16
The Scroll
A blanket of clouds obscured the sun and sky when Sungui first saw the walls of Uurz. All morning she had glided through the mist and rains above the Stormlands. The green plain grew thick with villages, rivers, streams, and roads as she approached the city. Clusters of spires and domes gleamed like wet amber beyond the granite ramparts. Many of the winding streets and broad plazas were as green as the outer steppe. The city’s double gate was shut tight, its battlements thick with pennons, spears, and the winged helms of sentinels.
Sungui spotted the palace easily, a glittering hill of pinnacles, minarets, and spiked cupolas surrounded by lush walled gardens. A thousand varieties of tree and flower lined the walkways between courtyards. The Emperor’s banner fluttered atop the three highest towers.
Guards pacing the grounds rushed to inform their commander of Sungui’s approach. She had chosen her female aspect for this duty, estimating that a male envoy might enjoy less hospitality. She pulled the tube of yellow bone from the sleeve of her vestment and descended feet first toward the steps of the palace proper. A squad of spearmen in gold and green armor moved to intercept her.
When Zyung’s attendant had roused her from sleep before dawn, she had met with the Almighty on the middle deck of the Daystar. At first she thought he might chastise her for lying with Ianthe. The Panther had still slumbered in Sungui’s cabin. Yet if Ianthe’s sedition and rebellious activities were hidden from Zyung’s eyes, Ianthe herself must be as well. “One does not need to be invisible to remain unseen,” the Panther had explained, “but only to redirect the watcher’s eye. Even the eye of a God-King.”
In that dim hour the sun still lurked below the purple horizon, yet any moment it would rise up red and golden to set the world aflame. Sungui walked into the glow of Zyung’s eyes as wind rustled the main sails above them. The dreadnoughts had not yet taken to the air, the oarsmen had not yet begun to flap the great wing-sails, but when the sun arose the Holy Armada would too. Moving at full speed, Zyung’s forces would reach Uurz well before dusk.
“You will be my envoy to Uurz,” Zyung told her. “A new Emperor sits upon its throne. He is the one who saved the Giant-King from death and set free the Feathered Serpent. His brother was a simple warrior, but this one is clever. He is a sorcerer whose magic hides Uurz from my vision, even as he makes plans to resist us. I offer this new and wiser Emperor the chance to surrender and save his people from further bloodshed. Fly to him, Sungui, and give him this offer. Let him know that we will be at his gates this day.”
Sungui bowed low. “It shall be done, Holiness.”
“Do not make the mistake of Damodar,” Zyung added. “You must enter and leave Uurz without violence.”
Sungui agreed. The Almighty disappeared once more into the shelter of his great cabin.
Before departing the ship, Sungui met briefly with Ianthe. They spoke under the shelter of the Panther’s misdirection. Then Sungui flew into the west as the sun climbed over the New Holy Mountain.
A few short hours later her feet touched down on the rosemarble steps of the Uurzian palace. A thicket of spearheads surrounded her on the instant.
“I carry a message for the Emperor of Uurz,” she told the spear-men in their own language. “From Zyung the Almighty, High Lord Celestial, Heart of the Living Empire. It must be delivered in person.”
She endured the indignity of allowing them to search her for weapons. Finding nothing except the capped tube of bone, they escorted her into the Grand Hall. There sat the ruler of Uurz, an assortment of wizards and advisors gathered about his dais. They watched her intently as she walked the length of the gallery toward the throne.
Four of the eight who stood about the dais were of the Old Breed. Sungui sensed the power seething inside their flesh, like flames dancing inside shuttered lanterns. She recognized Khama the Feathered Serpent in his human aspect. Two of the Old Breed were women, one of them wearing a reptilian aspect. That meant the ageless one in the orange robe and a cobalt flame dancing on his chest must be Iardu the Shaper. Unless they had traded shapes to mislead her.
Vireon the Giant-King stood there, also wearing a human aspect. His Queen, standing pale and silent at his side, was another of the Old Breed. D’zan of Yaskatha wore the marks of battle upon his thick limbs; his invincibility in the face of overwhelming foes had impressed Sungui. The last of the figures Sungui identified was the lean Warlord of Uurz, who had led the retreat after Tyro’s demise.
As the Almighty had mentioned, this new Emperor of Uurz was obviously not a warrior. His arms and legs were thin, his young face dominated by the squinted eyes of a sage or scholar. Yet Sungui sensed his power as she approached. She bowed from the waist, not too deeply, but enough to convey courtesy and respect. This many sorcerers might pounce on her and refuse her return to Zyung. They might salt and devour her easily if they chose to do so. She was overmatched and not a little afraid of the powers assembled here.
A herald announced her presence, dubbing her “The Emissary of the Invaders” as he presented her to “Lyrilan, Son of Dairon, Lord of the Sacred Waters, Scholar King of Uurz, and Emperor of the Stormlands.”
“What is your message?” asked the Emperor without formality. His eyes were cold as onyx, deep with mysteries. He seemed to know Sungui. He looked through her as if she were a wraith gliding into his throne room from beyond the living world.
Sungui raised the bone tube and offered it to the herald. “This parchment is for the Emperor’s eyes only,” she said. The herald took it from her hand with some caution. He walked up the carpeted steps to stand beside the throne. Lyrilan nodded. The herald uncapped the tube, pulled out the rolled parchment, and began to unroll it.
As he did this, Sungui spoke directly to Lyrilan.
“Great Emperor,” she began. “Zyung the High Lord Celestial asks for your submission to his rule, your allegiance to his Living Empire, and your complete surrender in his name. In exchange, he promises an end to the bloodshed and a peaceful transition of power. Your losses are already great, while his are miniscule. His power is untold, as is the power of those who serve him. Yet he would rather rule in peace than conquer in war. Accept these terms without condition, and your city will prosper as part of his domain. If you should decline, Uurz will fall into the flames of Celestial Light. The Almighty’s Holy Armada will be at your gates before sunset. I am to return at once with your answer.”
Lyrilan took the scroll from the herald’s hands. His eyes scanned the parchment carefully while he listened to the words of Sungui. When she fell silent, he continued reading the scroll. Sungui stood wrapped in calm, the eyes of the Emperor’s curious retinue upon her. At any second a burst of sorcery might accost her, yet she must not respond to violence. Each of the messages she now delivered was of utmost importance–both the spoken and the written. To negate them with open hostility would serve neither Zyung nor herself. She endured the burning stares in silence.
Eventually the Emperor finished reading, rolled up the scroll, and dropped it into his lap. His eyes fell once more upon Sungui. Lyrilan’s gaze carried more weight than all the other stares combined. The balance of the future lay in this very moment. How would the Scholar King respond? She hoped that a lust to avenge the death of his brother would not cloud his wisdom. Yet perhaps there had been no love between the two monarchs. Provincial Kings had often murdered their siblings for power in the Outer Provinces of the Living Empire. The Kings of the Five Cities could not be wholly different.
“Tell your God-King that I reject his offer,” Lyrilan said. “Tell him also that I know him for what he truly is. Tell him that soon he will taste the bitter end that has been denied him for ages. You may go.”
Sungui bowed, turned, and once again walked the interminable length of the Grand Hall. Rows of spears gleamed between the columns of white marble on either side. At any second she expected the bite of a blade, or the searing touch of sorcery on her back. Yet she exited the hall unmolested and stood again upon the polished steps. She breathed deeply of the citrus fragrance wafting from the gardens, then rose into the sky of gray and gold.
She flew northeast to intercept the Holy Armada.
Once more dreadnoughts filled the sky. Their shadows fell across the emerald plain like rolling thunderheads. The cloudbanks were ever-present here, yet the morning rains were long gone. The sun came and went above the beating canvas wings of two thousand sky-ships.
Sungui found the Almighty in his chamber, planning battle strategies with Eshad and three others. Eshad’s concerned face betrayed nothing of his secret alliance with Ianthe. Possibly he did not even remember that alliance. Possibly none of them did besides Sungui. Ianthe would return that memory when the moment was ripe. The moment for revolution was not far away.
“What is the answer?” Zyung asked her.
Sungui shook her head. “The Emperor of Uurz follows the Jade King’s path, and vows to end the reign of His Holiness.”
Zyung sat silent for a moment in his great chair. He tossed back his head and laughed. “He will end my reign? I thought this Emperor would speak with more wisdom. Yet I did not expect him to submit gracefully. They never do.”
“As you say, Holiness.”
“Did you bring me his name?” asked Zyung.
“He is Lyrilan,” said Sungui. “Son of Dairon, Brother of Tyro.”
Zyung nodded. He dismissed the gathered Seraphim to their assigned duties.
“Let the siege of Uurz commence,” he said. “We will reach the city within the hour.”
They all bowed low and left the Almighty to his meditations.
After a word with Eshad regarding the High Seraphim’s role in the coming battle, Sungui went below decks. She found Ianthe in her own cabin, drinking blood from a jeweled bowl. Gammir lounged nearby, doing the same.
Sungui stared at the red fluid when she entered. She could smell its coppery tang.
“Another accident among the slaves,” said Ianthe. “We cannot let his diligent substance go to waste.” Sungui refused an offer to drink from Ianthe’s bowl and took a seat upon the satins of her bed.
“Well?” asked the Panther. “Did he accept the scroll? Did he read it?”
“Yes,” Sungui said. “It seems that we have an understanding.”
Ianthe and Gammir smiled at one another. Their lips were scarlet, their teeth pointed and feral. “You have done well,” said the Panther. “If Lyrilan can send Zyung to iron, he can just as well send him to salt.”
“Only for a brief moment,” said Sungui.
Ianthe’s tongue glided across her lips like the head of a red viper.
“A brief moment is all we need, child.”
Sungui considered the boldness of the move they had made this day.
“Are you certain His Holiness knows nothing of this?” she asked.
Ianthe rolled her eyes. “Again you doubt me?” Her taloned fingers glided to Sungui’s cheek, caressing it softly. Her touch was a rush of painful bliss. Sungui trembled.
“Zyung can no more see the existence of that parchment than he can see this…”
Ianthe bent her white head to kiss Sungui’s mouth. The familiar spell of heat and desire arose once more to supplant the world.
Gammir lingered this time, sipping blood and watching like a patient hound.