The Ambassador removed his face covering, revealing a gaunt, bearded visage of advancing years, his mouth set in a half-smile. “Your Royal Majesty, Her Most Imperial Majesty, blessings upon her name, sends greetings to her brother, Isles.” Dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, “I would have chosen to make a less formal entrance, Majesty, but . . .” He shrugged, with a faint toss of his head toward the Keshian Master of Ceremonies, indicating he had no control over such matters. “The man’s a tyrant.”
Lyam grinned. “We return warm greetings to Great Kesh. May she always prosper and her bounty increase.”
The Ambassador inclined his head in thanks. “If it pleases Your Majesty, may I present my companions?” Lyam nodded slightly, and the Keshian indicated the leftmost man. “This worthy is my senior aide and adviser, Lord Kamal Mishwa Daoud-Khan, Shereef of the Benni-Tular. And these other are my sons, Shandon and Jehansuz, Shereefs of the Benni-Sherin and also my personal bodyguards.”
“We are pleased you could join us, my lords,” said Lyam.
As Master deLacy attempted to restore some order to the milling nobles, another commotion broke out along a different street leading to the market square. The King and Prince turned away from the Master of Ceremonies and deLacy’s hand went up. “What now?” the old man said aloud, then quickly regained his nearly vanished poise.
A drumming more furious than the Keshians’ could be heard as brightly colored figures came into view. Prancing horses led a parade of soldiers in green. But each wore a shield of vivid hue upon his arm with strange blazons depicted. Loud pipes played a polytonal melody, alien but bright and infectious in rhythm. Soon many of the citizens of Krondor had taken up the beat with hand clapping or impromptu dancing around the edge of the square.
The first rider came before the palace and his banner blew out in the wind. Arutha laughed and slapped Lyam upon the shoulder. “It’s Vandros of Yabon, and Kasumi’s Tsurani garrison from LaMut.” Then marching foot soldiers came into view, and they could be heard singing loudly.
When the Tsurani garrison of LaMut had come to stand before the Keshians, they halted. Martin observed, “Look at them, eyeing one another like tomcats. I warrant each side would love an excuse to test the other.”
“Not in my city,” said Arutha, obviously not finding the notion amusing.
Lyam laughed. “Well, it would be a show. Ho! Vandros!”
The Duke of Yabon rode up and dismounted. He hurried up the stairs and bowed. “I beg forgiveness for being tardy, Majesty. We were inconvenienced on the road. We chanced upon a band of goblins raiding south of Zun.”
“How many in the band?” asked Lyam.
“No more than two hundred.”
Arutha said, “ ‘Inconvenienced’ he calls it. Vandros, you’ve been with the Tsurani too long.”
Lyam laughed. “Where is the Earl Kasumi?”
“He comes now, Majesty.” Carriages could be seen entering the square as he spoke.
Arutha took aside the Duke of Yabon and said, “Tell your men to billet with the city garrison, Vandros. I want them close. When you have them bedded down, come to my quarters and bring along Brucal and Kasumi.”
Vandros caught the serious tone and said, “As soon as the men are billeted, Highness.”
The carriages from Yabon were halted before the stairs and Lord Brucal, Duchess Felinah, Countess Megan, and their ladies-in-waiting got out. Earl Kasumi, formerly a Force Commander in the Tsurani army during the Riftwar, dismounted his horse and walked quickly up the stairs. He bowed before Lyam and Arutha. Vandros quickly presented his party, and Lyam said, “Unless that pirate the King of Queg is going to arrive in a war galley pulled by a thousand little sea horses, we shall retire.” With a laugh he swept past the near-distraught Master of Ceremonies deLacy, who was vainly trying to restore order in the King’s procession.
Jimmy hung back, for while he had seen an occasional Keshian merchant, he’d never seen a dog soldier or a Tsurani. For all his worldly ways, outside the usual matters of the city and its life he was still a fifteen-year-old boy.
Kasumi’s undercommander was giving orders for the billeting of his men, and the Keshian captain was doing the same. Jimmy sat quietly on the stairs, wiggling his toes to stretch his boots. He stared at the colorful Keshians for a few minutes, then watched the Tsurani as they mustered to depart the square. Both were certainly exotic, and if Jimmy could judge, both looked equally fierce.
Jimmy was about to leave when something strange behind the Keshians caught his eye. He tried to decide what it was, but couldn’t. Some odd itch made him walk down the stairs until he was near the Keshians, all still at parade rest. Then he saw what had caused him to feel something was out of the ordinary. Retreating into the crowd behind the Keshians was a man Jimmy had thought to be dead. Jimmy was rocked to the soul of his being, unable to move, for he had seen Laughing Jack vanish into the press.