. And you know what the wise men say—'Only birds can return to their old nests,'" he said, reciting an old proverb.
Mentally, he shook himself. It doesn't do to dwell on such things.
He turned to look at his student for the first time since the cabin meeting. He was pleasantly surprised. "Mithros bless," he smiled, "You look very pretty." That was an understatement. Numair realized with some sadness that the child he had met as a hawk those years ago no longer existed. Beside him now was a beautiful, mature, young lady who he had come to depend on through thick and thin. Though she might not need me anymore, he thought sadly, I really am getting old.
Color rose in Daine's cheeks. "You think so really? I know I don't hold a candle to Alanna, or the queen—"
He stopped her with his hand. Another refreshing attribute of Daine's was how she managed to stay humble and modest, unlike most other court ladies. Thus, Numair knew he was safe to complement her without fear that her vanity might increase or she might misunderstand.
"That isn't strictly accurate. The Lioness is one of my dearest friends, but she is not and exemplar of female beauty. Years and experience have given her charm, and her eyes are extraordinary, but she is not beautiful. Queen Thayet is astoundingly attractive, it's true, but you have your own—something."
In the back of his mind, Numair couldn't help but wonder why he was delivering this compliment like a scholar, rather than using his usual flattery. It was immediately suppressed, however, before Numair could think much of it.
He studied Daine as she giggles, her laughter lighting up striking storm-grey eyes made brighter by her dress. "You should wear blue more often. It brings out matching shades in you eyes."
A voice joined their talk. "I heard that about my looks." Numair winced, praying the Lioness hadn't taken too much offense. "I'll get you later." Numair flickered his eyes towards the sword that hung around her waist. He grinned, though, at her playful manner.
"You do look good," she told Daine.
Daine's cheeks darkened once more. "Thanks. So do you."
Now, the ship was just about to dock. The rest of the delegation, having dressed up, joined them on the deck. Numair tightened his grip on the rails. Soon, he would step foot on the place that had, for a time, invaded his nightmares.
He thought he felt Daine tug his sleeve, and he half listened as she requested to speak with him privately, but the request flew out of his mind almost immediately. He watched as they passed various Carthaki ships, their structures uncomfortably familiar. As if to match his thoughts, a gong sounded across the harbor, ringing with a tone of finality that marked Numair's return to Carthak.
"His Imperial Highness, Kaddar Gazanai Iliniat, Head of the House Khazoi, Prince of Siraj—"
Numair inwardly sighed. In the first few moments of his return, all he had done was listen to overly long introductions. Sometimes, Numair found himself truly despising diplomacy.
Tuning out the rest of the prince's long title, Numair studied the boy he would be working with with Lindhall. For the most part, Numair couldn't read him very well. The Prince kept his face expressionless. A true diplomat, Numair thought wryly.
When the mage was introduced, Numair saw a flicker of recognition in Kaddar's paint-framed eyes, and watched as his eyes darted swiftly towards the Carthaki delegation. Numair his face front, but he was itching to observe who was among the Southern party, and mentally kicked himself for not thinking to look before. The price of being too self-occupied, I suppose, he thought.
The prince, having quickly composed himself, nodded to Numair's bow, said his routine formal greeting, and dismissed him, giving nothing away.
Numair quickly rejoined the line of Tortallans and immediately scanned over the Carthaki ambassadors and scholars.
There was Master Chioké, who Numair knew to be Ozorne's head mage. Numair took note of and memorized his Gift's essence. There was Duke Etiakret, another formidable person to be wary of.
Numair scanned through the rest of the Carthakis, recognizing some and not others. Finally, his eyes rested on a very familiar and welcomed face. Numair grinned at the sight of his old mentor and friend, Lindhall Reed.
Mustering his patience to greet him, Numair turned his attention back to the introductions just in time to see Daine and Kit walk up to the prince. The formal introductions were made, when Kaddar began to inquire about Kit and dragons. Numair watched as the royal was gently scolded for getting carried away, then listened as he offered to guide Daine around the sights. Numair bristled slightly at the prince's clearly reluctant tone, but let it pass.
Finally, the other ambassadors were introduced. Numair made sure to remember each face and name and any special attributes. At last, the herald announced Lindhall. He and Numair embraced fiercely. At the very least, I know there is one friend that was a true companion during my time here, thought Numair, mood brightened considerably.
"Arram," Lindhall greeted, "Welcome, if that is the proper word."
"I'm surprised you remembered our arrival," Numair teased. His voice was somewhat hoarse with emotion. "I thought I'd have to root you out of your work room."
"No, no. I have a good assistant, better than you were. She keeps track of everything. Unfortunately, she's about to go live with the merfolk and study their culture. I hear they're moving in all along the Tortallan coast. I'd thought they'd live in rookeries, like sea lions, but their nature appears to be more tribal. And you are Arram's student," Lindhall said, practically in one breath. Numair saw Daine jump at Lindhall's sudden address to her and inwardly chuckled. He had almost forgotten Lindhall's tendency to attempt to say everything he was thinking without break. Numair was accustomed to his old teaching master's frequent and sudden changes in subject, but it appeared his own student was not.
"He wrote me so much about you," Lindhall continued, "He says you know how bats avoid objects and catch prey. When I was a student I incurred censure when I hypothesized that they do it with the manipulation of sound, and Arram said you proved that to be true." Numair smiled. He often wondered at the enormity of questions and conflicts Daine could easily settle in the educational community. Soon, I'll have to convince her to write everything down. There would be several scholars who would treasure her writings, Numair thought. It was also nice to see his current student and his former teacher get along.
Daine gave a sweet smile of her own before beginning to answer, "Well, yes. They squeak at things. Their ears move separately, to gather in what they hear, and each sound has a meaning—"
"I don't like to interrupt," Numair reluctantly cut in, "but, Lindhall, I have questions that require answers. Forgive me, both of you." He hated doing it, but he had quite a few things to discuss that could only be talked of outside the palace.
After stopping Lindhall from once more becoming immersed in learning, this time about whales, Numair finally managed to drag him away.
Off to a corner of the galley, Numair cast a simple spell that would avert anyone's eyes and ears from the duo.
"I must congratulate you, Numair, on your luck in your student. The things you can learn from her…" Lindhall trailed off wistfully.
Numair grinned, "Now that you've met her, you have an excuse to correspond with her directly, rather than sending your numerous inquiries through me."
"Hmm, yes, very true."
At that moment, there was a shout, and the army camps along the bank saluted the passing imperial galley loudly. The two scholars grimaced. As if they needed reminders of the threat Carthak posed.
"Lindhall, was my package safely delivered?" Numair said lowly, switching the subject to the serious matters that were the reason Numair pulled Lindhall away in the first place.
Lindhall's voice lost its distant tone. "Yes. I have locked it away in a safe place at the university. However, I hope you won't need it."
Numair sighed, "Nor I. But with Ozorne, I must take every precaution I can."
Lindhall nodded. "I have new routes for you as well, in preparing for the worse. I'll transfer them to you later."
Numair gave his own nod. "Lindhall, I noticed that His Highness recognized my name—"
"Yes, I have informed Kaddar prior to this that you had agreed to aid us."
"During our correspondence, you were vague on exactly what you needed help with. All you mentioned was a seditious—"
"Not here, Arram. It's too risky," Lindhall cut off.
"Numair, please," Numair corrected. "I will try to procure some opportunity for me to sneak away to the university. When I do, inform Kaddar to meet there as well."
"Of course. I—"
There was a loud gasp. Numair turned in time to see brown curls dive off the galley and into the murky water. Together, Lindhall and Numair ran to the galley's edge, where the prince stared in shock as the girl swam towards what looked like a drowning monkey, some crocodiles surrounding it.
"What happened, Your Highness?" Lindhall asked the prince.
The bewildered boy replied, "I don't know. One moment I was telling her about crocodiles, and the vicious creatures they were—"
"I thought I taught you more open-mindedness than that," Lindhall frowned.
Kaddar's skin got darker, but he went on, "The next moment, she cried out to the crocodiles, and dove in!"
By this time, Daine had reached the animal, and was soothing it. The crocodiles were swimming away.
"So I suppose all that's been said about her powers are true," Kaddar remarked.
"Yes, of course," Numair said calmly. The prince jumped at Numair's reply, but the mage ignored it. Instead, he reached out a hand, sparkling black fire spilling out of it and soaring to wrap around Daine. Gently, Numair used his magic to pick her and the animal out of the water, and safely back on to the deck. There she stood, sopping wet, still cradling the creature in her arms. Her face was a bright, cherry red. Around them, various people murmured or chortled. As for Numair, he was unsurprised. He knew when it came to an animal in need, Daine forgot what would be prudent in regard to her surroundings.
He made his way over to his student, who looked mortified.
"Hush, Kit," he murmured to the dragon that was gently scolding her. She fell silent.
"Are you alright?" he asked the girl.
She nodded, keeping her face down. "I'm fine. Humiliated but fine." She stroked the wet, trembling creature in her hand. "This little one, however, I think is traumatized."
"It's a pygmy marmoset, I believe," said Lindhall, who had come to join them, "imported from the Copper Isles. Nobles often have rare pets sent to them from overseas."
Daine nodded. "He was drowning because that boy put a collar on him that weighed twice as much as he." She stroked it again, calming it down, before looking pleadingly up to Numair. "Numair, I'm so sorry, but I couldn't help it. He was about to be eaten, and—"
"Shh, magelet, calm down. You saved a life. That's something to be proud of," he told her kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Pay no mind to these people. They'll forget it by supper."
"But I offended the prince—"
This time, Lindhall spoke. "You didn't. At least, he won't be offended by an act that saved an animal, if he is to continue to be my student."
Daine looked at the two mages with gratitude.
Gently, Numair swept her wet hair back and led her to the corner he and Lindhall were in previously, away from prying eyes. "Come, we have almost reached the palace. We'll get you washed and dried in no time."
Numair sighed, looking about his room. He had handed Daine over to the slaves in the ladies' quarters and then was sent to his room to prepare for the evening, where they were to be introduced to the Emperor Mage himself. Numair had bathed, and now, in his shift he examined the quarters he would be staying in for a predicted two weeks. It was simple in structure, but lavishly decorated, as he expected. The most noteworthy feature of the room was the stuffed king vulture in one corner. Numair frowned, and was glad it was in his room, rather than Daine's.
Sitting down, Numair sunk into the bed. He was really here. He was really in Carthak, in the imperial palace, no less, and he was moments away from seeing the best friend who had betrayed him all those years ago.
Numair sighed again. "Goddess give me strength."
Definitely not one of the better days of his life.
A/N: So, what do you think?
Please review!