The Mazidaran Emissary had heard many wondrous tales about the fabled Throne Chamber of Lodar. He was looking forward to his first visit to this plush court that had once ruled over all of the Tandarian plains. Getting to see the Emperor, however, proved to be no easy task, since protocol demanded that the Emperor keep the foreign emissary waiting for an appropriate period of time. In the meantime, Raj managed to enjoy the exotic comforts readily available in Lodar. Akkra had put the time to good use, between his escapades at local taverns, brothels, and the quest for the betrothed of the Prince of Mazidar.
The day for his audience with the Emperor had been set when he first arrived, and that day was fast approaching. Akkra's impatience began to increase as the day drew nearer. Once his personal obligations to seek out Tathi had been satisfied, he was only concerned about completing this part of his mission and escaping from Lodar as quickly as horses would permit.
The Mazidaran had a surprisingly small number of servants and dignitaries with him when he departed for the Imperial Court and his audience with Emperor Mith-Cor.
First in the procession were Elzar Akkra and Harish Kar, the only warriors in the small contingent. Each was attired in the traditional warrior dress of Mazidar. Dark tunics, brass trappings on the boots and legs, short leather cape that protected against the wind and rain, short sword and scabbard, and round shield. The only equipment they lacked were their bows and arrows.
Next in order came Dak Akkra, resplendent in blue silk tunic, polished leather boots, gold-decorated belts and decorations. He wore no cape and carried only a small, jewel-encrusted dagger.
Following Akkra in the procession was Tran, dressed more conservatively in a dark tunic and tights. He wore a dark full-length cape and carried no weapons.
Bring up in the rear of the procession was Mazzan Tor, another warrior who was now dressed in civilian garb. He wore the shirt and pants usually worn by the artisan classes, with the exception that his garments were of the finest embroidered silks. Mazzan Tor also carried no weapons, not even the ceremonial daggers usually worn by merchants and artisans. Mazzan Tor directed two Lodaran freemen, hired by the entourage to carry two large chests from the Emissary's quarters to the palace.
The small procession moved slowly down the Avenue of the Conquering Emperor (what had formerly been the Avenue of the Sun before being renamed by Mith-Cor's father). Scattered crowds of Lodarans paused to watch the procession pass by. There were frequent outbursts and demonstrations against the foreigners, whom many associated with the increasing rumors of barbarian invasions. These were quickly stifled by the Imperial Guard that rode protection for the Mazidaran procession.
Not all Lodarans were antagonistic to the Mazidarans. A few Lodarans sympathetically cheered the procession on, seeing Mazidar as a friendly ally. These individuals, however, were definitely a minority.
The Emissary attempted to ignore the demonstrations, confident in the Imperial troops to maintain order. Instead, Akkra concentrated on examining the buildings that faced the Avenue of the Conquering Emperor. Most of these were public buildings, temples, and palaces belonging to long established Lodaran nobility. The Mazidaran found himself comparing the richness of these buildings with the older, simpler, and more provincial architecture of Mazidar's buildings.
Akkra had a rare appreciation for architecture, having seen a wide variety of architectural styles during his long searches for Tathi. The architecture of Mazidar was dull, functional -- very appropriate to a provincial capital. It could not compare to the extravagant styles he saw in Lodar. Soaring towers and minarets, expansive stair- ways, open verandas. The predominant building material appeared to be polished white marble that gleamed extravagantly in the mid-morning sun. The marble was undoubtedly from distant Zepore Mountains, more than three days distant by horse.
Akkra frowned as he contemplated that thought. While the imperial palaces and buildings might appear grandiose and beautiful, there was an ugly aspect to them. Slaves had been used to bring that marble down from the mountain quarries. Even now, with the slave trade in a decline, the Lodaran's disregard for the lives and welfare of its slave population was all too evident. What had been the lot of the slaves ten, twenty, thirty years earlier when these buildings were erected? Had it been any better? Akkra didn't think so.
Suddenly, the glorious buildings of Lodar did not look so glorious.
Akkra had a renewed respect for Mazidar, the city he regarded as home. It might be provincial in its appearance, its buildings might be more modest than those of Lodar, but it was a city built by free and independent artisans. As he thought about it, Akkra wasn't sure why Mazidar's artisans couldn't build edifices as fine as those of Lodar, but he was convinced there must be some logical explanation. Perhaps it had to do with the different economies of the two countries. Lodar's nobility exploited the populace, while Mazidar's nobility tended to do more for its population.
Akkra had a ready explanation for that distinction. King Taja Dak of Mazidar had been a mountain chieftain, responsible for the welfare of a hill tribe. Those traditions of responsibility to the tribe had been transferred to the peoples of Mazidar when Taja Dak, along with his tribal followers, had come to the plains of Mazidar and found themselves embroiled in a rebellion between Madizar and Lodar. Taja Dak sided with the weaker forces of Mazidar, turning the tide of battle. After the battle, the people of Mazidar chose Taja Dak as their ruler. The unique relationship between chieftain and tribe that Taja Dak had maintained was transferred to king and subjects. Of all the kings of Tandaria, perhaps only Taja Dak had the full support of the people.
The procession was now nearing the Imperial Palace. The procession stopped just short of the intersection of the Avenue of the Vengeful Gods which ran in front of the Imperial Palace. On the other side of this avenue, the Avenue of the Conquering Emperor dead-ended in a long flight of stairs that led into the palace. On each side of the stairs was an enormous statue of Att, rising the height of six men standing one on top of the other. On the left side was Att in his destroyer role; on the right was Att in his creator role. Akkra knew that the statues were probably hundreds of years old, since it had been that long since Att was worshipped in his creator manifestation.
The procession crossed the Avenue of the Vengeful Gods and started slowly up the wide steps that led to the main entrance of the Emperor's court. The palace itself was huge, almost four times larger than the King of Mazidar's palace. Its entire front wall, extending four hundred feet in either direction from the main gate, was covered with bas- relief carvings of Lodaran gods, goddesses, emperors, and heroes. Akkra could only see part of the carvings, but what he did see did not accord accurately with the history that he had learned.
The main gates of the palace opened inwards and spanned the entire 100 foot expanse of the stairway. Each door was fifty feet across and seventy feet tall. As the procession moved slowly up the 100 steps of the stairway, the doors slowly and ponderously swung open. As Akkra got closer, he saw that the doors were mounted on stone wheels spaced every few feet along the bottom of the door. The floor was grooved where the wheels, which must have been replaced many, many times over the years, had worn down the floor of the palace. From the outside, Akkra could not see how the doors were opened or closed. His curiosity was aroused and he determined that he would find out.
The entrance chamber was dark and gloomy compared to the bright morning glare outside. However, Akkra's eyes quickly adjusted to the decrease in light. This chamber was large, almost one hundred feet in height. The room was nearly one hundred and twenty feet wide and one hundred and sixty feet long. Enormous tapestries covered the two side walls, their intricate weave depicting more scenes from Lodaran history. These scenes were more recent than those on the front wall of the palace and showed Mith-Cor's ancestors establishing the Lodaran Empire. Again, Akkra's memories of history did not match the weaver's.
At the far end of the chamber, a reception party awaited Akkra's group. As the group entered the entrance chamber, Lodaran warriors emerged from two sides to form an escort. The Zindar in charge of the warriors bowed to Akkra.
"My lord, permit me to escort you to the Imperial Audience Hall."
Akkra bowed slightly in acquiescence. He continued to march towards the reception party, unconcerned whether the Zindar kept up with him or not. The Lodaran warrior quickened his stride and caught up with Akkra.
Akkra reached the end of the entrance hall, further progress being impossible with the reception committee standing between him and the Imperial Audience Hall. Akkra stopped before the group. The Lodaran warrior bowed stiffly to the head of the reception group.
"My lord, may I present the Mazidaran Emissary."
"Thank you, Zindar Lodhi Bahr," said the man. He turned towards Akkra. "Welcome, my lord. My name is Jab Khan, Councilor to the Emperor."
"The reputation of Jab Khan is well known in Mazidar, my lord, both for your former feats of heroism and for your current habit of wise and judicious counsel. It is an honor to meet you at last." The emissary bowed deeply.
Jab colored slightly, but quickly recovered his composure. He was not sure whether to believe the sincerity of this flattering banter. He decided that the Mazidaran was just trying to create dissension. He stiffened and demanded Akkra's credentials and letters of authority.
Akkra bowed once more and gestured to Tran, who hurried over to Akkra's side. Tran handed the requested documents to Akkra, who passed them over to Jab Khan. The Lodaran took them, his expression now almost antagonistic. Jab unfolded the parchment and read the contents. His jaw dropped in surprise as he read quickly down the page. He looked unbelievingly at Akkra, then turned slowly towards the main Audience Hall. He indicated with a wave of his hand that the Mazidarans and their Lodaran military escort were to follow him.
The group entered the main audience hall and stopped, waiting for their presence to be announced to the Emperor. Mith Cor was not yet in attendance. Akkra knew that Mith Cor held public audience to hear the grievances of his people only on rare occasions. This special audience session, to meet with the Mazidaran emissary, was more common. Mith Cor apparently did appreciate the pomp and glory of holding State court.
The Lodar Throne room was renowned throughout all of Tandaria. The room was nearly 400 feet square, with a ceiling that rose 160 feet. Above the far end of chamber was a dome that extended another 200 feet. The overall effect was one of vastness, dwarfing the people inside the room into insignificance.
Galleries, perhaps ten in all, rose up three walls of the room, permitting members of the royal family, Imperial guards, or privileged nobles to observe the activities in more comfort or seclusion.
Immense columns, twenty-four of them, each so large in circumference that it would take five men to stretch their arms around it, rose majestically to support the ceiling. No columns cluttered the area under the dome. This was reserved for the single object which dominated this portion of the hall -- the Rala Throne.
The Rala Throne rested on a dais nearly ten feet above the floor of the hall, providing the Emperor a commanding view of all who stood in the room. Golden steps led up to the Throne. The throne itself was flanked by two smaller thrones, each one of which would be worth more than all the gold, silver, and gems contained in the treasuries of any of the princely kingdoms of Tandaria. Yet, compared to the Rala Throne, they were merely gaudy imitations.
The Throne was imposing in size, almost twice the normal size of a throne, making it clearly visible even at the far end of the Throne Chamber. Its fan back, depicting the creation of earth by Att, radiated with an iridescence that surpassed the capabilities of the gemstones themselves. Puzzled, Akkra asked Jab about the cause of the remarkable scintillation of the gemstones.
Jab pointed towards the dark recesses of the dome. "Positioned at precise points throughout the entire surface of the dome are small lenses that capture and direct the light from the sun, Your Excellency. The dome, as well as the Rala Throne, were constructed by the master craftsman, M'Chas the Wizard, one of the ancient priests of Att. He designed the dome so that as the sun moves across the firmament, it sends its light down through different lenses and prisms. Each beam of light catches a different type of gem, depending upon the time of day and the season. In the hot season, the throne is green by mornings and blue in the afternoon. In the cool season, the light hits not the emeralds and sapphires, but the diamonds in the morning and the rubies in the afternoon." Jab paused, then pointed at the throne, now slowly shifting from green to blue. "You are indeed fortunate, My Lord. Your audience with His Royal Highness comes at a propitious time. Mith-Cor is always most kindly disposed when the throne burns blue."
The immense hall was now filled with dignitaries, foreign representatives, nobles, and warriors. Akkra spotted a few faces he could recognize from his earlier excursions around Lodar. A couple of more individuals were known to him from extensive descriptions and drawings produced by Mazidar's spies and informants. Most of the faces were simply strangers who stared at the small group of Mazidarans with a certain amount of distrust and contempt. Even after all these years, there was little affection between the two countries!
Akkra noticed a commotion at the far end of the chamber. Slaves, bearing drums of assorted sizes, began to file into the throne chamber from each side of the dais. The drums were quickly set up, and at a signal from Jab, the slaves began to slowly pound on the drums. More and more quickly, the cadence increased, as more of the musician slaves began to pound on the varied drums. Soon, the entire hall vibrated with the thunderous beat that assaulted the senses. Akkra watched the impact of the music on the audience, seeing that they were as enthralled by the compelling beat as he was. Then, as it seemed that the sounds could not get any louder or more compelling, the drummers stopped.
Silence rushed in to fill the void. No one dared even to breathe, least the perfection of the silence be marred. All eyes turned towards the dais, expectantly. Even Akkra found himself straining to catch a sight of the Emperor as he made his entrance. An eternity seemed to pass, then there was a sign of movement on the dais. A door opened behind the throne, and the Emperor, resplendent in his robes of state, walked slowly to the front of the throne. Behind him, looking equally imposing, was Nest-kor. When she finally stood in front of her throne, a loud gong clanged. Instantaneously, all the assemblage fell to their knees, bowing their heads to the ground in the Emperor's direction.
Only the party from Mazidar remained standing.
The Emperor's eyes focused on the Emissary and his party. It was too far away for Akkra to tell, but he was positive that Mith-Cor's brow furrowed in anger. Akkra smiled to himself, then gave a subtle sign to his party. They dropped one knee to the ground in the traditional bow of the Mazidaran court. Unlike the Lodarans, however, they did not lower their eyes or touch their heads to the ground.
The Emperor seated himself on the Throne. Akkra rose, followed by all those with him. Another gong sounded, and the Lodarans also stood up, many beginning to mutter in consternation at the audacity -- or stupidity -- of the Mazidaran entourage.
Jab was staring at Akkra in disbelief. "My Lord, please do not do anything like that again. His Imperial Highness absolutely insists on protocol."
Akkra shrugged. "We are less formal in Mazidar, I fear. I may never get used to all of this pomp and show."
Jab shook his head in consternation, then gestured for the Mazidarans to follow him as he approached the throne. As they headed slowly towards the throne, the drums again took up their cadence, this time more briskly and more appropriate to a marching beat. Simultaneously, doors opened on either side of the vast hall, and hundreds of Imperial Guards of the Peacock Lakari filed in, taking positions along the route that Akkra's party must transverse. The small group continued it journey towards the throne along the channel created by the Guards.
Jab indicated to them to stop when they were about twenty feet from the foot of the steps leading up to the throne. This was actually the closest one could get to the throne and still look at the Emperor without getting a sore neck. Of course, the Emperor, looking downwards, had no such concern.
The gong sounded once more, then the drums began another roll. Two processions began to file towards the center of the hall from either side of Akkra's party. One one side came the Priests of Att, led by the High Priest of Att, Rati Bajah. He was accompanied by almost a dozen of his most trusted priests. None of these were known to Akkra, an indication of Att's secrecy more than a deficiency in Mazidar's espionage.
From the opposite side came the Ministers of State: Dundar Gazi, Minister of Taxes; Kao Pareg, Minister of Estates. Akkra knew these men by reputation only. The first robbed the people of their money; the second gave it to the nobility. The third minister in line was the Minister of the Treasury, Lak Kowan, also known as "The Slaver." This was an individual Akkra had more intimate knowledge of, since many of the people forced into slavery by this despicable travesty of humanity were Mazidarans stolen from their farms and villages. Akkra yearned for an opportunity to cross swords with this man.
The three ministers were then followed by the military contingent of Mith Cor's closest advisors. The first of these was Nar Sidthar, Magar of the Inner Army, the man responsible for maintaining internal order within the boundaries of the Empire. The Emissary recalled Tadran Dro's comment of Nar Sidthar: "The man has the mind of a cow; he will go wherever he is led. Unfortunately, he is being led by unscrupulous and evil men."
Following Sidthar were two equally powerful men, also Magars of Lodar's Armies. First was Shanti Raj, the Magar of the Imperial Guard, the husband of Tathi, the man with responsibility for protecting the Emperor and the City of Lodar. Of all the ministers, this man was the most competent and compassionate. Mazidar regretted that he represented such a minority view within Mith Cor's council chambers.
Lastly came the one man in Lodar that Akkra was most desirous of seeing -- Balder Khan, Minister of War. Where Shanti Raj was competent and compassionate, Balder Khan was competent and ambitious. He was the only commoner among the ministers to Mith Cor. This was a constant sore spot with the nobility, who vastly resented Balder Khan's extraordinary rise to power and position. When it came to assigning responsibility for protecting the Empire, Mith Cor demonstrated some backbone and placed ability ahead of birth. It was a decision that made the Empire strong. It was a decision that turned the nobility irrevocably, if only secretively, against the Emperor.
Akkra stared at the War Minister much more intently than he had done so at the others, willing Balder Khan to look at him in response. Their eyes met. Was that a flicker of recognition? Akkra wondered. Did Balder Khan recall their last encounter? Did an enemy lie behind those impassive eyes, or a potential friend? Their eye contact lasted only a brief moment, then the procession moved on. Akkra finally decided that nothing had passed between them at all.
The two processions took up positions on either side of the Mazidarans. The drums stopped, and the ministers and priests all bowed to the Emperor. This time, the Emissary's party was quick to follow suite.
Jab stepped up to the foot of the steps that led up to the throne. He bowed, waiting for his Emperor to recognize him. Mith Cor wagged a finger, barely perceptible to most in the crowd, but a clear signal for Jab to climb slowly up the steps. He took up a position on Mith Cor's left. Then he slowly opened the sheets of parchment. He waited until silence again reigned in the hall.
The crowd waited expectantly for Jab to speak. Everyone knew who was to meet the Emperor this day, most had heard stories about the unconventional emissary, and many had come into brief contact with the Mazidaran. Reactions to him were mixed. Before his arrival, most Lodarans had a distrust of Mazidar. Since meeting the Emissary, this distrust had been mollified. Now the general feelings were that Mazidar did not represent as much of a danger as had been thought. Only a select few saw through the illusions Akkra had created and continued to worry about Mazidar.
Jab's voice boomed out over the assemblage. "May it please His Imperial Highness, Mith Cor, Emperor of Lodar and all its dominions! The Emissary of Mazidar seeks audience with the Emperor!"
Akkra stepped forward and bowed, first to Mith Cor, then to Princess Nest-kor. Both regarded him icily.
Jab paused, then continued. "My Lord Emperor, may I present to you the Emissary of Mazidar, His Royal Highness, Raj Akkra, Prince of Mazidar, Heir to the Throne of Mazidar!"
"The Prince of Mazidar!" The crowd seethed with excitement and consternation. The reaction of the crowd was mixed. Mazidar, with a reputation for being one of the most open of the Tandarian kingdoms, was still a mystery to the people of Lodar. This mysterious kingdom had never revealed a more startling secret than this unknown scion who would one day sit on the throne of Mazidar. Most of the comments expressed this vague feeling of surprise.
Some of the shouts were of anger, claiming fraud and misrepresentation. Why had this frivolous man insulted Lodar with his masquerade? These voices called for retribution, punishment, imprisoning the Prince to show Mazidar a lesson in diplomacy.
A few of the voices, all attractive young noble women, even boasted of intimacy with royalty. These voices were quickly silenced by outraged family members, brothers, or fiances.
And an even smaller number of the observers said nothing at all. Balder Khan was among this group. He was not concerned with startling revelations, petty issues of respect or protocol, or amorous adventures. He was studying the features of the man, the way he walked, spoke, carried his body. Yes, yes, this was the same man who entered the Conqueror's camp at Matkot five years earlier. He was older now, heavier, more sure of himself, but it was the same man. What was a Mazidaran prince doing up in the northern parts of Lodar then? wondered Balder Khan. What was he doing here now?
Jab gave the people only the barest of moments to pour out their emotions before he began to pound with scepter on the stone dais. "Silence in the Court of Emperor Mith-Cor! All be silent!" At a sign from the court crier, the Peacock warriors withdrew their swords in unison, and as one man, hit the tile floor with the tips of the blades. The noise produced by hundreds of swords was enough to catch the attention of the crowd. The muttering rapidly died down.
The Emperor shifted his weight in his throne, as though the startling revelation had made him uncomfortable. "Prince Akkra, we are indeed surprised by your letter of introduction. Two minor issues perplex me, Prince of Mazidar. Perhaps you would be kind enough to enlighten me. Firstly, if it please you, how is it that Mazidar has an heir that the world knows nothing about? Is this a commonplace occurrence you your province?"
"Your Highness, I was born barely an hour before the battle that won Mazidar its rightful independence as an independent kingdom. In that battle, many things occurred, some fortunate and some unfortunate. One of the latter was the death of my mother, from complications in childbirth. Since the King of Mazidar chose not to take another wife, he and his ministers decided not to reveal my existence. The people of Mazidar are not so enlightened as they are here in Lodar. In my kingdom, the line of succession passes down through the males, while here it can pass through either the male or female offspring." Akkra smiled broadly at Nest-kor. She met his smile with frigid indifference.
"But that secrecy only lasted the first part of my life," continued the Prince. "For some time now, my existence has been common knowledge, Your Highness." The Mazidaran smiled pleasantly. Tandan Dro had told him this would be the easy part of his mission, but Akkra still found these half-truths and misdirections of fact the hardest part of his job. By the Gods of Tandaria, he hated being a diplomat! "What was your second question, Your Highness?"
Mith Cor snorted his disbelief at Akkra's first answer. "Please be so kind as to tell us why you have chosen to ignore the niceties of common courtly convention by keeping your true identity a secret?"
Akkra stepped closer to the stairs. For the first time, he appeared to hesitate, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say. He now spoke more quietly, so that only those closest to Mith Cor could hear his words. "If it please Your Majesty, we had good reason to travel throughout your Empire and cities as lesser figures of state than what we were. But I would prefer to discuss these reasons with you in a less public arena."
Mith Cor's lip curled in impatience. He made no attempt to keep his conversation quiet. "Mazidaran, speak your mind in my court. There is nothing that the assembled nobles, ministers, and people of Lodar cannot be privy to. We harbor no secrets in Lodar!"
Akkra sighed, yet a part of him was pleased that Mith Cor responded so predictably. Tandan Dro certainly knew this man well!
"Your Highness, Mazidar wishes to improve its relations with Lodar. For too long, we have regarded the other with distrust. These feelings of bitterness, distrust, even hatred that linger from a war that occurred many years ago are only hurting the mutual prosperity of our two peoples. The King of Mazidar wishes to discuss a treaty of peace between our two nations. We wish to establish a bond of friendship that will put an end forever to the old hostilities."
Mith Cor remained passive, contemplating the Mazidaran's words. Then he shook his head slightly. "If Mazidar wants to establish a relationship of trust and friendship, why does your King send his son in a disguise?"
"There are two reasons," Akkra explained. "The first is obviously for my safety. There are probably many who would gain by the demise of the heir to the Mazidaran throne. I certainly have no wish to end my life on an assassin's blade. Since I prefer not to have a large accompaniment of warriors, guards, and servants, it is also safer not to travel under my true identity."
Akkra paused, then continued after an exasperated gesture from Mith Cor. "Mazidar does not want to enter into such a treaty totally ignorant, Your Highness. The relationship between our two nations has not afforded us an intimate knowledge of affairs within the Lodaran Empire. Before we entered upon any treaty, the King of Mazidar wanted to determine the current social state of our proposed ally."
"What does that mean?" demanded Mith Cor. "What do you mean by social state?"
Akkra glanced around him. The faces of many of the ministers reflected their hostility. Most of the nobility, however, expressed only curiosity. "The simplest way of putting it, Your Highness, is to say that we want to be allied with an Empire where the Emperor is strong enough to rule justly, beloved by his people sufficiently to ensure tranquility within the Empire, yet stable enough that there is no need to betray the terms of the treaty."
Mith Cor laughed. "Those sound like admirable criteria for us to apply to our future allies, Lord Emissary!"
Akkra smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Perhaps Your Highness is right. The only difference is that it is the rabbit who must be cautious in the den of the lion. The lion, on the other hand, has little to fear from the rabbit."
Mith Cor stopped laughing. "Unless the rabbit is really a jackal in disguise, Emissary. Well, you have had many days to roam throughout our city. What have you found out?"
"May it please Your Majesty, this information should be for your ears only."
"Speak!"
Akkra breathed deeply, looking again for specific individuals in the crowd. He was able to spot a few of the individuals he was looking for in the crowd. "Your Majesty, a ruler should be well-regarded by the people ruled. It is a rare ruler that can command true respect and love from the people, and no ruler ever wins universal respect. You have managed to place yourself within a select few that does have the respect of his subjects."
Mith Cor seemed to be pleased with this. He indicated that Akkra should continue.
"This is not to say that the people are satisfied. There are many grumbling about high taxes, land confiscation by the nobility and the priests of Att, a lack of equal justice in the Imperial courts. But even these complaints are within tolerable limits, Your Highness.
"Most of your population is loyal to you, Emperor Mith Cor. There is only a small faction that betrays this loyalty."
Silence dropped on the court like a heavy fog rolling in on a brisk wind. Mith Cor raised an eyebrow. "A faction? What faction? Who would dare be disloyal to me?"
Akkra waited, allowing the tension to build up. Then, quietly, so that even Mith Cor had to lean forward to hear him, he asked "What do you know of the Council of Twenty-three, Your Majesty?"
"The Council of Twenty-three?" Mith Cor's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed. His eyes roamed the closer nobles, searching for faces that only Mith Cor knew to look for. Several individuals squeezed surreptitiously back into the crowd. "What of the Council of Twenty-three, Emissary? What is the significance of this group to you?"
"The Council of Twenty-three is a semi-secret organization, Your Highness, consisting of some of the most important nobles in your Empire. It is also supported by the coffers of the temples of Att. On the surface, it is merely a group of nobles who meet to provide advice on the state of the empire, but that is not the group's true purpose. It's purpose is to correct what its members perceive as gross deficiencies in the administration of the Empire.
"It's objective is to overthrow you, Emperor Mith Cor!"
The court exploded into frenzied discussion, as neighbor repeated to neighbor what he or she thought was said. Several of the nobles and priests stepped forward angrily.
"Your Highness," demanded one of them. "We should not permit this Mazidaran pig to come into the Imperial Palace and malign the reputations of some of Lodar's finest nobles! I say we should evict him at once!"
Cries of agreement resounded sharply. Akkra noted with alarm that eviction was probably the least serious consequence he could face if the crowd had its way. At a sign from Mith Cor, Jab pounded his scepter on the ground, calling for silence. Slowly, the raucous noise ebbed away.
Akkra held up his hands, asking for calm. "Your Majesty, I did not wish to create alarm. After all, my opinions are nothing more than that -- the casual opinions of an infrequent observer of the Lodaran scene. I had wished to discuss these issues in private, merely to acquaint Your Highness with our concerns. Surely if there is any conspiracy against Your Majesty, it would be of concern to Mazidar, who desires a treaty of friendship. After all, would the Emperor of Lodar be likely to honor the terms of a treaty if he is concerned with more substantial internal affairs?"
"On the other hand," interrupted Mith Cor, "it might be to our advantage to have assurance of peaceful borders if there is any internal strife."
Akkra feigned surprise. "Your Majesty cuts right to the essence of the issue!" he exclaimed. "Were such calamitous internal malaise to occur, it would certainly be to your advantage to be able to count on the allegiance and aid of Mazidar."
Mith Cor nodded slowly. "Yet, a disturbing thought occurs to us, Mazidaran."
Akkra raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Were our two nations to become bonded by such a treaty, Mazidaran citizens would have ample opportunities to traverse the length and breadth of the Empire, is it not so?"
Akkra shrugged. "That would seem to be a desirable feature of any proposed peaceful relations. By the same token, Lodarans would have the right of free passage throughout Mazidar. This would open up some of those lucrative trade routes to the Dhelum Empire, Your Highness."
Mith Cor nodded impatiently. "But you seem to be overlooking one important fact, Mazidaran. If Mazidar has access to Lodar's cities, what is to prevent Mazidar from working with the reputed conspirators to effect my overthrow?"
Akkra almost stepped back in surprise. "Your Majesty, it is not our intent to further the aims of such brigands. Although the traditions of the royal family of Mazidar do favor periodic election of the King, we tend to prefer the convenience of dynastic succession. I for one can tell you that I favor such a concept. Why would Mazidar want to establish a precedent of deposing lawful monarchs? Such a policy would serve only the narrowest and short-term interests."
Mith Cor sat back in his throne, contemplating the Emissary's words. "Prince Akkra, you are correct. Further discussion of this matter will be reserved until after this audience. I trust Your Highness can spare some time later this morning to meet with me and my ministers in private consultations? Or do you have pressing matters of state to conclude in the taverns of Lodar?"
Akkra laughed, choosing to ignore the contempt in Mith Cor's voice. "I see that some of my bad habits have come to your attention, Your Majesty. I must admit that in retrospect, my actions do seem excessive and immature. I can only say that a lifetime of seclusion has left me ill-prepared for handling all of the varied attractions of your fair city. But I want to assure you that I can handle affairs of state as well as the next diplomat. I would be honored to meet with you in private." Akkra bowed, then stepped back.
He indicated with a sweep of his arm the other members of his party. "Allow me to present to Your Majesties a few tokens of Mazidar's esteem and good intentions." He gestured to the servants, who stepped up to the foot of the stairs with their large bundles. "My only regret, Sires, is that none of these trinkets could ever truly indicate the regard we in Lodar have for Your Imperial Majesties."
The first servant placed the heavy box down on the floor. One of the Mazidarans produced a key and unlocked the box. The first item taken from the box was a crown, studded with sapphires and diamonds. Even in the dim light of the vast hall, all could see that it was a crown of exquisite craftsmanship and priceless value.
"Nest-kor, this crown has been worn by some of the mightiest queens of the Dhelum Empire. It was presented to my father for some trifling deed he performed for Emperor Opu Ram of Dhelum a few years back. We would be honored if you would accept this gift."
Nest-kor stared at the crown in awe. She was about to race down the steps to take it, when she saw her father's scowl. Quickly, she recovered her imperial poise and gestured for one of the palace slaves to bring the crown to her. She maintained her composure right up to the point when the slave handed over the crown. She took off her own crown, plain by comparison, and put the sapphire crown on her head. It fit as though it were designed especially for her. She cried with joy, then called for a mirror to be brought to her. Once the mirror was brought, she twisted and turned her head to view the crown from different angles.
Akkra smiled as he watched her. How different she was right now, childlike and innocent, simply enjoying a new toy. His pleasure in her reaction was brief, however, as she became bored with looking at her reflection. Finally she took the crown off, dropping it carelessly on the floor. The servant scurried to clutch at it, to keep the crown from breaking. He was too late, and the crown clattered to the floor. Several of the tines were bent, and a large sapphire popped out of its mounting. Nest-kor paid no heed to the damage she had wrought. She replaced her simpler crown on her head and resumed her expressionless posture on the throne, waiting for the Mazidaran to continue.
Akkra indicated that the next gift should be removed from the trunk.
The servant removed a large wooden carved box. It was ornately carved with animals and plants of the jungles far to the south of Patel. The servant opened the box to reveal a cloth-lined interior. Lying inside the box were two small jars, unlike any jars found in Lodar or, indeed, all of Tandaria.
"Your Majesty, this gift is indeed a rare gift. A farmer in the south of Mazidar, digging a well for water, encountered a tomb of the Ancients, a room filled with remarkable things from the time before the destruction of the earth by Att. Even more astounding, however, was the fact that many of the items were perfectly preserved, even after all the millennia since that terrible time.
"One of the most amazing finds was the contents of this sandalwood coffer." He pointed at the box. "Contained in these magical vials are a wonder medicine that lessens headaches, reduces the fever of the brow, and relieves the pains of the elderly. Our scholars have spent may years trying to learn the tongue of the Ancients. They tell me this magical medicine is called Es-Prin."
Mith Cor stared down at the small bottles with curiosity. He told the slave to bring them to him. The slave was about to take the coffer from Akkra's servant when Rati Bajah, High Priest of Att, raced from his place in the audience and knocked the coffer from the servants hands. The box crashed to the floor, shattering. The ancient vials of Es-Prin clattered to the floor and slid along the tiles, banging up against the throne dais.
"Don't be deceived by this blasphemer, Your Majesty!" warned Rati Bajah. "It is obvious that this is an attempt to assassinate you by providing you with a poison."
Akkra snorted in disgust. "Don't be a fool, priest!" He walked over and picked up the vials. They had not broken, a fact that was noted with surprise by many who were close to the front of the hall. "Here, I will show you."
Akkra twisted off the cap of the vial, dropped one of the tablets into the palm of his hand, and swallowed it. "It is better if you take these with some water, to help swallow them." He turned to face the Emperor. "Note, Your Majesty, there is no harm. Try them on others, if you will. But the supply is limited. We do not have the magic or art of the Ancients to be able to produce these."
Rati Bajah was fuming. "Your Majesty, it is sacrilege to touch any of the artifacts of the Ancients. Att has punished the Ancients for their evil ways! For us to touch their possessions will bring the wrath of Att down on all of us! I beseech you, My Lord, touch not these evil things!"
Mith Cor hesitated, unsure whether to heed the words of his High Priest or to yield to his curiosity regarding the vials. Finally he found a way to resolve his dilemma. "High Priest, take these things and have them blessed by Att. Once they are blessed, return them to me for examination."
Rati Bajah, angry at the way he had been outfoxed, snatched at the vials and returned to his place in the audience hall. If he recalled his warning about touching the artifacts, he certainly did not believe it applied to him. Perhaps he felt that his special relationship with Att gave him greater protection than the average mortal enjoyed.
Akkra, meanwhile, was becoming concerned. Each of his gifts was rejected in some way. He knew there was no way for the Lodarans to find fault with the next gift. He motioned for the servant to remove the next item. It was a tapestry depicting a scene from Lodaran history. The event was the submission of the Paphiri desert chieftains to Mith Cor I, perhaps the greatest emperor of Tandaria. The desert tribes had been particularly hard to subdue, yet Mith Cor's armies had persisted until even the staunchest opponents had either been put to the sword or had capitulated.
Proudly, Akkra had the tapestry spread out for the grandson of this illustrious monarch to review. Mith Cor was obviously pleased with the gift, and indeed, it was a fine work of art. Every detail was shown in exquisite colors. The craftsman who had spent years working on this creation had surpassed himself. It was truly a gift worthy of an Emperor.
Akkra's confidence in this gift was also quickly shattered. Nar Sidthar, Magar of the Inner Army, stepped forward, pointing in outrage at something on the tapestry. "Your Imperial Highness, look at this mockery of your illustrious ancestor! Do you not see what these Mazidaran pigs have done? Is not the insult as obvious as the noonday heat in the middle of the Paphiri?" He stomped his foot down on a section of the tapestry, a scene in which unidentified warriors watched the capitulation from a distant hill. "Look at these miscreant dogs, shown here not paying allegiance to Mith Cor I! Such lack of respect is a clear indication of the low regard the Mazidarans have of our Imperial family."
Mith Cor bristled with anger. "Indeed, Lord Emissary, my Magar makes a cogent point. We cannot accept a gift which makes a mockery of the Imperial family."
Akkra tried to protest, to point out that the people on the hill were Lodaran warriors, who did not need to bow in capitulation. He could not do so. He was waved silent by Mith Cor. Akkra grew even more annoyed when he saw Nest-kor snicker at his misfortune. She seemed delighted by his inability to present gifts that would make the appropriate favorable impression. Akkra found himself resenting her immensely.
Mith Cor peered down into the chest, which was now empty of any items. "Well, Prince Akkra, have you exhausted your supply of gifts?"
Akkra shook his head. "No, Your Highness, we have one more item which might please you." He spoke briefly to his servant, who closed up the empty trunk and replaced it with the other item borne by the second servant. Akkra had the servant keep the cloth over this item while he addressed the Throne.
"Your Highness, a famous oracle in Mazidar made a prediction several months ago, at an event that would otherwise have been quite ordinary had it not occurred in the presence of this oracle. The event was the hatching of two hawks, who happened to nest close by the oracle's cave. These two birds were remarkable in one sense, in that they were totally white. Yet according to the oracle, their whiteness was only the sign of their most remarkable nature." He paused, waiting for his remarks to make an impression on Mith Cor.
Instead reacting favorably, however, the Emperor merely became impatient. "Go on, Prince Akkra, don't keep us waiting."
"The oracle claimed, Your Majesty, that these two birds would avenge the death of a mighty king or his daughter."
The audience chamber was filled with low muttering and whispers as neighbor related the comments to those further back in the room. Akkra quickly went on. "Now, in all of Tandaria, there are only a few monarchs, and of all of the monarchs, only one has but a daughter. That one monarch is yourself, Your Majesty." He indicated the object on the floor. The servant pulled off the cover, revealing a gold-gilt cage containing two white hawks. Their pink eyes darted around the room, as they searched for danger. "We have decided to present these God-touched creatures to you, Most Mighty Emperor!"
Mith Cor stared at the birds, his features betraying his uncertainty regarding this gift. "How will they avenge my death, Prince Akkra? Surely they are not mighty enough to kill any assailant?"
"As we understand the oracles words, Your Majesty, as long as the birds are with you, such as here in the palace, you are protected by the gods. If the birds are permitted their freedom, then you may die. When they are released, they will fly to the gods who will judge your life. If the gods will it, they will then avenge your death."
"What criteria do the gods use to make this determination?" demanded the Emperor.
Akkra smiled as he shrugged. "That is a question better put to your High Priest, Mighty Emperor. I have little traffic with the gods!"
There was sporadic laughter, which Jab silenced with a bang of his scepter. Mith Cor turned towards Rati Bajah. "Well, Priest, tell me, how do the gods judge me?"
Rati Bajah glanced angrily at Akkra. Facing the Emperor, he bowed deeply. "Your Highness, as long as you do the will of the gods, you will be favored by the gods. So far you are faultless, My Lord."
Mith Cor beamed his satisfaction with that answer. "Very good, High Priest, I am pleased to hear that. I certainly do try to do what the gods want, though Att knows how confusing that sometimes is." He turned towards Prince Akkra. "Very well, Prince of Mazidar, we accept your gifts and offer you the hospitality of Lodar!"
Jab signaled towards several slaves near the rear of the chamber who raced forward carrying a small, ornate throne. This was placed at the foot of the stairs, facing towards the assemblage. Akkra was permitted to sit, along with the Emperor and Princess. Everyone else was required to stand.
The drummers again took up their cadence. As the sound filled the vast hall, the crowd moved back from the center, making way for a troupe of acrobats and jugglers. Akkra had long admired the feats of skill performed by acrobats, and he could well appreciate the abilities demonstrated by this troupe. A more coordinated and talented group could not be found in Tandaria. There certainly are some advantages to being Emperor! he thought.
After the jugglers and acrobats had entertained the audience for a while, they were replaced by naked dancers, both male and female. This group was no less talented than the acrobats, though their art form was of an entirely different nature. Where the acrobats demonstrated strength and agility, the dancers exhibited grace and liquidity. Akkra was trying to decide which approach he most admired, when the acrobats returned to the center of the hall. They began to do their routine at the same time as the dancers did theirs, both groups intermingling in a complex web of movement. As he watched, the dancers seemed to take on the attribute of strength once solely possessed by the acrobats. Simultaneously, the acrobats began to appear more like the dancers. What was really happening, Akkra decided, was that both attributes were there all the time. The total effect of the integration was far more intriguing than either group independently. Akkra finally decided that he most appreciated the complement of strength and grace, as both extremes merged into a new entity. It showed, as Tandan Dro often emphasized to him, the importance of balance.
The entertainment came to an end all too soon for Akkra. Mith Cor stood up to leave, whereupon everyone in the room dropped to the floor to bow to him. The Emperor and Nest-kor left the room. Once they were gone, everyone stood up.
Jab came down the stairs and bowed slightly towards Akkra. "My Lord, the Emperor will permit you to see him privately now. If you will just come with me."
They proceeded to leave through a small doorway in the back of the Audience Hall. A flight of stairs took them to another level. Jab led Akkra into a large room set with cushions on the floor around a large oval table. Food and drink were on the table, an enormous feast of dozens of dishes from all corners of Lodar. There was roasted pheasant, sugared duck, smoked venison, rice and almonds, spicy wheat cakes, honeyed candies, steaming vegetable plates, breads baked into the shapes of animals, goat cheeses, sherberts and fermented drinks, mare's milk, and dozens of wines.
Jab indicated that Akkra should find a comfortable set of cushions and lie down on the floor. Unlike the peoples of southern Tandaria, the Lodarans ate in a reclining position. Akkra felt more comfortable sitting on the cushions, but protocol demanded flexibility. He lay down, trying to make himself comfortable.
Others started entering the room. These were the ministers and most important of the nobility. Akkra recognized a few individuals -- Balder Khan, Shanti Raj, Lak Kowan, Nar Sidthar, Rati Bajah. Others were unknown to him. Since Lodaran etiquette frowned on informal introductions, he would have to wait until the Emperor arrived before he would learn the identify of those he had not seen before.
The Emperor arrived, followed by half a dozen slaves, who carried his robes. He sat at one end of the oval, a quarter of the way around from Akkra. The slaves took up positions behind the Emperor, ready to serve his every whim or to die in his defense if need arose.
Mith-Cor looked around the oval. He nodded, and a gong sounded. Jab stood up and intonated to the group,
"Assemble here in best of cheer, warriors of Lodar.
"Enjoy at last this fine repast, gathered from afar.
"Anon we eat, anon we meet, in friendship we stay.
"Any who break this vow we make, with his life shall pay."
Everyone raised a goblet high in the air and downed it quickly. Akkra, barely cognizant of this Lodaran custom, followed suite, only a little behind the others. There was a loud cheer and everyone began to talk at once. Akkra was excluded from these numerous conversations, which seemed to go on around him as though he were not present. At this point, the Emperor signalled for silence.
"We have one among us who is not of our group," he said. Akkra began to realize that this was also part of the ritual. "It would be dishonorable for us to exclude him. Guest of Lodar, introduce yourself!"
Akkra was befuddled. He thought he had already been introduced in the court. "My name is Dak Akkra, Prince of Mazidar."
The warriors and nobles waited expectantly. After a painful pause, Jab stooped next to the Mazidaran and whispered, "My Lord, proper introductions include a recitation of your ancestry and your most notable accomplishments. They await your proper introduction."
Akkra nodded, now comprehending. Of course the nobility in Lodar would be more concerned with ancestry than the Mazidarans. After all, in Akkra's family, descent was by way of the female side of the line, while Lodar favored the more traditional male line of descent. He knew instinctively that if he indicated this to the Lodarans, they might think the rulers of Mazidar were weak. Women, after all, were not considered of much value in Lodar.
"My name is Dak Akkra, Prince of Mazidar," he repeated. "I am the son of Taja Dak, Warlord of the Tolkars, formerly of the Zepores, now of the land of Mazidar.
"I am the grandson of Ghenma Taja. . ." He stopped, abruptly concerned. His grandmother had been the head of the Tolkar clans, not his grandfather. In the traditions of the Tolkars, she had been the paramount power. The husband of the chieftain merely shared a minor role in ruling the tribe. The only exception occurred when the Chieftain had only one child who was male. Then clan leadership passed to the son. When he married, a new line of succession would start, since his wife could not come from his own clan. In fact, his father had been exiled from the tribe partly because he had married Anstrel, a mutant from the Forbidden Lands. Akkra was successor only because he was the only offspring of Taja Dak and Anstrel.
He knew that the Lodarans would think less of the Royal Family of Mazidar if they knew all this. He had only one choice, an alternative that he disliked. He would have to stretch the truth, to hide the real facts of the line of succession. ". . . Warlord of all the Tolkars. I am great-grandson of Hojan Genma, First Warlord of the Tolkars." He stopped, thinking three generations back were enough.
The Emperor raised an eyebrow of disdain. "That is your family, young Prince? Ah, well, I suppose that is enough. Now tell us of your accomplishments!"
Again Akkra was caught off guard. He couldn't tell them of his most recent accomplishments, not if he wanted to leave Lodar alive! He certainly was not going to tell them of his military actions against the slave raiders of prior years. Nor could he tell them of his exploits in the Zepores under another guise and another name. None of these exploits could be related to this group. He decided on another tact.
"Assembled Lords, how can my exploits rival those of such illustrious warriors and nobles such as yourselves? I hesitate even to compare my meager accomplishments with the epic accomplishments of those in this room. But if you press me on, I will do so!
"I have written the two finest plays in all of Tandaria, my lords! People from all parts of Tandaria rave over my complicated plots, witty verse, salacious scenes, and surprising endings!
"I have mastered the eighteen instruments of Jallan Dai music. I can play like a master on the Timbori, the Ukanda strings, the Hojan drums, the Tabla, the Sitor. I am less proficient, but still considered quite good, on the Pusari, the Umbra, and the Chotan Dai.
"I have written a master travel guide, My Lords, to all of the finest taverns of Mazidar, Zid Zir, Chagat, Abothar Zir, and Dodabad. Though I must say, in all honesty, that the ale of Dodabad tastes like the urine of jackals, and the tavern owners of Abothar Zir water down their wine. I would like to include in my next edition a listing of some of the very fine taverns in Lodar." Akkra was about to continue with more of his exploits when he was interrupted by Nar Sidthar, Magar of the Inner Army.
"Enough of this prattle, My Lord!" he said to the Emperor. "Must we be bored with this fops inane recitation of useless accomplishments?"
Akkra protested, "On the contrary, My Lord, these accomplishments are highly valued in Mazidar. Why, with my travel guide, one can avoid all of the most disreputable taverns and frequent only those that give fair price and good ale. I even have a section on what types of serving wenches work in each establishment, how much they charge for various services--"
"Stop!" said Rati Bajah. "Stop making a mockery of our customs, you unbeliever! Your Highness, I agree with Lord Sidthar. Must we continue with this?"
Mith Cor stared angrily at the Mazidaran. "My Lords are correct, Prince Akkra. You do seem to be making a mockery of our customs."
Akkra shook his head. "On the contrary, Your Imperial Majesty, I thought I was following your customs to the letter. How am I to know that the values we hold most dear in Mazidar are not considered important in Lodar? If I offended any, I humbly beg their forgiveness."
There was a ripple of muttering that washed around the table. Finally Mith Cor decided that they could dispense with the traditional introductions. Akkra noted that most of the nobles wore darkened expressions. There were only two exceptions. Balder Khan seemed highly amused by the turnabout on a tradition that he probably found onerous to perform. And Shanti Raj seemed unable to hide his amusement. Akkra nodded to himself. Tathi had chosen wisely in aligning her loyalties and love with this man.
Having dispensed with introductions, the group began to eat. Akkra wondered when the time for discussions would arrive. Fortunately, Jab had decided that the Mazidaran's baneful ignorance of protocol might cause further problems. Though he bore no great love for Mazidar, he felt obligated to whisper words of guidance to the Emissary. Akkra, in turn, seemed appreciative of all the advice Jab gave him.
"Your Highness?"
Akkra looked across the table towards the speaker, Balder Khan. "Yes, my lord?"
"It has been rumored that your exploits do include more than music and writing plays. Haven't I heard it somewhere that you are also a skilled warrior?" The Conqueror of Lodar stared intently at the Emissary, as if to dare him to deny it.
"Alas, my lord, in the arts of war, I am a continual disappointment to my father, the King. He would have me pursue the noble art of war, but I find myself inclining more towards fleeing a foe than slaying him. I have never seen the value of killing and maiming." He popped a grape into his mouth. "And look at the other disadvantages of war, my lord. You can't get fine fruits like this when vineyards are burned down or roads are blocked."
Balder Khan scowled. "Know you anything of these barbarians who are said to lurk in the Zepores? Aren't your people originally from that area, Prince Akkra?"
Akkra seemed to blanch. "Barbarians! My lord, we are not the same ilk as those disorganized, feuding tribes and clans that live in the mountains. When we came down onto the plains of Tandaria a generation ago, we adopted the ways of civilization. I don't think there is a single clansman who cares one whit for a play or a poem. No, my lord, we have no truck with the likes of the Zepore clans. It would be far better for all of us if they stayed way up in the mountains." Akkra seemed to shudder. "My lord, I think back on all the tales that my father and uncles recited of life in the mountains, and I grow pale with apprehension. A dreadful life they lived, my lord! A dreadful life. Savage, brutal. Do you know that some of those tribes perform human sacrifice to their terrible gods?"
"It is indeed well known, Mazidaran," interjected Rati Bajah. "Have you not heard that there is a terrible war brewing between the evil god of the Clors, the despicable Chohan, and Att, the God of all Tandaria?"
Akkra nodded. "Yes, I do believe I have heard rumors to that effect. Why else do you think Mazidar wants an alliance with Lodar? Though we profess no great love of Att, we do not wish to have hordes of barbarians raping and pillaging our lands."
Mith Cor burped, a clear signal that he wanted to speak. All fell silent, waiting expectantly for his words. "Prince of Mazidar, how could an alliance between our two nations possibly aid us against this threat? After all, we are between you and the barbarians. Would it not be better for Mazidar to leave Lodar to the mercies of the barbarians?"
Akkra shrugged, not seeming to notice the hint of distrust in Mith Cor's voice. "If only a few barbarians come out of the mountains, we have no doubt that Lodar can handle them. But if the clans mass together, they can be a formidable fighting force. They have no supply lines, since they can forage off the land. Women and children often partake in their battles, sometimes fighting more fiercely than the men. Were such a force to invade Lodar, they could cut through to Mazidar in no time at all. If you maintain large numbers of warriors along the Lodar-Mazidar border, which you currently do, your strength will be divided. That weakens your defenses unnecessarily."
"And what ensures that Mazidar won't attack us the moment our warriors are moved to our northern and western borders?" asked Shanti Raj.
"If Lodar agrees to the terms of the treaty, we will exchange hostages. I will remain in Lodar for a period of time, perhaps a year, to demonstrate our good faith. In turn, Lodar will provide a ranking hostage to Mazidar."
There was silence for a few moments, then Balder Khan laughed. "That's very good, Prince Akkra. At first I thought you were going to propose a marriage between you and the Princess!"
Akkra laughed also. "I have seen Her Highness' temper, my lord. I feel safer in the camps of the barbarians."
Balder Khan laughed again, but stopped when he noticed that Mith Cor did not see any humor in Akkra's statement. He picked up the treaty papers and abruptly stood up. "Prince of Mazidar, we will consider the terms of your treaty and give you our answer before the sun sets. You may await our response at the bungalow we have provided for you." He turned and walked out, followed quickly by his ministers.
Balder Khan, among the last to leave, turned, smiled and gave Akkra a salute that was reminiscent of the salute Akkra had given him many years earlier. Then he too left.
Akkra and Jab were alone in the room. Akkra grabbed a handful of grapes and stood up. "I guess that does it," he said.
Jab nodded. "The Emperor doesn't like jokes about his daughter," he said. Then he added, more quietly, "No matter how true they may be."