"Your Majesty," this new arrival said, as the men set the trunk on the floor, "it's such an honor to meet you! I'm Jandin, mistress of the wardrobe."
"I'll go tell the guards," Lethe called, ducking out. Almost out of earshot, she added, "If I can find any." The two men departed close on her heels, and the door closed behind them.
Jandin flung open the trunk, revealing a glittering array of expensive fabric, fine embroidery, and bright jewelry. Tabaea gasped, and her eyes went wide.
"Now, if Your Majesty could give me just the tiniest clue as to how you wish to appear today," Jandin said, "I'm sure I can find something here that will suit us…"
An hour later, as the nervous courtiers milled about the Great Hall in two distinct groups, the old and the new, their desultory conversations were cut short by the sound of trumpets. All eyes turned toward the rear staircase, and a few unfortunates quickly scurried to one side or the other to get out of their ruler's path.
As Tabaea rose into sight someone stifled a giggle. The empress was wearing the most incredibly gaudy dress that anyone present had ever seen. The basic colors were red and green, in alternating panels divided by gold borders. Jewels in a dozen hues glittered along every golden border and in elaborate patterns on the panels, as well. Gold braid circled the waist, hips, and bust, and edged each cuff; fine gold chains draped across the bodice. Padded crests rose from either shoulder. Gold-edged slashes in the puffed sleeves revealed tight black velvet undersleeves. She also wore dangling earrings of intricately wrought gold, and a headpiece of woven peacock feathers.
Several jaws dropped at the sight.
"I'll be damned," someone muttered as Tabaea made her slow march down the full length of the hall to the throne. He leaned to a companion and whispered, "I know that dress- Annara had it made for a show in the Arena. It was supposed to represent greed and tastelessness."
"Do you think Tabaea knows?"
"She couldn't-she wouldn't wear it if she knew."
"Maybe someone's played a trick on her?"
"That's one very risky trick to play on a known murderer and self-proclaimed empress!"
The speakers had no way of knowing that Tabaea, with her stolen abilities, could hear every word they said. She flushed angrily, but continued her procession, up onto the dais. With each step she considered what, if anything, she should do to Jandin; the wardrobe mistress had not suggested the dress, but she had not said anything against it when Tabaea had pulled it out, either. And she had put it in the trunk in the first place, hadn't she?
But on the other hand, Tabaea realized that this incident might well determine the whole tenor of her reign, whether she was seen as a ruthless tyrant or a merciful and generous benefactor. She had heard those courtiers call her a "known murderer," and she didn't like it. That was not the image she wanted.
Therefore, when she reached the dais, she turned and announced, "Welcome, my people!"
No one answered; no one knew what reply was expected.
"The brutal reign of the heirs of Anaran is ended!" Tabaea announced. "Today we begin a new era of justice and mercy! I hereby decree an end to slavery in this city; all slaves in Ethshar of the Sands are to be freed immediately! I decree forgiveness for those who have been driven to crime by the cruelty of my predecessors; all prisoners in the dungeons are likewise to be freed immediately! I decree that the brutal oppression of innocents by the city guard is to cease immediately; all guardsmen are to surrender their swords and are hereby charged with finding food and lodging for all those who have been forced to take shelter in the Wall Street Field! I decree that those who serve me shall be paid according to their true worth, and that for the present, that shall be assumed to be twice whatever my foul predecessor, the so-called overlord, saw fit to pay them!"
"She's mad," a courtier muttered, "completely mad!"
"No!" Tabaea shouted. "I am not mad!" She leaped from the dais and marched across the room, a pointing finger thrust out before her.
The courtiers parted, and she confronted the man who had dared to speak.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
The man bowed. "Lord Sancha, Minister of the Port," he said. "At Your Majesty's service."
"Minister of the Port?" Tabaea asked. "I have that honor, Your Majesty."
"Not anymore," Tabaea said. She laughed. "Sancha is no name for a portmaster, in any case. You're now Sancha the Fool, and your job is to entertain me with your foolishness." She had heard of such things in old tales about the Small Kingdoms; she had no idea whether Ethshar had ever had a court jester before, and she didn't much care. It had one now.
"As Your Majesty wills," Sancha said, bowing more deeply- much more deeply, an exaggerated, absurd bow.
Tabaea smiled. He was taking to his new post already. She reached out and grabbed his nose, then turned and led him to the dais. Those watching assumed that Lord Sancha was playing along as he followed, struggling wildly to keep his nose from injury; they had no idea just how strong Tabaea actually was. She was, in fact, hauling Sancha against his will, and the process was quite painful. She pushed him to the floor beside the throne, then sat down.
"It seems we need a new Minister of the Port," she said, "and undoubtedly there are other posts to be filled, as well, as I understand many of the officials of the city chose to depart with old Ederd. Fortunately, I brought some people to fill these vacated positions." She waved at the motley group that had followed her from Grandgate; some were still in their own ragged clothing, while others had plundered the palace and put on newer, cleaner, and better domes. Some were dressed splendidly, others ineptly; the result was a far more mixed group than the original rags had produced, and a far more mixed group than the more uniform and sedate crowd left from the overlord's court.
"Now, if you'll come forward, one at a time, and tell me who you are," Tabaea said, "we'll see if we can't put together a better government than this city has ever seen before!"
CHAPTER 29
At first glance, Harbor Street appeared unchanged-but upon a closer look, Sarai noticed differences. Windows were broken, buildings blackened by smoke, and walls chipped by blades and flying debris. Dark stains could still be seen in the dirt. And several businesses, perhaps the majority, were closed, although it was full daylight.
At least there weren't any bodies or other remains; someone had cleaned up after the fighting, clearing away the dead and wounded, dropped weapons, broken glass, and the rest.
Even so, the journey impressed upon Sarai that Tabaea had done real damage to Ethshar of the Sands. She arrived at the Guildhouse in a very somber and thoughtful mood indeed.
Someone she didn't know opened the door to her knock, and showed the three of them, Sarai and Kelder and Alorria, into the parlor. Alorria inquired after Tobas, and was promptly led away; Kelder and Sarai waited in uncomfortable silence for a second or two before Mereth, rumpled and worried, came to welcome them.
"How many died?" Sarai asked Mereth, after only the most perfunctory greetings.
"I don't know," Mereth said. "I don't think anyone's counted. At least, no one here; I suppose Lord Torrut knows."
"Where is Lord Torrut, then?"
Mereth shrugged. "I don't know, Lady Sarai. In hiding somewhere, probably-or perhaps he's holed up in the barracks towers; so far, almost all of the city guard has remained loyal to him."