Chapter 14 #2
“Lord Iannis will be able to heal this better,” Garrett said, letting out a tired breath as he released my arm. “But this will keep you from bleeding out, for now.”
“Are they gone?” a coffee-skinned woman asked in a trembling voice as she came out of the pavilion to the left. Other mages were emerging as well, worried and angry looks on their faces. “What happened?”
“I was attacked,” I snapped, stalking over to the burned bodies. “Thanks a lot for the help, by the way.”
Three Lion Guards arrived on the scene—late, as far as I was concerned—and after checking on the bodies, approached us. “A thousand pardons, my lady, for allowing this to happen,” one of the three guards said in a thick accent. They all crouched down, lowering their brows to the dirt.
“How the hell did these guys manage to get onto the grounds?” Shaking my head, I ignored them and picked up the bloody knife that I’d been sliced with out of the dirt.
It had a black handle, and seemed to be made of ordinary steel, but there were runes carved along its edge, and it smelled strongly of magic.
“Let me see that,” Garrett said. I handed him the knife reluctantly, and he peered closely at the runes.
“This knife has been spelled so that whatever wounds it inflicts will not close,” he said grimly.
“Anyone cut by it would bleed out and die if not seen to by a mage healer, even a shifter like you.”
“This is not a Garaian blade,” one of the guards said, his black brows pulled together in a worried scowl. “Whoever attacked you tonight was not one of us.”
Great, I thought, looking around at the growing crowd of delegates who’d come out of their pavilions to investigate. That really narrows it down.
“I’ve half a mind to pack you up and send you off on the first ship back to Northia,” Iannis growled. We sat side by side, along with the rest of our delegation, atop a huge litter, as part of a mile-long procession toward the funeral site.
“I’m not going to tuck my tail between my legs and run away every time someone tries to kill me,” I declared. “Didn’t I survive and kill two of them? I’m too tough to be easily picked off.”
Iannis had been beside himself when he’d learned about the attack and seen my healing wound. He’d blamed himself for allowing me to go to the buffet by myself instead of getting up and coming with me, and since that moment, he had not strayed from my side for an instant.
“You could have been killed.” Iannis gently pushed the sleeve of my white robe up and traced the inside of my arm.
He’d healed it right away, and there was nothing left, not even the trace of a scar.
The knife that had inflicted the wound was in the custody of the Lion Guard, much to my annoyance, but this wasn’t my home turf and there was nothing I could do.
Hopefully, they had some magical method to trace the owner.
“But I wasn’t,” I soothed Iannis. “And now that the guards are hyper-vigilant, I doubt the assassins would dare to attack again.” The guards had assured me that they were looking into the assassination attempt, and, in the meantime, they would put extra guards outside our pavilion.
“That is going to pose a bit of a problem when we try to sneak out tonight.”
“I’m not concerned about that,” Iannis said.
The litter gently bobbed beneath us as the dozens of muscular servants carried us.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them—they didn’t even have the benefit of the baldachin that covered our litter and shielded us from the hot summer sun.
“It is not good enough for us to leave this investigation to the Lion Guard. We must find out which delegation is responsible for this attack.”
“Do you think it’s the Castalians?” I bit my lip. Haman had seemed friendly enough, but Isana’s reaction had been less welcoming. Could she have ordered the attack?
“They are my main suspects,” Iannis said grimly.
“Haman didn’t act as though he wished you ill, but we mages are very good at hiding our emotions.
Even if it wasn’t him, one of his children may have orchestrated the attempt on your life.
They stand to lose just as much, if not more, than Haman himself, should your connection to their family be revealed. ”
I held back a sigh, not wanting to draw the attention of the Minister, who sat behind me, or any of the others.
He had questioned me at length about the incident, though he had been more worried that this was an attack against the Northian delegation rather than a personal one on me.
Garrett and Solar had argued that perhaps it was my shifter heritage that had prompted the attack—prejudice was alive and well in Recca, stronger in some countries than others.
But the Minister had pointed out that if he was going to attack a shifter, he would have made sure the weapons were silver, and none of the ones found at the attack site had been.
He surmised that the attackers either did not know enough about shifter weaknesses, or that they were just attacking Northian delegates in general.
“I guess it’s a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow, then,” I finally said. “The assassin, whoever he is, won’t be able to follow us to Leniang Port.”
“True, but we do have to come back here afterward, and there is still the rest of the day and this evening to look forward to.” Iannis’s voice darkened.
“I doubt they will try a physical attack again so soon, not with the guard on high alert. But that does not mean they will not try more subtle methods. I will be checking all food and drink that is given to you from now on, for the duration of our stay.”
I frowned. “Don’t you think that will insult our hosts?”
“If they take offense, then so be it. That is a price I am willing to pay for your safety.”
My heart warmed, and I wanted to take his face between my hands and kiss him. But that would be extremely inappropriate during a solemn funeral procession, so I settled for squeezing his hand instead.
During the funeral, I was thankful that Iannis and I could converse by mindspeak, as the next sixteen hours stretched interminably with much sitting, standing, and waiting.
We had to listen to recitations of the late Mage-Emperors distinguished lineage and his memorable deeds, in Garaian, and there was no way I could have understood anything without Iannis’s explanations.
Not that the recitations were very interesting even when he did translate them.
I learned more about Garaian history than I ever wanted to, and the never-ending speeches nearly put me to sleep.
The only reason I stayed awake was Iannis, who entertained me with some irreverent anecdotes of the Emperor’s past that the orators conveniently left out.
After the recitation, a troupe of masked actors came out to perform notable scenes from the Emperor’s life.
It was difficult to tell which of them were supposed to be male or female, especially since all the parts were played by men, and their voices sounded unnaturally high.
After the performance, five long poems chosen out of more than ten thousand submitted by the populace were solemnly read out, each celebrating a different aspect of the dead Mage-Emperor’s long rule.
By the time it was over, I was thoroughly sick of all the fervent praise.
If I never again heard about the great Emperor’s exploits, it would be too soon.
After the play, we finally got to the actual burial part of the ceremony.
The foreign guests, and a much larger number of distinguished Garaian mages and officials, all dressed in white silk just as we were, were arranged around a large oblong pit in the ground, on one end of which a structure like a temple had been erected.
In this gigantic hole, the sarcophagus of the late Mage Emperor was placed and surrounded by statues of his family, his guard, his favorite concubines, his pets and horses, and enough treasure to feed a large Garaian city for several lifetimes.
Ceremonial gifts from all the guests and delegations were also included.
It seemed a terrible waste to bury priceless books, weapons, and jewels with a dead man who had no use for them any longer, and I knew there were thieves who would think the same.
This tomb would have to be guarded very well, once it was closed.
“In the past…” Iannis observed to me in mindspeak. “Before the First Mage’s influence made itself felt in Garai, they did not bury statues, but the real people and animals. They used to kill several hundred or more whenever an Emperor died.”
I suppressed a shiver at that, keeping my face carefully blank as the Emperor was finally buried.
This funeral was creepy enough without adding extra bodies to it, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
After all, the sooner we left this ceremony behind, the sooner we could get on with our real mission.