Emissary by Fiona McIntosh

Author:Fiona McIntosh [McIntosh, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780732281816
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd
Published: 2008-08-11T04:00:00+00:00

JUMO BOWED SOLEMNLY TO Boaz. As with Lazar, the man looked as if he’d aged since Boaz had last seen him. He found a sad smile for the loyal servant.

“Jumo, welcome back. I have some news to share later,” he said cryptically, unable to announce it so publicly yet. “But for now I must ask you if you can help us at all with our Galinsean visitors that we cannot communicate ably with.”

“They are here, Majesty, because of what I had tried very hard to share. That Lazar had died.”

Boaz assumed as much. “I see. And did they understand you?”

Marius and Lorto watched the exchange with studied interest, frowning as they tried to grasp one word in five or six as the Percherese spoke their fast, fluid, and elegant language.

“I’m afraid they did. There were a lot of gestures and hand waving, pointing, and frustration. It took me a whole day of difficult explanation to get some semblance of the news across to them.”

“Thank you. Can you explain, then, why they are here?”

Jumo looked at his Zar with an expression of disbelief. “To hear it from your mouth, Majesty, that you did execute the favorite son of Galinsea.” He said this in innocence, unaware that the Zar did not already know the truth of Lazar’s heritage.

A murmur went up around the room and the Zar glared, his eyes roving past soldiers and Elim alike. He couldn’t blame them, however. This news that Lazar was a favorite of Galinsea was a shock. All but he still assumed the man was of Merlinea.

“And then what?”

Jumo looked appropriately embarrassed that he had to answer this. “The obvious, Majesty,” he began, but his eyes shifted as he spoke—a mute had entered from behind.

Boaz noticed him, too, and signaled him to come forward. “Carry on, Jumo,” he urged as the mute signed a well-disguised message to him.

Maliz, also watching these proceedings with great interest—albeit detached—as though he were participating in a piece of high drama, felt a spike of frustration that he couldn’t make out what was being exchanged between the Zar and the mute. Salazin was being deliberately careful, which was odd—he’d have expected the mute to be deliberately careless so that he, the Vizier, could easily make out the conversation. He did not let that frustration show on his calm expression, however, as everyone heard Jumo finish what he’d begun.

“…considering the weight of offense, Majesty, I would hazard they will declare war.”

Now a fresh murmuring erupted.

“They’ve come here masquerading as peacemakers but in truth to declare war?” Boaz asked, his tone incredulous. Neither of the visitors looked in the least bit fearful for their own lives, which could so easily be taken from them at a single command from the Zar. He gave a final signal to Salazin, who moved toward the door behind the Zar. “Silence,” he called to those still reacting to the mention of war.

Jumo cleared his throat. “Highness, I cannot know for sure because I, too, am at the

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