A/n: Heheh...heheh...heheh...Okay, it's been a while. Alright, a long while. And rather than have you listen to all my dribbling excuses, let's just go straight to the chapter.
But first, I do want to let you all know that I'm participating in a contest for the DN Writers Faction forum, hosted by the lovely sylvanius. The prompt is called 'Crush' (that in itself should raise eyebrows).
My entry is called "Talks, Dancing, and Wagers". Please go read it and let me know what you think!
Alright, that's it on my part. Enjoy this chapter!
The welcoming visual that Ozorne had set up in his menagerie was certainly a grand one. The visitors were immediately greeted with a breathtaking show of nature, the type varying as one's eyes traveled around the room. Various cries and roars were heard around the room, and immediately the group started forward, studying seemingly content exotic animals in their manmade habitats.
"My uncle loves animals," Numair heard Kaddar say, "He tries to give them room, and the foods they prefer, and companionship. The ones that don't thrive in captivity he sends back to their homes."
This was certainly not new to Numair. The mage remembered how, when they were boys, the emperor-to-be would spend his spare time in his imperial petting-zoo. Later, when they were older, students at the university, he had refused to partake in any experiment that had used animals as test subject.
As gentle as these set of memories were, however, they were coupled with the vivid image of Ozorne gruesomely torturing a mute slave - a scene Numair had stumbled upon just a few days before the emperor had ordered the arrest for Arram Draper. It was one of his most vivid memories of Carthak. Even now, Numair remembered the slave's soundless shouts, the echoing crack of the whip, the sight of fresh blood splattered everywhere, the torturing devices on the table. Numair shuddered. He knew for a fact that if he had not escaped when he did, he too would have been brought to that torture chamber. It was also his witnessing of this that had compelled Numair to aid Lindhall in all ways Numair could in smuggling willing slaves out of the country.
A bump on his shoulder brought him back to the present. His reminiscing had only lasted a moment, but it was enough that they were deep in the menagerie.
On Varice's request, he followed her and the Duke at the head of the group, and as they stopped at each animal, he explained basic and interesting facts about each species. With Lindhall as his previous teacher and close friend, Numair's knowledge of the animal kingdom was vast, and his genuine interest and enthusiasm for the subject made him a more than suitable teacher for Daine.
Eventually, he became so wrapped up in the animals and the learning that his lectures to the others became musings directed toward himself. He didn't even notice when Lindhall called Duke Gareth and Varice to another exhibit. By the time he realized he was alone by the great, snow-white bears known as polar bears (found and imported from the far tips of the southern ice continent), the rest of the group had spread through out the menagerie.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daine wander to an insignificant turn past the anteaters and mongooses. He smiled and followed her, arriving to see her ogling large, unique canines.
"They're beautiful," she said.
Numair's grin widened at her admiration. Most did not call hyenas "beautiful". "Dangerous", "frightening", "bizarre", and "ugly" were the usual adjectives when it came to this species of animals, so it was nice to hear someone say otherwise.
"Spotted hyenas," Numair identified, entertaining her fascination with them. Daine didn't even flinch at his appearance. Numair quickly slipped into another academic lecture; except, this time, his victim was actually interested. "From the grass plains of Ekallatum, far to the south. Night hunters, for the most part—see the eyes?" He gestured to the predators' mirror-like eyes, similar to cats'. "They have the strongest bite of any mortal predator—it crushes even the bones of water buffalo. Hyena packs are matriarchal—"
"Matri-what?" Daine and Kitten inquired in different languages.
Numair smiled at his student, resisting the playful urge to tweak her nose. "Their society is ruled by females," he explained, "Each pack is led by sisters."
"Sensible of them," she grinned back. He fought back a chuckle. She was definitely spending too much time with Alanna.
Varice joined them, a little uncomfortably. Numair looked at her curiously. "Excuse me," she said, "I'm sorry. These animals aren't to be shown to visitors. I don't even know why the emperor keeps them, when he doesn't even like them." Numair's eye brow rose imperceptibly at that. His Imperial Highness, fanatic of animals of all kinds, disliking hyenas? This was different from what he remembered. In fact, if anything, Ozorne showed a slight favoritism towards them, for they're favorites of the Graveyard Hag, patroness of Carthak. Numair suspected that was the reason Ozorne kept them, if he truly did dislike them now. Still, what made his opinion change?
Deep in his thoughts, Numair hardly noticed when Varice led him away.
"Arr – Numair? Is something wrong?" Varice asked, clutching his arm. Her pretty blue eyes widened with innocent concern. Numair used to think her eyes lovely, that no color matched them. But as he looked at them now, he knew they were the same blue eyes most northerners had. He did not think them unique anymore. So why did an image of mischievous storm grey-blue eyes suddenly flash before him?
"No, it's nothing. Just lost in my thoughts as usual," Numair eventually answered, giving her a good natured grin.
"Well, how about we get lost in those gardens for a while instead?" she suggested flirtatiously, implication heavy in her tone.
Numair struggled to keep the grin on his face. Before, he thought flirting pleasant and fun, but now, it was tiring. Why? He wasn't that old. Not even thirty! (he refused to think of his birthday that was in a few months)
"As lovely as that sounds, I believe we are both on a tight schedule." It was a legitimate excuse. Shortly after their tour of the menagerie was the opening banquet, and after that was the first of the peace talks. Numair mentally sighed. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that.
Varice pouted, but sighed in resignation. "Yes, I suppose so. We've all grown now, haven't we? No more sneaking around the university, no time for getting 'lost' in the gardens…"
Numair put more weight on those words than she. "Yes, we certainly have." He was a mature man now, not a boy-student at the university. Mature men shouldn't have time for follies.
But Numair knew he would never 'grow-up' enough that he wouldn't have fun. He recalled nights out with George at the Dancing Dove, days with Alanna humiliating him in sword fights (she'd insisted Numair know how to use a physical weapon in case his magic was for some reason inaccessible), and afternoons with his magelet, who'd call for different animals and allow him to learn about them first hand. He supposed, however, his idea of 'fun' was just changing.
The prince was leading them through a second set of gates.
"This is my uncle's other collection. Each and every one was captured and brought here for causing trouble for humans." Numair frowned. What kinds of animals would this be? Most avoid humans, though some rabid and mentally ill ones have been known to inflict harm on humans unfortunate enough to cross their path. Still, Ozorne would not have caged them. He would have put them out of their misery.
Numair had his answer about a second later, when the "collection" came clear into his sight. His ears rang as Kitten screeched painfully, but he was too shocked to care. Immortals of all kinds, from coldfangs to centaurs, were caged and put on display, like idiotic zoo animals. Numair's eyes narrowed. "Collection" indeed. Of course the Emperor Mage would want to exhibit his power, his dominance over creatures of legend. Of course he would want to remind all and himself of that power anytime he wished to. How ironic that this confined zoo was located in juxtaposition with his airy menagerie. It was a perfect representation of Ozorne's two-faced personality: the man with an unusual love for animals, and the monster that lusted for power. Though, Numair supposed, his love for animals might be for the same reason he kept these immortals – they could be dominated, and brought under his control.
Numair was distracted from his disgust by Daine's incredulous voice. "I thought your uncle was allied with Stormwings!"
Curious, Numair thought. Why would she bring that subject up? He took another painful glance at the room. Sure enough, two Stormwings were also part of this zoo. One – the female - had a regal and commanding air around her. The male had angry, hungry eyes.
"He is," said the prince, "The price of the pact with the Stormwing King Jokhun was that Queen Barzha and her mate Hebakh be kept here. Believe me, she would have caused as much havoc in Carthak as Stormwings have in the north, if my uncle had not made the alliance."
Typical. Still, Numair was perturbed. What had Stormwings to gain from having a queen imprisoned? He supposed individual Stormwings would have ambitions, like humans, but that did not explain why Ozorne wanted this pair held captive. Why capture one queen, to put another king of the same kind in charge? What was so special, so dangerous, about this queen?
"What do you feed them?" Daine's voice, Numair was concerned to note, was shaking. In surprise or anger he did not know. But he could tell from the tenor of her voice she was about to lash out. He tried to put a hand on her shoulder and tell her to calm down, but she just shook him off. "Do you bring folk in and scare them, so they can live on that? And these cages are too small. The griffin can barely open its wings." Kitten added her own complaints. While Numair knew it was risky provoking and insinuating insult to their host, Numair couldn't help but feel pride for Daine's concern for the immortals, even though some were indeed, by nature, dangerous. She had come a long way from the impatient, prejudiced girl she was last year in Dunlath. Numair was reminded again of her growing maturity.
"They don't need food, and they don't require more room," said Varice (who, unbeknownst to Numair, was annoyed that Numair had left her side to go to Daine's). "You know these monsters don't fall ill and die. Unless you kill one, they live forever. Would you rather let them raid villages and destroy crops?"
And imprisoning only a sample of immortals would keep those things from happening? Numair thought wryly. Another curious thing, though. Carthak's villages and towns have not been plagued by immortals at all, other than the ones in this here, apparently. Numair knew this was no coincidence, but he didn't know how Ozorne kept the immortals away. What did he use?
Daine was obviously starting to offend their hosts however, and Duke Gareth diplomatically intervened, placing blame on Daine's aversion to cages. At his request, they exited the menagerie, and went to the shaded hanging garden, where Varice began to show them around, keeping Numair close to her.
When Numair went to his rooms to change, he was surprised to see Alanna there, leaning on the wall outside his door.
"Alanna? Is something the matter?" he asked.
She grinned at him. "What, a woman can't say hello to a friend?"
"You saw me just ten minutes ago," he pointed out.
"Yes, but I hardly spoke to you. You were too caught up with that blonde." Her grin turned in to a smirk.
Numair's cheeks turned pink as he unlocked his door. She followed him in.
"Are you serious about her?"
"I'd rather not discuss that with you. You're still in sword range."
She laughed. "Relax. I don't go around castrating every man I see, contrary to popular belief. Especially when the woman is clearly asking for it." She sat on a chair by the desk in his room.
Numair's blush darkened. "What would you like to talk about? Unless you are merely here to make fun of my taste in women?"
"Ah, see? Even you realize your taste is questionable."
Numair frowned at her.
She sighed, and sent her magic out, warding the room.
"Oh, so you do have something serious to talk of. Then why didn't you just start with that?" Numair muttered.
Alanna ignored him. "Have you…felt anything odd here?"
"Felt?" Numair said, frowning.
"Around some of the mages, I mean."
He pondered this. He had noticed that some of the important mages had placed strong mental barriers. But he had expected this. Most mages did that to prevent other mages from manipulating them through their minds. However, normally Numair could still get around the weakest of them. When he had told Daine he couldn't read her mind, that first night in the undine clearing, he had spoken the truth. What he could do, though, was capture, no, entrance, a mind. But he rarely does, and most educated people learn to block their minds anyway. Even if he can get around the weak barriers, he still wouldn't be able to use the entrancement spell. But sensing which barriers were weak does allow him to see 'where', so to speak, the mages put the heaviest of their mind barriers, which is often useful information. When scoping some of the higher mages' mind – as that was part of his job on this delegation – he had noticed that they had a strong barrier around an unusual place: the part of their brain they used to observe others – their sight, in other words. Normally, observations were of little consequence. It was the interpretations that had weight. However, seeing as the circumstances of these peace talks were unusual, Numair had believed that warranted for unusual actions. The mages were probably just being cautious.
Numair told this to Alanna, and she sighed. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid then."
"Did the Goddess tell you anything?" Numair asked, referring to Alanna's patron goddess. "Did your gemstone react to something?" He gestured to the pendant on her throat.
She shook her head. "No, but I expected as much. Even the Goddess's influence is weak here."
Numair nodded. This was, after all, the Graveyard Hag's domain. Her only one, and she kept a tight hold on it against her brother and sister gods.
"Was that it then? Or is there something else?"
Alanna nodded. "I thought you should know. On the way to my rooms, I overheard a conversation between Chioké and Kaddar. Chioké kept saying 'Remember your uncle's orders.' He also said, 'Make sure you do what you were told to do while spending time with the girl.'"
Numair frowned. "He means Daine," he said lowly. Alanna gave another nod.
Numair could feel the rage building up in him. If anyone so much as laid a finger on Daine…
The Lioness put a hand on the mage's shoulder. "Numair, calm down. If it helps, the prince looked pretty angry at Chioké."
Numair sighed, forcing his temper back. He had to remember: Lindhall trusted Kaddar. Numair himself would be aiding Kaddar in his rebellion. He knew, however, Kaddar was in an uncomfortable position, being the emperor's heir. Still…
As Numair pondered, he tried to smile at his friend. "Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it. I'll see what I can find out, and will keep you updated."
Alanna gazed at him steadily. "Numair, you can't let your emotions go awry. I know how much you care for Daine, and I know you're very protective of her, but you cannot provoke the imperial party while we're here. You'll only put her in more danger."
Numair sighed, and nodded. "I'm aware of that, Alanna. Don't worry."
"Then why am I?" she quipped.
"I'm serious. I'll be cautious."
Alanna let out a sigh of her own, and said, "Make sure you are. I'd best leave. The banquet is soon. Try not to lead that blonde on too much, okay?"
Numair's blush returned.
"Alanna…"
The Champion of Tortall grinned, took down her wards, and left.
Numair stared at his food queasily. The many colored sauces and the abstract shapes made his eyes dizzy; the foreign smells made his stomach lurch. He was at loss what to do. His stomach could not, would not, accept this exotic meal, but Varice would notice at some point that he hadn't consumed a bite. Currently, at least, she was preoccupied tending to all the foreign delegations.
He supposed, seeing how he didn't travel much in his youth, Varice couldn't have known the effects sea voyages had on him. He'd only left Carthak to go home on holidays periodically. While he was in Varice's acquaintance, though, he hadn't traveled at all – he had not been able to. After all, tensions between him and his best friend had been rising. No, Varice wouldn't have known that he'd have no tolerance for anything other than simple, mild foods after traveling.
Something on his knee made him look down.
Two palace dogs sat under his place at the table, mouths open, panting for food. Daine. He turned and caught her eye, gratitude leaking out of him. And people wondered why he was so protective of her. Daine knew him better than anyone.
Calling on his reserve of hand tricks, Numair swiftly and surreptitiously fed the dogs the food on his plate, his stomach quieting as he watched the food disappear.
When at last Varice came to him toward the end of the banquet, she took note of his empty plate and smiled. "Enjoyed the food?"
Numair gave a smile of his own, secretly amused. "It was lovely."
Numair sighed as he sat in the chair in front of his nameplate, his seat in the upper part of the Tortallan table. Here's where the hard work began. Numair knew that, at some point, Ozorne was going to make the peace talks as difficult as he could. He was surprised that the emperor had eschewed his pride and obstinacy long enough to even call for the talks in the first place. Numair knew, though, that Ozorne had a hidden agenda. He just had to determine what it was.
He listened in bored silence as the emperor of Carthak gave a predictable speech that made excuses for the openings in the barrier, lamented the chasm between Carthak and the other realms, and glorified the monarchs' desire to make peace. Numair could have practically recited the exact speech simultaneously with Ozorne. He sank farther into boredom as the other ambassadors gave equally predictable speeches.
Finally, Ozorne's delegates made their speeches. Most of them were uninteresting, but Numair paid close attention to Duke Etiakret's and Master Chioké's.
"The nobles of Carthak and I look forward to meeting all of you half way," said Duke Etiakret, representing the nobles and aristocracy of Carthak, "We have missed the close ties that had used to connect all the lands, and are eager to make amends. As you all know, Carthak is in the midst of troubled times and so we have no desire to create more grief. Furthermore, we hope to create a concord so that each realm can trust another.
"I will be honest: our barren lands create more and more worry in Carthak, and in myself. I have seen the growing slums of Carthak and the deteriorating state of my country's peasants, and this greatly troubles me. So be warned, I am determined to see to my country's improvement, and will put forth my best effort to establish an accord that will not only economically strengthen my country, but also other realms, should they be in need in the future.
"But with such benevolent parties present, I am sure my goal will be accomplished."
It was not the most effective rhetoric Numair had heard, but it was very informative. He had already known of Carthak's economic crisis, but now he knew the extent of it. If the aristocracy was getting nervous, then their desperation would be a driving force in Ozorne's scheme. Ozorne needed the aristocracy's wealth to maintain Carthak's rich façade and to supply his vast armies. But if the nobles were to get hesitant in spending and donating their purses, the imperial government would take substantial losses in their wealth and military. Numair knew Ozorne would not and could not allow that. Ozorne needed to provide his country with fertile land quickly. However, whether he would do that through peace or war, Numair wasn't sure. He was inclined to predict the latter, though.
Duke Etiakret had sat back down, and now Master Chioké stood to speak.
"Up until now, miracles have been only the work of the gods. Before this time, only they had the power to make these extraordinary events reality.
"But now – now, my friends, we live in an age of intelligence and will. Through mixing common sense with science, we have surpassed our ancestors knowledge-wise and more. Through the build up of hardships, we have developed a perseverance that the world has never seen. Knowledge is power. Determination is strength. We have continued to grow in both these areas steadily and increasingly. But now we are at the precipice of one of the gravest situations in history. Before, we would have surely fallen. But with our knowledge and intelligence, with our determination and will, perhaps we can slowly float away from the impending chaos. Perhaps we can make the impossible possible. Perhaps we too, can make a miracle."
Chioké seated himself again, and Numair scrutinized him. The ambiguous, vague speech worried Numair. He had no idea what to make of it. Was Chioké trying to remind them of the university's prominence? Was he suggesting a new innovation or discovery? Surely he was not insinuating humans could be on equal footing with the gods?
As Numair racked his mind to make sense of the speech, the Tortallan officials began to make their speeches. Absorbed in his thoughts, Numair hadn't noticed it was his turn until Alanna, sitting directly across from him, kicked his leg. He hastily stood up and recited a generic speech he had prepared – the mages and scholars of Tortall were really represented by Harailt – and quickly sat back down.
Giving up interpreting the mysterious lecture, Numair looked around the room. The speeches were wrapping up, but by now, most people in the room, excepting the clerks, who were scribbling furiously, had far away looks in their eyes – no doubt daydreaming. Numair's eyes then landed on Daine, who sat farther down the table next to Alanna, and saw her yawn. He smiled, recalling times she'd fallen asleep listening to lectures in which Numair would get carried away, speaking endlessly and forgetting about his audience. He watched as a clerk handed Daine a note. She read it, paused, then leaned around the knight to nod at Duke Gareth. Curious, Numair wondered what had been written in the note, until he saw Daine get up, and prompt Kitten. The dragon shook her head, and the girl shrugged and left the room, making her escape.
While Numair knew that there was no reason for her to be present, he was still uneasy with her alone in the palace while the entire Tortallan delegation remained in this room. But before he could worry too much, Numair saw Lindhall get up and follow his student out. Numair relaxed, and returned his attentions to the talks, which were now beginning.
Numair groaned as he stretched his limbs, getting out of his chair. The room had already begun filing out, and Numair followed suit. He didn't know why he had been so nervous for the talks today. He should have known nothing would get done. The negotiations hadn't been counterproductive, per se, but nothing interesting. Neither side wanted to bring up potential controversial issues the first day. Numair had listened with as much attention he could muster, but by the end of the talks, even he was fighting to keep alert.
Though, there had been one interesting part.
Each side was talking of their already established alliances. It was a standard procedure, mentioned to bring examples of the treaties the country had already made, as well as subtly incorporate the other foreign delegates present, and thus avoid offending them with neglect. Duke Gareth had already listed Tortall's main allies: the Yamani Islands, Galla, Tusaine, etc. Now Duke Etiakret listed Carthak's.
"And, recently, we've secured an alliance with the Copper Isles." With that, the duke sat.
Numair furrowed his brow. The Carthaki duke did not mention his country's alliance with any Stormwing nation.
He was not the only one to notice. The other foreign delegations murmured amongst themselves, and Alanna quirked an eyebrow in his direction. He shrugged.
Looking away from him, Alanna spoke, "May I inquire something, Duke Etiakret?"
The duke looked at her with slight disdain. "Of course, Lioness," he sneered. Obviously, the duke was a conservative, believing females had nothing intelligent to say.
Alanna ignored his patronizing tone. "I was under the impression that Carthak was also allied with a Stormwing nation. Is that no longer true? Has something gone awry in your dealings with the immortals?"
Duke Etiakret glared at her, but Numair could see him flush slightly. "I believe that is none of your party's concern, and would appreciate it if you didn't pry too much in our affairs."
Gareth the younger spoke up. "Meaning no disrespect, duke, but it does concern us. Tortall would like to know the alliances the country we're signing a treaty with has, so that we may avoid offending the allied nations and, consequentially, you."
The duke turned redder. "I—"
"Of course, Sir Gareth. We understand completely." Emperor Ozorne had decided to intervene. "Please forgive our duke's difficult behavior. We are still allied with the Stone Tree nation, and our ties with them are still very strong."
Duke Etiakret was still very red. With anger or embarrassment, Numair did not know. Obviously, though, the duke was not supportive of his country's alliance with Stormwings, and Numair couldn't help but wonder why.
Numair pondered this as he got dressed for the supper banquet. Again he wore his black robe, with a blue silk shirt. After putting on some jewelry, he made his way to the designated reception hall for the night, meeting a Gallan delegate along the way.
"Ah, you're Numair Salmalìn, famed black mage of Tortall, yes?" The man was a short man, with green eyes and blonde hair and a small build. He politely stuck his hand out in greeting.
Numair shook it. "I don't know about 'famed', but yes, I am he."
"I'm Duke Tholus Moremsra. We've heard a lot about you. This is your homeland, isn't it?" he asked as they walked together.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance. And no, not really. I was born in Tyra. I only studied at the university here. My home is Tortall now."
Duke Moremsra nodded. "I see. Well, what did you think of the talks today?"
They'd reached the reception hall. Stepping in, they continued their conversation by the wall near the door. "The mood was certainly amiable for the most part. But I really cannot judge now. There was nothing terribly exciting. But then again, what would you expect the first day?"
"True, true. It's politics you know. Always takes at least a week to begin to get to the point. On my part, I found today rather boring. I was at least expecting some swordfight or something along those lines, what with your Champion present," the Gallan joked.
Numair chucked. "Lady Alanna is not nearly as temperamental as you'd think. Well, when she doesn't wish to be, that is. But you're right, today was rather monotonous. My student actually left the rooms after nearly falling asleep in the first ten minutes."
Duke Moremsra laughed with him. "Wise of him."
"Her, actually," Numair corrected politely.
"That's right. The wild mage is your student. Is she not originally from Galla?"
Numair stiffened. "Yes, but she did not find your country the best suited for her, if you forgive my saying so."
"I suppose that makes sense. Perhaps we were not as kind as we should have been to Mistress Sarrasri," the duke said, knowing that the girl's last name would have given her grief.
"Yes, perhaps," Numair said emotionlessly.
"Relax, Master Salmalìn. Prejudice against bastard children is mostly concentrated in the north area of my country. I am from the southern area. Quite near the Tortallan border actually. There we do not put as much weight on the origins of one's conception."
"I'm glad to hear that," Numair said, relaxing slightly.
"She is important to you, yes?" Duke Moremsra inquired.
"Yes, very," Numair replied honestly. "She's one of the most important people in my life." The most important person, was the thought that entered Numair's mind. Surprised, he shook his head to rid himself of it.
The duke got a curiously knowing look in his eye, but before Numair could question him, he said, "Take care of her, then. I'll go on my way now, Master Salmalìn. It was a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sure we'll see each other again eventually."
"Ah…yes. It was a pleasure meeting you as well," Numair said, confused. The duke bowed and walked away.
Numair turned to find Daine waiting for him. Again, she wore an elegant and flattering dress that highlighted her maturity.
He smiled, and reached to brush an errant curl from her cheek. "You're becoming a young lady. If I'm not careful, you'll be grown and married to a deserving fellow before I realize it."
For some reason, his last sentence made his stomach lurch and a small voice whispered in his head, No one deserves her. Numair grimaced slightly, wondering what was wrong with him these days.
Daine, anyway, chose not to comment on his observation. Instead she whispered urgently, "When can we talk? You've got to find a way, somehow. It may be fair important."
His brows furrowed. "'It may be'?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure…I spoke to the badger yesterday," she finally revealed.
Now Numair's brows rose in surprise. She did? When? "Where?"
"Aboard ship. In my cabin," she answered. Now if Numair concentrated, he remembered Daine mentioning the need to talk to him on deck, but he had been too absorbed in his anxiety to note the request. Feeling slightly guilty, Numair paid close attention as Daine tried to explain the absolute necessity of a discussion without giving too much away. "He was…not himself."
His brows drew together again. "Not—" but then the doors on the opposite side of the room – leading to the banquet hall – opened. "Very well," he said hastily, but realizing that whatever the badger had said or done must have been important. "I'll try to develop some opportunity. They've scheduled these meetings so tightly we barely have time to scratch, let alone talk." Daine seemed satisfied with this reply, and together they followed the crowd through the doors.
In the banquet hall, Ozorne, in all his glory, waited by a large window. As the room quickly filled, two Stormwings flew through opening and landed on a golden rail beside Ozorne. One, with an iron crown, was obviously a Stormwing King. Probably the one Carthak was allied with. He and the emperor began to speak lowly to each other, but the king seemed reluctant as he gripped his rail. Numair suddenly remembered the only interesting part of the talks today.
Of course, Numair thought wryly, He wants to put to rest any doubts there might have been before and after the talks on their alliance. Only the Emperor Mage's desire to maintain Carthak's façade as a powerful nation with powerful allies would drive him to force Stormwings on his reluctant guests.
The second Stormwing began to shift uncomfortably on his part of the rail, and now Numair scrutinized him. Startled, the mage saw something familiar in the creature…
Frowning, he inquired, "Daine, isn't that—from Dunlath?"
"None other," his student replied dryly, looking at Rikash as well, "How nice for us all. We can have a reunion."
A/N: I have to admit, it was difficult figuring out the talks. I knew they would be important in Numair's side of the story, but it was hard figuring out the logistics. I hope they were satisfactory.
Reviews are always welcome! -hint hint-