A/N: I'm back! And actually in a semi timely fashion! I SHOULD be studying for finals, but hey, who cares about them? Summer's coming soon (Groan, i'm still looking for a job), and that SHOULD mean more time. But that's alot of SHOULDs.
Okay, in this chapter, we step a little farther away from EM. I have to, otherwise this would still be Daine-centric, just through Numair's eyes, and while that may be interesting in RotG, remember, he doesn't know he's in love with her yet. But i do have fun weaving a little of Numair's protective (coughjealouscough) side :).
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Chapter 2
Numair absentmindedly waved away a slave that served fruit juices. He couldn't deal with them. Not now. He was literally minutes away from being introduced to the Emperor, and was currently mustering every ounce of his strength and composure. The famed black mage of Tortall, brought low by just the presence of the Emperor Mage? Numair couldn't allow that to happen.
Daine entered the antechamber, where the party was to wait before being announced to the Emperor. Numair looked up to smile at his student, and was once more taken aback. The lady before him wore a twinkling dark blue dress with silver embroidery, flattering her figure. Smoky but silky brown curls were pinned back out of her face, now completely devoid of childish features. Numair was struck again by the realization that Daine was maturing beautifully. He gave her a genuine smile.
"You'll break hearts tonight," he told her teasingly.
She flushed, but looked at him with concern. "You'll be okay?" Numair knew of what she spoke. With his attention to Daine, Numair had momentarily forgotten of his earlier turmoil. Reminded, Numair felt his energy drop. He smiled a little less brightly, and said, "Don't worry about me, magelet."
This time, she smiled. "But I must. Elsewise no one would notice if you were killed having finally pushed one of the palace workers to murder."
Numair pretended to be offended. "I am not that rude."
"Not a-purpose, master mage. But your scatteredness provokes a lot of folk with short tempers."
"Point taken," Numair surrendered, his heart a little lighter. Joking with Daine must be one of the greatest remedies in existence. Numair made a self note to present his medicinal discovery to some healers.
By then, the rest of the Tortallan delegation had arrived. Harailt, dean of magical studies at the royal university that Numair had helped founded, came to join the two mages, as did Lindhall. Daine took to inspecting something on the ceiling. Numair went back to his brooding (He noticed he was doing that quite a lot recently).
Would he be able to handle this? He remembered Ozorne's betrayal as if it had been yesterday. Since ten, Numair heard often – too often, lately – of the Emperor Mage, but always avoided confronting his uneasiness. Now he had no choice.
And? a voice in his mind sounded, How does that relate to anything? Choice or no, you have to meet Ozorne anyway, so you might as well stop being so melodramatic about it. That sounded suspiciously like something Onua would say.
"How do the lamps keep burning?" Numair heard Daine ask, interrupting his pondering.
"Magic," said Harailt, "Numair, why didn't you tell us about this light spell? To have steady, strong illumination—"
Looking up, Numair realized they were referring to the crystal globes hanging from the ceiling – a small representation of the change that must have taken place here after his departure. "They didn't have it when I was here," he said matter-of-factly. "They did something with glass balls, but they faded after a short time. These aren't glass."
"The globes are filled with crystals," Lindhall elaborated, "Remind me, and I'll have one of the craft mages explain it to you. You'll be all right Arra—I'm sorry—Numair?"
Under normal circumstances, Numair, too, would have been curious of the spells and patterns that let crystals emanate light. But just then, the doors to the antechamber opened, and again Numair became very stressed. He managed a smile, and assured Lindhall and Daine, who were looking at him with concern again.
"I have to be, don't I?" He took a deep breath, composing himself all he could one last time. "Here we go, into the presence of the one and only Emperor Mage. Huzza."
The foreign delegation entered the audience chamber as the page beckoned them in. Bracing himself, Numair caught his first glimpse of the Emperor.
Out of all the reactions he expected from himself, none came close to the one that occurred. Numair was almost shocked to discover that he was reacting indifferently. Despite the panic that had gone on in his mind afore this moment, at the actual occasion, Numair hardly reacted at all. Even when he relaxed his tight control over his composure, there was still no reaction. No hysteria that might bubble out, no panic attack, nothing.
No longer was he influenced by the 'imperial presence'. He was free. Really, truly free.
Numair had enough sense to not let his exultation show. As the continued to approach the dais, he kept his facial expression as apathetic as his reaction. His gaze was directly forward and straight; even as Ozorne's (literally) glittering eyes scanned the line, Numair did not flinch the slightest.
Head cleared, Numair took the time to observe the room, as his duty entailed. Now looking at Ozorne as the Emperor of a foreign nation he was here to negotiate with, and not as a man who had betrayed him, Numair took in the minute details that might be crucial to Tortall's approach and knowledge.
The ruler was overly jeweled and gilded, as usual. He paid no attention to the lavished accessories like he could tell his colleagues did. He did, however, note some particular jewels, like the Emperor Mage's collar of black opals, and some of the rings that held rubies and other gems that Numair knew to be protective jewels.
Finding nothing else of interest, he began to think of a new book waiting for him at home. When his name was called, he came back to reality enough to walk up to the dais and bow, not giving the emperor the satisfaction of seeing him nervous – not that Ozorne looked at him in the first place. When he rejoined the line, he fell back to his mind-wandering. He perked, however, when Daine was introduced.
He watched carefully as he steadily walked toward the imperial throne. Numair noticed quite a few young clerks eyeing Daine with admiration and appreciation. Numair frowned. For some reason, this annoyed him, even though he should have expected as much.
Now, his student and Kit had reached the dais. Dane paused right before it, while Kit did not stop until she reached the emperor's feet.
Tense, Numair watched as Ozorne questioned Daine, predictably about Kit. The longer he talked with her, even if it was only a few moments altogether, the more rigid and edgy Numair became.
Finally the emperor dismissed her after an impressive display from Kit, and Numair relaxed slightly. Ozorne made his speech to the room, and the Tortallans went back to the antechamber. The separating wall was gratingly lowered, and by the emperor's wave of allowance, everyone began to converse. Numair saw Daine practically collapse onto a cushioned niche in the wall. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside her, as did Duke Gareth.
Numair cupped Daine's cheek in one hand, searching her face for any distress. She seemed slightly tired, but nothing more. "Are you alright?" he asked, just to make sure. "I had forgotten how intimidating he can be when he has all his imperialness on."
Daine looked toward the throne, and said "I noticed." She turned back, this time concerned about him. "Are you alright? Did he say anything to you?"
He smiled in assurance. "No. If I'm lucky, he'll ignore me for the rest of my stay. That's how he always managed such things when we were boys, anyway. If someone bested him at anything, he just pretended that person didn't exist. He got to be very good at it." Looking back, he realized that there were so many things that might have alerted Numair to Ozorne's true character – and his own, flawed one – well before he was arrested, or even long before that, when the two friends first started falling apart. But there was nothing that could be done about the past, and Numair wouldn't trade the result of all those hardships and mistakes for the greatest library in the realm. Numair was more than happy with where he was now.
Duke Gareth spoke, "It went well. You did us credit, Daine."
Numair nodded in agreement, though Daine did not see. He was very proud of his student for maintaining a cool composure throughout her entire conversation with the emperor. If it were him, Numair was sure he'd do much worse.
"Thank you, Your Grace," said Daine.
Just then, Gareth the Younger, Harailt, and Lindhall came with servants that carried fruit juices. The party helped themselves, grateful for the refreshment.
After a moment, Lindhall remarked, "So far, so good. Numair, did he speak to you?"
Numair was touched by everyone's concern. But he knew he did not need to worry as much any longer. He was unaffected by Ozorne, and no longer had any reason to fear him.
"He didn't even look at me. He spoke the most with Daine," Numair replied.
The aforementioned person inquired "But what about his birds? I came all the way to see them, and he didn't mention them at all." Of course Daine would be more distressed about animals than having spoken with the Emperor Mage. Numair expected this as much as he had expected Daine to recklessly dive into the water for the struggling marmoset. Actually, Numair only tolerated Daine coming here in the first place because the importance, diplomacy-wise, of the task that only she could accomplish.
"Rulers don't act as other men," the duke explained. "All requirements of protocol must be met before personal considerations may intrude. You must be patient until he sends for you."
Numair heard Daine protest under her breath, and he internally smiled. Patience had never been one of Daine's strong suits. However, while he sympathized for the sick birds, he knew Duke Gareth was right. It would be must likely unwise for Daine to act on her impatient nature here. So he gestured with his finger to his lips for Daine to say no more of the subject, and watched as Daine reluctantly submit.
Just then, a high-pitched, slightly familiar voiced called his boyhood name. "Arram"
Numair searched for its source and found a blue-eyed, blond haired woman, hands outstretched. He had to peruse his mind a little, but quickly remember his last lover before he had fled Carthak. He rose, shocked. "Varice?"
"The same old Varice Kingsford," she curled red, full lips that Numair had once found irresistible up into a smile. "I'm surprised you remember me."
Quickly assuming his usual gallant self, he took her delicate hands and kissed them both. "How could I forget you, my dear? You're lovelier than I remember," he flattered her. "You must tell me everything I've missed. What changed are in the palace, and at the university? Are you married; may I kill your husband—"
She laughed, and led him away to the opposite wall.
"Nothing really has changed so much," she said with a flirtatious smile. "I haven't changed."
Numair hesitated. He knew that she meant to insinuate that she wished to kindle old flames, however, Numair thought of it differently. Varice hadn't changed. But he had. Wasn't he just thinking about those changes on the galley? How Arram was no longer Arram, but Numair?
Varice let her smile slip slightly. "Arram, is something wrong?"
Numair forced a broad grin. "Numair, if you please. And no, nothing is wrong. So, you are not married?"
Her smile returned. "No, I am not. No new men in my life, as of right now. And you?" Numair noticed Varice's gaze dart to the other side of the room, where Daine was feeding Zek some grapes. He did not, however, notice Varice sniff a little.
"Well, I have taken on a new student," Numair said, his voice filled with pride, "a sensible young lady who is very adept at learning."
Varice looked confused. "If she has the Gift, would it not be better for her to attend the university? Here or in Tortall?"
"She is not Gifted," said Numair, bracing himself for what he knew would come.
"Then why is she your student?"
"She has wild magic, not the Gift, and enough of it that she needed training," Numair explained. Internally, he sighed. Numair could see he would be explaining this to quite a few others. Varice would not be the only skeptical one.
"Wild magic? Surely, Arram, you do not still believe in such tales," Varice said. It was Dunlath all over again.
"Of course I do. Daine is living proof. She can communicate with animals, and impress her will on them if needed. She can shape shift. No, it's not the same as mage shape shifting. She does not need a shape spell, and she does not need to hold on to it either. She can change to virtually any animal with little side effects. In fact, her magic is the reason she is here. King Jonathan sent her to heal the emperor's birds."
"I see," said Varice, only slightly mollified. "So, Arram, tell me…" and she successfully diverted the conversation. She was flirtatious and charming, and Numair returned the tone in kind. While it was pleasant flirting with Varice, for it made him feel twenty again, it wasn't the same anymore. However, Numair decided not to dwell on it too much, and enjoyed himself as much as possible. Varice really hadn't changed. And while that held some positives, it also held equal negatives. She was still unambitious, and Numair found himself preferring his intelligent or enjoyable conversations with his Tortallan friends. But he kept himself as lively as ever, and Varice seemed pleased.
Finally, Varice asked, "Arram, why don't you come into the gardens with me for some privacy?"
He smiled, and was about to accept – after all, he didn't mind Varice's company that much – when he, out of habit, glanced toward where Daine was, to make certain she was alright. She was no longer on the cushioned seat he had left her on. Numair looked around the room, trying to find her, or Kitten, or Zek. He did not see any of them. Not a flash of Kitten's sky blue scales, not a glimpse of Daine's dress, nothing. That wouldn't worry him so much, if Numair did not know that the Ozorne figure on the dais was a simulacrum. Numair was already worried about Ozorne's interest in Daine.
"Arram?"
Numair faced Varice again, and gave her an apologetic smile. "Although nothing would please me more than to walk in the gardens with you, my dear, I'm afraid I cannot leave this party yet. I have matters to discuss with Duke Gareth."
"Oh, well," Varice pouted, "Then I suppose I'll let you go."
Numair nodded in thanks, kissed her hand, and made his way over to where the Duke was conversing with Etiakret.
"Your Grace," Numair said, "May I have a word with you?"
Gareth the Elder turned to smile at the mage. "Of course. I was actually about to call for you. Duke Etiakret, if you'll excuse me."
The foreign noble nodded, and took his leave.
"You're here to inquire about Daine, am I correct?"
"Yes, Your Grace, I—"
"She is in the aviary. I was just told that Ozorne is having one of his mages show her to the aviary, so she may attempt to cure the birds."
Numair's face clouded over with anger and worry. He did not like Diane being alone with Ozorne and a Carthaki mage.
"Numair, what is wrong?"
"You Grace, I do not like Daine with Ozorne with no supervision from one of us," Numair admitted.
"But she is not with His Imperial Highness. Emperor Ozorne is on the dais," the elder looked confused.
"That is a simulacrum," Numair said, "And I do not sense his presence in this room."
"Truly?" Gareth was surprised.
"Yes."
The Duke sighed. "It is at times like these that I wish I were not so old. My Gift is virtually useless now. But still, Numair, you shouldn't worry too much. Ozorne would not risk giving offense at all so early, before negotiations have even begun. Also, his current purpose is for Daine to help his birds, which you know to be his most precious possessions to him, second only to his crown. And Daine is sensible. She should be fine."
Although Duke Gareth's argument was logical, it did not appease Numair. The thought of Daine alone with Numair gave him a dark sense of wariness and fear. He couldn't place it exactly, but he knew that Ozorne would never have good intentions towards anyone, regardless of favors – at least, by Numair's definition of 'good intentions'.
Just then, another bald slave stepped beside Numair and bowed. "I am to tell Nobility Salmalìn that Nobility Lindhall is in the aviary with Nobility Sarrasri, and that his imperial master Ozorne is on his way back to the audience chamber." (A/N: teehee. I had fun with all those 'nobilities')
Numair felt himself visibly relax as he nodded in thanks to the slave. After the slave left, Gareth said, "See Numair? Nothing to worry about. Now go enjoy the party. Tonight will probably be the least stressful night you will have in the next two weeks."
Numair managed a small smile, bowing his leave. Easier said than done, he thought. With Varice no where in sight, and Lindhall, Daine, and Kitten occupied in the aviary, Numair found himself without company. He didn't really mind that, but it was slightly awkward standing solitary in the room when all others were conversing. He made his way over to a slave he saw holding small pastries, and there Master Chioké joined him.
"Evening, Master Numair," he said politely, easy smile on his face.
Numair returned the greeting after swallowing his bite of pastry.
"How are you doing? I hope Carthak hasn't become a disappointment," Chioké said expectantly.
Numair spoke carefully. "I could hardly hope to pass judgment this early."
"Of course, of course. Yes, I almost forgot you are very prudent and by no means a fool."
Numair stiffened slightly, instantly on alert. What was he implying?
"Thank you, Master Chioké."
"I think you'll find that the university is not as it always was," Chioké said casually. Now, Numair visibly stiffened. "I think at least, we are training even more powerful mages. And now we offer classes for those who have already graduated, so they may…improve…their skills."
At this Chioké grinned, and Numair appraised him. He was Carthak's head mage, to be sure. His Gift had been refined extensively, and it was ample enough. From what Numair remembered – he and Chioké had been in absolutely different classes – he was a war mage, like Tristan, but more versatile. Still, Numair had seen more extraordinary, though Chioké seemed to be closer to a b lack robe level more so than any other red robe Numair had seen. But in no way did that mean we was, in the absence of comparisons, actually close to black robe level (while Numair didn't boast his rank in the least, he was too modest – not enough to skewer his perceptions). Chioké's Gift lacked the intensity needed. Numair's own Gift, in the process of his training to be a black robe, had changed from an amberish-orange to it current sparkling black color.
"That is very well, I suppose," Numair finally answered.
"Do not worry, Master Numair. I am no Tristan Staghorn. I am very aware of the power difference between you and me, though I'd like to think I am cleverer than he was." With that, he nodded and took his leave.
Numair frowned, lines creasing his lips and forehead. This was troubling. Numair knew almost exactly what to expect from Ozorne, but he knew only basic information about Chioké. He cursed under his breath for this lack of thoroughness, and swore he would inquire to Lindhall and other university mages about the head Carthaki mage at the next opportunity. In fact, Numair decided to research all of Ozorne's close circle. For all of his knowledge of his former best friend, Numair had forgotten a crucial thing: Ozorne never liked to do the dirty work. Knowing his men was just as important as knowing the man himself.
Numair sighed. In a way he owed Chioké a thank-you, for alerting Numair to his ignorance. But that made Numair wonder if he would call Chioké cleverer – or stupider.
--
Numair walked tiredly to is room. After Chioké, it had seemed many mages suddenly took notice of him, and so Numair had spent the last hour and a half cautiously conversing with the palace mages. Now, all that was on Numair's mind was a bed – any bed.
But when Numair reached his door, he was not alone. Lindhall waited for him, and instantly the weariness of Numair's mind disappeared. Silently, he walked into his room and beckoned Lindhall to follow. When he had done so, Numair closed the doors and warded the room.
Sitting on the bed while Lindhall sat on an armchair, Numair said, "Thank you, Lindhall, for supervising Daine, and letting me know."
"It was no bother. I knew it would worry you if she was alone. It was also very fascinating to watch her work. You've really found yourself an extraordinary pupil."
Numair smiled. "I know. How did it go?"
"She cured all the bird," Lindhall said, respect in his voice, "However, she has yet to determine how the birds got sick in the first place." Numair nodded. Lindhall paused then continued, "I had to warn her against Ozorne. She had only seen the side of Ozorne that shows in front of animals, and she seemed perplexed."
Numair sighed. That had been a worry of his, but, "Daine knows what Ozorne is capable of, and what he has done. In the past two years, she has seen basically as much as I have. I trust her."
Lindhall nodded. "And I trust you. Now, I am here to give you the new routes, so that you may contemplate them before we meet with Kaddar." He raised a hand, fog-colored magic collecting around the fingers.
"Right," Numair consented. Lindhall walked over and placed his fingers on Numair's temples. As the information flowed in, Numair directed it into what he envisioned a s a black, sparkling box in his mind. He would sort through the knowledge later. Numair was just to tired to deal with it at the moment. He made sure to remember where it was in his mind, keeping his mind organized. An experienced mage like himself knew very well he must always remember the basics, even if Numair himself had taught this principle to Daine when she first became his pupil.
"I'll look at it later," Numair told Lindhall. "Before I forget, Lindhall, what do you know about Chioké, and other members of Ozorne's inner circle?"
Lindhall pondered for a while, before answering, "To be honest, not very much at all. I do know Chioké is an especial favorite of Ozorne, and quite adept at the Gift. But, you'd do better to ask Kaddar, or a different palace mage."
Numair nodded wearily. "Thank you, Lindhall, for all your help."
Lindhall shook his head. "I am the one who should be thanking you. You're tired. I'll let you rest." Numair took down the wards. Just as he was about to leave the room, Lindhall paused. "I almost forgot. Your party will be taking a tour of the menagerie tomorrow morning. Guides – most likely Varice and Kaddar – will meet you after breakfast."
Numair nodded, and Lindhall left, closing the door. Numair quickly changed to his night clothes and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, too tired to even dream.
--
"It went quite well last night," Duke Gareth said at breakfast the next day, "some of the imperial ministers are more forthcoming than others, but that is to be expected. I am particularly happy with the reports I've had of you, Daine."
Numair watched amused as the girl in question paused with her teeth halfway into a chunk of melon. She flushed, putting the melon back on her plate. "Me, Your Grace?"
"Emperor Ozorne heard from Master Lindhall that you cured his birds in one session," said Harailt, "The emperor is very pleased – says he has to think of a proper way to express his thanks."
Numair hid a frown. He didn't want Ozorne feeling any need to 'thank' Daine. He distracted himself by petting Zek, who, he had been touched to see, decided to sit on his lap.
"It's like that with some men in high places," said Gary, the Duke's son, "Things that would impress us have no effect on them, but a kindness done to creatures they love, they never forget. I hope you'll continue to stay on his good side. The ministers' definition of concessions they will and won't make changed to our benefit after the emperor thanked us for bringing you."
Speaking of creatures they love, "Which reminds me," Numair put in as he gave some food to Zek, "We're scheduled to have a tour of the imperial menagerie after breakfast."
"A menagerie?" Daine said nervously.
Numair knew Daine abhorred cages, so he assured her, "Ozorne would never ill-treat his animals."
"Don't slight him by staying behind," said Gary.
This time, it was Alanna who comforted Daine, wrapping an arm around the slim girl's shoulders. "She wouldn't think of it, Gary. Leave her be."
After breakfast, Varice and Kaddar arrived. Curiously, Numair saw Daine scowl as Varice kissed his cheek. "I shall walk with His Grace," Varice said, "but stay close please. You know so much more about animals than I do."
A few moments later, it was Numair's turn to scowl as Daine ended up having Kaddar as her escort. Numair knew the boy was seemingly decent enough, but he still did not like him being too close to Daine.
The group made their way over to the menagerie, where they past through a wrought-iron gate with the imperial seal of a sword, wand, crown, and jagged circle. A perfect summary of the land it represents, Numair thought dryly as they entered the menagerie.
A/N: Well? How was it?
(Innocent voice): Some of you may be wondering why I put so little flirtations with Varice in here, and most of the actual coversation with Varice was about Daine. Well, to be honest, I just don't like Varice very much, heheh. So i did my best to put as little as possible of her in here without making things choppy. So sorry (Although I dont think many of you are sorry)
If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to have each chapter match with those in the book, so that's what you can expect.
Oh yeah, who's excited for NUMAIR: THE EARLY YEARS? I only recently discovered that Tamora was planning to write it in the future and I was so happy! I was like "Yay! More Numair!"
And who's getting "The Dragon Book"? Where there's a oneshot with Daine and Numair? If you are, there wouldnt be a chance you could just send that one story to me? No? I suppose not. Well I'll probably just go to the bookstore when it comes out, and just read it there on the spot.
I also recently finished Bloodhound. Was it great or was it great?! I'm excited for the third! But I have to say, I still like Rosto better than Dale. Probably my favorite quote in that book is when Ersken was like "'Rosto heard that you made a new...friend...down here, and he's about as mad as a bear with a thorn in his...paw' He changed the bear anatomy after shooting a glance to the Goddess warior beside him" (That was not a word for word quote. My book is lent out, so i'm going by memory). Lawl.
REVIEW PLEASE!