“He insulted His Eternal Serenity’s lead representative,” he said by way of explanation. What else could a week’s miserable imprisonment in an iron cage really be? At least the rest were wise enough not to protest. Mereruka turned to a young man whose light green skin had gone ashen. “You were his subordinate, were you not?”
He nodded, edging away.
Mereruka’s strides ate up the distance between them. Taking the man’s hand, he placed the ring within it.
“You’ve been promoted to the position of trade minister. Try not to repeat your predecessor’s errors. Now, where is my bath?”
Taisiya’s first ambassadorial experience was not at all what she’d expected. In fact, the role of ambassador wasn’t what she’d envisioned after the dressing-down she’d given the empress. As it turned out, Selene had simply become sick of the lists the praetor had drawn up for her of qualified candidates who kowtowed to her but did little else. Taisiya had won the post by dint of having been raised with so-called ‘frilly, noble etiquette’ and being unafraid to speak her mind in the poison mage’s presence. Whether or not the assignment was the empress’ strange version of punishment was anyone’s guess. With Selene, one couldn’t be certain of these things.
“That’s what you get for putting a blacksmith and a soldier in charge of foreign relations,” Vasilisa snickered in her ear.
“Quite,” Taisiya replied as she strode through the festive halls of the palace with a contingent of foreigners following at a distance.
The first to arrive had been a group of women in plain, heavy fashions and furs who claimed to be the High Council of the Witchlands of Maetzer. They’d seized Taisiya by the neck and spelled their language into her head and vice versa with a beam of light that left her with a short-lived migraine. They’d repeated it once more on both Illustra Iliana and Illustrus Strategos Marduk. Taisiya had been grateful that her first instinct had not been to strike out with a bolt of lightning.
Neither of the illustri had known when the group would arrive, nor had they prepared gifts or inquired ahead of time what kinds of accommodations the witches would find appropriate. Taisiya had been forced to step in to prevent the women from levelling curses at the lot of them. Iliana, as she insisted on being called, had thanked her profusely for entertaining the women and touring them around Nadioch. Why the inept couple had been placed in charge of the matter was beyond her. The empress obviously had no real notion of what a good diplomat needed in order to have things running smoothly.
Taisiya had sent Vasilisa off with a message to the praetor to provide her with information regarding all of the other foreigners invited to Lethe. If she got lucky, she’d have time to read over the missives Vasilisa had returned with before the next group needed to be presented to the royal couple.
As the sun reached its zenith, Taisiya curtsied before the thrones of the empress and emperor. Vasilisa stood behind her and curtsied lower.
“Emperor Belisarius, Empress Selene, I present to you the High Council of the Witchlands of Maetzer, answering your calls for diplomatic relations.”
The women bowed and faced the empress. Taisiya stepped aside. The eldest marched forward and spoke in the language of the empire with only a slight accent.
“Greetings, Empress Selene. We wish you and your treasured consort many happy days, and thank you for sending your esteemed sister to see to our welcoming.”
“Greetings, High Councillor. I am pleased you have come to Lethe. I have long been curious about the world outside our empire. But Emperor Belisarius is not a consort, he rules alongside me.”
“Surely you jest, Empress. Men are fit for battle and caregiving, but their temperaments are ill-suited for overseeing a vast and complex territory.”
“I assure you, High Councillor, we have not found that to be the case at all.” Belisarius took Selene’s bejewelled hand in his own, a dark brow raised. “In fact, a great many men are employed in the governing of Lethe.”
The witches hissed heated comments amongst themselves before turning their outrage at the empress.
“You allow men to make important decisions? Violent, stupidmen?!” one of the younger witches asked with near-comical alarm.
“I knew it! The stench of patriarchy has fouled this land. Now we know why it has always been called the Cursed Continent!” A woman with a proud bearing jutted out her chin as she sneered at the emperor, her half-shaved head exhibiting battle scars.
The eldest amongst them quieted their angry denunciations and turned to the empress, face and voice grave.
“The Witchlands of Maetzer do not make allies of patriarchal lands. You may contact us if your Empire of Mages reaches the proper state of enlightenment on these matters, but not a moment sooner.”
The witches turned their backs on the crowd and formed a circle with their hands. A strange static crackled in the air as they chanted. Some members of the court began swatting at themselves, screaming at the prickly sensation of bugs crawling over their skin. Taisiya suppressed a shiver as an unpleasant tingle scuttled down her spine. Before anyone could counteract the strange magic, the group disappeared. The royal couple and nobles in attendance burst into animated conversation at the dramatic exit.
“Well, so much for that,” Vasilisa said. “Who’s the next to arrive?”
Taisiya sighed wearily and pulled a minuscule scroll from the pocket of her robe.
“Noblewomen don’t sigh,” Vasilisa chided her with a grin.
Taisiya wanted very badly to stick out her tongue at her closest friend. Given their location, she settled for a frown.
The document she unfurled had obviously been scrawled in a hurry, the script barely legible. A headache bloomed behind her eyes. There was only one other group who had agreed to travel to Lethe. Thank the gods for that. But as she continued to read the cramped missive, her stomach knotted at the dire information. Did the empress have a death wish? Who in the hells had been in charge of contacting the foreigners?
“Fae from the Land of Maat.”
Chapter 7