Chapter 27
The following morning was excruciating. I seemingly fell into my bed only to be immediately roused by my escort for court.
I might have finally enjoyed a measure of success with my discovery of the temple workshop, that strange tapestry and an excellent lead on the spindle, but if I drowsily committed some sort of error today, my victories last night would be for naught.
As it was, trouble found me either way.
“Captain al-Sirafi.”
Mitanni’s disapproving voice jerked me to attention, my head snapping up from where my chin had found refuge on my chest. Blearily, I realized that court was over and emptying out, the queen and her inner circle already gone.
“Good morrow,” I said wearily. “Apologies.”
The steward looked me up and down, his stern gaze lingering on my rumpled garments and exhausted face, and then wrinkled his nose, as though my state might be catching. “And here we thought you frowned upon our wine.”
I flushed with old shame, but also indignation. “I’ve not been drinking,” I defended myself. Queen Lab didn’t seem the type to suffer a drunk in her presence and I had little desire to end up as wool in the shearing pile I’d seen last night. “Just sleeping poorly. I’m ready to serve.”
Mitanni didn’t seem convinced. “You best be. Come.”
Straightening my clothes, I followed. My mouth felt laden with cotton, my limbs heavy. The bright daylight pierced my vision like a spear, and it was hard to find fault with Mitanni’s belief that I was hungover. I ran my hands over my face.
Their roughness caught my attention, and I glanced down. A fresh line of blisters had erupted across my left palm. Sick fear twisted my belly. Maybe it wasn’t just my evening explorations that were making me feel so poorly.
“Captain, might you hurry?” Mitanni called over his shoulder. “We will be late.”
Swallowing hard, I pressed my hand against my thigh as though not looking at it would make things better. “Yes, of course,” I replied, matching my pace to his. What else could I do?
Bother him more. “I’ve not seen my companion, Dalila, in some time,” I said as we walked. “May I ask if she’s well?”
“Quite well,” Mitanni replied. “You need not fret over her; the doctor has settled into Khatti Ugal with admirable ease. And if I may speak plainly?”
Was there an option? “I welcome your insight,” I lied.
“Her Resplendency believes you a poor influence. The doctor has great promise, opportunities that will blossom best if she is allowed to work without the distraction of her previous life.”
Her previous life? “You speak as though Dalila intends to stay in Khatti Ugal,” I said sharply.
“Yes, I suppose that I do,” he returned. “Now, come. You have a busy day.”
Dalila, what are you doing? But the person I needed to interrogate wasn’t here. Silently cursing the entire kingdom, I continued trotting after Mitanni like a whipped dog.
But only until I realized we were entering unfamiliar corridors. “This isn’t the way to the Chamber of Mysteries,” I pointed out.
“We believe you’ve spent enough time in Orinth’s company. Besides, you have another promise to fulfill for Her Resplendency.”
That sounded ominous for both Orinth and me. The last time I had been led to someplace new in Khatti Ugal, it had been the dungeons.
Surely this isn’t because of our conversation in the garden? The only one who might have overheard—and even that was a stretch of the imagination—was Pares, but he didn’t understand Arabic.
Perhaps I hadn’t been identifying enough artifacts? “I had a great deal more items to examine,” I replied. “Many that showed promise.”
“The decision has been made.” Mitanni drew to a stop in front of a pair of mahogany doors. Pushing one open, he gestured for me to enter.
Still worried about Orinth, I did so. It was another of Khatti Ugal’s endlessly pretty rooms: a sunken courtyard open to the sky, with tall walls.
As with everything in Lab’s queendom, the courtyard was as beautiful as it was strange.
It was likely intended for intimate parties, gatherings meant to mimic dining among the clouds.
Plush cushions of raw sheepskin—whose implication made me want to vomit—were scattered about a low table, as gold and round as the sun.
Scenes of birds cutting through a dawn sky were painted on one wall, a divine charioteer bringing down night in all its starry glory on the opposite, and thorned plants slunk in low pots in the corners.
Around the golden table sat a dozen Khatti Ugalans, all young men in bone-hued replicas of the loincloths many of my sailors sported.
But I barely paid attention to the young men or the lovely room. For displayed upon the table was a sight both heartrendingly familiar and dreadfully portentous.
It was a perfect replica of my Marawati.
Transfixed, I could not help but draw closer.
My ship had been re-created in miniature, the top of its mast level with my head.
Masterfully carved of teak, with woolen sails and ropes of scavenged silk thread (leave it to Khatti Ugal to make at least one detail opulent), it was gorgeously wrought, rendered by someone who must have worked off detailed sketches.
And not just sketches of the wreck—this was a Marawati nearly repaired: an impossibility given the time that had passed.
I scarcely knew what to question first. “What is this?” I managed.
The steward looked at me as though I were a half-wit. “Your vessel. Is it not obvious?”
“Yes, but-but how?” I stammered. “This would have required a careful study of my ship. A recent study. Have you been sending spies to my people?”
“We wished to be accurate,” Mitanni replied mildly. “As well as make sure work was progressing and that your crew was hale.”
“Why was I not permitted on these excursions?” I demanded. “I’ve been begging to visit my people for weeks!”
The steward shrugged. “Surely you already know what your ship looks like and that was not the point of this exercise.”
“What exercise?”
He gestured to the men. “You promised to train us in the craft of sailing, no?”
I gazed at the youths with new eyes, their clothing and hairstyles resembling my peoples’ just a bit too closely.
Ice raced down my spine. “She means to replace us.” It was not a question.
“Oh, nothing of the sort, Captain,” Mitanni said, without much conviction in his voice.
“But as you will be departing under the order of the queen, and with Her Resplendency herself aboard, she would be more comfortable with her citizens making up a portion of the crew.” He shrugged.
“Were you not already down six members? It is clearly a dangerous trade; better, then, to have others ready to step in.”
Or to replace those not loyal enough to Lab.
I stared at the silent men. I had indeed promised this when offering all sorts of oaths to convince Lab to let me keep my head after the griffin attack, but I didn’t realize how swiftly it would be arranged.
I could have laughed at how easily the pretense of local law had faded and the stricture against sailing forgotten; this was the queen’s true authority coming to the fore.
Suddenly I wondered how much her people truly knew about her.
Did they see that she was playing a role?
Did she view them as her people or as her pets?
Perhaps Lab feigned her humanity to lull new arrivals into complacence.
Or maybe this was all a game to her.
I responded carefully. “It is a nigh-fruitless endeavor. One cannot learn to sail without setting foot on a ship. And one could never replace years of experience with men so green,” I warned. “Especially if they hoped to dare as dangerous a stretch of ocean as we do.”
Mitanni appeared neither bothered nor discouraged.
“Nevertheless, surely you can begin by teaching us the names of various parts of your vessel, no? What they do and who manages them?” He must have seen the confusion in my face upon “us” for he explained without prompting, “Yes, it is the queen’s desire that I stay and learn as well.
What am I but her eyes and ears when she cannot be present? ”
For a heartbeat the gleam in his eye was a touch too familiar. Perhaps that’s exactly what he was. Who knew when I was blind to the enchantments that threaded through this place?
The door opened behind us.
“Sorry I’m late!” It was Arno, his eyes bright with interest. “Thank you so much for the honor, Captain al-Sirafi. I would be delighted to join your crew!”
Mitanni gave me an all-too-knowing smile. “Her Resplendency has heard you are fond of the boy, and Arno is quite clever, one of our brightest young minds. He will be an excellent addition.”
Her Resplendency is making sure to put one of the few friends I have in the room so that I don’t turn it over. But I forced a smile. I could play dutiful captain if it kept me alive a little bit longer.
Taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs, I slid in without banging my knee for once. “Let us begin.”
* * *
If there was a mercy, it was that my time as a tutor was short.
The steward had me go through the ship terms and I did, tossing off names and explanations with dizzying speed.
But if I’d hoped to keep the youths dazed, I feared I’d failed.
They attended their task with the same solemnity and silence as the bewitched textile workers had, speaking only when the steward would quiz them on a term.
It was unsettling and eerie, the prospect of these pale shades substituting for the coarse banter and verve of my sailors.
The only person to ask questions, to express confusion or fascination, was Arno, the young man so lively compared to his compatriots, it was as though he was the only one awake.
But I must have impressed enough, for when I asked Mitanni if I could say hello to Orinth before being returned to my chambers, he readily agreed.
“Why don’t you take Arno along?” Mitanni suggested. “In case you get lost.”