Miresh and Aralim met in the foyer and laced up their own sandals as they always did. Ko’nagar said it was easily something that the servants could handle, but Aralim insisted they not handle it for that very reason. Narr stood there, behind them, in his big leather boots and long black cape. Did the servants dress him? The silent man did not offer Aralim any answers. Continue reading Aralim 52
While Aralim was lacing up his sandals to attend the Third Court, someone knocked. It had been a few uneventful weeks for the Selected and Aralim was arriving slightly later some days. The most interesting matter in the last two months had been a criminal case that was eventually sent before the Second Court.
“Come in,” Aralim called, standing up straight. It was Ko’nagar, their household steward, who bowed and entered his quarters. “What’s the matter?”
Ko frowned and spoke uncomfortably. “Miresh has locked herself in her quarters, sir.” Continue reading Aralim 51
Two statues guarded the wide stairway from the first floor of Fortress Marana to the second. The statues were taller than the height of a man, with curved necks and narrow, pointed faces. Each had a long protrusion of flesh from their scalps, hanging down their backs with pointed patterns that were either decorative or functional. Aralim had no idea what they were supposed to be, aside from some form of gargoyle to invoke fear into the people. Of course, all the soldiers were decorated with similarly grotesque and unnatural sculpting on their armaments. Continue reading Aralim 50
Fortress Marana was the home of operations for the military of Numa’nakres, an enormous stronghold built into the walls of the Iron Palace grounds which allowed access to both sides. It held a barracks for Rema’s garrison of the Royal Army in the lowest stories, and provided meeting place and training chambers for the martial arts and armaments of the elite fighting force on the upper stories, while overlooking the grounds and the city through four sturdy watchtowers. General Ro both resided and worked here, for three days a week. The other two were spent attending the First Court, of course. Continue reading Aralim 49
The Eternal Emperor was standing in an area close to the centre of the Iron Palace. Amidst all the columns there was a structure in the middle, and, like many other spots under the pillar-supported roof, this one had been converted into a living area of sorts. A low dark wooden table, with a perfect varnish and decorative gold vines sprawled throughout a design around the edge, obstructed the way through the space. Around it were cushions to lounge on, but the Emperor was leaning against a column nearby when Aralim arrived. He looked up, his keen eyes examining Aralim as the Aura left the Walker in the royal presence. The book clapped closed. “It’s hard to find new material,” Tag’na murmured and tossed the book down on the table. Continue reading Aralim 48
Aralim sweated a lot that day, as he sat in the amphitheatre of the Third Court and listened to merchants discussing prices with his fellow Selected. He had slept well, at least, but now had the length of one day to determine if the royal consort, Zarru, was going to accompany Vaenuth and her caravan. If he failed, he would be back to the first step in determining a way to save her life while convincing Ovoe he had killed her. Continue reading Aralim 47
A messenger arrived at the estate on West Corid avenue midafternoon on the first day of the new month. When Aralim heard that the courier had only brought word that Vaenuth and one of her companions would be joining them for dinner, he had gone back into his reading room in concern. Her visit would be pleasant, he hoped, but he had been expecting news from Zarru. It had been a week since she had resolved to speak with the Emperor, and he had heard nothing. Continue reading Aralim 46
Aralim opened the heavy oak door into the front yard. He was on his way to meet Zarru, the prostitute that Ovoe wanted dead. There was no sign of Miresh, of course, and Aralim had made certain that this part of his plan—which he did not intend to result in a dead body—did not disturb Miresh’s training.
Someone was coming onto the property, a woman and her guards at the end of the yard, and Aralim paused in the threshold of his estate. Continue reading Aralim 45
During the hour of sunrise, Aralim and Miresh walked to the Iron Palace together. The metal construction blocked out the light as they drew near. They walked with the crowd through the open gates and past the Emperor’s Blade. As all sorts of merchants and warriors and craftspeople continued through the crowded entryway, Miresh and Aralim said a few words of parting. The young magician went to study her visions. She patted the knife buckled at her waist. She had grown an inch or two since they met a year earlier, but still the small knife fit her stature like a normal dagger. Continue reading Aralim 44
Four days after Aralim’s appointment with the Third Court, he received a courier at his home to inform him that he had been chosen to be one of the Selected. He wasn’t to start for a week, he learned. The courier looked at him in confusion when he asked if there were no training days or preparation to be done before that date approached. Continue reading Aralim 43