Julien 61-62
Chapter 61
Council
When Julien and his companions returned to Bakhtar Tower Lord Aldegard was tactful enough not to keep him for more than a couple of minutes before he had them taken straight to his parents' kang.
The Berthiers had only been in Aleth for a couple of days, but they were already wearing local clothing, which was a lot more comfortable in this climate than either European clothes or, indeed, the Dvârinn clothes that Julien was still wearing, and which were already making him feel far too hot. His parents were wearing white abbas with a gold and fuchsia trim which proclaimed that they were connected to the Imperial House.
The careful cut and styling of his mother's abba had the effect of transforming her into a sort of Medieval queen, and she no longer looked at all like the sturdy daughter of a long line of Norman peasants. Of course she had always had a pretty face and a clear complexion which made Julien think of crème fraîche, pastry and morning dew, but now her auburn hair had been gathered into a high bun, as was currently the fashion in Aleth, and it had the effect of making her look dignified and noble. Her husband looked completely at ease in a garment which, back on Earth, he would have considered only suitable for wearing at a carnival. And next to him stood a Guide whose canary-yellow fur clashed horribly with anything he got close to, because the apartment was tastefully decorated in delicate pastel shades.
Once the greetings and the emotion of the reunion were over, Mr Berthier looked at Ugo and said, “So, old boy, did you enjoy the journey? I'd say Julien's done a great job. And that's a beautiful collar you've got – it looks like white gold. Isabelle's going to be jealous!”
Of course he had spent the previous twelve years talking to the dog, but never before had he received an answer, and so he was astonished when Ugo said, “And well she might be – it's a completely unique piece. There's nothing like it in the whole of the R'hinz. It would look wonderful on her but I'm afraid that I can't manage without it at the moment.”
“Ugo! You can talk!” exclaimed Mr Berthier.
“I've always been able to talk, but only inside my head. Now you can actually hear me.”
“I'm so pleased! So where did you find this amazing device?”
“A friend of Julien's gave it to me.”
“It's really impressive. He obviously has some excellent friends.”
“Yes... I don't want to dampen your enthusiasm, but apparently he also has some rather powerful enemies.”
“True – even though it's hard for me to understand why.”
Up to this point Isabelle had been chatting quietly with her son, but now she raised her voice and spoke more formally.
“Julien,” she said, “I'd like to introduce you to the Honourable Wakhann, who has been kind enough to act as our interpreter, and who has been very much looking forward to meeting you.”
The yellow Guide stepped forward and offered his neck for Julien to touch.
May Your Lordship please accept the greetings of a lowly Guide.
Honourable Wakhann, you're doing a difficult job, and you're performing an immense service to my family. And I'd be very grateful indeed if you could do me another favour and stop using the High Speech – and I'd really prefer you just to call me 'Julien', though I suppose I could put up with 'My Lord' if you absolutely insist on formality.
As you wish, My Lord. Anyway, now that the Honourable Master Yol is back I imagine that my humble contribution will not be required any longer.
Don't be so sure. The Honourable Yol is likely to be busy with other tasks, and I'm sure he would like you to go on looking after my parents – if you don't mind, of course.
I would be only too happy, My Lord. Not only would this offer me the rare privilege of getting to know those who are close to you, but it would also give me an opportunity of learning about a culture totally alien to the Nine Worlds.
I'm glad that you're happy to carry on, then. One more thing, though: I absolutely forbid any manipulation of their minds or their memories – for example, I don't want their memories to be altered to make them forget about any of the Guides they might meet. I want you to treat them exactly the same as you would me. You can discuss this with your Masters if you like, but I don't think they'll want to make an issue of it.
Neither do I, My Lord. In fact, Master Aïn has already given me the same instruction.
oo0oo
Lord Aldegard was holding a Council meeting, but it was a very restricted meeting – in fact the only people present were himself, Julien, Xarax, Tannder, Aïn and Yol/Ugo. They were meeting to try to formulate a strategy for the next few days, a period of time that could well be critical for Dvârinn. Tannder was there because Julien had asked him to be – he wanted the input of someone who was in no way politically connected to the situation.
“Tomorrow, My Lord,” said Aldegard, “is the day of Ylavan's funeral. You have the choice: you can attend or not, as you think best. After that you have a period of time – it shouldn't be more than twenty days – to nominate a new Mirror for Dvârinn. The ceremony for that will have to take place on Dvârinn, and normally you would need to be present. You could choose not to attend, but I think that if you did that it would be sure to escalate the rumours already circulating about the weakening of the Emperor's power.”
“What would you advise me to do?” Julien asked him.
“Well, you don't have to make an appearance tomorrow. I could go and offer official condolences on your behalf. That would then give us twenty days to arrange for a meeting of the Council of Mirrors where we could decide on a new Mirror for Dvârinn.”
“I suspect,” said Julien, “that you'd agree that we can't appoint Nandak as the new Mirror. There's already a strong suspicion that he murdered his father. I don't think he should even be First Lord of the Ksantiris.”
“Well, if he did do such a thing I don't think there will be any way of proving it. He might be a nasty piece of work, but Nandak is nobody's fool.”
“Do you think so? I mean, this whole business of having a secret cache of forbidden weapons – doesn't that sound insane to you? Surely he doesn't think people will just stand by and let him use artillery or whatever without doing something about it?”
“If the story is true, I think it can only be because someone has told him that you are no longer in the R'hinz – and if that were the case he could probably conquer the whole planet with his forbidden weapons without anyone being able to stop him. But, again, there's no actual proof that he has such weapons. And in any case you can't interfere with the Ksantiri family succession.”
“Maybe not, but there must be some way for us to put a stop to this before things get completely out of hand. For a start, wouldn't it make him have second thoughts if the Emperor were to prove that he is still on the scene?”
“Well, yes – but he could choose to confront you. It's happened in the past.”
“And what happened?”
“None of the people who tried it ever managed to carry out their threats. And as for the ones who tried to break the laws of the R'hinz on the quiet, the Council of Mirrors declared their Houses extinct and abolished their Marks. That's what happened to House T'ang Ser, who once ruled over the city of Tchenn Ril, a place with which I believe you are acquainted.”
“I'd prefer not to let things get that far.. Obviously I'm worried about it, and I've been thinking about it for a while. And I think I've thought of a way to deal with this and at the same time keep the damage to a minimum...”
oo0oo
Once he was back in his kang – the one he'd shared with Niil and Ambar in happier times – Julien spoke to Tannder.
“You didn't say anything at the meeting,” he said. “What do you think of my plan?”
“I tend to agree with the First Lord: I think it's a bit reckless. But I don't think you told us everything and I'd prefer to hear the rest of the plan before I pass judgement – if that's what you want me to do, of course.”
Julien then gave a full exposition of his plan and received both Tannder's approval and a few suggestions as to how to make it work more effectively. Then he sent for Master Subadar, who had been his disciple in an earlier incarnation and was now the Grand Master of the Circle of Major Arts, inviting him to supper. He was sure that the man who had reminded him of the existence of the Narthex would be able to help him to find a way around some of the remaining problems...
oo0oo
Chapter 62
A little private chat
The Ksantiris' First Trankenn resounded with the dull beat of the funeral drums. A cold end-of-winter sun shone down on the crowd assembled on the top deck beneath the perfectly-furled sails of the vessel. A few cable lengths to starboard was the equally impeccably turned out trankenn of the Gyalmangs, on which the death drums could also be heard. Lord Ylavan's body rested at the prow of his ship in a coracle made of leather and plaited wood, an exact replica of the small fishing boats used by his ancestors thousands of years before. Flowers and aromatic wood-shavings covered the body, which was naked except for a thin death-mask of beaten gold that covered his face. Lady Axelia stood beside the boat wearing the grey woollen garment worn by the fisher-folk of long ago, ready to give the order to the six sailors who would lower Lord Ylavan onto the ocean for his final voyage. She was just about to give the ritual command which would begin the operation of the winches that would slowly lower the coracle to the surface thirty metres below when a murmur arose from the crowd.
Lady Axelia turned and saw that a young boy had just appeared behind her. He was thin and wearing nothing at all except for the instantly recognisable tracery of the white Marks of the Imperial House. As she looked at him he spoke, his voice carrying clearly to everyone aboard the vessel.
“Noble Lady Axelia,” he said, “before you set your Noble Husband to sail upon the Unfathomable Ocean, I would ask that you permit Yulmir to greet his Mirror for the last time.”
Despite her surprise and the awkward robe she was wearing, Lady Axelia bowed with great grace and dignity and then stepped aside to allow the unexpected visitor to reach the coracle, where he gazed for a long moment at the golden mask before returning to the widow's side.
“No-one, Noble Lady, is more worthy to protect his people from the perils of the sea,” the boy said. “No-one is more worthy to guide his people through the Streams of Destiny. No-one is more worthy to inspire the Guardians of his lineage with his wisdom.”
Once the ritual words had been spoken Lady Axelia waved her hand and the six men began to sing an ancient shanty as they slowly lowered their late Master down to the surface of the ocean. Once the coracle was floating freely a long blast from a whistle triggered the hoisting of the sails aboard the two trankenns, and the great vessels began, slowly at first and then with increasing speed, to draw away from the little boat that bore the dead Lord.
Aboard the First Trankenn there was no sound at all except for the murmur of the wind as it blew gently through the rigging. His arms folded, Julien stood at the prow of the ship and looked at the faces of the crowd. The first stage of his plan appeared to have passed off without a hitch. The air was actually very cold, but he couldn't feel it because his whole body had been anointed with a very effective protective balm that prevented him from feeling the chill: it would have been a pity, he thought, if his funeral speech had had to be delivered through chattering teeth. Nor did he feel at all embarrassed at standing naked in front of everyone, because the old Master of Tradition had been right: the Marks were the only garment that a Noble Son needed. But now he had to press on with the plan.
“Will not the Noble Lords of the Ksantiris welcome the Guardian of the Nine Worlds?” he asked.
Everyone immediately turned to look at the platform where Nandak, Nekal, Niil and Ambar were sitting. Nandak, Niil and Ambar all looked very surprised, but Nekal's face was utterly horrified, and as the others stood up and tried to preserve a measure of dignity, he fell back onto his chair, his face grey and his legs temporarily refusing to obey him. His older brother had to grab hold of his arm and drag him to his feet. Nandak wasn't quite sure what Nekal's problem was, but he did know that he couldn't allow any Ksantiri to shame the family by failing to stand.
“Nandak,” said Julien, “perhaps we should give your brother a moment to recover from the joy of seeing his Emperor again. I know tradition says that 'The Emperor is at home anywhere in the Nine Worlds', but I should probably have announced my visit in advance to spare him this emotional shock.”
Nandak had by now covered the distance between himself and Julien and dropped to his knees, his head bowed in the posture of one seeking forgiveness.
“I beg Your Imperial Highness to forgive this regrettable incident,” he said. “Please accept my most sincere welcome, and my deepest gratitude for the honour you showed to the memory of my Noble and greatly-missed Father.”
“Consider the incident forgotten,” said Julien. “As for your greatly-missed Father, my true and most faithful Mirror, he at least gave me, in addition to his loyalty, his Noble Son Niil, who has been an important Councillor to me despite his lack of years.”
Then he raised his voice and addressed Niil over his older brother's head.
“Lord Niil, will you not find me something with which to cover my body? Surely there are some in House Ksantiri who have not lost their manners?”
Niil ran across and removed all of his clothing, presenting each garment one by one until Julien was fully dressed and then adjusting the ceremonial hatik. By doing this he played his part in the ancient ritual which demonstrated that a Lord had absolute trust in his vassal, to the point of allowing him closer access to his body than his own clothes – and also that any injury done to the vassal was tantamount to a declaration of war against the Lord – in this case, against the Emperor himself.
Having thus delivered a message which was certain to reach the whole R'hinz in the very near future, Julien sent his friend to find some clothes – after all, Niil didn't have the benefit of the protective balm and Julien didn't want everyone to see him shivering – and then he followed Nandak towards the VIP part of the ship, where the cream of the Dvârinn aristocracy was awaiting his pleasure. He paused long enough to make sure that Lady Axelia was looking after Ambar: the former street-boy was looking completely lost, although he did brighten up when Julien smiled at him.
Julien had to endure the respectful homage of a vast number of characters, all of them burdened with a highly inaccurate opinion of their own importance, before he was finally able to escape with Nandak into a slightly smaller room. Here he met not only Lord Aldegard and Lady Delia, his wife, but also Lady Axelia, who was accompanied by Ambar and Niil, who was once again dressed appropriately for the occasion. There were around fifteen other members of the nobility there too, including Lord Delian of the Gyalmangs, the would-be chief ally of the future Master of the World, Nandak. These people were gathered around a long table laid out for a banquet. But as he was being led towards the position of honour Julien noticed that someone was missing.
“Is Nekal having stomach trouble?” he asked his host. “Or has the vision of my person been enough to spoil his appetite?”
Obviously Nandak didn't know. No explanation for his brother's absence, and hence appalling breach of etiquette, sprang to his mind. As he drew breath to launch into a new round of excuses Julien forestalled him.
“Please,” he said. “Your brother is old enough to answer for himself, and I'm sure that he has a good reason for this apparent discourtesy. But if you're worried about his health, perhaps my Privy Councillor could try to find out what the problem is?”
Which, translated from the Diplomatic, meant “Something is rotten in the House of Ksantiri and your brother is shamelessly spitting in my face. You'd better sort it out quickly or I'll have to deal with it myself!”
“No, it's fine, Your Highness, I'll send for him.”
“As you wish. But it would be impolite for us to start eating while we're still waiting for a guest, so perhaps you could grant me the favour of a short private interview? I think I remember seeing a small room just over there which would do nicely. Aldegard, would you be kind enough to join us?”
Nandak visibly relaxed: a private interview with the Emperor and Aldegard could only be about the office of Mirror. He was glad to be able to talk about something other than the shameful behaviour of his cretinous brother. So they excused themselves to their guests and moved to the smaller room, where they sat in comfortable chairs around a small table well furnished with refreshments.
“If you don't mind,” said Julien, “I'd like to introduce someone to you. Xarax!”
The haptir seemed to materialise on the arm of the chair Nandak was sitting in. The man started to reach towards his belt.
“If I were you,” Julien warned him, “I'd keep absolutely still. Xarax is one of my personal advisers, and he's by far the most dangerous. Provided that you can keep still you'll have the privilege of a private interview with the Emperor's Haptir. He'll replay for you a most fascinating conversation between Lord Delian and his Master-at-Arms.”
Xarax laid his claw on Nandak's arm – the man seemed almost to have turned to stone, for some reason - and then removed it again a few seconds later. Once again Nandak drew breath to protest, and once again Julien stopped him.
“I really would urge you not to deny the evidence,” he said calmly. “Lord Aldegard is here as a representative of the Council of Mirrors, and I'm sure you know the power that they hold. From this point on every word you utter will be accurately recorded, just as happened in the scene you've just witnessed, and your words will have immediate and irreversible consequences for you and your House. Is that clear?”
Nandak nodded.
“Lord Aldegard is going to suggest a course of action which has my full approval, and I hope that it gets yours, too.”
“Noble Lord,” said Aldegard, “You would appear to be guilty of conspiracy against the security of the Nine Worlds. You are, of course, aware of the punishment for such a major crime. However, the Council of Mirrors is prepared to offer you an opportunity to accept a reduced penalty. You may, as a sign of your contrition and as a way to keep the peace of the R'hinz, lead the Council's Guardians to the arms referred to in the conversation you have just witnessed, as well as to any other illegal arms cache that you might know about. You can also submit voluntarily to certain changes in the administration of your domains, and in particular, of the Domain of Ksantir.
“That might come as a surprise to you, but you can blame your Honourable Brother for that: he was stupid enough to refuse to comply with an order that came directly from the Emperor himself, thereby indicating that he did not believe that Yulmir still had sufficient power to protect his messengers. I might add that the hatred he has kindled in the hearts of the people he was supposed to protect has convinced the Council that his talents would be better employed in governing some small uninhabited islet or other.
“But, back to your own situation: you can accept the discreet supervision of a private Councillor appointed by the Council of Mirrors. And finally you can give up the burden of becoming Emperor's Mirror – you can say that you do not feel worthy of following your late lamented Father in that role.
“Of course, you are entirely at liberty to choose another path – for example, you could challenge the accuracy of the charges that have been levelled at you. However, I must warn you that if you choose to follow that path I can absolutely guarantee that the resulting enquiry will uncover the truth – the whole truth, good or bad. Nor should you think that it will be possible to hide anything. For a crime of this magnitude the most extreme means of investigation are legitimate. I'm sure you are aware that there are some highly effective deep mind-probing techniques available to us, even though their use in the case of lesser crimes is prohibited due to the risk of permanent damage to the mind of the person being sounded. But if you truly have nothing to hide then you would have nothing to fear from such an investigation. So... what would you like to do?”
“I accept your terms.”
“Finally you're showing some good sense. It's just a pity that you were bereft of it when you committed yourself to this stupidity.”
“And now that you've agreed,” said Julien, standing up, “I don't see any reason to keep your guests waiting any longer, do you?”
oo0oo
It was a strange meal. The Noble Lord Nandak seemed lost in thought. Of course, the other guests decided, he was probably grieving for his lost father. As for Lord Nekal, maybe he'd eaten something not entirely fresh at breakfast, because he barely ate a thing – and that was odd, because normally he had a very healthy appetite indeed. The consensus among the guests was that Nekal's cook was going to find himself in hot water.
Everyone said that the Emperor was absolutely charming, even though that was hardly the first adjective which had sprung to mind when people had described the Master of the Known Universe in the past. All the same, it was certainly an apt description for the new personality under whose guise Yulmir had chosen to reveal himself – and all the ladies present declared that he was exactly what they would have looked for in a son.
One guest, however, left the table in a state of such confusion that it quite ruined the rest of his day. It was Lord Delian, who simply could not understand why, out of all the subjects available to him, the Emperor had chosen to ask him for the name of his Master-at-Arms.
oo0oo
Comments, reactions, questions and so on may as usual be sent to the author at engor@laposte.net