Orichalcum
First Post
Wonderful post, havenstone, despite what I imagine must have been some frustration at the time over Atrix' splitting the party. When do you want me to chime in with my intro?
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The Talismans of Aerdrim
- Thread starter havenstone
- Start date
Feir Fireb
First Post
To be fair, havenstone had several options that didn't involve splitting the party, nor even all of us getting sold to the Emperor. Most of them probably would have been quite painful for Atrix. But I'm guessing once the Chancellor decided to bid, the outcome was a foregone conclusion
havenstone
First Post
Heh. I was fully prepared for the PCs to be bought en masse by either Archmaster Orozu or the Tang Estate, depending on whether the more charismatic characters succeeded in swaying the auction. Atrix's sudden decision that he only wanted to be bought by the Emperor was... well, typical. I was more amused than frustrated -- as you've noted earlier, I was starting to move away from plot handcuffs and enjoying the results of stronger PC agency.
Of course, I didn't have any Imperial Palace material ready, so Atrix's and Darren's players got to sit patiently through the tail end of the session, and we then met separately a couple days later to game out their time in the gilded cage.
For narrative purposes, however, we'll follow Atrix and Darren for the next stretch of this SH. Feir Fireb: how about another lengthy excerpt from the Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline?
Feir Fireb
First Post
Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Ascending the Mount
WHILE THERE ARE many who would literally kill to know the secret ways between the inner recesses of the Xaimani Imperial Palace and the outer reaches of Tziwan, I very much doubt that any would choose to learn them the way that Atrix d'Loriad and I did. Certainly, the threat of gelding would be enough to discourage anyone who was not already reluctant to become a slave. I suppose that fact makes this book alone a treasure that would command a great price to even a marginally astute purchaser, though I suspect this account may now be of less use to a reader than it would have been at the time.
Which reminds me: Rian, if you are reading this and ever want the incessant retelling of this story to end, you shall have to assist me in undoing the great misfortunes that we endured. I suspect it will involve you taking on a few of the grey hairs I gained from the experience, but doubtless it will be worth the effort.
Jokes aside, I suspect at least some of the traps and passages we encountered are likely to have been changed or rerouted since then. If the administrators of the Palace can make a man like Li Shotay caretaker of the Floating Gardens, I doubt they would be thoroughly unreflective in dealing revising palace security in the wake of what was probably the most famous slave escape in living memory. I can say this with embarrassing perfect humility only because it would be a lie to imply otherwise. Atrix, I think, would not care as much about that last point.
I HAD ORIGINALLY intended this account to be primarily technical in nature, as it was at first intended to help our compatriots and allies in Tziwan who might have need of it, at least as far as it should go in the face of whatever changes may have been made within the Palace. But I had not counted on how heartened and inspired many other slaves and former slaves would be in our repeated tellings of our escape and have thus endeavored for a more thorough recounting. It is easy for me as a Northerner to forget that just a few years ago the normalcy of slavery was almost utterly unquestioned in Xaiman and Sziao, and we two had the audacity to embarrass the Emperor himself. I am not, however, the one to make this a tale of derring-do. Corim has a greater gift for words in that way, if I could hold a knife to him for long enough to get it to paper. It does our cause no good to have a thoroughly heartening story that only he, I and Atrix remember and tell.
In any event, the escape from the Imperial Palace began almost as soon as we entered the palace itself. Of course, we'd been hoping to escape from slavery as soon as we were put in cages after the battle on the Arawai plains. But soon after we were taken into the Imperial Palace we found that the Mines of Graiqal were for siseo laou. All in the Empire know, of course, that siseo laou is a salt that causes water to become a terribly caustic acid, even your own sweat or the moisture of your lungs should you be so unfortunate to breathe it in. But this was the first we Northerners had ever heard of it, and the need to rescue Kay from the mines became urgent. Even had she been healthy at the time, knowing that most slaves in the siseo laou mines last maybe a month or two at best would have allowed us little room for delay. But she was already ill and haggard from the mark she bore and the treatment she endured on the long journey south. Indeed, the mark and her condition were the reasons she'd been considered so worthless as to hand off to that death pit. The thought even of Kay pocked and scarred let alone burned cruelly to death weighed heavily upon both of us, but especially upon Atrix.
As a result, my description of the interior of the Imperial Palace will be unfortunately sparse. Had we the time to be careful, we could have mustered our resources, explored the Palace as far as we were allowed and perhaps more than that, and learned much about the resplendent heart of the Xaimani Empire that is so concealed from all but the most powerful. The workings of the clockwork menagerie that decorates the Floating Gardens to which I was assigned, for example, will take at least whole book to describe in full, possibly several.
WE HAVE SUFFICIENT allies in the upper strata of Xaimani society to describe and access all of the inner confines of Tziwan, save the Imperial Palace. But those who have not yet been to Tziwan may benefit from knowing the layout of the heart of the city. Indeed, passing through tier after tier of the inner city gave us some of our strongest impressions of the regimentation of Xaimani society, even beyond the existence of slavery, the Paths, and the Emperor. Even though Senallin has its nobility, offices and guilds, these sophistications seem slovenly and informal by comparison to the ordering of Xaimani culture. But to be blunt, the Xaimani way would seem an elaborate parody of the divisions of Senalline society, were Xaiman not reinforced by its swords and all the rest. In the North, only a bullying child or a depraved criminal would make a man bow so low he can taste the dirt. In Xaiman, it is the proper obeisance of slaves in the presence of nobles. Proud as he was, these prostrations chafed Atrix in particular.
In any event, the Chancellor (or, more likely, one of his underlings) had entrusted these Northern curiosities for the Emperor to Slavemaster Chang, a dignified Xaimani but no less a slave than we for all his authority in the Palace. For all his propriety and loyalty, he was rewarded with death as punishment for our escape. We, of course, have earned excruciation. There are a remarkable number of things that can earn a slave of the Imperial Palace excruciation, probably (to the great chagrin of myself and Atrix) many more than any other slave need worry about. And Chang was exhaustive in explaining them. He also taught us the proper obeisances to different nobles as we made our way up the Imperial Stair and upon our arrival at the Palace.
Chang quickly taught us our new places in the order of things: Atrix was to showcase his elegance and exoticism for the Imperial Household, whether at the many parties and functions held with nobles and officials in attendance or in the simple privacy of the Imperial Family itself. He would serve food with grace, dance strange Northern dances elegantly (which he was very good at and loved to do of course, although he was rather more used to the kinds that played a role in courtship and hence less suitable for solitary performance) and tell strange and interesting stories of the Emperor's new Northern territories.
I, on the other hand, was to be apprenticed as a craftsman to Li Shotay, master of the Floating Gardens. Chang told me that this too was an honor. But I would hear the details of my duties more fully from Master Li.
Beforehand, of course, Chang had us bathed and shaved, stripping us of the tattered garments we'd worn in the squalor of the slave cages. Dressed in new grey loincloths, there was no more hiding the amulet that I'd been given by my dwarrow friends, and Chang confiscated it. I was desperate not to lose something so irreplaceable. Even neglecting the memory it held for me of the dwarrow, the ability to see and hear as the dwarrow do would be invaluable for our escape. I begged and pleaded with Chang that I might keep it, deferentially lying that I would be a better and more loyal slave. He kept it, reminding me that slaves were not permitted to own property, but suggested to my relief that he might return the “trinket” to my keeping as a reward for extremely good behavior. I was of course cautious to emphasize its sentimental value and not to let slip any hint of its strange powers. To be sure, Atrix and I would have later died under Tziwan without it. Little did I consider at the time that the dwarrow are unknown in the South save through legends of their cruel and debased cousins, and possession of such an amulet might have been the end of me. Fortunately it had bonded to me and seemed in no way magical, so Chang kept it in store as an incentive.
The consequence for poor behavior, however, would have been the normal lot of male slaves in the Palace: gelding. The fear of this alone led me and Atrix to regret having brought the attention of the Chancellor at the auction. We escaped with our manhoods intact solely by virtue of Northerners being considered sufficiently exotic that we might be kept for breeding stock if deemed satisfactory as slaves.
THE IMPERIAL PALACE is situated atop the mount about which Tziwan is built, rising above the sea and the cliffs which form the eastern and southern boundaries of the outer qoheis. Although there are other entries to the Palace, the only one that is well-known is a great gatehouse in its outer wall that is heavily guarded and may be sealed by two silver portcullises. Much care has been put into centuries of ornamentation designed to impress with the grandeur of the Emperor (and truly we were impressed, having nothing approaching its strange beauty even in Lynar-by-the-Sea). The reliefs of dragons, ki-rin and strange demons have the exquisite delicacy of fortifications that have not been assaulted in centuries, and the wild abandon of artisans who do not expect such violence to mar it for as long as they can imagine. And truly, even without the virtue of being well-guarded by the many loyal soldiers of the Xaimani Emperor, the strength of the Palace benefits greatly from its location on a height, and walls and an approach that are well-designed to take advantage of it. We blanched at the thought of exiting it unbidden.
For there is only a single great stairway up the mount of Tziwan from the Forge gate that passes through the tiers of the bureaucrats and the nobles. This stairway typically has multiple guards of the Spear Path every few yards. There are gates that lead to these other tiers from the Stairway, but they are riddled with murder holes for hidden archers and have great signal gongs perched atop them. As we passed up the stairway, Chang pointed out the great buildings that rose above the walls of the Stairway. As we passed through the bureaucratic sector, Chang told us that the Minister of State and his allies have palaces in the north of the tier, the Minister of Security and his allies to the south, and the other ministers on the far side, past the Palace. But we could only see a few of them. We could see, higher up, the Sky Temple, which was not adorned by spires and steeples as temples to Ii are in the North, but rather a single great dome that circles the entire middlemount, gilded and lacquered with scenes from Xaimani scripture and presumably buzzing with the priests that we saw entering and leaving the gates. The ability to support such a massive dome is an architectural feat that I have not had a chance to study, but having seen smaller variations elsewhere I have several ideas as to how it may be done.
[Brief excursion on architectural theory]
Above the palace was the House of the Scroll, a great library housed in a single building large enough to be a small tier in itself. By comparison, the Archives of Senallin occupy a mere portion of the section of the Palace at Lynar which is governed by the d'Syrnon family, which is itself one of five. And above that, at the commanding height of the center of Tziwan, sat the Imperial Palace in all its glory: walled, wrapped in protocol and singularly ensconced in centuries of deference towards the ruler of the Empire. A more formidable prison I could not imagine.
[This section is interspersed with various illustrations: a rough map of the upper tiers of Tziwan with all locations noted, as well as a few wizards' spires. The area around the palace of the Minister of Security is rather more detailed and the palace itself has its own page and rough map. There are rough schematics of walls and gates with notes speculating as to unseen design details and examples of statuary placement]
WHILE THERE ARE many who would literally kill to know the secret ways between the inner recesses of the Xaimani Imperial Palace and the outer reaches of Tziwan, I very much doubt that any would choose to learn them the way that Atrix d'Loriad and I did. Certainly, the threat of gelding would be enough to discourage anyone who was not already reluctant to become a slave. I suppose that fact makes this book alone a treasure that would command a great price to even a marginally astute purchaser, though I suspect this account may now be of less use to a reader than it would have been at the time.
Which reminds me: Rian, if you are reading this and ever want the incessant retelling of this story to end, you shall have to assist me in undoing the great misfortunes that we endured. I suspect it will involve you taking on a few of the grey hairs I gained from the experience, but doubtless it will be worth the effort.
Jokes aside, I suspect at least some of the traps and passages we encountered are likely to have been changed or rerouted since then. If the administrators of the Palace can make a man like Li Shotay caretaker of the Floating Gardens, I doubt they would be thoroughly unreflective in dealing revising palace security in the wake of what was probably the most famous slave escape in living memory. I can say this with embarrassing perfect humility only because it would be a lie to imply otherwise. Atrix, I think, would not care as much about that last point.
I HAD ORIGINALLY intended this account to be primarily technical in nature, as it was at first intended to help our compatriots and allies in Tziwan who might have need of it, at least as far as it should go in the face of whatever changes may have been made within the Palace. But I had not counted on how heartened and inspired many other slaves and former slaves would be in our repeated tellings of our escape and have thus endeavored for a more thorough recounting. It is easy for me as a Northerner to forget that just a few years ago the normalcy of slavery was almost utterly unquestioned in Xaiman and Sziao, and we two had the audacity to embarrass the Emperor himself. I am not, however, the one to make this a tale of derring-do. Corim has a greater gift for words in that way, if I could hold a knife to him for long enough to get it to paper. It does our cause no good to have a thoroughly heartening story that only he, I and Atrix remember and tell.
In any event, the escape from the Imperial Palace began almost as soon as we entered the palace itself. Of course, we'd been hoping to escape from slavery as soon as we were put in cages after the battle on the Arawai plains. But soon after we were taken into the Imperial Palace we found that the Mines of Graiqal were for siseo laou. All in the Empire know, of course, that siseo laou is a salt that causes water to become a terribly caustic acid, even your own sweat or the moisture of your lungs should you be so unfortunate to breathe it in. But this was the first we Northerners had ever heard of it, and the need to rescue Kay from the mines became urgent. Even had she been healthy at the time, knowing that most slaves in the siseo laou mines last maybe a month or two at best would have allowed us little room for delay. But she was already ill and haggard from the mark she bore and the treatment she endured on the long journey south. Indeed, the mark and her condition were the reasons she'd been considered so worthless as to hand off to that death pit. The thought even of Kay pocked and scarred let alone burned cruelly to death weighed heavily upon both of us, but especially upon Atrix.
As a result, my description of the interior of the Imperial Palace will be unfortunately sparse. Had we the time to be careful, we could have mustered our resources, explored the Palace as far as we were allowed and perhaps more than that, and learned much about the resplendent heart of the Xaimani Empire that is so concealed from all but the most powerful. The workings of the clockwork menagerie that decorates the Floating Gardens to which I was assigned, for example, will take at least whole book to describe in full, possibly several.
WE HAVE SUFFICIENT allies in the upper strata of Xaimani society to describe and access all of the inner confines of Tziwan, save the Imperial Palace. But those who have not yet been to Tziwan may benefit from knowing the layout of the heart of the city. Indeed, passing through tier after tier of the inner city gave us some of our strongest impressions of the regimentation of Xaimani society, even beyond the existence of slavery, the Paths, and the Emperor. Even though Senallin has its nobility, offices and guilds, these sophistications seem slovenly and informal by comparison to the ordering of Xaimani culture. But to be blunt, the Xaimani way would seem an elaborate parody of the divisions of Senalline society, were Xaiman not reinforced by its swords and all the rest. In the North, only a bullying child or a depraved criminal would make a man bow so low he can taste the dirt. In Xaiman, it is the proper obeisance of slaves in the presence of nobles. Proud as he was, these prostrations chafed Atrix in particular.
In any event, the Chancellor (or, more likely, one of his underlings) had entrusted these Northern curiosities for the Emperor to Slavemaster Chang, a dignified Xaimani but no less a slave than we for all his authority in the Palace. For all his propriety and loyalty, he was rewarded with death as punishment for our escape. We, of course, have earned excruciation. There are a remarkable number of things that can earn a slave of the Imperial Palace excruciation, probably (to the great chagrin of myself and Atrix) many more than any other slave need worry about. And Chang was exhaustive in explaining them. He also taught us the proper obeisances to different nobles as we made our way up the Imperial Stair and upon our arrival at the Palace.
Chang quickly taught us our new places in the order of things: Atrix was to showcase his elegance and exoticism for the Imperial Household, whether at the many parties and functions held with nobles and officials in attendance or in the simple privacy of the Imperial Family itself. He would serve food with grace, dance strange Northern dances elegantly (which he was very good at and loved to do of course, although he was rather more used to the kinds that played a role in courtship and hence less suitable for solitary performance) and tell strange and interesting stories of the Emperor's new Northern territories.
I, on the other hand, was to be apprenticed as a craftsman to Li Shotay, master of the Floating Gardens. Chang told me that this too was an honor. But I would hear the details of my duties more fully from Master Li.
Beforehand, of course, Chang had us bathed and shaved, stripping us of the tattered garments we'd worn in the squalor of the slave cages. Dressed in new grey loincloths, there was no more hiding the amulet that I'd been given by my dwarrow friends, and Chang confiscated it. I was desperate not to lose something so irreplaceable. Even neglecting the memory it held for me of the dwarrow, the ability to see and hear as the dwarrow do would be invaluable for our escape. I begged and pleaded with Chang that I might keep it, deferentially lying that I would be a better and more loyal slave. He kept it, reminding me that slaves were not permitted to own property, but suggested to my relief that he might return the “trinket” to my keeping as a reward for extremely good behavior. I was of course cautious to emphasize its sentimental value and not to let slip any hint of its strange powers. To be sure, Atrix and I would have later died under Tziwan without it. Little did I consider at the time that the dwarrow are unknown in the South save through legends of their cruel and debased cousins, and possession of such an amulet might have been the end of me. Fortunately it had bonded to me and seemed in no way magical, so Chang kept it in store as an incentive.
The consequence for poor behavior, however, would have been the normal lot of male slaves in the Palace: gelding. The fear of this alone led me and Atrix to regret having brought the attention of the Chancellor at the auction. We escaped with our manhoods intact solely by virtue of Northerners being considered sufficiently exotic that we might be kept for breeding stock if deemed satisfactory as slaves.
THE IMPERIAL PALACE is situated atop the mount about which Tziwan is built, rising above the sea and the cliffs which form the eastern and southern boundaries of the outer qoheis. Although there are other entries to the Palace, the only one that is well-known is a great gatehouse in its outer wall that is heavily guarded and may be sealed by two silver portcullises. Much care has been put into centuries of ornamentation designed to impress with the grandeur of the Emperor (and truly we were impressed, having nothing approaching its strange beauty even in Lynar-by-the-Sea). The reliefs of dragons, ki-rin and strange demons have the exquisite delicacy of fortifications that have not been assaulted in centuries, and the wild abandon of artisans who do not expect such violence to mar it for as long as they can imagine. And truly, even without the virtue of being well-guarded by the many loyal soldiers of the Xaimani Emperor, the strength of the Palace benefits greatly from its location on a height, and walls and an approach that are well-designed to take advantage of it. We blanched at the thought of exiting it unbidden.
For there is only a single great stairway up the mount of Tziwan from the Forge gate that passes through the tiers of the bureaucrats and the nobles. This stairway typically has multiple guards of the Spear Path every few yards. There are gates that lead to these other tiers from the Stairway, but they are riddled with murder holes for hidden archers and have great signal gongs perched atop them. As we passed up the stairway, Chang pointed out the great buildings that rose above the walls of the Stairway. As we passed through the bureaucratic sector, Chang told us that the Minister of State and his allies have palaces in the north of the tier, the Minister of Security and his allies to the south, and the other ministers on the far side, past the Palace. But we could only see a few of them. We could see, higher up, the Sky Temple, which was not adorned by spires and steeples as temples to Ii are in the North, but rather a single great dome that circles the entire middlemount, gilded and lacquered with scenes from Xaimani scripture and presumably buzzing with the priests that we saw entering and leaving the gates. The ability to support such a massive dome is an architectural feat that I have not had a chance to study, but having seen smaller variations elsewhere I have several ideas as to how it may be done.
[Brief excursion on architectural theory]
Above the palace was the House of the Scroll, a great library housed in a single building large enough to be a small tier in itself. By comparison, the Archives of Senallin occupy a mere portion of the section of the Palace at Lynar which is governed by the d'Syrnon family, which is itself one of five. And above that, at the commanding height of the center of Tziwan, sat the Imperial Palace in all its glory: walled, wrapped in protocol and singularly ensconced in centuries of deference towards the ruler of the Empire. A more formidable prison I could not imagine.
[This section is interspersed with various illustrations: a rough map of the upper tiers of Tziwan with all locations noted, as well as a few wizards' spires. The area around the palace of the Minister of Security is rather more detailed and the palace itself has its own page and rough map. There are rough schematics of walls and gates with notes speculating as to unseen design details and examples of statuary placement]
Feir Fireb
First Post
Orozu? [shudder] But I somehow doubt Ontaya would have let that happen.
As an OOC addendum to my "Journals" post, I will note that I'm pretty sure Darren's amulet was for all practical purposes the only magic item the party had acquired up to that point, something like a year of realtime after the campaign had begun with (usually) weekly sessions as long as school was in session and the GM was in the country. Losing the needle launcher Darren had designed was unpleasant, but he always knew how to make another one whenever the opportunity should arise. Losing the amulet really hurt, though. It was cold, cold hard
Feir Fireb
First Post
Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": The Floating Gardens
CHANG LED US further and further away from the Palace gate, not across the heart which contains the halls, offices and quarters of the Imperial Family and its most immediate servants but rather through room after room and hall after hall of slave quarters set into the interior of the outer wall of the Palace. In the East Wing he finally brought us our own quarters -- the first quarters we had had since the cages. Our beds were simple wooden pallets, dressed with straw, in a small room shared by several other slaves of the East Wing. What does it mean that the innermost ring that circles the Palace, closer to the Imperial Household even than the priests, administrators and nobles, is a ring of slaves? Even one untrained in Xaimani philosophy should see in this very fact an upheaval in what the Xaimani would call the natural order of things.
Interrupting a moment's appraisal, Chang bade us follow him again. A little ways north through the hallways we came upon what Chang called the Garden Gate, through which we heard flowing water and gentle music that was intricate but strange to me. Past the many Spear Path soldiers on either side, it opened onto a sight more astonishing than any I had yet seen, even after the abundant wonders of Tziwan and the Palace. Here was a great walled courtyard that was open to the sky; though it was in the midst of artifice after artifice of Xaimani architecture, it was full of lush greenery of every kind. Everywhere that one could look, there were great topiary pieces, exquisitely shaped into great beasts such as dragons, lions and elephants. But the artistry did not end there, as the gardens also held intricate undulating geometric designs or more abstract pieces such as small trees shaped to evoke the image of clouds rolling down a mountain. A handful of slaves scattered throughout constantly but discreetly trimmed them.
There was also small greenery in abundance, with mosses and grasses flanking the carved pathways, ivy upon the walls and a riot of flowers everywhere that hung with unnatural grace. And such flowers! There were delicate exoticisms of every kind, orchids and strange flaring orange blossoms that look like small birds hovering in mid-flight, and others for which I still do not know the names. Most are unknown to the North and many are rare even in the jungles of lush Xaiman.
As I took all of the greenery in, I noticed that not only did small streams flow through this part of the Palace, filled with smooth stones and dotted with lily pads to provide a facade of natural beauty, but large sections of the garden were not set upon the Palace floor itself. They were planted upon great metal discs that gradually curve upwards at the edges, rising out of the water like shallow bowls and floating upon the water itself like great delicate boats in such a way I thought impossible for such a mass of material that was not wooden. And what's more, some of the streams actually flowed uphill. I thought this a clever optical illusion at first, but some time later when I had a chance to examine the water more closely found this not to be the case. Indeed, the water flowed uphill, and in such a way as was impossible for an ordinary pumping mechanism.
We walked through the gardens and I saw that it was impossible to move more than a few yards without coming upon a music box upon a beautifully carved pedestal that would be a piece of art in itself did not one immediately compare it to the music box upon it. I had made one or two such mechanical devices myself as a youth in Rim Square, but they were quaint little contraptions of tin and pine from rough pieces such as could be easily found in a small village at little cost. These were carved of ivory and jade, or of rare woods in such fine detail they needed no adornment of jewelry. A pair of slaves scurried from pedestal to pedestal, keeping the boxes wound and the garden awash in music, anxiously eyeing the gate for members of the Imperial Household for whose enjoyment this garden existed.
Further interspersed amongst the foliage and music boxes were what appeared to be grand animals: strange creatures lying on the ground, beauteous birds perched in the trees. As we passed what looked to be a great sleeping cat that occasionally emitted a strange, thudding purr, it stretched its legs, yawned like a small horn and sat back on its haunches, gazing unblinkingly forward. I started, but soon saw that this was no great beast but rather a most elaborate and realistic clockwork device, with fur of many thousand carefully dyed and stitched threads, great glass-and-jade eyes, and a carefully concealed but elegantly shaped metallic carcass. Indeed, all of the creatures of the garden were mechanical, from singing birds to elegant gazelles to the smaller versions of the most fantastic beings of Xaimani legend.
IN THE MIDST of the garden stood a small, wrinkled old man, hunched over what would have appeared to be peacock -- were not the very real tailfeathers highlighted with tiny slivers of semiprecious gems, and the back and neck opened to reveal a fiendishly compact clockwork mechanism inside a wooden cavity. The old man, whose features I later learned to recognize as Szianar, wore the loincloth of a slave but had a conspicuous belt of varied tools at his side. He looked to be gingerly twisting a fastening tool in the peacock's innards until Chang announced, "Li Shotay, here is the Northerner of whom you have been advised."
Master Li gently raised his head and eyed me with curiosity. "So he is. I have been told you claim some skill with mechanical devices and clockwork such as can be found here in the Floating Gardens of the Emperor, the blessings of Heaven be upon him."
"I do," I replied, anxious not to let on that I had never handled anything even remotely as intricate as the devices in the Gardens.
"Good. I am in need of an assistant. To spite such skill as I have gained here, my hands begin to fail me in my old age. We shall want to get you up to speed quickly as the work here is unceasing and we wish to serve his Imperial Majesty without fail. Come, see how this warped spring has affected the components around it."
He bade me crane my head over the peacock, and if his hands were failing him I should have wondered what he was like in the prime of youth. His long, delicate fingers moved deftly and I had to rouse myself out of the reverie induced by the gardens in order to focus as he moved quickly from part to part, explaining their function.
BEFORE LI SHOTAY had finished, Slavemaster Chang interrupted, "I have other errands to attend to and must finish with these two. Da-ren, you shall report to Li Shotay here after I have departed." And with that, we returned to our quarters. Chang resumed, brusque but matter-of-fact: "The guards know when you two are and are not supposed to leave. Any attempt to transgress your limits will result in castration. Further attempts will result in your mutilation and sale to the Unrefined Path." He then spent the better part of an hour instructing us in the various prostrations that were required of us for the various members of the Imperial Household and ensuring that we could demonstrate them to his satisfaction.
With that, he turned to Atrix. "As you know, it is to be your great privilege and honor to entertain the Emperor and his family, guests, and greater servants with tales and performances from your Northern Lands. By now the representative of the Harmonic Path should be ready to make you suitably presentable and inform you as to your expected behavior. You," he said, turning to me, "shall report to your duties without delay."
As Chang passed through the door and turned his back to us, Atrix gave me a wry, silent farewell with his eyebrows, an ironic smile and a quick nod of head. He then wheeled about and the two of them left me on my own.
CHANG LED US further and further away from the Palace gate, not across the heart which contains the halls, offices and quarters of the Imperial Family and its most immediate servants but rather through room after room and hall after hall of slave quarters set into the interior of the outer wall of the Palace. In the East Wing he finally brought us our own quarters -- the first quarters we had had since the cages. Our beds were simple wooden pallets, dressed with straw, in a small room shared by several other slaves of the East Wing. What does it mean that the innermost ring that circles the Palace, closer to the Imperial Household even than the priests, administrators and nobles, is a ring of slaves? Even one untrained in Xaimani philosophy should see in this very fact an upheaval in what the Xaimani would call the natural order of things.
Interrupting a moment's appraisal, Chang bade us follow him again. A little ways north through the hallways we came upon what Chang called the Garden Gate, through which we heard flowing water and gentle music that was intricate but strange to me. Past the many Spear Path soldiers on either side, it opened onto a sight more astonishing than any I had yet seen, even after the abundant wonders of Tziwan and the Palace. Here was a great walled courtyard that was open to the sky; though it was in the midst of artifice after artifice of Xaimani architecture, it was full of lush greenery of every kind. Everywhere that one could look, there were great topiary pieces, exquisitely shaped into great beasts such as dragons, lions and elephants. But the artistry did not end there, as the gardens also held intricate undulating geometric designs or more abstract pieces such as small trees shaped to evoke the image of clouds rolling down a mountain. A handful of slaves scattered throughout constantly but discreetly trimmed them.
There was also small greenery in abundance, with mosses and grasses flanking the carved pathways, ivy upon the walls and a riot of flowers everywhere that hung with unnatural grace. And such flowers! There were delicate exoticisms of every kind, orchids and strange flaring orange blossoms that look like small birds hovering in mid-flight, and others for which I still do not know the names. Most are unknown to the North and many are rare even in the jungles of lush Xaiman.
As I took all of the greenery in, I noticed that not only did small streams flow through this part of the Palace, filled with smooth stones and dotted with lily pads to provide a facade of natural beauty, but large sections of the garden were not set upon the Palace floor itself. They were planted upon great metal discs that gradually curve upwards at the edges, rising out of the water like shallow bowls and floating upon the water itself like great delicate boats in such a way I thought impossible for such a mass of material that was not wooden. And what's more, some of the streams actually flowed uphill. I thought this a clever optical illusion at first, but some time later when I had a chance to examine the water more closely found this not to be the case. Indeed, the water flowed uphill, and in such a way as was impossible for an ordinary pumping mechanism.
We walked through the gardens and I saw that it was impossible to move more than a few yards without coming upon a music box upon a beautifully carved pedestal that would be a piece of art in itself did not one immediately compare it to the music box upon it. I had made one or two such mechanical devices myself as a youth in Rim Square, but they were quaint little contraptions of tin and pine from rough pieces such as could be easily found in a small village at little cost. These were carved of ivory and jade, or of rare woods in such fine detail they needed no adornment of jewelry. A pair of slaves scurried from pedestal to pedestal, keeping the boxes wound and the garden awash in music, anxiously eyeing the gate for members of the Imperial Household for whose enjoyment this garden existed.
Further interspersed amongst the foliage and music boxes were what appeared to be grand animals: strange creatures lying on the ground, beauteous birds perched in the trees. As we passed what looked to be a great sleeping cat that occasionally emitted a strange, thudding purr, it stretched its legs, yawned like a small horn and sat back on its haunches, gazing unblinkingly forward. I started, but soon saw that this was no great beast but rather a most elaborate and realistic clockwork device, with fur of many thousand carefully dyed and stitched threads, great glass-and-jade eyes, and a carefully concealed but elegantly shaped metallic carcass. Indeed, all of the creatures of the garden were mechanical, from singing birds to elegant gazelles to the smaller versions of the most fantastic beings of Xaimani legend.
IN THE MIDST of the garden stood a small, wrinkled old man, hunched over what would have appeared to be peacock -- were not the very real tailfeathers highlighted with tiny slivers of semiprecious gems, and the back and neck opened to reveal a fiendishly compact clockwork mechanism inside a wooden cavity. The old man, whose features I later learned to recognize as Szianar, wore the loincloth of a slave but had a conspicuous belt of varied tools at his side. He looked to be gingerly twisting a fastening tool in the peacock's innards until Chang announced, "Li Shotay, here is the Northerner of whom you have been advised."
Master Li gently raised his head and eyed me with curiosity. "So he is. I have been told you claim some skill with mechanical devices and clockwork such as can be found here in the Floating Gardens of the Emperor, the blessings of Heaven be upon him."
"I do," I replied, anxious not to let on that I had never handled anything even remotely as intricate as the devices in the Gardens.
"Good. I am in need of an assistant. To spite such skill as I have gained here, my hands begin to fail me in my old age. We shall want to get you up to speed quickly as the work here is unceasing and we wish to serve his Imperial Majesty without fail. Come, see how this warped spring has affected the components around it."
He bade me crane my head over the peacock, and if his hands were failing him I should have wondered what he was like in the prime of youth. His long, delicate fingers moved deftly and I had to rouse myself out of the reverie induced by the gardens in order to focus as he moved quickly from part to part, explaining their function.
BEFORE LI SHOTAY had finished, Slavemaster Chang interrupted, "I have other errands to attend to and must finish with these two. Da-ren, you shall report to Li Shotay here after I have departed." And with that, we returned to our quarters. Chang resumed, brusque but matter-of-fact: "The guards know when you two are and are not supposed to leave. Any attempt to transgress your limits will result in castration. Further attempts will result in your mutilation and sale to the Unrefined Path." He then spent the better part of an hour instructing us in the various prostrations that were required of us for the various members of the Imperial Household and ensuring that we could demonstrate them to his satisfaction.
With that, he turned to Atrix. "As you know, it is to be your great privilege and honor to entertain the Emperor and his family, guests, and greater servants with tales and performances from your Northern Lands. By now the representative of the Harmonic Path should be ready to make you suitably presentable and inform you as to your expected behavior. You," he said, turning to me, "shall report to your duties without delay."
As Chang passed through the door and turned his back to us, Atrix gave me a wry, silent farewell with his eyebrows, an ironic smile and a quick nod of head. He then wheeled about and the two of them left me on my own.
Feir Fireb
First Post
Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Ticking Clocks
IN CHOOSING BETWEEN our spare and cramped quarters and the wonders of the gardens I lost no time, but I at least took enough time in returning to Li Shotay to partake more deeply of the sights, sounds and smells. I casually and reflexively scanned the construction for weaknesses and venues of escape, but only halfheartedly. Even had I not been stripped of all of my hard-earned tools and Mullod's amulet, even without Slavemaster Chang's stern warnings, the carefully constructed walls and gates thick with guards were enough to urge caution and patience.
Li Shotay welcomed me warmly but lost no time in putting me to work. Although the gaps in my understanding of those ingenious devices quickly became evident, Master Li was a great believer in learning by doing and was far too busy for a more methodical course of instruction. But I smiled quietly to myself the instant I first grasped one of the picks used to gently pry open the compartments of the clockwork animals. Putting on a new belt of tools, I immediately felt less naked and helpless, as if I had already taken the first step towards our escape. There were no proper locksmith's tools to be sure, but the contents of that pouch were varied and well made. I was sure I could make them do what I needed when the time came.
Master Li was a hard taskmaster but never unnecessarily harsh or cruel. He simply demanded perfection because that is what the Imperial Family demanded, and on a timescale that we two could not control. They expected their machines to simply and reliably work. As the slaves who maintained the machines, we had to be as reliable in our work as the Imperial Family expected the machines to be. This is, of course, an absurdity to anyone who knows the ways of moving parts that rust and rot and fail. But the whole of the Empire would appear to have been carefully crafted to shield its sovereign from inconvenient realities.
[Here there are several haphazardly drawn and labelled diagrams of mechanical beasts and music boxes, first drafts. Some contain insets of finer detail.]
SEVERAL EXHAUSTING HOURS of springs, gears and toothed drums passed before the idea of lying on a wooden pallet became more appealing than drinking in the beauty of the gardens and all that I was learning, and several more hours passed before Li Shotay allowed me to do so. I returned to find Atrix already there. My first reaction was to laugh. His hair had been cut and lacquered, his face caked in eyeshadow and rouge, and his body draped in flowing, colorful ribbons. Decorated to a Xaimani ideal of a slave's beauty, he looked to me less the popinjay of Rim Square and more a streetwalker or a clown. His face was ashen beneath the makeup.
"Darren", he said, "we have to get out."
I stifled my guffaw at the sound of his voice, as grim and determined as I've ever heard him. It was then that he first told me of his cousin Kay's danger of which I have previously written. He didn't even bother glossing over the fact that he had been sent to entertain a gaggle of princes and nobles with his stories until he'd told me that he'd learned the nature of the Mines of Graiqal and the siseo laou. I saw desperate resolve in his eyes. Every day that we remained in the Palace might be our last chance to rescue Kay. But in that moment we abandoned our cautions and ambitions and agreed to seize the first opportunity for escape that presented itself. We would already lose a precious day to the journey to Graiqal itself.
Exhausted, we collapsed onto our pallets, gazing at the ceiling and debating which modes of escape might show some promise based on our scant observations from our first day in the Palace. It wasn't until we were drifting off to sleep that Atrix began to dazedly recount his day's labors, gingerly rubbing the spot where Shect had run him through.
IN CHOOSING BETWEEN our spare and cramped quarters and the wonders of the gardens I lost no time, but I at least took enough time in returning to Li Shotay to partake more deeply of the sights, sounds and smells. I casually and reflexively scanned the construction for weaknesses and venues of escape, but only halfheartedly. Even had I not been stripped of all of my hard-earned tools and Mullod's amulet, even without Slavemaster Chang's stern warnings, the carefully constructed walls and gates thick with guards were enough to urge caution and patience.
Li Shotay welcomed me warmly but lost no time in putting me to work. Although the gaps in my understanding of those ingenious devices quickly became evident, Master Li was a great believer in learning by doing and was far too busy for a more methodical course of instruction. But I smiled quietly to myself the instant I first grasped one of the picks used to gently pry open the compartments of the clockwork animals. Putting on a new belt of tools, I immediately felt less naked and helpless, as if I had already taken the first step towards our escape. There were no proper locksmith's tools to be sure, but the contents of that pouch were varied and well made. I was sure I could make them do what I needed when the time came.
Master Li was a hard taskmaster but never unnecessarily harsh or cruel. He simply demanded perfection because that is what the Imperial Family demanded, and on a timescale that we two could not control. They expected their machines to simply and reliably work. As the slaves who maintained the machines, we had to be as reliable in our work as the Imperial Family expected the machines to be. This is, of course, an absurdity to anyone who knows the ways of moving parts that rust and rot and fail. But the whole of the Empire would appear to have been carefully crafted to shield its sovereign from inconvenient realities.
[Here there are several haphazardly drawn and labelled diagrams of mechanical beasts and music boxes, first drafts. Some contain insets of finer detail.]
SEVERAL EXHAUSTING HOURS of springs, gears and toothed drums passed before the idea of lying on a wooden pallet became more appealing than drinking in the beauty of the gardens and all that I was learning, and several more hours passed before Li Shotay allowed me to do so. I returned to find Atrix already there. My first reaction was to laugh. His hair had been cut and lacquered, his face caked in eyeshadow and rouge, and his body draped in flowing, colorful ribbons. Decorated to a Xaimani ideal of a slave's beauty, he looked to me less the popinjay of Rim Square and more a streetwalker or a clown. His face was ashen beneath the makeup.
"Darren", he said, "we have to get out."
I stifled my guffaw at the sound of his voice, as grim and determined as I've ever heard him. It was then that he first told me of his cousin Kay's danger of which I have previously written. He didn't even bother glossing over the fact that he had been sent to entertain a gaggle of princes and nobles with his stories until he'd told me that he'd learned the nature of the Mines of Graiqal and the siseo laou. I saw desperate resolve in his eyes. Every day that we remained in the Palace might be our last chance to rescue Kay. But in that moment we abandoned our cautions and ambitions and agreed to seize the first opportunity for escape that presented itself. We would already lose a precious day to the journey to Graiqal itself.
Exhausted, we collapsed onto our pallets, gazing at the ceiling and debating which modes of escape might show some promise based on our scant observations from our first day in the Palace. It wasn't until we were drifting off to sleep that Atrix began to dazedly recount his day's labors, gingerly rubbing the spot where Shect had run him through.
Feir Fireb
First Post
Excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Harmony
[A series of overhead diagrams of the Floating Gardens, heavily annotated with descriptions of structural elements, locations and types of clockwork creatures and music boxes, plants large enough to require significant root structure, remembered carvings and reliefs, typical numbers of guards, and direction of water flow. The Xaimani equivalent of the question mark abounds.]
[An overhead diagram of the slave quarters and connecting, similarly annotated but in much sparser detail].
NOTICE ANYTHING ABOUT the layout of the Floating Gardens? Where would you hide a secret passage amongst that riot of decoration if you wanted to? The natural location is much clearer when you have a diagram laid out in front of you, but at first I found the task phenomenally difficult without Mullod's amulet. I'd originally thought that the flowing water might escape to some location outside the palace, and for all I know that possibility may still be worth exploring. But, designed as it is by the Radiant Path, I fear the water flow may follow a closed system.
The Xaimani love of symmetry and harmony makes picking out irregularities in high Xaimani architecture frustratingly difficult, but also sometimes provides the first clues that something is amiss in the design. The Xaimani also value elegance to such a degree that one should take any unnecessary bulk in the palace as a sign. Notice in particular the load-bearing columns in the garden. A clever Xaimani architect will also attempt misdirection based on the basic assumptions of geomancy that all Xaimani have in common, but fortunately as a foreigner I was unencumbered by these assumptions. That said, they will always nest their arrangement in what they believe to be a deeper and subtler geomantic truth, so I have since then had to learn at least something of this architectural philosophy.
Days passed in frustration as I scoured the areas to which we were permitted for hidden or lost passages, and Atrix kept track of the movements of guards and nobles for patterns that we could exploit. Where most slaves would savor and stretch their mealtimes, I would bolt the rice and little cakes that looked to me like rancid milk [Senalline: "cheese"] but tasted like scrambled eggs and were in fact made of ground beans. I then had the remainder of my mealtime to look for a way out. Every errand Li Shotay sent me on took perhaps three or four minutes longer than it ought have so I could quietly examine some new corner of the Gardens.
Some few of those errands took me past the balconies on the walls from which I could see the ocean off to the east, and where the city sloped down to meet it, cliffs and docks. But not the twisted and lifeless docks that I had first encountered in Lynar! These bustled with life and human activity, people like tiny ants below scurrying along a maze of piers that had elaborate and well-maintained mechanisms for raising and lowering with the drastic swings of the tides. Watching the vessels drifting in and out of the port felt like walking into a fantasy from one day in Lynar, when I'd imagined how real ships might be. At least it did for a few moments before duties both open and secret beckoned. I could scarcely believe my own eyes and found my thoughts turning to ships whenever my mind had a chance to wander.
The wall is, itself, an exceedingly poor point of approach or exit. Even with its embellishments it is fairly sheer and even if Atrix could scale it as well as I, and neither of us ran the risk of breaking our legs in a fall, we would have been easy shots for the numerous guards upon it. At night the upper city remains relatively well-lit and the guards have beacons designed much like large bull's eye lanterns. To be sure, it might be done by someone well-equipped but would require a fairly elaborate scheme to distract the guards.
I HAD CUT back on sleep so I could be exploring the Gardens before Li Shotay arrived in the morning. It became obvious that if I remained at the palace for a while, I would quickly learn more about clockwork than either Doggerel or Cannedun had taught me. It was not long, however, before a haggard Li Shotay awoke me early one morning before dawn. His eyes wild and his hands trembling with panic, he rushed me to the Gardens. Out from amid the foliage drifted the wails of young girl who sounded as if her arm had been ripped off. Rounding a hedge I saw the weeping girl, intact, dressed in royal finery and standing next to a horned clockwork beast, a strange amalgamation of other creatures that Li Shotay called a Ki-rin. It sat beside her, dumb as a statue. Before she could catch sight of us, he halted me and pointed Ki-rin, hissing out, "It's supposed to sing to the dawn! She comes here every morning to hear it!"
"Is she..."
"She is the Princess Kimusa! We must fix it, the sun will rise soon!"
I comprehended Li Shotay's horror and followed his lead. If the situation continued, our lives might be forfeit on account of a child's disappointment. Approaching her, we engaged in the most cursory of obeisances possible for one of the Imperial Family, breaking from it as soon as we saw that she paid little attention through her tears. After Li Shotay pulled back several glittering scales, I opened the back of the Ki-rin, releasing the fasteners and prying off the lid. Inside lay some of the most fiendishly complicated clockwork I have ever seen. Not only did it contain a sort of flute and bellows attached to a toothed drum that turned in time with the notes and depressed the flute keys, it was all connected to a master clock with the counterweights hidden in a leg that drove a number of other mechanisms. The clock timed the device's operation, but the other mechanisms were driven by separately wound springs that took their cues from it. The Ki-rin could pose and gesture at different times, and would sway when it sang. Or at least it would if the main gearbox hadn't been jammed by a loose cog.
[A very detailed schematic of the Ki-rin]
Such problems are rarely obvious at first, so Li Shotay went from point to point along the musical apparatus and associated gears, loosening parts that might be too tight and tightening those that might be too loose. Some parts had clearly been thrown out of alignment by the primary malfunction and at least one needed to be replaced entirely. Meanwhile I began to dismantle the casing on the main gearbox to see if the problem might be there. Master Li, his hands sweaty and shaking, began to lose grasp of his tools, but not before he could help me remove a spring that would have taken five times as long with half as many hands. After passing my eyes over it a dozen times I finally found the cog but, uncertain how to get at it, managed to drop my pliers into the gearbox in my haste and nearly displace a half a dozen other gears. I anxiously retrieved the pliers and checked that no further damage was done. Then, very carefully, I removed the cog and set it in place, more securely and properly aligned. Hoping that we had found the root of the problem, I returned in sequence each part from the small pile we'd carefully laid out, set the gears in motion and closed the back without fully sealing it.
As the sun rose over the edge of the wall and flecked the leaves with gold, the Ki-rin reared back slightly and let out a soft, low, lilting croon. Swaying its neck in motion with its tune, it called forth to the dawn with rising joy that became a true overture. Li Shotay and I sat back and watched Princess Kimusa's tears fade into silent wonderment. At the time I could not have imagined a sweeter song.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, well after the Ki-rin had faded back to silence and Princess Kimusa had taken her leave of us, after we had resealed it completely and returned to rather more mundane maintenance tasks which we approached with such ease as we could afford, I was accosted by Slavemaster Chang. "For the past several hours, the Emperor's favorite daughter by the Niyonari Empress has been singing the praises of a particular Northerner slave to anyone she comes across. I am to understand that you have repaired Princess Kimusa's favorite creature of the Floating Gardens in time for a proper sunrise and that for this you are to be suitably rewarded."
With that, my heart skipped a beat as he removed from a pouch at his side the amulet that Mullod had given me.
He continued, "Know that your status is unchanged and what has been most graciously given for exemplary service can as easily be taken away in punishment."
I lied and promised Chang only the most satisfactory behavior. Receiving the amulet from him I gratefully slipped it over my head, and everything in the Palace was different.
[A series of overhead diagrams of the Floating Gardens, heavily annotated with descriptions of structural elements, locations and types of clockwork creatures and music boxes, plants large enough to require significant root structure, remembered carvings and reliefs, typical numbers of guards, and direction of water flow. The Xaimani equivalent of the question mark abounds.]
[An overhead diagram of the slave quarters and connecting, similarly annotated but in much sparser detail].
NOTICE ANYTHING ABOUT the layout of the Floating Gardens? Where would you hide a secret passage amongst that riot of decoration if you wanted to? The natural location is much clearer when you have a diagram laid out in front of you, but at first I found the task phenomenally difficult without Mullod's amulet. I'd originally thought that the flowing water might escape to some location outside the palace, and for all I know that possibility may still be worth exploring. But, designed as it is by the Radiant Path, I fear the water flow may follow a closed system.
The Xaimani love of symmetry and harmony makes picking out irregularities in high Xaimani architecture frustratingly difficult, but also sometimes provides the first clues that something is amiss in the design. The Xaimani also value elegance to such a degree that one should take any unnecessary bulk in the palace as a sign. Notice in particular the load-bearing columns in the garden. A clever Xaimani architect will also attempt misdirection based on the basic assumptions of geomancy that all Xaimani have in common, but fortunately as a foreigner I was unencumbered by these assumptions. That said, they will always nest their arrangement in what they believe to be a deeper and subtler geomantic truth, so I have since then had to learn at least something of this architectural philosophy.
Days passed in frustration as I scoured the areas to which we were permitted for hidden or lost passages, and Atrix kept track of the movements of guards and nobles for patterns that we could exploit. Where most slaves would savor and stretch their mealtimes, I would bolt the rice and little cakes that looked to me like rancid milk [Senalline: "cheese"] but tasted like scrambled eggs and were in fact made of ground beans. I then had the remainder of my mealtime to look for a way out. Every errand Li Shotay sent me on took perhaps three or four minutes longer than it ought have so I could quietly examine some new corner of the Gardens.
Some few of those errands took me past the balconies on the walls from which I could see the ocean off to the east, and where the city sloped down to meet it, cliffs and docks. But not the twisted and lifeless docks that I had first encountered in Lynar! These bustled with life and human activity, people like tiny ants below scurrying along a maze of piers that had elaborate and well-maintained mechanisms for raising and lowering with the drastic swings of the tides. Watching the vessels drifting in and out of the port felt like walking into a fantasy from one day in Lynar, when I'd imagined how real ships might be. At least it did for a few moments before duties both open and secret beckoned. I could scarcely believe my own eyes and found my thoughts turning to ships whenever my mind had a chance to wander.
The wall is, itself, an exceedingly poor point of approach or exit. Even with its embellishments it is fairly sheer and even if Atrix could scale it as well as I, and neither of us ran the risk of breaking our legs in a fall, we would have been easy shots for the numerous guards upon it. At night the upper city remains relatively well-lit and the guards have beacons designed much like large bull's eye lanterns. To be sure, it might be done by someone well-equipped but would require a fairly elaborate scheme to distract the guards.
I HAD CUT back on sleep so I could be exploring the Gardens before Li Shotay arrived in the morning. It became obvious that if I remained at the palace for a while, I would quickly learn more about clockwork than either Doggerel or Cannedun had taught me. It was not long, however, before a haggard Li Shotay awoke me early one morning before dawn. His eyes wild and his hands trembling with panic, he rushed me to the Gardens. Out from amid the foliage drifted the wails of young girl who sounded as if her arm had been ripped off. Rounding a hedge I saw the weeping girl, intact, dressed in royal finery and standing next to a horned clockwork beast, a strange amalgamation of other creatures that Li Shotay called a Ki-rin. It sat beside her, dumb as a statue. Before she could catch sight of us, he halted me and pointed Ki-rin, hissing out, "It's supposed to sing to the dawn! She comes here every morning to hear it!"
"Is she..."
"She is the Princess Kimusa! We must fix it, the sun will rise soon!"
I comprehended Li Shotay's horror and followed his lead. If the situation continued, our lives might be forfeit on account of a child's disappointment. Approaching her, we engaged in the most cursory of obeisances possible for one of the Imperial Family, breaking from it as soon as we saw that she paid little attention through her tears. After Li Shotay pulled back several glittering scales, I opened the back of the Ki-rin, releasing the fasteners and prying off the lid. Inside lay some of the most fiendishly complicated clockwork I have ever seen. Not only did it contain a sort of flute and bellows attached to a toothed drum that turned in time with the notes and depressed the flute keys, it was all connected to a master clock with the counterweights hidden in a leg that drove a number of other mechanisms. The clock timed the device's operation, but the other mechanisms were driven by separately wound springs that took their cues from it. The Ki-rin could pose and gesture at different times, and would sway when it sang. Or at least it would if the main gearbox hadn't been jammed by a loose cog.
[A very detailed schematic of the Ki-rin]
Such problems are rarely obvious at first, so Li Shotay went from point to point along the musical apparatus and associated gears, loosening parts that might be too tight and tightening those that might be too loose. Some parts had clearly been thrown out of alignment by the primary malfunction and at least one needed to be replaced entirely. Meanwhile I began to dismantle the casing on the main gearbox to see if the problem might be there. Master Li, his hands sweaty and shaking, began to lose grasp of his tools, but not before he could help me remove a spring that would have taken five times as long with half as many hands. After passing my eyes over it a dozen times I finally found the cog but, uncertain how to get at it, managed to drop my pliers into the gearbox in my haste and nearly displace a half a dozen other gears. I anxiously retrieved the pliers and checked that no further damage was done. Then, very carefully, I removed the cog and set it in place, more securely and properly aligned. Hoping that we had found the root of the problem, I returned in sequence each part from the small pile we'd carefully laid out, set the gears in motion and closed the back without fully sealing it.
As the sun rose over the edge of the wall and flecked the leaves with gold, the Ki-rin reared back slightly and let out a soft, low, lilting croon. Swaying its neck in motion with its tune, it called forth to the dawn with rising joy that became a true overture. Li Shotay and I sat back and watched Princess Kimusa's tears fade into silent wonderment. At the time I could not have imagined a sweeter song.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, well after the Ki-rin had faded back to silence and Princess Kimusa had taken her leave of us, after we had resealed it completely and returned to rather more mundane maintenance tasks which we approached with such ease as we could afford, I was accosted by Slavemaster Chang. "For the past several hours, the Emperor's favorite daughter by the Niyonari Empress has been singing the praises of a particular Northerner slave to anyone she comes across. I am to understand that you have repaired Princess Kimusa's favorite creature of the Floating Gardens in time for a proper sunrise and that for this you are to be suitably rewarded."
With that, my heart skipped a beat as he removed from a pouch at his side the amulet that Mullod had given me.
He continued, "Know that your status is unchanged and what has been most graciously given for exemplary service can as easily be taken away in punishment."
I lied and promised Chang only the most satisfactory behavior. Receiving the amulet from him I gratefully slipped it over my head, and everything in the Palace was different.
Feir Fireb
First Post
An excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": Second Tries
WORK WAS LIGHT the rest of the day as Li Shotay and I recovered from the morning's exhaustion, but the next day he began exerting the overcompensating discipline of someone punishing himself for failure to catch a problem in time and hoping never to repeat it. As we made our rounds of basic maintenance for the various royals' favorite devices, I resumed my routine of stealing time wherever I could find it from meals and errands. But this time I started from the beginning, retracing my old steps with a new tool. For all its calm and pleasance, the Gardens had been a riot of sensation even without the aid of heightened senses such as the dwarrow have. With the amulet, they came close to overwhelming. Warm and cool airs rose and fell, swirling in what has long been a familiar dance of colors that have no name in any human language. I listened for faint winds whistling through cracks and odd resonances in the construction.
Then, late in the second morning after Chang returned the amulet to me, six days after Kay had been sold to Graiqal, I saw something while searching the wall near where it joined the main structure of the palace at the southern edge of the Gardens. At the edge of dwarrow perception, a faint hint of cool air drifted from a crack at the base of one of the columns that dot the Garden wall that overlooks Tziwan. Stepping back, I realized that the columns alternated in thickness because half actually supported the wall or a small guardpost atop whereas the other half were purely decorative. This large one had no guardpost atop and to put a support column this close to the main structure was unnecessary, even though it fit the symmetry of the garden as I was sure there was another such column on the far end. Curious. I darted my eyes about seeking guards and, seeing none close enough to pay me any mind, poked my head through the last tall crenelation on the southern end of the wall to glimpse the other side. Sure enough, the wall thickened far too quickly at this point as it approached the palace. Returning quickly to the point where I saw the air moving, I held my ear close to the wall and tapped three times. Was that an echo? Three times again. Yes, there was some kind of chamber here.
Tapping at various other places, I soon became sure that the crack was at thinnest point of the chamber wall, probably the door. Looking around, I still saw no guards. I traced out a rectangle from where other cracks had airflow and saw that none of it was significantly covered by vines. I pried at the edges of the door and soon a stone at about waist level revealed itself to be a cleverly sculpted faceplate, attached by hinges to a lock behind it. Looking around again, I saw that not only was this hidden door conveniently distant from the nearest guards on the wall, but for the most part their rounds did not take guards to this part of the Gardens. I surreptitiously replaced the panel and noted the features of the relief carved here: a pastoral scene, with a couple I assumed to be an emperor and his empress, attended by soldiers and maidens and surrounded by trees in bloom. I returned to my errand, anxiously awaiting lunch and hoping Atrix would not be delayed by his entertainments.
Looking vaguely nauseated from having just had to repeat what had become his most popular stories, yet again, he immediately brightened up. We agreed that we needed to try it that day, but our earliest opportunity when neither of us would be missed would likely be that night, after Atrix had finished some expected evening entertainments. Neither of us knew where the door led or whether it led to much more than a hidden room. But from the depth of the sound and the amount of airflow for such small cracks there was likely to be a passage of some sort.
WE MADE OUR rendezvous at the wall and Atrix stood watch while I attempted to pick the lock. The lock was old but not decayed from disuse, and clearly produced by a locksmith who could command the kind of prices that the Imperial Palace could deliver. I worked at the lock furiously but had never yet encountered one so complicated or well-designed. My poor tinker's tools were not up to the task, and just as I was about to give up I heard a tiny "click." But not from the lock. I yelped in pain and with one hand brushed away a tiny needle that had embedded itself in my right hand.
I staunched the tiny rivulet of blood with my left thumb and saw Atrix lift the needle from the ground and hold it up to the light of the moons. Atrix silently cursed at the thin film that glistened upon it, the same color as the substance now sticky on my thumb. As I opened my mouth to ask what we ought to do next, the world began to whirl about me, and I nearly collapsed. My muscles limp and my head spinning, Atrix pulled my arm over his shoulder and helped me hobble all the way back to my pallet, hustling past the night guards and feigning exhaustion. I heard Atrix's voice echo in my head, "You're warm, man." I passed out from the poison.
I woke just before midday, weak and feverish, to a small crowd of people hovering over me. Li Shotay and Slavemaster Chang looked annoyed, Atrix relieved and a pair of Imperial Physicians mystified. Before any of the others could speak, Atrix blurted out, "Darren! So good to see you awake! You took ill last night, remember?" He gave me a meaningful glance and nod, indicating I should go along with him. I mirrored his nod.
The taller physician poked and prodded my gut, asking if it hurt. I shook my head in denial. The shorter one shook his head, "It's strange. I'm familiar with a variety of fevers, even the more deadly kinds that can be caught in the deep jungle, and I'm sure I've never seen one that affects the breathing so, nor causes that sort of discoloration in the veins. Are you sure he didn't eat anything unusual?"
Atrix shook his head. "I told you, it's a Northern disease, common enough in children but it can be dangerous in adults. I had it when I was 8, put me out of sorts for a week. It tends to be nastiest in the summer and the heat of the South may be making it much worse too. I wouldn't want to get too close or you might catch it." At an expectant gesture from Atrix, I managed a nod. Chang and Li Shotay backed away slightly.
The taller one turned to Chang, "Well, keep him off his feet for as long as the fever lasts and his heartbeat remains weak. Here, chew on this bark to lessen the fever's effects. We will return to check on him in two days time, but you may seek our attention if his condition worsens." Chang and Li Shotay grudgingly admitted they would follow their recommendation and as they filed out of the room I inadvertently scratched at the spot where the needle had pricked me and felt a daub of makeup. Atrix's doing, no doubt.
ATRIX REMAINED, SMILING but anxious. "How are you feeling my friend? You've been out for a while. You almost didn't make it."
"Well, the branding was worse. But that was over with pretty quickly. I can barely move."
Atrix lost his smile and shuffled his feet. "How soon do you think we'll be able to try again?"
"I don't know. Soon I hope, but I really need to rest. I feel awful."
Atrix breathed in deeply and nodded in resignation. "You're in no condition to do much of anything right now. Rest up. Now that the physicians have had a chance to talk to us, I'll be wanted elsewhere. I'll check on you in the evening."
I felt a little better in the evening, but not much. I remained in my pallet until the next morning and was still weak and feverish for much of the day but steadily improving. When Atrix came to eat lunch in the slave quarters, I suggested we might make another attempt the next evening if I was well enough.
Atrix shook his head, "No good. There's some kind of festival, a 'Day of Harvest,' the next day. The other slaves are claiming pretty much all the nobles and major officiaries in Tziwan will be there, so there will be work almost around the clock in preparation. Even if none of the slaves swarming about noticed us actually going, I'd be missed soon enough." He smirked sourly. "They want to show off the pale singing barbarian of the North."
I shook my head in frustration. "Afterwards?"
He began slowly and thoughtfully, "Well, many of the nobles will continue late into the night at their drinking. I expect many of the slaves attending to them will also be exhausted the next day."
I continued, "And if Li Shotay isn't expecting me because I've been too sick to work, that might also buy us some time".
"We'll try a few hours before dawn, then," Atrix said with growing enthusiasm, "and sleep in shifts after the festival, just to catch a little rest and make sure we don't oversleep."
I nodded in hopeful agreement, silently rueing the days that my carelessness had cost Kay.
WORK WAS LIGHT the rest of the day as Li Shotay and I recovered from the morning's exhaustion, but the next day he began exerting the overcompensating discipline of someone punishing himself for failure to catch a problem in time and hoping never to repeat it. As we made our rounds of basic maintenance for the various royals' favorite devices, I resumed my routine of stealing time wherever I could find it from meals and errands. But this time I started from the beginning, retracing my old steps with a new tool. For all its calm and pleasance, the Gardens had been a riot of sensation even without the aid of heightened senses such as the dwarrow have. With the amulet, they came close to overwhelming. Warm and cool airs rose and fell, swirling in what has long been a familiar dance of colors that have no name in any human language. I listened for faint winds whistling through cracks and odd resonances in the construction.
Then, late in the second morning after Chang returned the amulet to me, six days after Kay had been sold to Graiqal, I saw something while searching the wall near where it joined the main structure of the palace at the southern edge of the Gardens. At the edge of dwarrow perception, a faint hint of cool air drifted from a crack at the base of one of the columns that dot the Garden wall that overlooks Tziwan. Stepping back, I realized that the columns alternated in thickness because half actually supported the wall or a small guardpost atop whereas the other half were purely decorative. This large one had no guardpost atop and to put a support column this close to the main structure was unnecessary, even though it fit the symmetry of the garden as I was sure there was another such column on the far end. Curious. I darted my eyes about seeking guards and, seeing none close enough to pay me any mind, poked my head through the last tall crenelation on the southern end of the wall to glimpse the other side. Sure enough, the wall thickened far too quickly at this point as it approached the palace. Returning quickly to the point where I saw the air moving, I held my ear close to the wall and tapped three times. Was that an echo? Three times again. Yes, there was some kind of chamber here.
Tapping at various other places, I soon became sure that the crack was at thinnest point of the chamber wall, probably the door. Looking around, I still saw no guards. I traced out a rectangle from where other cracks had airflow and saw that none of it was significantly covered by vines. I pried at the edges of the door and soon a stone at about waist level revealed itself to be a cleverly sculpted faceplate, attached by hinges to a lock behind it. Looking around again, I saw that not only was this hidden door conveniently distant from the nearest guards on the wall, but for the most part their rounds did not take guards to this part of the Gardens. I surreptitiously replaced the panel and noted the features of the relief carved here: a pastoral scene, with a couple I assumed to be an emperor and his empress, attended by soldiers and maidens and surrounded by trees in bloom. I returned to my errand, anxiously awaiting lunch and hoping Atrix would not be delayed by his entertainments.
Looking vaguely nauseated from having just had to repeat what had become his most popular stories, yet again, he immediately brightened up. We agreed that we needed to try it that day, but our earliest opportunity when neither of us would be missed would likely be that night, after Atrix had finished some expected evening entertainments. Neither of us knew where the door led or whether it led to much more than a hidden room. But from the depth of the sound and the amount of airflow for such small cracks there was likely to be a passage of some sort.
WE MADE OUR rendezvous at the wall and Atrix stood watch while I attempted to pick the lock. The lock was old but not decayed from disuse, and clearly produced by a locksmith who could command the kind of prices that the Imperial Palace could deliver. I worked at the lock furiously but had never yet encountered one so complicated or well-designed. My poor tinker's tools were not up to the task, and just as I was about to give up I heard a tiny "click." But not from the lock. I yelped in pain and with one hand brushed away a tiny needle that had embedded itself in my right hand.
I staunched the tiny rivulet of blood with my left thumb and saw Atrix lift the needle from the ground and hold it up to the light of the moons. Atrix silently cursed at the thin film that glistened upon it, the same color as the substance now sticky on my thumb. As I opened my mouth to ask what we ought to do next, the world began to whirl about me, and I nearly collapsed. My muscles limp and my head spinning, Atrix pulled my arm over his shoulder and helped me hobble all the way back to my pallet, hustling past the night guards and feigning exhaustion. I heard Atrix's voice echo in my head, "You're warm, man." I passed out from the poison.
I woke just before midday, weak and feverish, to a small crowd of people hovering over me. Li Shotay and Slavemaster Chang looked annoyed, Atrix relieved and a pair of Imperial Physicians mystified. Before any of the others could speak, Atrix blurted out, "Darren! So good to see you awake! You took ill last night, remember?" He gave me a meaningful glance and nod, indicating I should go along with him. I mirrored his nod.
The taller physician poked and prodded my gut, asking if it hurt. I shook my head in denial. The shorter one shook his head, "It's strange. I'm familiar with a variety of fevers, even the more deadly kinds that can be caught in the deep jungle, and I'm sure I've never seen one that affects the breathing so, nor causes that sort of discoloration in the veins. Are you sure he didn't eat anything unusual?"
Atrix shook his head. "I told you, it's a Northern disease, common enough in children but it can be dangerous in adults. I had it when I was 8, put me out of sorts for a week. It tends to be nastiest in the summer and the heat of the South may be making it much worse too. I wouldn't want to get too close or you might catch it." At an expectant gesture from Atrix, I managed a nod. Chang and Li Shotay backed away slightly.
The taller one turned to Chang, "Well, keep him off his feet for as long as the fever lasts and his heartbeat remains weak. Here, chew on this bark to lessen the fever's effects. We will return to check on him in two days time, but you may seek our attention if his condition worsens." Chang and Li Shotay grudgingly admitted they would follow their recommendation and as they filed out of the room I inadvertently scratched at the spot where the needle had pricked me and felt a daub of makeup. Atrix's doing, no doubt.
ATRIX REMAINED, SMILING but anxious. "How are you feeling my friend? You've been out for a while. You almost didn't make it."
"Well, the branding was worse. But that was over with pretty quickly. I can barely move."
Atrix lost his smile and shuffled his feet. "How soon do you think we'll be able to try again?"
"I don't know. Soon I hope, but I really need to rest. I feel awful."
Atrix breathed in deeply and nodded in resignation. "You're in no condition to do much of anything right now. Rest up. Now that the physicians have had a chance to talk to us, I'll be wanted elsewhere. I'll check on you in the evening."
I felt a little better in the evening, but not much. I remained in my pallet until the next morning and was still weak and feverish for much of the day but steadily improving. When Atrix came to eat lunch in the slave quarters, I suggested we might make another attempt the next evening if I was well enough.
Atrix shook his head, "No good. There's some kind of festival, a 'Day of Harvest,' the next day. The other slaves are claiming pretty much all the nobles and major officiaries in Tziwan will be there, so there will be work almost around the clock in preparation. Even if none of the slaves swarming about noticed us actually going, I'd be missed soon enough." He smirked sourly. "They want to show off the pale singing barbarian of the North."
I shook my head in frustration. "Afterwards?"
He began slowly and thoughtfully, "Well, many of the nobles will continue late into the night at their drinking. I expect many of the slaves attending to them will also be exhausted the next day."
I continued, "And if Li Shotay isn't expecting me because I've been too sick to work, that might also buy us some time".
"We'll try a few hours before dawn, then," Atrix said with growing enthusiasm, "and sleep in shifts after the festival, just to catch a little rest and make sure we don't oversleep."
I nodded in hopeful agreement, silently rueing the days that my carelessness had cost Kay.
Feir Fireb
First Post
An excerpt from "The Unscholarly Journals of Darren the Senalline": A Time to Gather
BY THE END of the third day after my poisoning, I remained mildly ill but confident that I would finish my recovery from the poison with another night's sleep. I'd hoped to hide this fact until we attempted the secret door, but the second visit from the Imperial physicians laid to rest any doubts. Slavemaster Chang seemed especially pleased by my improvement. "Good, now you may assist with the festival Banquet".
I blinked, mystified. "Say again?"
"The number of eminent guests requires that we use the great feast hall, which is large enough that some will have difficulty seeing Atrix's performances clearly. But it would please his Imperial Majesty that all might see the fruits of his glorious conquest. I would not dare put an unskilled performer before the Emperor, but you should have little difficulty as a table servant and such work will keep you moving about the entire hall. Atrix will also be serving in addition to his performances and he is to instruct you in proper procedures and etiquette for these duties, as he has become well-acquainted with them. Li Shotay will manage another day without you, I am sure."
That night, Atrix taught me the proper forms of address for different nobles and officials of all sorts. Full obeisances became utterly impractical in a room full of possible recipients and thus were limited to the formal introduction of members of the Imperial Family itself. We established the fundamentals of table manners in Xaimani high society (or as a servant thereto) before delving into the details, of which there were enough to make one long for the simplicity of clockwork Ki-rin.
[A rough annotation map of a significant section of the palace, predominantly covering the Great Feast Hall, the Floating Gardens, the slave quarters, and surrounding and connecting areas]
THE DAY OF Harvest arrived, the 10th day since Kay had been sold to the Mines of Graiqal. Atrix and I noted that number without daring discuss the odds that she still lived or what condition we might expect to find her in. Immediately after breakfast Atrix escorted me about the feast hall, the kitchens, and the receiving areas to explain where I needed to be and when over the course of the Banquet.
We quickly devoured an early lunch and reported to the same member of the Harmonic Path who had been decorating Atrix so... interestingly... since our first day in the Palace. Dressed made up in ribbons, rouge and all the rest myself, I gave silent thanks to Ii for having not laughed the first time I saw Atrix so arrayed. Had I done so, Atrix would have never let me hear the end of my own preparation for the Banquet.
In the map on the preceding page, I have done my best to include all of the portions that I encountered on the Day of Harvest, and have filled in several others with descriptions from Atrix, labeled in red. The annotation is largely speculative but I have every reason to believe that careful examination would result in finding at least a handful of other secret passages within the Palace.
The first guests to take advantage of the Emperor's largesse began to arrive in mid-afternoon, and they came in all the variety of the people who call the Xaimani their masters. Many, despite distant origins, effectively called Tziwan their home for long stretches of time. But some had come explicitly for this occasion, to pay their respects to the Emperor. Though I did not know their names at the time, Seko, Minister of the Military, and Goru, Minister of Security, were in attendance, as were Archmasters Leratak and Shetzu of the Radiant Path. Several Generals of the Legions, Overlords of the Sword Path, attended as guests. Though most of the functionaries were Xaimani, the nobles and emissaries were varied indeed. At one table sat a handful of young, arrogant Lakshari, dark of skin and hair but with features much like those of Northerners. I found the Szianar difficult to tell from the Xaimani, but you could identify the emissaries from that part of the Empire by their elaborate headdresses and gaudy golden embroidery, and the Niyonari by their elegant austerity.
TRUE ENOUGH TO Chang's expectations, we were amongst the busiest of the slaves that night, as guest after guest requested refreshment or assistance. Atrix in particular attracted many of the attentions of the female attendees, though I had no shortage of them myself. After the initial socialization the guests wandered one by one into the feast hall where they reclined on luxuriant couches as slaves catered to every whim they dared indulge in the company of their peers. Atrix's service duties soon gave way to his performances. He began with dances and after the guests were well-settled and conversation began to die down he sang as well. The dances were... odd, but I had no idea what to expect.
They were obviously inspired by ones he knew from the North, but he had to make them fit the circumstances. Some of the folk dances he'd picked up while in Rim Square are suitable to unpaired dancing and a few of them reach a more rarefied form in the Palace of the Patriarchs, but they're generally better fit to dances in circles and lines. He'd managed to teach a few of those to other slaves who danced as well, but none danced them nearly as well or as much ease as he. This fact made him even more the center of attention than he already was. I found the music odd, too. There were no proper Northern songs, but I couldn't see how one would perform them on such instruments as the Xaimani used. As near as I could tell, Atrix had picked out Xaimani songs for the musicians that had a good-enough beat for the purpose of the dance and weren't so complicated that they couldn't introduce a Northern melody if he hummed it out for them.
Atrix's favorite dances had always been partnered ones that aided him in wooing women, such as I saw at the Patriarch's Ball in Lynar. Atrix had always been a strong lead, but with no one to match his skill for the more complicated dances he danced alone as if he had a phantom partner. Perhaps he pictured someone in particular in his mind to guide him. The Xaimani, of course, had no idea of this. Clearly intrigued and impressed by both his skill and how different the dances were from those of the other slaves, they followed each dance with a polite but enthusiastic round of applause.
The singing was more straightforward as Atrix was easily capable of carrying a tune whether with minimal accompaniment or completely solo. Hearing my friend singing the songs of our homeland, however far away it might be, brought me comfort and courage despite. It also provided a me welcome distraction for the nobles who would otherwise demand my attention.
AT THE HEIGHT of the Banquet, immediately before the serving of the meal, an Imperial Herald commanded the attention of the room and proclaimed the entrance of the Emperor. At this, a great fanfare arose from the musicians and all of the slaves made a great and lengthy prostration. I would expect the guests made appropriate gestures of respect for their station but I could not see with my head pressed to the ground. We returned to standing when the Emperor began to speak a few words of welcome to indicate that the guests should continue to enjoy the festivities. Rising up, I might have been startled by the expense of the Emperor's raiment had I not been distracted by the fact that he had arrived seated on a dais that floated perhaps three feet above the ground, the like of which I had never seen. Even more impressive was the brilliant golden corona that emanated from all about him, making him seem like one of Ii's saints come down from the heavens or some creature out of myth. Perhaps a dozen perfectly poised officers of the Sword Path surrounded him, a select honor guard wearing armor of enchanted silver that caught and reflected the light of the corona to dazzle the room.
The meal continued, as did Atrix's entertainments and my own servitorial duties. The Emperor paid close attention to Atrix's singing and dancing but relied upon his own most trusted personal servants for food and drink. For my part, I attempted to avert my gaze out to avoid seeming disrespectful, resisting the temptation to gawk at the sorcery that surrounded the Emperor.
Late that night, after all had left save a few Niyonari nobles who lay passed out from consuming too much of the rice spirits we had served, Slavemaster Chang interrupted our participation in the cleaning up to complement us.
"You both performed admirably tonight. If you continue to serve His Imperial Majesty well, you may find yourselves favored among his slaves indeed." Chang spoke with a demeanor generous enough that I suspected he'd received his own complements on the success of the Banquet.
We continued to strike the decorations and joined the other slaves in gathering for ourselves the leftover food that would spoil were it not soon consumed. Returning to our pallets, we ate easily the most massive feast we'd had since the Patriarch's ball at Lynar, well over a year previous and after countless days of meager gruel and later meals that were nutritious but uninspiring. We still managed to save enough for a generous breakfast and Atrix, mindful of my health, remained awake for the first brief shift.
For better or for worse, we did not expect to eat with the other slaves the following morning.
BY THE END of the third day after my poisoning, I remained mildly ill but confident that I would finish my recovery from the poison with another night's sleep. I'd hoped to hide this fact until we attempted the secret door, but the second visit from the Imperial physicians laid to rest any doubts. Slavemaster Chang seemed especially pleased by my improvement. "Good, now you may assist with the festival Banquet".
I blinked, mystified. "Say again?"
"The number of eminent guests requires that we use the great feast hall, which is large enough that some will have difficulty seeing Atrix's performances clearly. But it would please his Imperial Majesty that all might see the fruits of his glorious conquest. I would not dare put an unskilled performer before the Emperor, but you should have little difficulty as a table servant and such work will keep you moving about the entire hall. Atrix will also be serving in addition to his performances and he is to instruct you in proper procedures and etiquette for these duties, as he has become well-acquainted with them. Li Shotay will manage another day without you, I am sure."
That night, Atrix taught me the proper forms of address for different nobles and officials of all sorts. Full obeisances became utterly impractical in a room full of possible recipients and thus were limited to the formal introduction of members of the Imperial Family itself. We established the fundamentals of table manners in Xaimani high society (or as a servant thereto) before delving into the details, of which there were enough to make one long for the simplicity of clockwork Ki-rin.
[A rough annotation map of a significant section of the palace, predominantly covering the Great Feast Hall, the Floating Gardens, the slave quarters, and surrounding and connecting areas]
THE DAY OF Harvest arrived, the 10th day since Kay had been sold to the Mines of Graiqal. Atrix and I noted that number without daring discuss the odds that she still lived or what condition we might expect to find her in. Immediately after breakfast Atrix escorted me about the feast hall, the kitchens, and the receiving areas to explain where I needed to be and when over the course of the Banquet.
We quickly devoured an early lunch and reported to the same member of the Harmonic Path who had been decorating Atrix so... interestingly... since our first day in the Palace. Dressed made up in ribbons, rouge and all the rest myself, I gave silent thanks to Ii for having not laughed the first time I saw Atrix so arrayed. Had I done so, Atrix would have never let me hear the end of my own preparation for the Banquet.
In the map on the preceding page, I have done my best to include all of the portions that I encountered on the Day of Harvest, and have filled in several others with descriptions from Atrix, labeled in red. The annotation is largely speculative but I have every reason to believe that careful examination would result in finding at least a handful of other secret passages within the Palace.
The first guests to take advantage of the Emperor's largesse began to arrive in mid-afternoon, and they came in all the variety of the people who call the Xaimani their masters. Many, despite distant origins, effectively called Tziwan their home for long stretches of time. But some had come explicitly for this occasion, to pay their respects to the Emperor. Though I did not know their names at the time, Seko, Minister of the Military, and Goru, Minister of Security, were in attendance, as were Archmasters Leratak and Shetzu of the Radiant Path. Several Generals of the Legions, Overlords of the Sword Path, attended as guests. Though most of the functionaries were Xaimani, the nobles and emissaries were varied indeed. At one table sat a handful of young, arrogant Lakshari, dark of skin and hair but with features much like those of Northerners. I found the Szianar difficult to tell from the Xaimani, but you could identify the emissaries from that part of the Empire by their elaborate headdresses and gaudy golden embroidery, and the Niyonari by their elegant austerity.
TRUE ENOUGH TO Chang's expectations, we were amongst the busiest of the slaves that night, as guest after guest requested refreshment or assistance. Atrix in particular attracted many of the attentions of the female attendees, though I had no shortage of them myself. After the initial socialization the guests wandered one by one into the feast hall where they reclined on luxuriant couches as slaves catered to every whim they dared indulge in the company of their peers. Atrix's service duties soon gave way to his performances. He began with dances and after the guests were well-settled and conversation began to die down he sang as well. The dances were... odd, but I had no idea what to expect.
They were obviously inspired by ones he knew from the North, but he had to make them fit the circumstances. Some of the folk dances he'd picked up while in Rim Square are suitable to unpaired dancing and a few of them reach a more rarefied form in the Palace of the Patriarchs, but they're generally better fit to dances in circles and lines. He'd managed to teach a few of those to other slaves who danced as well, but none danced them nearly as well or as much ease as he. This fact made him even more the center of attention than he already was. I found the music odd, too. There were no proper Northern songs, but I couldn't see how one would perform them on such instruments as the Xaimani used. As near as I could tell, Atrix had picked out Xaimani songs for the musicians that had a good-enough beat for the purpose of the dance and weren't so complicated that they couldn't introduce a Northern melody if he hummed it out for them.
Atrix's favorite dances had always been partnered ones that aided him in wooing women, such as I saw at the Patriarch's Ball in Lynar. Atrix had always been a strong lead, but with no one to match his skill for the more complicated dances he danced alone as if he had a phantom partner. Perhaps he pictured someone in particular in his mind to guide him. The Xaimani, of course, had no idea of this. Clearly intrigued and impressed by both his skill and how different the dances were from those of the other slaves, they followed each dance with a polite but enthusiastic round of applause.
The singing was more straightforward as Atrix was easily capable of carrying a tune whether with minimal accompaniment or completely solo. Hearing my friend singing the songs of our homeland, however far away it might be, brought me comfort and courage despite. It also provided a me welcome distraction for the nobles who would otherwise demand my attention.
AT THE HEIGHT of the Banquet, immediately before the serving of the meal, an Imperial Herald commanded the attention of the room and proclaimed the entrance of the Emperor. At this, a great fanfare arose from the musicians and all of the slaves made a great and lengthy prostration. I would expect the guests made appropriate gestures of respect for their station but I could not see with my head pressed to the ground. We returned to standing when the Emperor began to speak a few words of welcome to indicate that the guests should continue to enjoy the festivities. Rising up, I might have been startled by the expense of the Emperor's raiment had I not been distracted by the fact that he had arrived seated on a dais that floated perhaps three feet above the ground, the like of which I had never seen. Even more impressive was the brilliant golden corona that emanated from all about him, making him seem like one of Ii's saints come down from the heavens or some creature out of myth. Perhaps a dozen perfectly poised officers of the Sword Path surrounded him, a select honor guard wearing armor of enchanted silver that caught and reflected the light of the corona to dazzle the room.
The meal continued, as did Atrix's entertainments and my own servitorial duties. The Emperor paid close attention to Atrix's singing and dancing but relied upon his own most trusted personal servants for food and drink. For my part, I attempted to avert my gaze out to avoid seeming disrespectful, resisting the temptation to gawk at the sorcery that surrounded the Emperor.
Late that night, after all had left save a few Niyonari nobles who lay passed out from consuming too much of the rice spirits we had served, Slavemaster Chang interrupted our participation in the cleaning up to complement us.
"You both performed admirably tonight. If you continue to serve His Imperial Majesty well, you may find yourselves favored among his slaves indeed." Chang spoke with a demeanor generous enough that I suspected he'd received his own complements on the success of the Banquet.
We continued to strike the decorations and joined the other slaves in gathering for ourselves the leftover food that would spoil were it not soon consumed. Returning to our pallets, we ate easily the most massive feast we'd had since the Patriarch's ball at Lynar, well over a year previous and after countless days of meager gruel and later meals that were nutritious but uninspiring. We still managed to save enough for a generous breakfast and Atrix, mindful of my health, remained awake for the first brief shift.
For better or for worse, we did not expect to eat with the other slaves the following morning.
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