Андрей Кочетков
The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1
After wandering around the empty courtyard a few more minutes, he decided to find the palace square. “They couldn’t have left without me! I’m the interpreter! And why didn’t anyone think to wake me?” Uni had never been in the barracks before, so it took him a while to find his way out of the labyrinth of paths and outbuildings. There was no one to ask directions from, so he ran on, hounded by his horror of what could have caused that heavy silence.
Finally, he found it. Like a pebble from a slingshot, Uni ran out into the palace square, but then something stopped him. He felt like he had run into an invisible wall. He put his hands out to protect himself from what he saw. The palace square was empty – there were no people anywhere and no signs that a ceremony had been held. “How could they…so fast…everyone’s gone…and it’s all been cleaned up!” And there wasn’t a soul around for him to ask. “Great Sun, am I asleep? What a stupid nightmare!” Uni pinched his left shoulder. It hurt. “Is it possible that all of this is really happening?”
If the imperial falcons had swung low in the blue, cloudless sky just then, they would have observed a strange scene: a small, disheveled man wearing nothing but his nightclothes was racing around the palace courtyard, running in and out of buildings like a beetle lost in a child’s maze. Tripping over his own feet in exhaustion, he ran through the palace gates, which stood open and unguarded. What he found outside the gates was even more shocking: the whole enormous city was empty, abandoned by its residents and left in awful, deep silence.
It suddenly dawned on Uni that he would never be able to go down every street looking for someone to explain what had happened. Even if he tried, he would eventually pass out on the hot stones, and no one would come to his aid because there was no one left. He was overcome by a terrible need to break the awful silence, a silence that swallowed up even the rustling of the leaves on the trees, the wind whistling between buildings, the waves on the Fela at high tide, and hundreds of other sounds that make up the background of life in a big city that has suddenly been emptied of its residents.
Uni stopped. He spread his arms and took a deep breath that filled his lungs. “When was the last time I breathed deeply?” he wondered. He wanted to yell as loud as he could, but the cold, dark, alien quiet seeped into his lungs along with the air. It filled him like an empty vessel. It stopped his heart from beating loudly and his lungs from filling and emptying noisily. Uni’s eyes widened in primal fear. He felt he was dissolving in the same sticky, invisible cotton wool that had already drowned out the cries of the palanquin bearers, the animated conversations of the merchants, the ringing laughter of women flirting with guards, and the enchanting sounds of the musical fountains that were a source of such wonder to visitors from the provinces.
Feeling wretched, Uni looked on the city’s empty streets as if he expected to disappear as well at any time. Just then, he caught sight of the dark silhouette of a person wavering in the noonday sun off to his right. “Stop! Stop! I beg you!” he cried, surprised by the sound of his own voice. He shook off whatever had been holding him and raced after the shadow as if the stranger held Uni’s own lifeline in his hand.
He sprinted around the corner of a red-brick shop with a sign featuring a crudely drawn baker with rosy cheeks and came to a screeching halt. Never in his entire life had he seen a woman with such beautiful, expressive eyes.
Imagine a deep, clear lake with crystal blue water, its shores encircled by an untouched forest that hides it from the eyes of the uninvited. You are making your way with difficulty through the thick woods, all hope of finding the right path gone, when suddenly you step through the trees and see the lake. Calm, quiet, and clear. Beautiful as only something that is truly ancient and truly young can be. In one breath, you realize that you don’t have to keep looking for your path, because you’ve come unexpectedly to its end and the thing you were searching for is right there in front of you.
That is an approximation of what Uni felt. The girl’s hair – the color of a wheat field at sunset – fell freely over her shoulders, shining around her with a golden halo. Her whole being seemed to have been formed from a wellspring of warmth and softness, and Uni felt like he had come face to face with a sunny breeze, as if the Heavenly Deity had run a hand over his head, leaving behind a pleasant wave of joy that reverberated throughout his body. In an instant, he forgot all about his troubles and the fact that he had missed an important event. All he wanted was to stand where he was for one more instant and savor the new color and flavor that his life had unexpectedly acquired.
No one knows how long the feeling lasted. It might have been the time that it took his heart to beat once, or it might have been an eternity. Time means nothing where beauty and harmony are at their peak and the order of all things has achieved perfection. The time for Uni to join that new world, unfortunately, had not yet come. The lovely stranger smiled with exquisite gentleness and leaned her head to one side, as if asking him to follow her. Under her spell, Uni obeyed. He forgot all about himself and where he was going, simply following her the way a person tries to follow a dream that he knows will be forgotten as soon as he awakes. The stranger floated in front of him with the posture of a young pine tree and a waist that begged to be encircled by his palms.
It was only now that Uni noticed the girl’s strange garment: halfway between a robe and a dress, it was dark blue, with sleeves that trailed almost to the ground. He wanted to see her face again, but her back was just as interesting. Uni remembered the backs he had seen before – bent and tired, fat and indifferent, or hard and unassailable, like closed doors. The girl’s back was different – kind, familiar and lovely, as if its owner was thinking about Uni all the time and might at any minute turn and bestow a shining smile on him.
He had no idea how long they walked, him following blindly, when suddenly he saw the dock and the ambassador’s ship and the Emperor in his most impressive robe. The wondrous magic did not last long. Suddenly, Uni found himself in a swirling crowd. It shattered the silence that had until this point filled his ears. He was afraid, more afraid than he had ever been in his life. What could be more horrible than the fear of losing someone dear, someone he felt was a part of his own soul? Uni helplessly looked for a way out of the crowd. He pushed people away from him, but the mass of bodies swirled tighter and tighter around him, lazily enjoying the defenselessness of his tiny boat in the churning vortex of the human crowd. The girl was gone, as if swallowed up by the crowd, and those precious moments of unforgettable joy dissolved without a trace in the hideous, drab gray of everyday life. Uni was struck by the realization that he no longer wanted any of the things he thought he wanted. The ray of light that had pierced his soul was dearer to him than anything else in the world, and he could not bear the thought of losing it. Like a wounded animal, he leaped over the people’s heads, over the heads of the horrible, stupid crowd. They did not hate or despise him, they simply never noticed him, as if he had no right to exist. But now, thousands of hands reached for him, grabbing his clothes, pulling him back, and a frightening choir of voices rose up from somewhere in this distance: “Uni, Uni!” Cold iron bands wrapped around his body. Uni struggled. He fought for his life, and…
“Uni? Are you still alive? You’ve been asleep for ages!” Vordius smiled down at him.
There was a fatherly note in his voice. Standing next to him, Sevelia Virando seemed to feel a threat to her parental monopoly, or perhaps she was offended by the thought that anyone would laugh at her poor, sick baby. “Vordius, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” she spluttered. “He’s still so weak. How many times have I told you that you shouldn’t let him drink with you? And then you tried to keep me away from him. He’s my precious boy.” She looked down at her son and smiled softly. “Uni, my little boy, how do you feel? Did you sleep well? Your stomach doesn’t hurt, does it?” When she asked this, her face took on a look of suffering that was almost comical. “Whoever came up with the idea of holding ceremonies in the early morning. People need their sleep!”
“It’s an eminently reasonable custom, Emel Virando,” came Dag Vandey’s voice, smooth but melancholic. “The Deity sits on his throne at noon, so we conduct our affairs in the morning and rest at midday.”
Sevelia turned on him. “Just look at you, as healthy as a herd of cows while my boy lies here barely alive. Whoever will take care of him in that foreign land?” she began to cry.
Uni glared at his mother, but in his heart he was secretly glad to see her. “Mother, how good it is to see you,” he smiled as he worked himself out of her embrace and reached for his robe. “How did you gain entrance to the palace grounds?”
Vordius grinned. “Close relatives are always allowed in when a delegation is leaving. I’m coming with you, too, but only as far as the square. I’m not important enough to stand next to you once the ceremony starts,” he joked.
“Of course they let your mother in,” Sevelia said proudly. “Now, here is your robe. Get dressed. Don’t worry about your things. I’ve already packed them all, and the servants will put them on the ship. I bought you a new bag with an icon of Erezney, the patron saint of wanderers, and a blue ribbon symbolizing our blue river. I put some food from home in the bag so you can at least eat well the first few days. Don’t go around eating just anything, Uni. And don’t drink. I don’t want you touching wine at all.” She looked up at the ceiling. “What am I supposed to do with you?” She had cried all night and, even though she had promised herself she would not cry in front of her son, she couldn’t keep from uttering the thoughts that worried her. “I took your things to the Cathedral of the Sun to have them blessed. May our Lord keep you!” These last words were whispered.
“That’s enough, Mother. I’ll be fine, as long as you don’t worry about me.” Uni felt a strange surge of energy, but at the same time, everything around him seemed unreal: the colors were too bright, and the shapes were exaggerated. He threw on his robe and, avoiding his mother’s loving hands, smoothed out its deep folds that fell almost to his heels. Vordius stuck his chin out and nodded in approval.
“Point me toward the ceremony!” Now that he was ready, Uni wanted to occupy his mind with government affairs.
“Your hair! What about your hair?” Sevelia exclaimed. “We forgot about it!”
“To the demons of darkness with my hair!” Uni replied. “Vordius, let’s go. You, too, Mother. I’m off on a grand adventure today,” and he gestured theatrically toward the door.
Outside, they were met by Sorgius and Luvia.
“I didn’t know I had so many close relatives,” Uni said. Vordius just smiled.
“Aren’t you happy to see me, you old drunk?” winked Sorgius as he threw an arm around Uni’s shoulder.
Luvia was truly glad to see him. “How are you feeling?” she asked shyly.
“I’m fine!” Uni told her happily. “Thanks to you and your father for taking care of me!”
“You can tell him yourself,” Luvia said with a smile as Vordius took her by the hand. “He is allowed to be here because of his rank,” she told Uni.
“I doubt you’ll see him,” Sorgius remarked patronizingly as he tried to remove an eyelash from his eye. “Each person at the palace has, what was it called? ‘An assigned place to be and time to speak.’ And you’ll be standing in different places,” the short Vuravian explained to his friends. “Uni, you go over there,” and he waved up and to the right.
Uni looked and saw two well-dressed men greeting guests as they came up from the Cathedral of Light to the square in front of the Imperial Residence, which was cordoned off by guardsmen shining in gold.
“The rest of us have to go this way,” Sorgius added. “We’ll be waving at you. Don’t miss it.”
Is this it? Uni felt agitated. He couldn’t wait to be there on the square. He turned to his friends with an embarrassed smile. Vordius grinned. There was nothing in his sincerely joyful eyes that could have aroused the least suspicion. Drawing Uni into an embrace, he hugged him until his friend thought his ribs would break.
“Take care of yourself, brother,” he whispered with unexpected warmth. “I’ll find whoever it was that tried to hurt you. They won’t get far, you know me.”
“Please don’t, Vordius!” Uni was truly afraid for his friend, knowing his hot temper and his tendency to decide problems by the most direct means. “You told me that there were important people behind it. I think I may know who they are.”
“What?” Vordius took a step back in surprise. “You know who ordered the assassination and said nothing this whole time?”
“I didn’t exactly say nothing,” Uni kept his voice down so his mother wouldn’t hear too much. Vordius nodded and took him by the elbow. Together, they went away from their group into the crowd, where the noise provided them something like privacy. “And second, the idea literally just came to me.”
“Don’t keep me waiting!”
“Digenius Forsey,” the young diplomat sighed. He was dead-set against the delegation. But that’s just a guess. Anyone with a financial interest against ties with Virilan could be behind it,” he gestured around at the crowd.
“That dried fish? And he calls himself a tutor!”
“Don’t, Vordius. Please. Everything will quiet down once I’m gone. If you stir things up, it will be worse for everyone. You wouldn’t go up against a man like that, would you?”
“We’ll see about that! He’s been a thorn in our side long enough.”
“In whose side?”
“The guards. The army. And some other people.”
“Vordius!”
“I don’t care! Someone tried to kill my best friend. Whoever it was, I’ll drag them out into the open!”
Uni started to feel ill again. “Listen, this is no joke…”
“Vordius!” Sevelia and Uni’s other friends were tired of waiting for the private conversation to end.
“One moment!” Vordius raised a finger and smiled. Then he put his mouth close to Uni’s ear. “Remember one thing, brother. My last piece of advice is this: don’t ever let anyone get away with anything. Ever!”
Their friends surrounded them, and there was no more time to talk.
Feeling weak, Uni clenched his fists and looked around at his friends’ faces. He didn’t even feel Luvia’s kiss, light as a breeze on his right cheek. Dag Vandey finally approached. Doing his best to look happy for his friend, he slapped the new interpreter on the shoulder and told him to make them all proud. Uni recalled Vandey’s talk about reforming society: how pale and unreal it seemed on a day like this one!
Sorgius, smiling like a friendly innkeeper, reached out and gripped Uni’s shoulder with a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. “Find yourself a nice girl,” he said quietly.
At the word “girl,” Uni shuddered. He had forgotten about the dream from that morning, but now it came roaring back in all of its excitement and beauty. That memory made him suddenly reflective, and he did a poor job of saying farewell to his mother as she embraced him and looked for even a small sign that he was sad to part with her.
“Goodbye, Mother. I hope you will be well,” was all he could manage. Sevelia kissed him three times, according to custom, and turned away, hiding the tears in her eyes with her brown head covering.
Uni turned to his friends and put his right hand over his heart. He smiled self-consciously and, shaking slightly with the feeling that something big and important was about to happen, turned and strode toward the palace, where the richest and most powerful men in the empire were waiting impatiently.
“Uni, I mean, Unizel Virando, interpreter,” he stated to the greeter in white. The man glanced up at him, and Uni’s insides quaked. I bet I’m in trouble. I should have been here earlier, he thought in shame. The greeter gestured to another man to show Uni the way and then promptly forgot about both of them. Uni’s guide was short, but he walked quickly, making it hard to follow him through the crowd. Instead of preparing himself mentally for what would come next, Uni was focused on not losing sight of his guide.
When they reached the line of guards, Uni shuddered again: he didn’t have any proof of his role in the delegation, and his stomach started to slide toward his heels. However, the imposing guards parted before him without a word, and Uni and his guide entered the square. The crowd inside the square was just as thick, but the people here stood in two neat rectangles, all facing the palace’s grand staircase. There was a walkway between the rectangles, and here Uni’s guide handed him over to another short man in a white robe.
“How many of these little guides are there?” the young diplomat wondered. His new guide quickly led him down the walkway toward the palace, and all the nobles in their bright robes stared at him as if he were being led down the gauntlet.
This torture ended when the sea of bodies opened and Uni caught sight of the column of Norius the Founder, which portrayed the leaders of the eleven kingdoms raising their hands to hail the first Herandian Emperor, who held his palms up in praise of the Sun. There was a small group of people standing around the base of the column, and Uni suspected they might be the delegation. He was right. His guide led him to yet another greeter, who turned out – to Uni’s horror – to be the ambassador’s personal secretary, Zimius Groki.
That dirty fraud, he exclaimed to himself, keeping his eyes off to one side as if he didn’t see his recent adversary. You’re the tool now, aren’t you?
Meanwhile, his guide opened a scroll and read from it, “Enel Unizel Virando, interpreter,” and waited for the secretary to respond. Groki turned to Uni with a look of skepticism and suspicion, as if he were about to snap at the guide, “Who did you bring up here, fool?”
Uni had steeled himself to be afraid of nothing, but now his heart hung over an abyss and goosebumps broke out on his skin. He knew that it was silly to be scared and that he didn’t need to prove or explain anything, but he couldn’t stop his stomach from quivering. A drop of sweat ran from his neck down his back. Groki leaned forward and gave a slight nod. The guide turned and was gone, leaving Uni alone with a man who was clearly his enemy.
“If you’re late again, we will leave you to bake in the desert!” Groki spat at him.
Uni nodded, trying to remember if there were any deserts in Virilan and what, now that he thought of it, the landscape and weather conditions were like. His place – at the far-left in the last row – spoke to his lowly status. The men standing near him turned to look at him before turning away in indifference. In the center of the front row, Uni spied Sanery’s extraordinary ears. The ambassador had heard his name announced and turned around to give him a slight but friendly smile. Uni was embarrassed, but reflected that a smile was better than nothing. The rest of the delegation ignored him, to his relief. The young diplomat stared at the men around him and soaked up the atmosphere of overblown formality.
The palace square was situated between the Emperor’s Residence, where the Great Lord lived, and the Cathedral of Light, which was the Empire’s most important religious building. Educated Herandians loved to argue about the proper relationship between religious and secular authority. On the one hand, the Empire’s subjects were exceedingly religious, referring to the Heavenly Deity early and often, in everything from market gossip to official documents. On the other hand, most people’s beliefs went no deeper than these words and the occasional attendance at a ritual. Judging by the prominent works of imperial art, the Empire was founded with the protection of the Heavenly Deity, and the Emperor was merely his steward. As the official imperial terminology put it, he was a servant like all the other subjects. In reality, however, the Empire’s religious leaders had so little influence on government matters that they were not considered a political force. Priests of the Sun were content with their many privileges and high salaries (paid each year by the treasury), and they rarely raised their voices unless the issue concerned their own internal affairs, which were always in a foul tangle.
Some people saw this as a sign of the inherent practicality of Herandians, while others complained that the government had drawn too close to the Cult of the Sun and strangled it in its embrace. The Emperor generally played the main role in the most important religious rites throughout the year, but he led the government on the basis of the law, the bureaucracy, and the army, not as a high priest, as was the custom in Mustobrim.
The Cathedral of Light reflected the fate of the religion underlying it. Built of granite and marble under Norius to host all manner of government ceremonies, it was soon competing with the imperial bureaucracy and the Great Lord’s Chambers. By the time of Uni’s story, delegations always left from the Palace Square, which represented a balance between the religious and secular centers of power. Coronations, funerals, and rituals associated with the solar cycle were still held in the Cathedral, so the priests still felt very much in the game. They would have retained the right to send off delegations, too, if it weren’t for an irritating footnote in the law governing official ceremonies that allowed diplomatic missions to leave from the Palace Square, provided that the weather was fine, because it was a shorter walk from the square to the river dock. The footnote was criticized by many for stooping to mention the weather and the walking distance, but it remained in force nonetheless.
Unlike his mother, Uni had never been particularly devout. He enjoyed the splendor of church services but secretly sympathized with the teachings of a sect of learned men who held that the sun could be worshipped for its life-giving rays without any need for cathedrals and priests. All one had to do, they taught, was rise at dawn, go to bed at sundown, and work hard in between. His job at the archive had kept Uni out of the sun for most of his young life, and he was especially glad on this day to part ways with his private fear that he would spend his best years shut away in a dank basement. He looked around at the sunlit square like a kitten that had just opened its eyes, nervous at first, but growing in confidence.
The crowd in the square was getting increasingly impatient. Uni sympathized. When would everything begin?
“Don’t squirm,” Groki barked from somewhere behind him. Or was he hearing things? Uni wanted to turn around and look, but suddenly a pure, deep tone rang out over the square. It was the Great Cathedral Gong, and the sound of its note penetrated deep in the heads and chests of all present. Even Uni’s nervous stomach was vibrating. It was time!
The sound of the gong melted in the mid-morning sun, leaving behind a light hum that did not dissipate, but instead grew stronger and stronger until it sounded like the droning of bees. Uni realized it was the sound of voices. Inside the Cathedral tower, a choir of children was singing the Hymn to the Sun. Uni’s head turned like a swivel. He couldn’t shake himself of the illusion that the singing was coming from the sky. Soon he heard the stronger voices of the older boys, and after a while they were joined by the powerful voices of the adult men. Uni knew the words of the ancient hymn by heart, which was always sung in the language of pre-imperial Herandia. He had always admired the hymn as a historical relic, but now he heard it with new emotion. This time, he did not find the pomp and spectacle amusing. Touched, and feeling serious, he looked away from the Cathedral roof just in time to see the most important moment unfold.
A long red and orange carpet had been rolled down the shining marble staircase in front of the palace. On both sides of the carpet, two lines of Imperial Guards descended the stairs in parallel lines. Covered head to toe in armor that shone with gold and copper, they stepped in perfect time down the stairs until they reached the polished granite of the square. The shining discs on their helmets all disappeared from view at once when the two lines turned to face each other and each warrior struck the ground with his spear. Then they froze, two living walls stretching from the square to the Heavenly Throne, that symbol of the Herandian monarchs that was without equal anywhere in the world.
According to legend, the throne was made from a single piece of sky-blue lazurite. By design, it was too large for even the tallest man to sit on, so the Emperor sat on a small pillow on top of the throne’s footrest. A large jewel was embedded in the back of the throne (perhaps a topaz or a diamond, Uni had heard several versions of the story).
The gong rang out again, and the singing grew louder. Now, the singing came from all sides of the great square. Priests in yellow, orange and red robes carrying banners of the Sun stood around the edge of the square. Their voices came together in a single current that overcame all who heard it. Again, Uni swiveled his head back and forth to see everything and almost missed the next event.
Just in time, he noticed that the crowd around the throne had grown. Dressed in elegant robes, shining cuirasses, or the red garments of the priests of the Sun, they were all part of the Imperial Council, which was the highest authority in the land and comprised 24 of its most influential and respected men. Uni had always suspected that most of them, despite their grand titles, had little to do with the actual process of determining the Empire’s policies and fates. The full council met rarely, and only for official events. It was said that the Emperor occasionally consulted with members of the council at large, but that most affairs were managed by the small circle of council members whom Uni had already seen. As he watched the members, he saw Licisium Dorgoe listening politely to someone he couldn’t see because he was hidden by another member’s golden armor. Just then, the crowd shifted, the owner of the armor took a step to one side, and Uni saw who Dorgoe was talking to: it was Manelius Ronko, dressed in a fashionably fitted, snow-white robe with a bright purple stripe down the middle. He was telling Dorgoe something with great animation when the large man suddenly took a step back, put his hands on his chest, and shook with rumbling laughter.
“May the Sun scorch me, would you look at that!” Uni thought with a prickling of envy. His eyes landed on another figure. “I wonder who that is? All the soldiers are wearing shining helmets. The one with long, dark hair must be Necium Tameto. He’s violating the dress code, but no one seems to notice. Those nobles don’t dare say a word to the man who protects the northern border!”
Tameto glanced around haughtily at his fellow officers. Uni recognized a few of them: Enritel Narzey, the commander of the Southern Fleet, Rarocium Hanmo, whose forces guarded Capotia and kept an eye on the Arincils, and Dergedium Lami, who often had to beat back the barbarians of Torgendam. He had heard rumors of money budgeted to repair ships that later disappeared without a trace. He had also heard that the Empire’s foot soldiers wore torn uniforms and were sometimes ”leased” into slavery, where they were glad to be given three square meals a day. He had no warm feelings for Tameto, but his seven-thousand-strong cavalry was considered the best trained in the entire Imperial Army, and its men had an irrational, dog-like loyalty to their brave leader. Uni assumed that the palace bureaucracy put up with the sad state of the rest of the army because it had been twenty years since the last war with the Torgs, the fearsome Arincils were far away, and only the northern border was ever breached by disorganized bands of Sotray nomads. And yet Tameto had left his men behind to take part in the luxury and intrigue of the capital, where backstabbing and infighting made up most of the officers’ combat experience. His interest obviously went beyond protocol. The man turned his hooked nose, and for an instant Uni feared that the scourge of the northern barbarians would strike him where he stood. Oh Heavenly Deity, my imagination is playing tricks on me!
The atmosphere of anticipation was electric, as if a storm was gathering its forces to rain down on the noblemen’s heads. Uni had been told what would happen, but he was completely unprepared for the experience of seeing it. He turned to the column of Norius and saw that the Founder’s hands where shining with a blue light – that was the effect of quartz-coated bronze mirrors on the hands that shone blue when they caught the sunlight. The effect was a stunning reminder of how Norius had been blessed by the Heavenly Deity when he founded the Herandian Empire four hundred years before. The flames in Norius’ hands flickered with the colors of the rainbow and shone in gold sparks. It was a sight to behold! Uni held his breath. The rainbow light reflected down on the delegation, himself included. Suddenly, he realized how wonderful the sight must be for the people in the crowd, where his mother and his friends stood. His heart filled with a warm joy. He would have liked to look for them in the crowd, but just then, Norius’ palms turned towards each other. A ray of sun shot out from between them and fell on the Imperial Palace, as if Norius were sharing the Deity’s power with his successor!