Page 89 of A Drop of Corruption

Torches blazed and hissed from every wall and corner. The remnants of a huge bonfire glowed in the center of the hall, despite it being late afternoon. At the far end sat a magnificent throne, also wrought of stone, and though it was empty, fireplaces had been built on either side of it, with a blaze crackling in each one.

And with fire came smoke. Though there were chimneys and openwindows in the great hall, the air was still heavy with haze, so much so that my eyes and nose burned. It was quite a change from imperial lighting, which used no flame and produced no smoke.

I waved at the haze before my face and surveyed the room. The messenger was approaching the empty throne. I squinted to parse the smokes and spied a figure in white sitting on the steps before it, head bowed. The white figure sat up as the messenger whispered something to him, then rose. The instant he did so, the hall became a flurry of quiet activity, with many servants or officers or attendants rushing about, whispering to one another.

I quietly relayed the scene to Ana.

“Ahh, that would be the prince, I think,” Ana said. “For when the regent stands, the world responds, Din!”

I studied the prince through the veil of smoke. He did not speed over to us, as I’d expected of a man who’d pleaded for us to assist; rather, he appeared to be waiting.

Then two men came rushing into the hall, and these two I recognized instantly.

The first was Jari Pavitar, swaggering just like when I’d met him at the prison, his brow still stained dark indigo beneath his black cap, and his fur cape fluttering behind him. His eyes flashed at the sight of me: he remembered me, then, and not fondly.

After him came the green-faced Satrap Darhi. He swayed as he walked, a careful, controlled movement. His locks were still well-coiffed about his thin face, and his cheeks and chin were still lined with green inks, though today he favored soft yellow robes rather than green. His gaze also remained the same: as cold and sharp as a medikker’s blade, and the haze of the fires gave me no cover from his scrutiny.

The two men bowed to their prince, who diffidently raised a hand to them. Then they took up spaces behind him and followed in his wake as he began to approach us.

“They near us now, ma’am,” I whispered.

“Excellent,” said Ana. “Isn’t this terriblyexciting,children?”

Malo shook her head, exasperated.

I watched Prince Camak as he rounded the bonfire. I’d expected someone tall and formidable, but I found him to be a bearded, plump, rather scuttling little man. A silver circlet shone on his brow, a silver necklace twinkled at his collar, and his face was painted in golds and silvers, yet rather than endow him with a commanding look, the paints only highlighted his weakness, for he glanced about the room with a dim, watery gaze.

He did not look at all like a king. I was reminded of a fretful young foal venturing from its paddock for the first time, ready to bolt at the barest flit of a bird’s wing. His expression grew only more alarmed as he neared us, his eyes fixed on Ana’s blindfold. I could’ve sworn I saw the color drain from behind his paints, and imagined his thoughts—This is the person who has come to help me? This is the imperial I’ve taken into my confidence?

The three Yarrow men came to a stop before us. There was a long, awkward silence, and we simply looked at one another. I glanced at Malo, who gave the tiniest shrug—I’ve no idea, either!

Finally, Darhi softly cleared his throat and said in careful, precise standard: “You are to bow, and introduce yourselves.”

Before I could speak, Ana bowed deeply and said, “Prince Camak! I am Immunis Ana Dolabra, of the Imperial Iudex. How sorrowful I am that we should meet you now! Know that my heart grieves for the loss of your father, whom all in the Empire considered a great king, and a true friend. Words cannot capture the depth of our sympathies, nor our torment, when we learned of these evil tidings this morn.”

I looked sidelong at Malo, utterly bewildered by Ana’s sudden courtliness. Malo only gaped in response.

“I am here solely to comprehend how such a thing has happened,” Ana continued, “for I must regretfully tell you that we are wholly ignorant of nearly every aspect of this tragedy. We do not know how it occurred, nor how Prificto Kardas might be implicated in it. Though we pledge to assist you in any way, at first, unfortunately, I can only offer questions.”

Before the prince could respond, Pavitar scoffed. “Oh? Yet why should we answer them?” he demanded. “When it is we who have been so terribly wronged! For you imperials to now burden us with such demands suggests you believe us to be either fools, or lia—”

Prince Camak turned to him. “I have not spoken,” he said softly.

Pavitar fell silent, abashed. A tiny, triumphant smile flickered across Darhi’s face.

The prince turned back to us. He cleared his throat lengthily—he seemed unaccustomed to stately speech—and said in thickly accented standard, “I appreciate your kind words, Immunis. I have long known that my circlet would one day shift from silver to gold, and my flesh would take up the throne. But I had not ever imagined that the day should arrive so ill-fated. I am thankful that the Empire has so speedily sent assistance.” He gestured feebly. “Though, ah, you may already know them, this is my satrap, Danduo Darhi, and my court jari, Thale Pavitar.”

The two men nodded to us, though Pavitar did so quite reluctantly.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Ana, bowing. “Assisting me is my investigator, Signum Dinios Kol, and Tira Malo, an Apothetikal warden from Yarrowdale.”

“Yes…” said the prince, uncertainly. His gaze again lingered on Ana’s face. Then he frowned, turned, and whispered something to Darhi.

Darhi nodded, his expression the very picture of taciturn servitude. Then he said in his calm, cool voice, “We note you wear a blindfold, Immunis.”

“That I do,” said Ana.

“Thus, we must ask—are you blind?”