Chapter 15 The High Priest’s Judgment #6
“As are you,” Irfan said, not entirely graciously. “I remind myself that his Reverence nearly mistook our methods for each other. For that, I must apologize.”
“Please don’t apologize,” Faraj told him, venturing a gentle pat upon his shoulder. “Selfishly, I am grateful that all of you hold my heart and my well-being with such concern, to defend so fiercely.”
“Any of your brothers would have commanded me to hold my thoughts and my silence days ago.”
“Well, I never said that I wasn’t weak,” Faraj admitted.
With a soft huff, Irfan shared a glance of commiseration with Kamil.
“Your brothers would have commanded my silence, your Highness, and I would not have been so shocked to learn of their defiant sins; I would, I assume, have become resigned by now. But I also would not have served your brothers with such devotion for years. And I would not have been so concerned for their hearts’ and souls’ protection.
I have rarely met a soul as sincerely gentle as your own.
It engenders a certain sharply clawed protectiveness in those of us who treasure you. ”
“There’s another foundation-stone for you, Shai Vishal,” Kamil said. “All of us would claw someone’s face off for him.”
“Oh dear,” Faraj said, feeling a bit green at the entirely-too-plausible images.
“Agreed,” Shai Vishal said; and Faraj, feeling his face warm, didn’t quite dare to ask which of them he agreed with. “And so, what to build next?”
“If I had any other wisp of idea, I would have offered it long ago,” Irfan said, cupping both hands around his chai and studying the ripples.
“It is difficult enough to guard his Highness’ reputation, even when he has worked so very hard to remain above reproach in all his dealings.
The power-players will pry at anything. If they cannot pry at sin, they will pry at his age, his size, his inclinations, his bookishness, whatever they can grasp.
Chaos and vulnerability make the prying easier.
I have no idea how I can guard him against the type of rumors already unleashed, when two junior Priests of the Assessors take even a hint of a fallen ring as excuse to pry into his Highness’ imperfect foresights and the secret wickedness which they are certain we must conceal. ”
“They’re not alone,” Shai Vishal said, with a certain wry pragmatism. “You would be appalled to hear what the aunties expected they could blackmail you with, your Eminence, even though you also take such pains to be above reproach.”
“Wonderful,” Irfan sighed. “And I am even further beyond my limits in how to prevent the cat and the kittens from creating yet more gossip-brewing chaos in front of the priests who will gather for the Convocation, or the next diplomatic envoys.”
A soft-furred shadow padded across Faraj’s foresight, followed by six variegated little soot-smudges.
“Irfan, I’m truly very sorry for how much you are going to hate what I’m about to suggest,” he said, in a very small voice. “Truly I am.”
Irfan closed his eyes, clasped his hands in a brief silent prayer, and then braced himself. “Yes, your Highness?”
“If every cat in the haveli is known to be mine, then they are vulnerable to every blame for every mischief, and vulnerable to miscreants’ schemings against me,” Faraj said.
“So we need many more cats who are always in the haveli, not just visiting wanderers-through on occasion. So that they are not all known to be mine.”
Kamil somehow managed to keep his reaction to a whisker-twitching sneeze, but Najra made a noise like she was about to cough up a hairball of sheer glee. Shai Vishal’s beard was doing a masterful job of hiding his expression, but he passed a hand over his mouth just in case.
After a moment’s utter silence, Irfan finished the chai in his kulhad, and then said to Shai Vishal, “Your Reverence, if you are in possession of any form of sacramental wine, my soul would gratefully accept a drop of fortification.”
“I am sorry,” Faraj said. “Not that I regret the cats. But I’m very sorry the mischief will distress you so.
Even if we require collars of the cats as we would require passes of the humans who ask to be trusted with the sensitive materials of the Archives…
I cannot deny that I foresee a number of velvet-pawed disasters in the making.
If this is too much to bear, if I ask of you more embrace of chaos than your steadfast heart can endure—”
Irfan’s voice trembled. “Do you wish for me to step aside, your Highness?”
“Of course not! But if you will struggle every day the kittens wake me in the middle of the night or play havoc in the wardrobe or drag one slipper into the jharokha and gnaw the goldwork to shreds — if you will find your service a misery rather than a credit to your name, I would not command you beyond your heart’s endurance. ”
“Your brothers would have,” he murmured, still unsteady. “That is why I have served you with all my heart. That is why I would continue to serve you, if you will yet have me.”
“Irfan,” Faraj said, and dared to place a hand over his.
“You have more choices in your life than be commanded to serve or choose the least offensive among capricious royal masters. You have wealth and power in your own right, you have skill and diplomacy and any number of high-placed connections. I have changed the terms of your service with a regrettably royal high-handedness, whether or not I did so in the hope of redressing a long-standing injustice of another form. If I have asked too much, tell me.”
“Have your foresights not shown you my answer, your Highness?”
“My foresights could show me a dozen paths out of this room,” Faraj said, “but only you can tell me which of them might comfort your troubled heart.”
With a sigh, Irfan lifted Faraj’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, in an echo of the vow of service he had taken on bended knee many years ago.
“I am yours, your Highness. Now and always. If I broke my life’s vows the moment the path grew difficult, I would never have been worthy to serve.
" With a crooked smile, he added, “And when the uncollared forces of chaos have gained such advantage, whom else could you possibly entrust with keeping the oil lamps unspilled and the gnawed slippers mended and the shed fur brushed off each of your jama? Not to mention the breakable artifacts, or the scratchable woodwork, or the clawable books.”
“Oh, mention the books, at least,” Najra said.
“In any case, if I foresee those troubles even before you do, your Highness, then you have fewer distractions pulling your foresights away from the troubles of our people’s lives.
” Rubbing at his temples, Irfan said, “Your Reverence, may I ask how you can possibly manage to accomplish such works of art as your holy scriptures amid a Temple full of so many chaos-spawned agents of mischief?”
“Patiently,” Shai Vishal said, “and with a great many spare sheets of parchment, a welcome of unexpected pawprints, and a willingness to devote hours of art and labor to the cook-fires rather than to the book-binding.”
“…I rather feared such. Well.” Irfan straightened his collar as though he were facing a military inspection. “Archivist, I find I have need of secrets that may be hidden in your forbidden spellbooks.”
“You’re welcome,” Najra said, grinning. “How many?”
“More precisely targeted cat-wards that can be deployed by non-magical khadimuna, if such spells exist. Glittering distraction-charms. Possibly fire-feathers of some sort that would not kindle true flame,” Irfan said, counting on his fingertips.
“Some sort of — of anti-magnetic fur-repulsion treatment that works on parchment, papyrus, linen, and silk alike. Charmed bowls that keep raw fish and meat from going off in the heat, that the kitchens can refill without cats walking upon the cutting boards to demand their feeding. Claw-covers, to minimize the damage to the wood and the fabrics.” With a gesture of silent prayer, he said, “Perhaps your Highness’s cat could be persuaded if we call them claw-jewelry and have them cast in gold?
I have seen Bastet’s priestesses wear the like. ”
“Some of the cats will need their claws to work for their keep,” Najra reminded him, scratching notes. “The mousers in the barracks stables are well fed and happy, and I’d love to see what some good mousers make of the imp infestation in the deep stacks.”
“His Highness’ own familiars are not to be sent scrabbling after mice in the stable-straw or imps in the depths of the Archives.”
“But cat-familiars might be even more effective against imps than regular cats.”
“If we will not remove the claws these creatures have set in his Highness’ heart, then we must protect them as we would protect his Highness, because he will feel their stings.
If protecting his Highness’ heart from all that would seize advantage has now become this much more difficult, I expect we will all have our work cut out for us.
And, ya ustadha, I take it that not even you would be so bold as to send his Highness to hunt imps in your deep Archives. ”
“Oh, I already did,” Najra admitted, “but he’s either terrible at it or amazing at it, I’m not sure which? The imps all vanish the minute he sets foot in the stacks, anyway.”
Irfan stared at her for several seconds longer than was diplomatic, and then said, “Your Highness, were you aware that your Archivist had sent you imp-hunting?”
“No, see, the point is that if the kittens inherit whatever shining prophet-aura he has that scatters the little wretches in approximately a twenty yard radius—”
“The point is that you have sent his Imperial Highness Nur-ul-Shuruq Faraj al-Nadhir to go imp-hunting like a rat-catcher!”
“Imp-repelling, technically. Which is why I’m looking forward to finding out whether the kittens do it too!”
“Irfan,” Faraj said gently, “she’s winding you up on purpose.”