Hey peeps! I'm feeling really low today. But here's a nice chapter, involving Ozorne (since Numair is *temporarily* out of the picture...*shiver* *shiver* *delicious shiver* *grin* sorry, I've been drinking to much Coke and watching to much MTV...).
Ummm...oh yeah, just a few things to say:
Pinkpanther: nope, Trystam has nothing to do with Tristan. I just like the name (so sue me, I was uninspired). However, Tristan (you know, the one that gets morphed into a tree by Numair) *might* make an appearance...hmmm...
Okay, I've changed the rating t PG-13, cuz Ozorne has some fun' (don't worry, no graphics, I'm not too good at those...*grin* I'm JOKING!!!) with...er...some girls...yeah...
Oh...this is just something about my *other* fic - Never Yours (just incase you're wondering, it's an angst, SHORT fic with D/N [sorta]). MSsUnDaZtOoD suggested that I plagiarized the last few sentences (something about me copying from the Mask of Zorro...). Okay, I don't know if you guys know me *that* well, but I would never, ever do such a thing. I haven't watched that movie in about six months, and hey, it's not like I write down and remember every single line...those lines I wrote were my own, not the writer of the movie's (great minds think alike, eh? j/k). MSsUnDaZtOoD suggested that I write a disclaimer on that - okay, so I did, but in the reviews (I'll be damned if I have to re-upload a story that hardly anyone reads because of a disclaimer). The point I'm trying to get at is this: there is so much information in this world that we soak it all in...and when we least expect it, something already used comes out in our work (in this case, my fic). Now you know why Tamora Pierce doesn't read fanfic, right? (PS: a thousand thanx to MSsUnDaZtOoD for calling my attention to that!)
Happy reading!
Giovanna xoxo
RrÞ


Part X

Trystam joined the emperor at breakfast the next morning. They talked for a couple of hours, discussing innocent things' - such as a possible marriage alliance between Ozorne's nephew and a Gallan noblewoman.
Towards the end of the meal, Ozorne said, Forgive me if I am being rude, but I have noticed that pretty young lady, the one with the green eyes and blonde hair. Is she a mage?
Trystam laughed softly. No, no, not at all. Juliana is no more mage than I am a mule.
Right thought Ozorne dryly. Then my question is: who is she to you?
Juliana Tomeksri is my lover, Trystam replied frankly. You could call her a concubine.
Noble born?
No. I met her in a brothel, Trystam corrected quietly. Then he changed the topic of conversation. What will you be doing today, my lord?
I? I have nothing much in mind - my mages are the ones who insisted on coming so they could study the magical sickness. I was thinking that perhaps one of your people could take me on a tour of Cría?
Trystam tapped his fingers together. Yes, I think we could arrange that. My uncle, Duke Christer, knows the city inside out. I think I could have an escort, which includes some of your men, of course -
Of course.
- ready to go in about thirty minutes. Is that all right with you, my lord?
Yes, of course. My thanks, my lord.
It is no trouble, insisted Trystam, getting up and moving towards the door. Until then.
Ozorne sat alone in the room, thinking. Then he gestured; a thin man appeared from behind the curtains.
asked Ozorne, looking at the man.
Imperial Majesty, began the other, his pale blue eyes flicking to every corner of the room. I have found out that the man named Numair Salmalín was recently here, investigating the magical sickness.
Ozorne hissed softly, slamming his fist into the table. Every time I do something, he just has to come sniffing around. Marcus?
Yes, Imperial Majesty?
Did he find out?
No. No one knows that it was us who created the disease.
Good. Make sure it stays that way.
Marcus hesitated before saying, There is one more thing, Majesty.
And that is?
My informants say that Alanna the Lioness, the King's Champion, was with him, and they -
Ozorne interrupted Marcus' report with a flood of bad language. Marcus waited it out, then cleared his throat.
It's quite possible that they will return.
Ozorne snorted. Don't be ridiculous. Tortall is at war with their neighbors! He stood up and moved towards the door that led to his privy. Call my slaves; I need to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, Ozorne was mounted on his black gelding. He was dressed in warm clothes - the temperature was starting to drop. Five of his best guards were mounted and assembled behind him; they kept on glaring suspiciously at King Trystam's men, who were gathered behind him.
Shall we go? Trystam began, stroking his mare's neck absently. Ozorne nodded.
The next few hours, the two rulers and their men went around Cría. Trystam and his uncle, Duke Christer, explained the history of the place, and took the Carthaki emperor to the most notable of places. Ozorne, although rather bored, hardly noticed the time fly by, so when Duke Christer suggested that they return, he snapped out of his .
Already, your grace? he asked.
Duke Christer exchanged a look with Trystam. Yes, Imperial Majesty...unless...
Where do your people go to have fun?
During the night? asked Trystam; Ozorne nodded.
After all, cousin, there is a place which has reached our ears in Carthak.
The Silver Temple. Trystam looked up at the sky, a frown tugging his lips down. It would not be...ah...subtle , if we went there with all these guards. People will recognize us...they would get ideas...
Ozorne waved it away. I can watch out for myself. He turned towards his guardians. A few blocks away, you men split up and place yourselves in strategic positions.
Trystam looked uncomfortable. Are you really sure you want to do this, cousin?


It was one of those quiet evenings. There were no premiers, no shows, on nights like these. Daine enjoyed them. It meant not having to get stressed over costumes, make-up, words, dance movements. It also meant a more personal' and civilized' time for the customers; Damara would greet each one individually, then introduce them to the available girls.
called Damara, fixing on an earbob, looking splendid as usual. Are you ready to mingle and such? It's almost eight.
Valentina and Pichi, the only old-timers' from before Daine's arrival, nodded. They settled themselves down on a window seat and began talking softly. Mangar, looking magnificent in an orange gown which contrasted with her dark skin, was using a strange paste - she called it henna - to draw elaborate designs on the palms of her hands.
The twins, Kara and Hannah, had placed themselves near the fireplace. Kara was wearing a cream-colored gown; her neck sparkled with crystals. Hannah, the one with the small scar, was almost too painful to look at, as her dress was a silk whiter that snow. They both had small lap harps, and strummed them softly.
Juliana was working on the food. As she was already the king's woman, she had not dressed elaborately - but anyone could tell she was a beauty. Daine just prayed that no one would ask for her.
There were several other courtesans - Damara, after Kara, Hannah, Mangar, and Juliana were trained properly, had found more. At the moment, about twenty full-time women worked at the Silver Temple. Then there were the stable-hands, the part-time girls, and the trainees...
Daine sighed when she heard the voices of strangers in the entrance. Damara bustled off - and returned instantly, her face white.
she said in a harsh whisper. It's the king...and he's brought a friend.
Juliana looked up, excited.
Now, don't go all meek, Damara continued. You are professional, first-class courtesans - behave like them! She left the room again.
Daine met Juliana's emerald eyes, and mouthed, Lucky you. Juliana grinned and returned to pouring herself a glass of wine.
A few minutes later, the door swung open. Daine looked up and saw Damara lead two powerfully built men inside. Trystam she recognized immediately - the other, though, she did not.
Is that a stud, or what? murmured Mangar; Daine jumped. She hadn't noticed the Zallaran woman come up behind her.
she whispered, keeping her eyes on her book. The king? Or his buddy?
His friend. But... Mangar paused, stiffened, and cursed softly. He's a Carthaki.
Daine looked closely at the man; his attention was fixed on Damara, who was talking to Trystam. He had reddish-brown hair which was arranged into hundreds of thin braids, each one held by a tiny silver bead, so that when he moved his head, they clicked softly together. He had large, amber colored eyes - Daine saw that their weird shape came from the strange lines painted around them. His mouth was firm, and his skin had a slightly copper tone to it.
Not bad Daine thought.

Trystam, your usual? Damara was saying; the king nodded. Smiling, Damara gestured at Juliana. The young woman came up to Trystam, grinning, and led him up a flight of stairs. Before disappearing, he turned and called,
Be nice, Damara.The door slammed.
She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. So, my friend, may I know who you are?
Ozorne felt rather awed by this place, and its mistress. So he bowed slightly. Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe, he introduced himself.
Emperor of Carthak, eh? Damara drawled. At Ozorne's nod, she continued, It's not the first time Trystam has brought his monarch-buddies here. So, tell me what you look for in a girl, and I'll get her. Or you can just go around and choose. It's your choice.
I think I'll go walk around.
May I suggest something?

Go for the ones you aren't likely to have in Carthak. It is a hot, humid country, filled with women with brown skin, black hair and eyes. Now, you are in the north. Take a northerner.
I'll keep that in mind, replied Ozorne, moving away from Damara and starting towards the twins. Daine closed her book and approached her foster-mother.
Who is he? she asked softly, pouring herself a glass of wine. Mangar said he's Carthaki.
So he is. The emperor, actually.
Daine nearly dropped her glass. He has concubines at his palace! she exclaimed in a whisper. Why would he go to a brothel if he has concubines?
Daine, what's the difference between a concubine and a courtesan?
I don't know, Damara. You never taught us.
Juliana will soon be a concubine, if she keeps this up, Damara muttered. Courtesans are simply prostitutes with class, whose customers are nobles. They are well-educated, polite, and are able to provide for themselves. A concubine is a man's mistress - she sleeps with no one else. Love is not a necessary factor, but it's nice to have some.
So you're saying that, since Juliana can't marry her king, but because she loves him, and he loves her, she's his concubine?
Exactly. Remember that concubines aren't paid. Well, not usually. When I was Trystam's concubine...well, he provided for me.
Daine grinned. That's right. I forgot about that small detail. Does Juliana know?
No. Trystam will tell her, though.
Do you still love him?
I told you, one doesn't need to feel love to be someone's concubine.
Do you? persisted Daine. She was swirling the wine inside her glass, eyes glued on the emperor. Damara sighed.
I thought I did. Now, I feel like...a very close friend.
replied Daine absently. Damn him, he's going for Kara...just as well. I'm not up to it tonight...