As if sensing that he was being watched, the man looked up and met Dannyl’s gaze. He rose in one graceful movement and began plucking at the strings, coaxing out a melody. To Dannyl’s amusement, what he’d assumed was a shirt was actually a strange belted costume with a short skirt, and the musician’s legs were covered in brightly painted yellow and green stockings.
“A man in a robe. A man in a robe.
The man in the robe, is in our abode.”
The musician danced across the room, stopping in front of the bench. Bending slightly, the musician crossed his eyes at Dannyl.
“A man in a dress. A man in a dress.
The man in the dress, will cause him distress.”
Unsure how to react to this, Dannyl looked questioningly at Errend. The Ambassador was watching with bored tolerance. The musician spun about and struck a dramatic pose.
“A man with a belly. A man with a belly...”
The musician paused and sniffed the air.
“...the man with the belly, has a nice smelly.”
Errend’s mouth twitched into a half-smile as a scattering of laughter came from around them. The musician bowed, then spun on his heel and raced back across the room to the women.
“In Capia my lover has red, red hair, and eyes like the deepest sea,” he sang in a sweet, rich voice. “In Tol-Gan my lover has strong, strong arms and she winds them both around me.”
Dannyl chuckled. “I’ve heard another version of this song sung by Vindo sailors, but it would not be at all acceptable to the ears of those young ladies.”
“No doubt the song you heard was the original, sweetened here for the court,” Errend replied.
The musician presented his instrument to one of the ladies with great ceremony, then began performing backflips. “What a strange man,” Dannyl said.
“He practices the art of flattery with the aim to insult.” Errend waved a hand dismissively. “Just ignore him. Unless, of course, you do find him entertaining.”
“I do, though I’m not sure why.”
“You’ll get over it. He once—”
“The Guild Ambassadors for Elyne,” boomed the voice of the King’s guard.
Errend rose and strode across the room, Dannyl following a step behind. The guard gestured for them to wait, then disappeared behind the door.
Dannyl heard Errend’s title called, then his own. There was a pause, then the guard returned and ushered them through.
The audience chamber was smaller than the previous room. Two tables stood on either side, and at them sat several men of middle to late years—the King’s advisers. In the center was another table, with documents, books, and a plate of sweets arranged on it. Behind this central table, in a large cushioned chair, sat the King. Two magicians stood behind him, their watchful eyes noting every movement in the room.
Following Errend’s example, Dannyl stopped and dropped to one knee. It had been many years since he had knelt before a King—and he had been only a child, brought to the Kyralian court with his father as a rare treat. As a magician, he took it for granted that all but other magicians would bow to him. Though he did not feel a great desire to have people make such an obeisance to him, if they didn’t he felt oddly slighted, as if common courtesy had been breached. Gestures of respect were important even if just for the sake of good manners.
But to kneel before another was humbling, and that was an emotion he was unused to experiencing. He could not help thinking how satisfying it must be for a King at these moments, to be one of only a few people in the Allied Lands who magicians would genuflect to.
“Rise.”
Standing again, Dannyl looked up to find the King examining him with interest. At over fifty years of age, Marend’s reddish-brown hair was streaked with white. His gaze, however, was alert and intelligent.
“Welcome to Elyne, Ambassador Dannyl.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“How was your journey?”
Dannyl considered. “Good winds. No storms. Pleasantly uneventful.”
The man chuckled. “You sound like a sailor, Ambassador Dannyl.”
“It was an educational voyage.”
“And how do you plan to spend your time in Elyne?”
“When I am not dealing with the issues and requests that come my way, I shall explore the city and surrounds. I am particularly looking forward to seeing the Great Library.”
“Of course,” the King smiled. “Magicians seem to have a limitless hunger for knowledge. Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Dannyl. I’m sure we will encounter each other again. You may go.”
Dannyl inclined his head respectfully, then followed Errend to a door on one side. They entered a smaller room, where several guards stood, talking quietly. Another man in uniform ushered them through a second door into a corridor, which led to one of the side doors of the large room they had first entered.
“Well,” Errend said. “That was quick and not very exciting, but he’s had a good look at you now, and that was the point of this little trip. Now, I’m going to leave you here. Don’t worry. I’ve arranged for somebody to—ah, here they come.”
Two women approached. They bowed with dignity as Errend introduced them. Dannyl nodded in reply, smiling as he remembered some particularly interesting gossip he had unearthed about these sisters.
As the elder sister hooked her hand under Dannyl’s arm, Errend smiled and excused himself. The sisters then led Dannyl about the room, introducing him to several famous Elyne courtiers. Soon Dannyl had put faces to many of the names he’d memorized.
All of these courtiers seemed genuinely eager to meet him, and he found himself feeling almost uneasy about their interest. Finally, as the sun began to send long beams of light into the room and he saw others leaving, Dannyl decided he could excuse himself without appearing rude. Once he had extracted himself from the sisters, he started toward the Palace entrance but before he reached it a man stepped out and addressed him.
“Ambassador Dannyl?” The man was thin, his hair cut very short, and his clothes were a dark green that was somber compared to the colors of the rest of the Elyne court.
Dannyl nodded. “Yes?”
“I am Dem Agerralin.” The man bowed. “How was your first day at court?”
The man’s name was familiar, but Dannyl could not remember why. “Pleasant and entertaining, Dem. I have made many new acquaintances.”
“But I see you are on your way home.” Dem Agerralin took a step back. “I will make you late.”
Suddenly Dannyl recalled where he’d heard the name before. Dem Agerralin was the man of “dubious associations” that Errend had spoken of. Dannyl looked closer. The Dem was a man in his middle years, he guessed. There was nothing obviously remarkable about him.
“I am in no hurry,” Dannyl said.
Dem Agerralin smiled. “Ah, that is good. There is a question I wish to ask you, if you will allow me.”
“Of course.”
“It is a private matter.”
Intrigued, Dannyl indicated that the man should continue. The Dem seemed to consider his words, then made an apologetic gesture.
“There is little that escapes the notice of the Elyne court and, as you might have guessed already, we have a fascination for the Guild and magicians. We are all very curious about you.”
“I have noticed.”
“So it should not surprise you that certain rumors have reached us about you.”
A chill prickled Dannyl’s skin. He carefully schooled his expression to one of surprise and puzzlement.
“Rumors?”
“Yes. Old ones, but ones that I and a few others have had cause to recall and reconsider since we learned you were coming to live in Capia. Do not be alarmed, my friend. Such matters are not considered as, ah, taboo here as they are in Kyralia, though it is not always wise to be too public about it. We are all very curious about you, so may I be so bold as to ask if those rumors had any truth to them?”