THE REQUIEM: THE WORLD IN A DOWNWARD TILT
PART THREE: MALLOREA
Chapter Twenty Five: On Towards The West
"Is it changing again?" Sithli asked watching from behind her writing desk as Eridis paced yet again across the carpet, her eyes trained on the weave.
"It is. It's a very queer carpet. I can't figure out how it's doing it. Or who. Or if it's doing it all on its own." Eridis' face tightened then loosened again and she pressed her fingers to her temples in consternation.
"You should sit down." Sithli suggested. "There's no use in worrying over it. Come tomorrow, a carpet will be the least of our problems."
"Oh, that's true isn't it." She sank down into one of the deep burgundy chairs, tearing her eyes with visible effort away from the floor. "To be honest, I'm startled at how well your parents took the pronouncement."
"What's to be troubled over? A skirmish, a prophecy, a bit of expulsion, two shadowy figures—considering my family history it's practically par for the course."
"And according to your family history, the course was suppose to have ended before we were even born," Eridis pointed out. Her eyes flickered around the study. "Where has Urgar gone off to this afternoon?"
Sithli's lips quirked in a small smile. "Worried for our dear friend wandering around a Mallorean palace while being a Murgo?"
"I couldn't possibly be more worried than Urgar himself."
"You'd be surprised. Actually, he and father are getting along shockingly well." She couldn't stifle the laugh provoked by Eridis' long, disbelieving stare. "I know. I could barely fathom it myself. He's been placing himself underfoot throwing his urbanity around and charming everyone."
"Urgar is very good with the charm. When he wants to be."
Sithli smiled again but said nothing in reply. Silently, however, she realized that Eridis was right. Although Urgar could easily be the most irritating person among her retinue of friends, he could turn on his charisma at the drop of a hat. With the exception of a few of the proctors that he'd flouted and their close companions' occasional complaints about his flippancy, Sithli had never actually heard anyone utter a single bad word about their Murgo friend. For the first time, Sithli paused to wonder just how much of Urgar's casual charm was his real face and how much was deceit. How much of his tendency to be exasperatingly difficult was his real face? Abruptly, she remembered that period when she'd been absorbed and irritated by her unsuccessful research of theflamingdrake and Urgar's provocation of her, that caused her to ignore him for several days after. It was just after then that he went missing, supposedly while investigating Menary himself. She got the sudden suspicion that he'd deliberately irritated her, to get her to shun him exactly as she had. The more she thought about it, the more positive she became of the theory.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, the study door opened and the Murgo prince strode in. Someone had lent him fresh clothes, or he had purchased them during the last few days, and he was smartly dressed in Mallorean attire, a sash across his chest indicating his rank. His hair, so dark as to be practically blue, had been freshly washed and was still slightly damp. It had been brushed back and the style emphasized the sheer geometric nature of his face. His angular amber brown eyes, his long narrow nose, his pointed chin.
He was buttoning his cuffs as he entered, clearly having come straight to find them after getting dressed. "You'll want to come down to the throne room, I imagine. I was just-why is Sithli glowering at me like that?"
"You're a sneaky fellow, aren't you Urgar," Sithli accused, still caught up in her theory about his deliberate tossing of himself from her good graces for his own purposes.
Urgar looked surprised. "You heard about the letter? How?"
"What letter?" Eridis asked curiously.
The Murgo prince glanced over at Eridis then backed at Sithli. When he saw the same confusion mirrored on her face as well, he smiled. "Come down to the throne room and you'll see."
Obediently and driven by curiosity, Sithli and Eridis followed Urgar from the study and through the long corridors of the palace down to the throne room. Sithli heard the occupants of the room before she saw them. From down the hall she caught the whip of a voice, raised in anger, demand, "Just what is the meaning of this Zakath?"
The voice was entirely unfamiliar, but it contained the rasp of a Murgo accent. Although his voice was of considerably lower volume, she could still hear her father reply, "Calm yourself Urgit." And the sound of Murgo King's name, Sithli's head snapped around and she turned to stare at Urgar. Her friend was grinning broadly, looking enormously pleased with himself. A bit too pleased.
"What. Did you. Do?" Sithli demanded, enunciating each word with deliberate care.
If possible, Urgar's smile became even more satisfied and entirely puckish. "I told you I sent a letter to my father."
"What did the letter say?" Sithli asked, at the same time that from inside the throne room, the Murgo King boomed,
"You hold my son hostage and demand that I be calm? Age apparently hasn't tempered your nerve." Flatly, the Emperor of Mallorea replied "But I see it's increased yours."
Sithli was merely gaping at Urgar in astonishment. "You told your father we were holding you hostage?"
Whistling a short tune to himself, Urgar shoved at the throne room door and it swung open. All eyes swung towards them immediately. Inside the chamber, Sithli's parents sat atop the dais. Standing before it was a short man, with a long pronounced nose. His shoulders were rigid and tense and atop his head was seated a gold crown. The woman beside him was slim, beautiful, and had her sleek hair hung down the line of her back like a dark wave of midnight. She too wore the emblem of state atop her head and although she was visible more composed than the man she stood next to, there was a combative air to her stance. They were the monarchs of Cthl Murgos—King Urgit and Queen Prala, Urgar's parents. And both of them swiveled, turning to stare in surprise as their son entered the throne room, striking a casual pose in the doorway.
"Rumors of my mortal peril," Urgar said into the silence that had descended in the chamber, "may have been greatly exaggerated."
King Urgit's face turned red "You… you…" he spluttered. Queen Prala was more composed. She gave her son an icy look, eyes narrowing and asked, "What's going on Urgar?"
Urgar smiled affectionately at his mother, then turned to regard Emperor Zakath. "I hope you'll forgive my father, your imperial majesty. I may have misinformed him somewhat." Zakath lifted an eyebrow and Urgar turned back to his parents. "There is a small matter of life and death in the balance, so don't be too disappointed. It just has nothing to do with his imperial highness here. You see father, all the tales of adventure and prophecy you told me growing up went a bit to my head and, wouldn't you guess it, I managed to get myself embroiled in an epic quest of my own."
"Urgar," King Urgit said in a level tone that begged for patience, "if you don't start speaking clearly, you really will end up in a dungeon. Mine."
Sithli decided to step in at that point. Jabbing her elbow sharply into the Murgo prince's side, she pushed past him through the door way and into plain view. Politely, she curtsied to the Murgo king and queen. King Urgit was a wiry man, lacking the muscular build of most murgos, but instead was lean and toned much like his son. He wasn't a very tall man and he had a long, defined nose set beneath his eyes. Queen Prala was beautiful, her rich hair as black as Urgar's and coiled up behind a gold crown set with rubies. Her angular eyes were dark, but alight with proud emotion, though they had narrowed dangerously on her son.
"Your majesties," Sithli said, "I'm Imperial Princess Sithli." She didn't bother extolling on her long list of titles and instead gestured towards Eridis who had also stepped into the throne room, "This is Dame Eridis of Dal Zerba. We were both classmates and close friends of Crown Prince Urgar at the University of Melcena."
"Friends?" King Urgit echoed in astonished disbelief, glancing over his shoulder at Zakath.
The Emperor of Mallorea shrugged, blank faced. "Your guess is as good as mine, Urgit." Zakath said coolly.
"I'm not fully aware of the contents of the letter that Urgar sent you. I had thought he would have explained the situation, but it appears I was wrong." Sithli turned her head to give Urgar a meaningful glare.
Urgar smiled at her, unphased by the look. "If the Manners Mistress saw you looking at me like that, she'd warn you that your face might get stuck that way."
"You're as troublesome as Nathalie," Sithli retorted. "We should take away your speaking privileges too."
"As if that would stop him," Eridis observed with a straight face.
"And deprive you both of my urbane wit? I wouldn't dare. Besides it turned out much better than Nathalie's adventure. No sailors, no tavern sword fight, and Sithli hasn't thrown a single knife."
"Yet," Sithli corrected.
"You see, father," Urgar spoke in a cavalier tone, artfully turning one wrist. "I got so enthralled by those stories you and mother told me about your youth, that I decided to get involved in a grand adventure of my own. And wouldn't you know it, my ambitions just happened to coincide most timely with Her Imperial Highness' discovery of a prophetic novel. Admittedly I got slightly waylaid at one point by a sorceress who wouldn't take no for an answer." Urgar paused to roll his eyes expansively. "Women."
"Why arewe friends with him?" Eridis inquired of Sithli.
"I can't quite remember at the moment," Sithli answered.
"I thought there weren't supposed to be any more prophecies," Queen Prala spoke, a frown creasing her face.
"Indeed not," Cyradis replied in her rich, soft voice. "The division of the universe and the repair of that great and terrible Accident was all completed with The Choice and the ascension of Eriond to his rightful place as a god. And yet, what my daughter has told me cannot be dismissed. I have looked upon the prophecy of which Prince Urgar speaks and I to the best of my ability I have confirmed it as authentic."
"Where is this…prophecy, now?" Urgit asked, his irritation and confusion having given way to curiosity.
"It's in Her Imperial Highness' keeping," Urgar explained to his father. "We decided she would be best to hang on to it, since she's the only one who can see those shadowy friends of hers."
"Shadowy friends?"
"It gets a bit complex." Urgar shrugged slightly. "I'll explain it to you in full later. At the moment however, we need to make plans to sail to Riva. Quickly. I sort of thought you should be along for that."
Urgit glowered at his son. "We are going to have a very long talk about this, later." Urgar bowed deeply to his father and then the King of the Murgos turned to look at the Emperor of Mallorea, who was watching him closely. The set of his features was still somewhat bemused, but his voice didn't waver as he asked "Riva?"
"Alright, Urgar." Sithli said, as soon as they were away from the throne room and heading back down the high ceilinged corridors of the palace, leaving their parents to hash out the plans for the trip to Aloria. "Just exactly what was all that about?"
"All what?" Urgar inquired innocently.
"Don't play stupid with me." Her tone was short. "Telling your father we were holding you hostage. Your deliberate provocation and flippancy. What was the purpose of all of that?"
Urgar sighed heavily. "There's been an overwhelming tension between my father and your father for decades. With the first several of them spent with your father desperately wanting to kill mine and mine in abject terror of yours, to be perfectly blunt. That's not very sound ground for beginning a collaboration."
"Ah," Eridis murmured in sudden comprehension.
Sithli, however, did not feel similarly enlightened. "But an accusation of kidnapping is?"
"My father is not the bravest of men. Zakath knows that. It's no secret that the King of the Murgos has been called a coward throughout the years. I needed to make a point. That when there's something significant on the line—say, the well being of his only son, the fate of the world, that sort of thing—he can, and will bring his courage and resolve to bear."
"You deliberately got him angry so he would stand up to my father," Sithli said, understanding dawning. "So that my father would respect him."
"We may be working rather closely for something very important. Life would be easier if we all get along. And it's very hard to be on good terms with someone you have no regard for."
"Even without your machination, I don't think there was much risk of Sithli's father stabbing yours while we're out at sea." Eridis interjected. "If nothing else, wouldn't the god Eriond prevent it?"
"Not while he's sequestered with the priesthood he couldn't." Urgar replied. He glanced over at Sithli. "Has anyone been sent to notify him of what's going on?"
"Father sent a messenger yesterday. I don't think we're going to wait however. We're pressed for time and Eriond has ways of catching up with us when he needs to."
"He is a god," Eridis said, academic inquisitiveness in her tone. "Couldn't you just summon him with prayer?"
"Eriond is still a very new god," Sithli answered. "And he has a good portion of Angarak praying to him now. I'm not sure how well that would work and we wouldn't want to confuse things. It doesn't hurt to do it the conventional As long as he makes it to Riva."
"I can't say I don't prefer a sea voyage devoid of godly accompaniment," Urgar remarked.
"He's your god too, you know." Eridis remarked.
"I know. That's one of the main reasons why he makes me so uncomfortable."
Despite still being irritated by Urgar's secret machinations, Sithli grudgingly had to admit that they may very well have been effective. At the very least, it had proved unnecessary to remove the sharp cutlery from the dinner table that evening when the imperial family of Mallorea dinned together with the royal family to Cthol Murgos. She had, admittedly, been resolved to follow the dinner conversation rather closely as she made her way down to the dinning hall that evening. She was confident she'd have an ally in Eridis, at the very least. With the exception of her short mood during their travelling, Eridis was always the soul of good manners and far outstripped her when it came to patience and diplomacy. Urgar…well she was never entirely sure what Urgar was going to do.
Her trust in Eridis was well placed. At the table her sedate friend, with the most animation she'd shown since they'd left Melcena, applied herself to sustaining general conversation. She steadfastly addressed the two sets of Angarak monarchs with a comfortable self-composure, Sithli imagined was a combination of her natural maturity and all that time she had spend in close collaboration with the proctors at the university. The scholars of Melcena might not have titles, but those who had obtained tenure could be as intimidating as any emperor. Without the hint of self consciousness, Eridis confided to the table at large that she did not find the eastern study intolerably red. She made observations on the weather, the architecture of the city of Mal Zeth, and the novels of Goron III.
Sithli listened slightly awed by so much enthusiasm. She knew Eridis did not truly believe the novels of Goron III to be satirical social documents. She wondered how genuine the rest of her opinions were. After he had finished his cutlet, her father joined Eridis in conversation. He already knew all there was to know about Urgar and his family. Now it seemed he wanted to know about Sithli's other companion.
"I believe, Dame Eridis," Zakath said, "you mentioned you were from Dalasia?"
"Dal Zerba, to be specific, your majesty." Eridis confirmed with a smile. "We're a fair sized port city."
"And your parents?" The Emperor of Mallorea continued. "Urgit and I have dealt with this kind of absurdity before, so when you come to us talking of obscure prophecies and shadowy visitors we have our own experiences as a buffer to skepticism. But I don't suppose yours are similarly indoctrinated."
"Father." Sithli said, sharply. His question was candid enough to border on rude.
He turned to look at her, face impassive. "It is a fair question, daughter." He said. "I've already been accused of kidnap once today. I don't want to have to worry about a Dalasian family beating down my door, complaining that I've abducted their daughter." He sent a pointed look at Urgar.
The Murgo prince grinned. "I do apologize again, your imperial majesty. Sometimes my creativity runs away with me. I've already been berated at length for it, I assure you."
"Not lengthily enough." Queen Prala said.
"On the upside, I can never claim that you and father don't love me."
"You're my only son," The Murgo king replied, picking up his wine glass. He took a drink from it and then added. "If something happens to you, I don't have a back up."
Sithli couldn't help the peal of laughter that burst from her.
Urgar sighed tragically. "No one appreciates me."
"You brought it all on yourself," Sithli said smugly. "If I were His Royal Majesty, I'd have disowned you on the spot."
Urgar gave her an innocent look. "Who was it, who didn't want to send a letter of her arrival to her father for the sake of….what was that phrase you used?" He ignored the sound of Sithli choking on the piece of quail she'd been chewing. "Keep him on his toes?"
"Oh, really?" Zakath said, giving his daughter a stern look.
Sithli glared across the table at Urgar. "Traitor." And then to the table, "Weren't we Eridis' abduction?" She didn't bother trying to mask her change of subject with subtlety, though she did give her friend an apologetic look.
"It hardly counts as an abduction, since I was the one who insisted on coming along." Eridis replied, deftly taking her return to the center of discourse is stride.
"And your family didn't object?" Urgar's mother asked.
"I wasn't obliged to go into too much detail, your majesty." Eridis said. "My parents passed away many years ago. I was placed in the care of my mother's sister and her husband, however we were never especially close. I did send them word that I would be leaving my residence at the University. But I don't think that they're likely to raise protest."
"Are you saying that your aunt and uncle are unconcerned about your well being?" Zakath asked.
"No, your majesty. My aunt and uncle have never done anything but right by me. We're a merchant family, though not a particularly prosperous one, but nonetheless when I asked to be enrolled in the University, my uncle paid my tuition. I have nothing but gratitude towards them. But they have children of their own to concern themselves with and they're content to let me live my life as I choose to." She paused and then added. "I don't think skepticism would have been much of a problem, at any rate. We are Dals, after all."
"I don't think I follow that," King Urgar said.
"The Dals art closely acquainted with prophecy, King Urgar," Cyradis said in her gentle voice. "It hath been part of our culture even since the beginning of the Age of Prophecy itself."
With a start Sithli remembered that her mother, like Eridis, was also a Dalasian. Though the people of Kell were somewhat different than general Dalasians, they were still none the less of the same people. Reflecting on it now Sithli realized that Eridis and her mother were quite similar in their serene disposition, patient calm, and tranquil acceptance of the preternatural. If she looked closely, she imagined she could even pick out certain similarities in the structure of their features. The shape of their eyes was very similar. And the slim, petite shape of their noses.
"And Sithli, it seems, has inherited her mother's propension for becoming enveloped in prophecy it seems," the Emperor of Mallorea said, glancing over at his daughter.
Sithli gave him a seraphic smile. "Girls are supposed to take after their mothers."
"What's my excuse?" Urgar wondered aloud.
"You don't have one," Urgit gruffly informed him.
"That was badly planned of me."
"Have you ever been to Aloria, Dame Eridis?" Queen Prala asked, disrupting the banter.
Eridis smiled at her. "No, your majesty. I've never been further than Karanda. We'll be setting sail in the morning, I presume?"
"Come hell, high water, or conjured sea monster," Urgar said and stole an artichoke from Sithli's plate.
- END PART THREE -