Laurie said, “I have a friend who is a magician, a special friend. He did me a great kindness once, and I . . . it’s something of a repayment.”
The magician accepted this explanation and took the food. While he struggled with the burden, Laurie slipped a pair of gems into the magician’s empty belt pouch. There would be enough there to insure the magician never had to go hungry again if he lived modestly. “What is this magician’s name; perhaps I know him?”
“Milamber.”
The old man shook his head. “I have not heard of him. Where does he abide?”
Laurie looked to the west, where the sun set behind the hills. With strong emotions in his voice, he said, “Far from here, my friend. Very far from here.”
The ship beat against the waves, while the crew reefed the sails Laurie and Kasumi stood on deck watching the spires and towers of Rillanon as the ship put into harbor. “A fabulous city,” said the former Tsurani officer. “Not as large as the cities of home, but so different. All those tiny fingers of stone and the colors of the banners make it look like a city of legend.”
“Strange,” said Laurie, “Pug and I felt the same when we first saw Jamar. I suppose it is simply that they’re so different from each other.”
They stood on the open deck, cool in the breezes, but still able to feel the warmth of the sun. Both were dressed in the finest clothing they could buy in Salador, for they wished to be presentable at court and knew they had little chance of being admitted to see the King should they look like simple vagabonds.
The ship’s captain ordered the last sails taken in, and the ship slid into place alongside the docks a few moments later. Ropes were thrown, to men waiting on the quay, and the vessel was quickly made fast.
As soon as they were able, the two travelers were down the gangway and making their way through the city Rillanon, the fabled and ancient capital of the Kingdom of the Isles, stood bedecked in colors, flashing brightly in the sunlight, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere of the streets and markets. Everywhere they passed, people spoke in hushed tones, as if they feared someone might overhear them, and even the hawkers in the street stalls seemed to offer their wares halfheartedly.
It was nearly the noon hour, and without seeking rooms, they headed straight for the palace. When they reached the main gate, an officer in the purple and gold of the Royal Household Guard inquired their business.
Laurie said, “We bring messages of the greatest importance to the King, regarding the war.”
The officer considered. They were dressed well enough and didn’t appear to be the usual madmen with predictions of doom, or prophets of some nameless truth, but they were not officials of the court or army either. He decided on the course of action followed most often in the armies of all nations in all times: passing them along to a higher authority.
A guard escorted them to the office of an assistant to the Royal Chancellor. Here they were made to wait for a half hour before the assistant would see them. They entered the man’s office and were confronted by the Steward of the Royal Household, a self-important little man with a potbelly and a chronic wheeze when he spoke. “What business do you gentlemen have?” he inquired, making it clear that his estimation of them was provisional.
“We carry word to the King regarding the war,” Laurie answered.
“Oh?” he sniffed, “and why aren’t these documents or messages or whatever they are being delivered by the proper military pouch?”
Kasumi, obviously frustrated with the wait now that they were in the palace, said, “Let us speak with someone who can take us to the King.”
The Steward of the Royal Household looked outraged. “I am Baron Gray. I am the one to whom you will speak, man! And I have a good mind to have the guards toss you into the street. His Majesty cannot be bothered with every charlatan who tries to seek an audience. I am the one you must satisfy, and you have not.”
Kasumi stepped forward and gripped the man by the front of his tunic. “And I am Kasumi of the Shinzawai. My father is Kamatsu, Lord of the Shinzawai, and Warchief of the Kanazawai Clan. I will see your King!”
Lord Gray paled visibly. He frantically pulled at Kasumi’s hand and tried to speak. His shock at what he had just heard and what he felt at being handled this way raced within him. It all proved to be too much for him to speak. He nodded frantically until Kasumi released him.
Brushing at his tunic front, the man said, “The Royal Chancellor will be informed—at once.”
He walked to a door, and Laurie watched him in case he called for guards, thinking them madmen. Whatever else the man thought, Kasumi’s manner convinced him he was something quite different from anything heretofore seen. A messenger was sent, and in a few minutes an elderly man entered the room.
He simply said, “What is it?”