Law of the Wolf Tower: The Claidi Journals Book 1, Tanith Lee [pocket ebook reader .TXT] 📗

anything that came from there could look any good. Terrifying, yes, revolting, probably. But not glowing and handsome, packed with energy, and this kind of easy pridefulness. With hair like melted sun.

One of the princes – Shawb – had risen, and now walked along the raised part of the hall, where the royalty were all sitting, until he came to the area just before the Old Ladies’ chairs. Shawb turned swiftly and nodded to them. (Armingat cackled. Corris looked hungry for trouble. Jizania was unreadable.)

Then Shawb stared down long and hard at the prisoner.

‘You speak, I understand, the language of the House.’

The prisoner shrugged slightly. ‘Among others.’

‘That doesn’t interest me.’

‘Nor me, really,’ replied the prisoner.

I liked his voice. It was clear, and had a faint accent of something or other. I liked his cheek, too.

Shawb didn’t.

‘This isn’t a joke. You’re in a bad situation. Didn’t you realize?’

‘Well, after your men fired on me, and brought my craft down, I had an idea or two about it.’

The Guards growled. Shawb scowled.

‘Your name?’

The prisoner half turned. He put a hand in a pocket of his coat, and at once a hundred knives and rifles were scraping up at menacing angles. But out of the pocket he only took a clean white handkerchief, very laundered.

‘Nemian,’ he said. ‘That’s my name.’ And then he walked straight across the space they’d stood him in, right up to the (unguarded) table and chairs of the Old Ladies. He laid the handkerchief in front of Jizania Tiger.

During this Shawb was shouting and the lined-up Guards breaking ranks and I heard the rifles clicking and clacking, getting ready to fire. I’d dropped the fan I’d been supposed to wave, and put both my fists over my mouth. What a hopeless gesture. But I didn’t know I’d done it until afterwards.

It was Jizania Tiger who held up her topazed hand.

‘All right. What do you want, young man?’ she asked in her excellent voice.

‘To give you this, madam.’

‘What is it? The rag you wipe your nose on?’

Nemian laughed. I liked his laugh. So did she. A carved little smile moved her lips.

‘Of course it isn’t, madam. It’s a flower from the Waste. You might care for it.’

Shawb bawled, ‘Don’t touch the muck – it may be poisonous.’

But Jizania said, ‘Not everything in the Waste is bad.’

I’d never heard anyone say that before. (It was then I noticed my fists clamped over my mouth and took them down.)

She’d unwrapped the handkerchief, and lifted up the flower. It really was one. It was fresh and firm, with big juicy green leaves, and the colour of the flower-head was crimson.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Jizania. As if she knew these flowers, although I’d swear there are none in the Garden, and so it must have come from the Waste.

And the Waste was Hell-on-Earth. So everyone had always said.

Nemian turned from Jizania with a bow. He looked round at all of us. He was smiling and unfussed, even though I now saw there was a streak of blood across his forehead. His eyes looked tired. I felt sorry about his eyes. I liked their colour, but I couldn’t remember what it was. Only the shape, and the shadow.

He said, ‘I’m on a search, a quest for something. I might have liked to visit your wonderful gardens, but alternatively I could just have gone elsewhere, if you’d preferred. In the end, I didn’t have much choice, did I? You shot me down. I assume you’re not used to visitors. Shame, really.’

Then he yawned.

I never saw anyone sit down so elegantly on a floor. Even when he was lying full length, he lay in a stylish way. Presently he seemed asleep.

Maybe you’re getting used to my odd type of thinking. But I thought just then, all those days and months I’d polished the floor, and never knew one day he’d stretch out on it and lie there. There was a strange ache in my chest like the pressure of tears.

But the Guards milled forward now and surrounded Nemian so none of us could see him. It seemed they thought that by going to sleep, he’d performed another dangerous and life-threatening trick.

A few minutes after that, the Guards hustled almost all of us out of the Debating Hall. Only the most senior of the princes remained, Shawb among them. Even the Old Ladies were politely and firmly requested to go.

Jizania made no protest. The other two cackled and squeaked and struggled like nasty old children kicked out of a party.

In the outside chambers, the thrown-out royalty stood around chattering to each other. I thought Jade Leaf might be her usual self, but instead she went barging over to her mother, Princess Shimra.

‘Mummy-mummy, can I stay with you?’

‘I’m going to the library soon,’ replied Shimra, ‘to read,’ looking uncomfortable as JL laid her head on Shimra’s shoulder.

‘Let me come too, mummy. I want to, mummy.’

‘But you don’t like reading, dear.’

Jade Leaf is about a head taller than Shimra, and now JL was acting like a little ickle girl, making her voice all gooey. This didn’t happen often, thank goodness, as it makes you sick. Shimra as well, from the look of it.

Soon after that, Jizania Tiger swept by, her two attendants proudly holding up her long brocade train. When she had passed, Shimra had somehow escaped her daughter, and JL came disconsolately back to us, her maids. Her one-side-reddened face was cooler, but she still seemed to be confused. Had I done that?

But I didn’t concentrate. I kept thinking of him.

What would they do to him? I’d only heard tales of punishments delivered to trespassers. Remember the lion, the one they killed?

We couldn’t hang about though, for JL went off upstairs to the Jewellery Chamber, and we all had to go too.

When I was a child I liked this room, which has all the most ancient jewels and ornaments of the House displayed behind glass. Now that room only made me annoyed. I don’t know why.

Today I barely saw