The Throne room had changed again, since the water had stopped falling from the moon. Now there was more water stars falling from the sky, but hammering on spot on the continent, making a sea where the Nadumon had been.
The
great windows were veiled with mist and the canyon and desert outside
were barely visible through the white haze. The two windows that
showed images were the ones showing what both the Emperor and his
husband were doing in code.
Kyrus
the Elder sat in what had been the throne, apparently made of carved
topaz, but the Great Hive above had poured honey over it and him.
Hara knew it wasn't truly honey, but the clear, golden construction
of the bees. The only part of him that was uncovered was his face, as
the bees armoured him with gems. He looked as though he was part of
the throne itself. His eyes were closed and in the golden gauntlets,
his fingers moved.
Ilax
lay on a couch like a 'Sleeping Martyr King', the waterfall of gems
and bees and sparks flowing and moving over him as though he were
wrapped in a blanket of light. In the screens, showing what they were
doing in code, was so achingly slow it was almost imperceptible. They
were building fine, hair-lik threads that slowly, carefully grew into
and around and through Glass Mountain's security
At
that rate they'd all be in their white mounds before this war was
over, she thought, but didn't say. “Pa? Stepapa?” She called
quietly so as not to startle them. “You need to come out. You've
been in there too long today already.”
Kyrus's
eyes twitched open and he winked at her before his face went still
once more. Ilax's she eld hand rose in a half wave, barely visible
as if partly underwater. Hara sat down cross-legged, to wait.
As
she settled to the floor in front of the throne, something she hadn't
done before, there was a click, a hum between her ears and an image
rose up in front of her, also cross-legged. He was a bald old man
with bees on his head, bees on his wrists... all around. A necklace
of bees. No, a collar, a breastplate of bees.
His
eyes opened and he stared at Hara, even as she was aware that her
fathers were easing out of code. “We have not been introduced,”
he said. “I am the recorded memory of Diryish Pollus. Are you
related to me, that your DNA should call me up to instruct you?”
“I'm
Haraklez Vania aht Ruikart, daughter of the surdeniliarch of
Milar, married to your grandson.”
“Ah.
So what is the news?”
She
found herself explaining. “The Hippifrei have sent a bone-herd,
and some kind of princess to ally with us.”
“The
Hippifrei?” The recording seemed to hesitate as it searched the
possible responses. “That's unusual. I only dealt with their
ambassador as a young man, they withdrew when I went to Trovi as a
conquering young idiot.”
“Grandfather
by marriage... How... how is it that we are all splintered like this?
How could Lainz have fallen so far into Empire and conquest?”
“As
far as I know... which could very well be incorrect, Haraklez... the
survivors of Gregor and Petra Lainz had a significant falling out in
the time before where my code records begin... Five hundred
eighty-seven years ago. Milari went north over the river. Trov and
his people went to the eyebleed.. plains.
The
Pollus line... we apparently were somewhat still following Prime's
ideas of a rigid, feudal society where knowledge is strictly
controlled. The Nadumon were never part of the desperate diaspora
and the Hippifrei were actually. I have fragments of code, should
you wish to examine them. My father and his father before him were
very proud of being Emperors of a small part of this world.”
“It
was a mess! It still is... people are only gradually becoming
literate across Lainz... Trovi... it was part of Lainz once?”
“Yes.”
“The
Hippifrei,” she came back to that.
“They
are descended from another owner and her family. I suspect that the
code my great grandson's mother is fishing out of history... the
first Empress... mentioned the name Nadine.”
“Why
are they here, then? Why are they allying with us instead of staying
with an owner who Prime isn't trying to smash out of existance?”
“I
have no recordings that address this. I never found out in my
lifetime. The person who got closest to understanding them was Dukir.
Ask his daughter, Shashi Basserus. She may know.”
With
an odd hum, the clear jewelled armour and coverings over the two men
was pulling back. “Da... the Hippifrei are coming,” Hara said,
as the recording of Diryish froze, in pause mode. “They've sent a
whole bone herd along.”
“Oh,
Light and Dark,” her step father replied after throwing a glance
over at his husband, just sitting up. “You remember that
Necromander we fought on the road to get here?”
“Ew...
the one who threw all the dead things at us?”
“Even
the dust. The Hippifrei have that kind of mandery. They control
earthan codes, but only things dead or decomposing.”
“Ew.”
“Don't
let them hear you say that. It's quite honourable to them. They get
more benefit out in the razor grass by having the use of something
they don't have to feed or water.”
She
took a deep breath. “Great Grandfather by marriage. Please shut
off your recording. I'll be back to talk.” The image of the old
emperor vanished into a swarm of bees. “Da, Stepapa... I'll be
good but I still have nightmares of the newly dead road crew getting
back up and coming after us.”
“He
was surely an aberration.”
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