Chapter 17
17
K ANTHE LOWERED THE long-stemmed pipe from his lips and stifled a cough. “Oof, this leaf is strong,” he said. “My heart is pounding in my throat. What’s in it?”
Rami smiled, showing the full whiteness of his teeth. “Tabakroot, snakeweed, and a pinch of ramblefoot.”
Kanthe rested the pipe on his knee, careful to keep any ash from his polished boots. In fresh trousers and an untied shirt, he felt overheated and overdressed on the private balcony.
Rami wore only a loosely belted robe, showing the swatch of hair across his chest that climbed his throat and formed a close-cropped beard that looked as if it had been painted in place. The Klashean prince had also sought a bath after the trying day and remained barefooted. The curls of his hair had dried disheveled, adding a certain rakish charm to the young man.
Kanthe found it hard not to keep Pratik’s earlier suggestion out of his head, about bedding Rami. Especially when the Klashean prince spent considerable time lounging in his cushioned chair, with one leg up, revealing far too much of what lay under his robe. Still, even with the lack of attire, Rami showed no attempt to seduce Kanthe.
Instead, after Kanthe had arrived here, the two had shared a small meal of braised duck and spiced beans and a bottle of Aailish wine each. Afterward, they had retired to the balcony overlooking the city to smoke and perhaps finally broach the subject for Kanthe’s visit.
Rami had refused to talk about the wedding while eating, deeming it inappropriate conversation. Klashean custom frowned upon discussing anything beyond the trivial while breaking bread. Instead, they had talked animatedly about hunting—an affinity they both shared. They even shared stories of their childhood, finding much in common. Both were sons who had no hope of ever sitting on the throne, whose only expectations were to bolster their more illustrious counterparts. In Rami’s case, that was his eldest brother by a decade, Prince Jubayr.
Rami took a deep draught from his pipe, holding it in for an impossibly long time, then steamed it out of both nostrils. He pointed the pipe’s glowing bowl at the swirling smoke. “All our fine leaf is grown from the royal farms out in the surrounding M’venlands. We should go there sometime. It is quite striking when all the fields are in bloom.”
Kanthe took this opportunity to broach the subject of his visit. “Maybe we could stop there during the royal procession following my wedding.”
“Indeed.” Rami lifted a brow. “Does that mean I’m invited to go along? My sister may have a say in the matter.”
Kanthe muttered as he took another tentative draw on his pipe, “I think if Aalia had any say, she’d call off this wedding.”
Rami smiled. “She’d never go against my father’s wishes. Your nuptials are too important to the empire. Both now and in the future, especially once she bears you a son.”
“Ah, someone who could claim by blood the throne of Hálendii.” Kanthe understood the situation all too well. “Still, that iron in the fire might take forever to heat, if it ever does. A war must be won, and a certain brother set aside.”
Rami shrugged. “My father strategizes beyond the moment. Like ancient Kysalimri itself, our people abide and are ever patient. Any stratagem, like our finest wine, is best appreciated when it has time to properly age. Nothing should be rushed.”
Rami’s gaze lingered a touch too long on Kanthe, silently hinting that the Klashean prince was willing to wait for what he wanted, too.
Kanthe turned away and cleared his throat. “Speaking of rushing. Plainly the situation between kingdom and empire is about to become more dire. I see the emperor is already mobilizing his own forces.”
Kanthe pointed beyond the balcony railing. The breadth of Kysalimri—a forest of marble towers and spires, some topped in gold—sprawled to the horizon, shining under a full moon and aglow from the low-cast sun. It was breathtaking and intimidating in equal measures. It appeared to have no end. It was as if the city were the world, and the world were this city.
Hovering over it all, a fleet of four ponderous warships slowly moved across the city, carried aloft by their giant gasbags. They dwarfed anything in the Hálendiian forces. The ships themselves were armored in drab draft-iron, but even at this distance, the rows of ballistas and cannons glinted in the low sun of midwinter. And if that weren’t enough, each ship was flanked by dozens of sharklike hunterskiffs and fox-nosed swyftships. The entire fleet headed north, ready to defend the coastline after the kingdom’s attack. Perhaps they’d even sail through the smoky Breath of the Urth to reach the southern shores of Hálendii and retaliate in kind.
“War will soon be upon us,” Kanthe continued. “Perhaps it might be best to firm those ties that will bind our two lands together sooner rather than later. Come the winter’s solstice, it may be too late.”
Rami shifted to lean on a shoulder, facing him more directly. “You wish to hasten your marriage to my sister?” The Klashean prince must have read the hesitation in Kanthe’s expression and pressed the matter. “Is this something you truly desire?”
“It… it could best serve everyone.”
Rami’s eyes narrowed. “Does that include you?”
Kanthe knew better than to lie to his friend.
Rami leaned back with a heavy sigh. “Is that why you came here this Eventoll? To petition me for this cause?”
“Yes,” Kanthe answered bluntly. “But that does not mean I don’t value our friendship—our future kinship. But I know my father too well. He must’ve learned of the coming wedding, and he’ll set fire to all the Crown to stop it. But if I’m already married, it will take the winds from his sails.”
“Or it may make him even angrier.”
“True. But if there’s even a chance to stop an all-out war, we must attempt it. To change the nuptials is a simple act that could be rewarded with a quelling of hostilities. At least for a time. A spell long enough perhaps for diplomacy to work.”
Rami took another long draw on his pipe, exhaling slowly before speaking. “You say you know your father well. As I do mine. The emperor is like a mountain, not easy to move. Once he has stated his will, it will prove difficult to shift off that date.”
“The winter solstice…”
“Let me confide in you.” Rami’s eyes found Kanthe’s again. “Not only is that day auspicious to my people, the emperor consulted with the Augury of Qazen, a prophetic wyzard who has my father’s ear, more so than any of his thirty-three Chaaen. He holds much sway over the emperor.”
“I know someone like that.” Kanthe gritted his teeth, picturing Shrive Wryth, a corrupt Iflelen swine who forever whispered in his own father’s ear.
“I suspect the reason the emperor seldom leaves the palace citadel is because of a warning from the Augury, though I can’t prove it or dismiss it.” Rami scowled deeply. “It was also the Augury who selected the date of your nuptials.”
Kanthe sat back with a groan. “So, Emperor Haeshan will never budge.”
“Like the stubbornest ox.”
Kanthe sagged, mostly disappointed, but also slightly relieved. “Thank you, Rami, for sharing this confidence.”
“You are most welcome, my friend. But I must ask the smallest of favors in return.”
Kanthe swallowed hard, knowing what was about to be requested of him. He tried not to glance toward the bedchamber door, struggling to think of a gentle way to dissuade this payment.
But that was not Rami’s intent.
“I shared a truth,” the Klashean prince said, “now I must ask for one in return.”
Kanthe exhaled with relief. “Anything.”
Rami sat up, turned, and faced Kanthe. “ Why did you all come here? You claimed your self-exile was to escape persecution for traitorous acts that were falsely laid at your feet.”
Kanthe’s limbs went cold. He came close to dropping the pipe and had to clench it harder. A few bits of glowing ash fell from the pipe’s cup. None of them had shared the true reason why their group had ended up here. Apocalyptic portents were rarely welcome, especially during times of war. That had been proven true back in Hálendii, where all their attempted warnings only led to bloodshed and death.
Rami leaned closer. “The reason you truly came here?” His eyes glowed brightly, shining with a sharp cunning that he had kept hidden until now. “What does it have to do with the moon?”