Emeth inhaled a sharp breath before turning to bolt. Unfortunately, Ambassador Rishtan anticipated this action and caught him by the back of his tunic, hauling him into the room before closing the door. Emeth swallowed, looking from Rishtan to Ilsometh to the door that was his only escape.
"It appears that our plan has grown a little more complicated, Ambassador," Ilsometh said, voice strangely calm.
"So it would seem," Rishtan agreed. The room went quiet for a long moment as the ambassador visibly thought. Emeth couldn't manage to say a word, and even if he could have he knew enough about the ambassador and Ilsometh Tarkaan not to speak.
"Alright, Boy," Rishtan finally growled, stepping in close to Emeth in order to crowd him. "Here's how this will work. As of this moment, if you wish to live past tomorrow night, you will hold your tongue about all you have heard. I can guarantee that the venerable Ilsometh Tarkaan knows far more ways to kill a man, even a poor excuse for one such as you, then you could ever dream of. You will tell no one of this plan, lest you find out what those ways are. After all, as the poets have said, "Silence is more precious than gems." Am I understood?"
Emeth's throat worked, unable to make a sound.
"He asked if you understood him, Boy," Ilsometh Tarkaan growled, suddenly much closer to Emeth's back than he'd thought.
"Yes," Emeth whispered.
"Good, then we are agreed. Ilsometh, if you will see our young friend back to his room; he is tired, and will have no need to leave until tomorrow night for the feast. Please do what you can to ensure that no one bothers him while he rests."
"But of course, Ambassador," Ilsometh said smoothly, taking firm hold of Emeth's shoulder.
Which was how Emeth found himself locked in his room (in the back of his mind he wondered how Ilsometh had gotten an external key) with a stern warning to keep his mouth shut.
"I know more than just how to kill slowly," he'd said, eyes glinting darkly as he fingered his dagger. Satisfied that Emeth was suitably terrified, Ilsometh had smiled and left.
Which meant that Emeth was alone, with no plan for how to warn either the Archenlanders or the Narnians that their lives were in danger, and no way to execute that plan even if he did. For the first time since he'd still been in his nursery, he felt tears pricking at his eyes. He looked heavenward.
"Tash, or whatever gods the Narnians and Archenlanders worship, please hear my plea: your servants are in danger, and only I can help them. An evil plot has taken form, and unless I can warn them, the kings and queen and princes will be killed. I can do nothing but by your will and through your aid, so please hear my prayer and grant me your help."
Suddenly feeling as exhausted as Rishtan was pretending he was, Emeth sat down and stared blankly into space. Gradually, he began to focus again, looking around the room. Though it had been his home for the duration of their visit, he had never really paid much attention to what it held. There was the usual bed and other furniture, and enough ornaments that it did not feel barren, though it was obviously still a guest room.
The thing which truly caught Emeth's eye, and somehow had not before, was a small wall hanging with a very intricately embroidered lion on it. He remembered Lord Cole, on the day he'd first started getting to know Corin, swearing by a lion, and recalled at other points during his stay at Anvard when others had done something similar. He did not know what it was with northerners and their lions, but it appeared that there was something more to it than just fascination.
As he was looking at the lion, he felt a shiver go down his spine and he suddenly had a feeling that something big was going to happen. He turned to see a bird hovering outside his window. It flew closer, pecking on the glass pane insistently. Finally, Emeth rose and opened the window. Just then, the bird flew away, leaving Emeth to look down. He was several stories up from the ground, but the room just below his window opened onto a balcony. And Emeth suddenly had a plan.
OoOoOoO
When Aravis and Cor had married, they had jointly moved into a suite of rooms slightly further away from King Lune and Corin, so as to give themselves a bit more privacy. Aravis loved these rooms, each carefully decorated by her. Though she had despised such things in her youth – homemaking and decorating and the like – when she was a little older she had grown to appreciate it a bit more. Not as much as a good tarkheena usually did, but enough for a princess of Archenland. And enough for herself. The room had touches of Calormene styling, such as some of their fine silks and small decorations. The most notably of these was the scimitar Aravis had kept with her during her escape north, and which now hung, unsheathed, on the wall. This was what Aravis reached for after stifling a shriek when a figure landed heavily on her balcony.
"What – who – what are – what in the Lion's name!?" she finally decided on, taking up a defensive stance. The figure straightened, revealing itself to be the young tarkaan, her unclaimed younger brother.
"Please, Highness, forgive me, but we haven't much time!" he said quickly, holding up his hands. "Your lives are in danger!"
Aravis saw that he was unarmed, and obviously very earnest, and lowered her scimitar a fraction.
"Come further into the room; it wouldn't do for anyone passing by to see you standing out there, looking like a murderous crow."
OoOoOoO
It had not taken long for Princess Aravis to gather the needed people, Emeth observed as he sat before Princes Cor and Corin, King Edmund, Queen Lucy, and to his deep surprise, Ashri Tarkaan. The older tarkaan also looked confused about what was going on.
"Emeth Tarkaan has news for us," Aravis said to the room at large. "According to him, we are all in grave danger."
"From who?" Ashri asked, looking quizzically at them all.
"If I may answer, my lord tarkaan," Emeth said quietly. Everyone's full attention shifted to him. "As I went to Ambassador Rishtan's door, I overheard him plotting with Ilsometh Tarkaan. They plan to poison the boar at tomorrow's celebration. Most of their party would have been spared, but when Ilsometh Tarkaan questioned whether they ought to inform… well, if they ought to inform Ashri Tarkaan, Ambassador Rishtan decided that it would make the Calormene party appear less culpable if some of their party were killed as well."
Emeth sat back, watching as everyone absorbed his words. King Edmund and Prince Cor appeared the most composed, while Queen Lucy and Ashri Tarkaan exchanged a long look that showed their displeasure. Corin leapt up, shouting something about boxing someone, before his brother pulled him back down with a sharp glance. Princess Aravis' eyes flashed, though she had been the first to hear of his warning.
"They plot mass murder on a diplomatic mission?" Prince Cor said, voice low and dangerous.
"So I overheard, your Highness."
"Emeth, if you will pardon my asking, how did you come to find yourself in Aravis' company?" King Edmund asked. Emeth reddened a bit.
"Well, your Majesty, my room is just above this one. After they discovered my hearing, Ilsometh Tarkaan locked me in and warned me to keep silent. And then, when this bird kept tapping on my window, I saw that their Highnesses balcony was just below. Well, I didn't know it was their balcony at the time; I had planned to look for Prince Corin. My countrymen will kill me when they find out!" Emeth said, suddenly panicking.
"Peace, my young friend," Queen Lucy said soothingly.
The room fell silent for a long moment, and then King Edmund sighed.
"Well, I am inclined to trust the young Emeth Tarkaan," he said to the room at large.
"You know I side with you, Ed," Queen Lucy said, her voice still troubled, although underlying that was a degree of fondness Emeth had heard Corin use when speaking to Cor (when they weren't arguing, that was).
"Of course I trust you, Emeth," Corin said vehemently.
"I have known Emeth Tarkaan's father, Kidrash Tarkaan, for many years," Ashri said slowly. "And I would trust his son to be an honorable man as well."
"I cannot speak to that, but I will trust him as well," Prince Cor agreed. "Aravis, my love?"
The Calormene girl swallowed, and looked into Emeth's eyes.
"I believe him as well."
"Very well then," King Edmund said. "Now we must only outplay our enemy. Does anyone else here play chess?"
Author's Note: So uh… hi there. Two years. Wow. Time flies, doesn't it? Even though I lied about update times in my last chapter, I legitimately am writing the concluding chapters for this now. There should be two, maybe three left. And yes, I discovered during my writing of this that I 100% am shipping Lucy and Ashri Tarkaan together. Don't worry, it won't be a main focus in this or in later chapters, but I am going to have it there.
Best!