diplomat!’
He leant back on the hard ebony seat - there are no cushions, to remind us that we must be vigilant and dutiful at all times - stretched his arms along the top of the backrest, crossed his legs and spoke quietly. ‘She just said, “My name is Dellin Shira, but I call myself Shira Dellin, putting my caste name first because I am not afraid of being a Shira, born out of wedlock. Why should I be blamed if my mother ran too slowly?” Hear, hear! I couldn’t agree more.’
Other immortals were arriving all the time, and filing into the benches. From the footsteps behind the screen I could tell the mortals’ benches were filling up too; the news of a Rhydanne in the Throne Room was making its rounds and everyone was coming to see for themselves.
The Emperor pointed at Jant and crooked a finger in beckoning. Jant shuddered and rose to his feet. San said, ‘I wish everyone to hear her words. Translate for the benefit of all.’
Dellin stepped from side to side, warily watching the Emperor. The silence intensified as everyone listened and Jant prepared to echo her. She began. ‘People are like flint. It is hard and resists much harsh treatment, but when it does break its edge is sharper than steel. The Rhydanne are starving. The hunters are famished, and I was too, before I left. The Awians have taken the promontory; they are killing the game and driving us away, either with their feathered darts or on horseback. They . . .’ She mimed an archer in the same way Jant had.
‘Shoot,’ he said.
‘Shoot,’ she copied, feeling the word. ‘Shoot Laochan. My husband. ’ She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, which suddenly wet with tears, but whether from grief or frustration I couldn’t tell. ‘Now I have no husband, nobody to defend me if other men chase me, or to tend me if I am injured or pregnant. I have to hunt alone, but what is the point in hunting now? Any animals the Awians haven’t trapped and slaughtered they have frightened away with their noise and bad tracking.’ She paused. ‘Laochan Dara was from the summit of Klannich. It took me many years to find a hunting partner since I am a Shira. I may never find another. The Awians murdered him and they shoot at others, too. They don’t let us onto the promontory. I don’t understand why.
‘I have been travelling since the melt season, till I saw the pinnacle of this house on the horizon. The silver man must live in the biggest house in the flatlands, I thought. I was right. Here you have silver in abundance, more colours than all the mountain flowers, and you must be great hunters.’
I realised that she could not have spoken to anyone for six months and, savage as she was, I began to feel warmth for her. Half a year alone may not be much for a Rhydanne, but she must find the Plainslands strange and the Castle daunting. I admired her determination. Even immortals, Challengers and kings freeze in fear when they face the Emperor, but Dellin’s fortitude shone like a standard. She kept glancing up into the spire lined with gold mosaics, as if its point had pierced the sun and siphoned out liquid flame to run down inside and coat the galleries.
Without turning her back on the Emperor, she swept a glance over the massed immortals, taking in our unfamiliar clothes. She saw Tornado and gaped at his bulk, shook herself and returned to gaze at the Emperor through fine fronds of her black hair. The other Eszai entering were amazed at her lack of respect, and there was so much whispering going on I could hardly follow Jant’s translation.
The Emperor said, ‘Why did the Awians shoot Laochan?’
Dellin ducked her head. ‘We were hunting . . .’
‘What were you hunting?’
‘Some horses. We were starving so we ventured close and took one.’
‘You killed one of their horses?’
‘We took three!’
‘I see.’
‘They enclosed their animals on land where anyone
He leant back on the hard ebony seat - there are no cushions, to remind us that we must be vigilant and dutiful at all times - stretched his arms along the top of the backrest, crossed his legs and spoke quietly. ‘She just said, “My name is Dellin Shira, but I call myself Shira Dellin, putting my caste name first because I am not afraid of being a Shira, born out of wedlock. Why should I be blamed if my mother ran too slowly?” Hear, hear! I couldn’t agree more.’
Other immortals were arriving all the time, and filing into the benches. From the footsteps behind the screen I could tell the mortals’ benches were filling up too; the news of a Rhydanne in the Throne Room was making its rounds and everyone was coming to see for themselves.
The Emperor pointed at Jant and crooked a finger in beckoning. Jant shuddered and rose to his feet. San said, ‘I wish everyone to hear her words. Translate for the benefit of all.’
Dellin stepped from side to side, warily watching the Emperor. The silence intensified as everyone listened and Jant prepared to echo her. She began. ‘People are like flint. It is hard and resists much harsh treatment, but when it does break its edge is sharper than steel. The Rhydanne are starving. The hunters are famished, and I was too, before I left. The Awians have taken the promontory; they are killing the game and driving us away, either with their feathered darts or on horseback. They . . .’ She mimed an archer in the same way Jant had.
‘Shoot,’ he said.
‘Shoot,’ she copied, feeling the word. ‘Shoot Laochan. My husband. ’ She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, which suddenly wet with tears, but whether from grief or frustration I couldn’t tell. ‘Now I have no husband, nobody to defend me if other men chase me, or to tend me if I am injured or pregnant. I have to hunt alone, but what is the point in hunting now? Any animals the Awians haven’t trapped and slaughtered they have frightened away with their noise and bad tracking.’ She paused. ‘Laochan Dara was from the summit of Klannich. It took me many years to find a hunting partner since I am a Shira. I may never find another. The Awians murdered him and they shoot at others, too. They don’t let us onto the promontory. I don’t understand why.
‘I have been travelling since the melt season, till I saw the pinnacle of this house on the horizon. The silver man must live in the biggest house in the flatlands, I thought. I was right. Here you have silver in abundance, more colours than all the mountain flowers, and you must be great hunters.’
I realised that she could not have spoken to anyone for six months and, savage as she was, I began to feel warmth for her. Half a year alone may not be much for a Rhydanne, but she must find the Plainslands strange and the Castle daunting. I admired her determination. Even immortals, Challengers and kings freeze in fear when they face the Emperor, but Dellin’s fortitude shone like a standard. She kept glancing up into the spire lined with gold mosaics, as if its point had pierced the sun and siphoned out liquid flame to run down inside and coat the galleries.
Without turning her back on the Emperor, she swept a glance over the massed immortals, taking in our unfamiliar clothes. She saw Tornado and gaped at his bulk, shook herself and returned to gaze at the Emperor through fine fronds of her black hair. The other Eszai entering were amazed at her lack of respect, and there was so much whispering going on I could hardly follow Jant’s translation.
The Emperor said, ‘Why did the Awians shoot Laochan?’
Dellin ducked her head. ‘We were hunting . . .’
‘What were you hunting?’
‘Some horses. We were starving so we ventured close and took one.’
‘You killed one of their horses?’
‘We took three!’
‘I see.’
‘They enclosed their animals on land where anyone
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