The Family Tree by Sheri S. Tepper

Author:Sheri S. Tepper [Tepper, Sheri S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780061976339
Publisher: Eos
Published: 1997-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

21

Opalears: Account of an Audience

Prince Sahir was seriously annoyed.

“Why do you get a private audience?” he demanded. “Why not me?”

Izzy spoke between his teeth. “Did it ever occur to you I may be in serious trouble here?”

Sahir snorted. “Why?”

“Oh, my prince,” I cried, greatly distraught, “you know why. Perhaps the emperor knows that Izzy used magic to save us from the Dire Duke.”

Sahir fell silent. He had not considered that possibility. He lowered his eyes, though he did not go so far as to apologize. “Perhaps that is so. I forgive you.”

“Kind of you,” said Izzy. “If I end up sentenced to death, just remember your forgiveness. Use diplomacy. Tell the emperor you’ll be his fast friend forever if he lets me go back to Palmia safely.” He shuddered. He’d been shuddering ever since Faros VII had summoned him and asked that he come alone.

“I think that person is looking for you,” I whispered, indicating a liveried ponja standing in the doorway.

Izzy took a deep breath, rose, smoothed down his jacket and followed the ponja. Though I did not go with him, he told me all about it, later.

He followed for some little time, up flights of stairs and across open courtyards and down other flights of stairs, finally ascending what seemed to be the central tower.

“What’s the protocol?” he murmured to his guide, when they stopped at last outside a gilded door.

“He’s not much for head banging,” murmured the other. “Bow on entering, speak when spoken to, bow before leaving, and that’s about it.” He turned to knock, then turned back. “Oh, yes. Don’t use any words with bahs in them.”

“Bahs?”

“The letter Bah, right.” The secretary rapped, entered and summoned Izzy into the presence.

“Prince Izakar of Palmia,” the secretary announced.

Izzy bowed.

“Come on over here,” said a gruff voice.

Izzy looked up to confront an even larger version of Fasal Grun. This person was becoming grizzled with age, but his movements were agile as he beckoned to Izzy to come forward, to sit opposite him on one of the chairs set within the curve of an oriel window that looked out over the sea.

“Would you like some wine?” the emperor asked. “Cakes?”

“We have just had b—a meal, Your Majesty,” said Izzy, carefully spelling each word to himself. The words, of necessity, were hesitant.

“Zarl’s told me about your group,” the emperor said, examining Izzy closely. “Some sort of a fortune lost? Some sort of prediction?”

Izzy took a deep breath. “Ah, Prince Sahir, of Tavor, was directed b—that is, received directions from a seeress to go to the Hospice at St. Weel, else some great disaster might bef—that is, happen. In my case, the prognostication came from the seeresses. I am to solve the Great Enigma or our posterity may b—that is, ah, is endangered.” He fell silent, wiping his face with his pocket handkerchief.

The emperor gave him a sympathetic look, nodding. “You’ve been prince of Palmia for some time now.”

“I have,” Izzy responded.

“Nice old castle you have there. Palmody, isn’t that the name of the town? Old town.

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