Description: Carthak offers a peace proposal between itself and Tortall. The delegation is announced, and Numair is less than pleased at being on the list.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Author's Note: This is my rewrite of Book 3: Emperor Mage from Numair's point of view. This is my absolute favourite book of the quartet. I will apologise profusely now for needing to copy huge sections of dialogue from the book. I hadn't realised how often the pair are together which didn't give me as many opportunities to write my own scenes as I would have liked. I certainly wasn't going to bore you with the negotiations!

I am continuing the unintentional tradition of starting the story before the books. I'm afraid I'm not a big fan of Jon and I know as a king you have to ask your subjects to do some pretty awful things. This is my idea of how he gets Numair to go back to the mage's own personal hell.

Chapter 1

It was well past dark, and the council meeting had already been going on for hours as the general reports and running's of the kingdom were discussed. Sat around the large oak table were the king's closest confidants, Queen Thayet and members of the council. Numair never knew how he survived these monthly meetings. These sessions were always long and tiresome, but they were necessary.

"Now, onto the matter at hand." King Jonathan of Conté announced. "We have received a proposal of peace from Carthak and have decided to send a delegation to meet with the ambassadors to discuss the proposition."

The mage rolled his eyes wondering what Ozorne was planning now. Tortall was in no position to oppose Carthak if they decided to launch a full-scale attack so why offer peace?

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, any proposal received from Carthak is merely a farse." Duke Gareth of Naxem spoke first.

"Surely, we are not going to be sending our own people into what is certainly a trap?" Raoul of Goldenlake argued.

"We cannot dismiss the proposal out of hand. Carthak's military force far outnumbers our own. We would be fools not to at least consider it." Lord Wyldon of Cavall gave a hard look at the two men who had spoken against the king.

"Gentlemen, calm yourselves." Jonathan held up his hand to silence the men. "We have already accepted the proposal and will be sending a delegation in a month's time. We need peace with Carthak. We cannot afford a war. Duke Gareth, you will head the delegation and speak for Tortall and our wishes to maintain good relations with Carthak."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The duke did not look happy but bowed and accepted the king's command.

"We shall also be sending Gareth the Younger, Lord Martin and Harailt of Aili to represent their respective positions in the kingdom." The king looked at each of the men in turn and they bowed in acknowledgement.

Numair understood the purpose of sending each of these men; Gareth the Younger would be going because he was the Prime Minister of Tortall and spoke for the people. Lord Martin of Meron was a member of the Council of Lords, so he was being sent to appease the conservatives and to make sure their views were being addressed. Harailt of Aili was the Dean of the Mage's College and would represent the kingdom's magical interests. Hopefully, Harailt would be able to speak to the scholars and find a way to read the scrolls that opened the Divine Realms. Word from Carthak that the gates had been opened by renegade mages was an appalling lie even by Ozorne's standards. It was even more outrageous that the emperor had found people to execute for this supposed crime.

The king looked at the Lioness and the champion groaned. "Alanna, I'd like you to go, as you represent me as the king's champion, but also your position as a woman in the kingdom is an important one, and I would like to demonstrate Tortall's enlightened views."

"You are not seriously sending me on a ship to Carthak?" The Lioness grimaced. Her inability to cope with long sea voyages was well known to everyone around the table.

"Yes. I need you there Alanna," Jon reasoned.

The red-headed knight cursed but nodded to the king. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The relationship between the king and his champion always fascinated Numair. You could tell the two were friends long before Alanna had taken up her duty. The Lioness could speak to the king in a manner no one else in the room would ever dare to.

King Jonathan took a breath and looked at his Chief Mage who swallowed as an icy claw seemed to squeeze his chest. "Numair, we also need you to go –"

"No." It was only a whisper, but everyone in the room heard the mage's refusal.

The king pursed his lips and continued. "You have lived in Carthak. You know the local politics, the customs, you were once friends to the –"

"No!" Numair said more firmly.

Jonathan paused and clenched his hand into a fist looking into the mage's eyes. Pressing his fist into the table the king turned to address the room. "Thank you everyone. If you could all leave us, please, except you Numair. We will discuss our plans and a strategy for the delegation at another time."

Everyone in the room rose and started to filter out the door. Alanna came to stand near the mage and patted his shoulder in silent support. Numair didn't acknowledge her as his dark eyes never left the king's bright blue ones. Soon the room was empty leaving only the king and his Chief Mage staring silently at one another.

"I don't like to ask you to do this –" Jonathan began.

"Then don't." Jon wasn't a stupid man. Numair knew the king wouldn't ask him to go without a very good reason, especially as they both knew they would be condemning him to certain death. The question remained, what was the real reason behind this request? "I have never refused a command from you before, Your Majesty. Please don't ask me to refuse you now."

"I need you there. Your experience and knowledge of Carthak is invaluable. You know the intricacies of the politics and certain members of the court. You have first-hand knowledge of their culture and traditions."

"All of which I could pass onto members of the delegation or write up in a report." Numair stated impassively.

The king bit his cheek and tried again. "You have a contact there who has been instrumental in getting slaves out of Carthak. If word is true about the slaves planning to revolt against the emperor, we need to know so that we can offer our support and keep his attention on his own land."

"George or one of his people would be perfectly capable of going in my place and conducting spy-talk far better than I could. You know the name of my contact."

Jonathan slammed his fist on the table. "Please, Numair. The emperor has granted you a special pardon and we already requested, on your behalf, for you to speak with the scholars at the palace. You know those libraries better than anyone and know where the scrolls on the Divine Realms will be kept."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty. Any pardon issued by the Emperor Mage is merely a lure to reel me back so that he can string me up and gut me."

The king stood abruptly and paced the floor while Numair waited silently not moving a muscle. Only his dark eyes moved as he tracked Jonathan's movements.

"Daine is going." Jon said very quietly and stopped beside his chair gripping the back. Numair stiffened as his ears began to ring. "The emperor's birds are sick, and Daine may be able to heal them. If she can, it will go a long way to helping with the negotiations." The ringing was getting louder almost drowning out the king's words. "You told me yourself, Ozorne's only weakness is his birds. I need you to keep an eye on her and make sure she stays safe."

The large table between the two men turned to ash in an instant as Numair removed his hands and placed them on his lap. Jonathan took a step back from his chair, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at his Chief Mage. Numair rose slowly from his chair and bowed to his king before leaving the room. He was distantly aware of his Gift crackling around him as he returned to his rooms and began to pack.

At dawn, Numair sent a servant to the kitchens to request some supplies for his journey enough for a few weeks stay. He hadn't slept that night as he prepared for a journey to his tower. The mage also requested to have Spots and Mangle readied, sending several of his packs to be loaded onto the packhorse. Once he was satisfied he had everything he needed, Numair made his way to the stables, shouldering one pack and carrying the other.

When he entered, the mage found Daine already in the stables brushing Cloud, her grumpy mountain pony. The girl turned and gave him a bright smile before she noticed the packs.

"You're up early this morning. Going somewhere?" she asked.

"I'm going to my tower for a few weeks."

Daine put down the brush she'd been using on Cloud. "All right, give me a few minutes and I can be packed and ready to go. I wish you'd have given me more notice, though."

"I'm going alone this time," he said softly.

The hurt look in his student's eyes as she turned to look at him broke through the cold rage in the mage's heart.

He stepped close to his friend and cupped her cheek gently. "I won't be very good company and there are some things I must see to. I'll be back before the delegation leaves."

"Oh, so you heard about that?" she sighed as Numair nodded his head darkly. "The king asked me last night before dinner if I'd go. I won't be gone long."

"I'll be going with you." Would Daine ever realise that wherever she went he would follow?

"No! I said I'd go," the girl fumed. "I didn't say anything about us both going."

"The king has other reasons for sending me." His Majesty may have had a list of reasons but they both knew the mage was only going because of his student. Not that he would ever tell his friend that. Daine had agreed to this because she had a kind heart and couldn't bear to hear of an animal's suffering. He was going to ensure she returned safely.

"But he can't send you!" the girl argued. "He knows the emperor wants you dead."

"Evidently, I have been granted a special pardon."

Daine's eyes flashed in comprehension. "You are not going to the tower alone. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

The rest of Numair's anger dissipated into amused affection at his friend's over-protective gesture. "Daine, please. I need some time to prepare before we leave."

"That's fine – I'm still coming," she stated matter-of-factly.

The mage took her hands in his and squeezed them lightly looking into her stormy eyes. "Please. I need to conduct some experiments. For that I will require quiet and while you might be willing to give me that I suspect Kitten would not. We both know my wards can't keep her out of any room she wishes to enter."

"You won't take care of yourself. You'll forget to eat." The worry in her eyes was touching.

Numair pinched the bridge of his nose wondering how he'd manage to gain such an insightful friend who constantly had his best interests at heart. He sighed in defeat and placed a hand on his heart and held the other up. "I swear by all the gods that I will remember to eat. Satisfied?"

Daine raised an eyebrow at him. "Everyday?"

He chuckled before managing to answer her seriously. "Everyday."

The girl didn't look happy but at least the defiant light in her blue-grey eyes had disappeared. In truth, Numair hated to be apart from his student and friend, but he didn't want Daine around for what he was going to attempt at his tower.

"Could you saddle Spots for me? You can give him any last-minute instructions you deem necessary." He smiled warmly knowing he'd opened himself up to an unknown number of constraints the Wildmage would place on his faithful gelding.

Numair checked on Mangle and loaded the last two packs onto the cart. He and Daine led the horses out of the stable and his student was unable to suppress her grimace as he mounted Spots. No matter how many lessons she had given him, he was still a terrible rider. The mage held out his hand and gripped hers firmly.

"I'll see you in a few weeks," he said gently.

"Numair!" They both turned to see the king running towards them. "Where are you going?"

The mage gave his king a sharp look. "To my tower to prepare for Carthak." Kicking Spots gently, Numair spared one last look at Daine before he rode away from Corus.

A few weeks later, the mage sat back in his workroom and reviewed his creation. It had taken a lot of meticulous and painstaking work, but it was finally ready. The replica simulacrum of himself was possibly one of the most brilliant pieces of illusion magic he'd ever crafted. It would almost be a shame to use it, because if it was required, it would be to save his life. Numair had no intention of gambling his safety on Ozorne's supposed pardon.

The mage was glad Daine hadn't joined him at his tower. She would not have enjoyed being here while he dissected the two pigs, he had brought with him. Most simulacra were made of pure magic but for this simulacrum he needed it to feel real as well as look real. For that he required physical materials for the body. The pigs were a good imitation of human skin, although he'd had to add several dyes for the flesh to match his colouring. It had only required one pig to transmute into a man of his size, but the mage always preferred to have two in case of mistakes. He'd lost count of how many days it had taken to carefully shape his features into the body. Embedded into the flesh he had placed crystals in the feet and hands for movement, two crystals in the ears for hearing, one in the mouth for speaking and two behind the eyes for seeing. The hair had been the trickiest to fabricate but he'd found some black horsehair that closely resembled his own. He couldn't use any of his own hair or blood otherwise it would create a physical link between himself and the illusion. Carefully he imbued the simulacrum with as much of his Gift as he could manage without draining himself entirely. All that remained was to clothe his creation and ship it to Carthak secretly.

He loaded the wrapped simulacrum into a box and put a magical seal on it before stacking it onto the cart. The ride to Pirate's Swoop took a few hours where he met Baron George Cooper and asked him to ship the box to Tyra, and from there have it shipped to Carthak to a man named Lindhall Reed.

"So, what's in the box, lad?" George asked.

"A safeguard for my life."

"Aren't you worried someone will try to break in and take a peek?" Numair wondered if the older man was referring to himself.

"It's magically sealed and requires a speaking spell to open it. I have something else for you." The mage handed George an oval crystal of tanzanite. "I have the paired crystal to that one. They're speaking stones, in case we need to get an urgent message out. They will be undetectable to anyone but another black robe mage."

"You're expecting trouble, aren't you?" the baron made the crystal disappear.

Numair gave the older man a grim look. "I barely escaped with my life the last time. I'm not taking any chances."

"I was surprised to hear you were going at all." George said frankly.

"The king commanded me to go."

"From what I heard, you refused him. What changed your mind?"

Numair swallowed and lowered his eyes. "Daine agreed to go to Carthak to heal the emperor's birds."

"You're going for the lass? You think she'll be in danger?" George asked incredulously.

"I think everyone in that delegation will be in danger the moment they step onto Carthaki soil." The mage looked at George knowing the man's wife was part of that delegation. "Last year I found a message from the emperor saying he wanted to capture Kitten for his menagerie and kill her handler. I doubt he has changed his mind since then."

The baron nodded and patted the younger man on the back. "You best get going then or you'll miss the boat."

Numair frowned. "What do you mean? I have another week before they leave."

George gave him a long-suffering look. "They leave in a few days, lad. You'll have a hard ride if you're going to reach Corus in time."

The mage cursed wondering when he had lost track of the days. Bidding farewell to George, he asked Spots and Mangle to ride as fast as they could manage.

Numair made it to Corus with a day to spare which didn't give him much time to pack. It was a shock when the mage entered his rooms to find his bags half-packed and Daine standing in front of his wardrobe looking at silk shirts.

"Magelet?" he covered his mouth with his hand trying not to laugh. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

The girl huffed and gave him an exasperated look. "George contacted Alanna and told her you were on your way. He said you were running late, so I was trying to help with your packing, but it's not like when we're on the road. I wasn't sure what you needed for Carthak."

Numair grinned and hugged his friend gratefully. "Thank you. That was very considerate of you. I think I can finish up from here."

"I'm glad you made it," she smiled up at him.

He released her quickly as he felt an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. "So am I, magelet." Numair was surprised to find that his words were sincere, even if it meant returning to Carthak.