The next morning, Onua briefly stopped by the room she'd had prepared for Numair. She told him where he could wash, eat, and get some new clothes, but then had to rush off to see to her duties as Horse Mistress. It was evening now, and Onua was back outside Numair's door. It was almost time for the meeting with the king. She knocked, and Numair opened the door.
"Goddess," Onua said in surprise. "I didn't realize you had a face under there."
The mage grinned. He had shaved his beard, as well as trimmed and pulled back his once scraggly mass of black hair. He'd also washed thoroughly and obtained a new set of clothes. The overall effect was quite nice, Onua had to admit, especially since he'd gained some weight during their time together and didn't appear half starved anymore.
"It surprised us both," he joked, stepping out into the hall beside her.
"I'm impressed that they found clothes to fit you," she commented as they began walking toward the palace.
"The seamstress must have worked some magic to make them fit right. I told her she didn't have to bother, but I think she took personal offense at the state of my clothes. She kept going on about how I was making her look like she wasn't doing her job properly."
"That sounds like our seamstress," Onua laughed. They chatted some more on their way to the palace, and reached the room where they would meet with the king in no time. Numair hesitated outside the door, but with an encouraging smile from Onua he followed her inside.
"Onua! It's good to see you!" She was immediately enveloped in a tight hug. When she finally extricated herself from the embrace, she was surprised to see who the other occupants of the room were.
"Alanna? What are you doing here?" Onua asked.
The knight grinned. "I heard you were introducing Jon to a new mage and wanted to see for myself."
"Buri? Sarge? I assume you're here for the same reason?" Onua said disapprovingly. Her friends voiced their affirmation, not even bothering to look abashed. "It was supposed to be a private audience, you know."
"You'll barely know we're here," Alanna promised, eyes twinkling.
"I doubt that," Onua grumbled, but her heart wasn't in it. She was glad to see her friends again.
"Are you going to introduce us or what?" Buri said, standing up and coming over to stand beside Alanna.
"I suppose so," Onua said. Numair stepped further into the room from where he had been lingering near the door. "Numair, this is Buriram Tourakom-"
"-Call me Buri-"
"-And this is Sarge. They're both officers in the Queen's Riders. This is Lady Alanna, the king's champion. You lot, this is Numair Salmalin."
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," the mage said, shaking hands with everyone as they were introduced.
"So tell me, Master Salmalin," Sarge said seriously. "How did you fall into such bad company?"
Onua rolled her eyes, but Numair matched Sarge's solemn tone. "Believe me, I ask myself that same question every day," he replied. The room was uncomfortably quiet for a moment, but then Sarge's lips twitched and they all began to laugh.
"What did I miss?" Came a voice from the doorway. Onua turned and saw the king of Tortall standing behind her.
"Nothing," Alanna snorted. "We were just getting acquainted with Master Salmalin, here."
"Why do I always miss the jokes?" Jonathan grumbled, coming into the room and sitting down.
"Because you're no fun," Alanna told him. The rest of the group followed his lead and sat down around the table. When they were all settled, the king turned his gaze to Onua.
"Well, Mistress Chamtong? Who is this?"
"This is Numair Salmalin," Onua told him. "Numair, this is King Jonathan."
The mage's eyes widened and he abruptly stood up. "Your Highness," he said, and bowed. Onua was confused for a moment, but then she remembered that Numair was used to a very different kind of royalty.
"Please have a seat, Master Salmalin," the king said. "Why don't you tell us how you came to this country."
Numair sat down, and with a quick glance at Onua, began his story. It was almost identical to the version he had told her after the bandit attack, but continued on past his arrival in Tortall to include his meeting with Onua and their journey to Corus. Alanna seemed particularly interested in that last part of the story.
"You said you threw lightning at them?" She interjected as Numair finished telling them about the bandits.
"That's right."
"How did you direct it?" She asked curiously. "I've read that electricity is too unpredictable to be a practical weapon."
"Actually, it's quite the opposite-" Numair began enthusiastically, and launched into a lengthy explanation of the mechanics of the spell which no one but Alanna seemed to follow. Onua, who had some experience with Numair's academic ramblings, listened with amusement and watched the baffled expressions of her friends' faces. When he finally finished, Onua said dryly:
"This is what happens when a man spends most of his adult life in a university."
Numair blushed. "Sorry. Weather magics are an interest of mine."
"Along with every other type of magic," Onua joked.
"Master Salmalin," Jonathan interjected. "Could you give us a moment please? We have a few things to discuss."
"Of course, your highness." Numair bowed again and left the room, returning Onua's slight smile as he closed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan turned back to Onua.
"He's telling the truth?"
"Yes," Onua said confidently. "I used my eyebright when he told me all that the first time. It's true."
"Can eyebright be fooled, though?" Buri asked. "If he's as powerful a mage as you believe, couldn't he find a way to disguise his lies?"
"I suppose it's possible, but what for?" Onua asked, frowning. "Why would he pretend to be a fugitive?"
"To spy on the Tortallan government," Alanna suggested.
"He could still be reporting back to the emperor for all we know," Sarge pointed out.
"No," Onua said, shaking her head firmly. "I don't believe that."
"How can you be sure?" Alanna asked. "You said yourself that the eyebright-"
"I don't need the damn eyebright to know when I'm being lied to," Onua snapped. "And you don't know Numair." The group was silent for a moment after her outburst, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. All I mean to say is that he's my friend and I trust him."
Jonathan leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "You're right. I don't know him," he said to Onua. "But I do know you, and I trust your judgement. If you say he can be trusted, then I believe you."
"Thanks, Jon," Onua said quietly. He gave her a small nod.
"And besides," he said, "someone with his skills could be very useful."
"Not to mention all he knows about Carthak and the emperor," Buri added. "If war ever comes, he could give us valuable information."
Jonathan nodded in agreement. "So it's decided," he said. "Onua, would you call our new friend back in?"
Smiling, Onua got up from the table and opened the door. Numair was leaning against the wall across the hallway, doing his best not to look nervous.
"Come on back in," Onua invited. He followed her back inside.
"I have one more question for you, Master Salmalin," Jonathan said. "As you probably know, relations between Tortall and Carthak are uneasy at best. Some say that war is inevitable. If it comes to that, gods forbid, how can I know for certain that you will not turn on us? You were in Carthak a long time, you must have ties there. How can we be sure that we have your loyalty?"
"It's true. I do have ties to Carthak." Numair paused, gathering his thoughts, then began to speak. "When Ozorne accused me of treason, he did it in the Imperial Audience Chamber. It was packed with people. If you've never been to Carthak before, suffice it to say that filling the emperor's audience chamber isn't easy. But I knew almost every single person in that room by name. I considered many of them friends." Numair swallowed hard, bitterness creeping into his voice. "But when Ozorne had me dragged away in chains, that room was silent as a crypt. Not one of them said a word in my defense. I grew up with those people, ate with them, studied with them, laughed with them. But if Ozorne had decided to execute me then and there, I have no doubt that not a single one of them would have protested. I would have done anything to protect my friends, but none of them would do the same for me. It took me a long time to realize it, but those were no true friends. They never deserved my loyalty." He took a deep breath. "But the friends I've made here..." he gave Onua a small smile, "they do. If it comes to war, I'll fight for Tortall."
Jonathan glanced at Onua, who gave him a slight nod as she pulled her hand away from her pouch of eyebright. The king nodded thoughtfully.
"In that case," Jonathan said, "I'd like to offer you a position at the Royal University. I expect it will be a step down from what you're accustomed to, but I hope you'll find our resources adequate."
Numair grinned. "Beg you pardon, your highness, but what I'm used to is cheating people out of their spare coins on a street corner and hoping I can find a dry place to sleep at night. I expect the Royal University will be quite an improvement."
Jonathan returned the smile. "I see your point." Turning to the rest of the people in the room, he yawned and said: "If that's all, I'm going to bed. I have an early meeting tomorrow."
Recognizing the dismissal, they said their good nights and filed out the door. But as Numair was about to leave, Jonathan called after him.
"Master Salmalin," he said. Numair turned and looked back at the king.
"Yes, your highness?"
Jonathan smiled. "Welcome to Tortall."