Emperor's Edge Republic (81 page)

“Yes, sir!”

Mahliki snorted. “Can’t imagine I look pretty with blood leaking out of my shoulder and my hair plastered all over my face.”

Sespian took her hand. He thought about denying her claim and complimenting her beauty but suspected that she might appreciate a chuckle more than praise of something as meaningless as physical traits. “I think he was talking about Maldynado,” Sespian said.

“What?” Maldynado had managed to remove his own helmet by this point, and he shook out his headful of wavy brown curls. “I’m not a girl.”

“But you don’t deny being the pretty one here?” Sespian asked.

“Of course not. But in a manly way.”

The silly conversation did draw a smile from Mahliki. Good. Her face was pale, and Sespian worried about whether she had lost a lot of blood. He kept holding her hand while the medic knelt on the other side of her. Meanwhile, Dak and two more soldiers helped Starcrest up the beach. Sespian hoped they had a lorry parked up there, so Starcrest wouldn’t have to walk far. He also hoped Dak’s claim to having someone who could cure the poison was true and hadn’t simply been a comment designed to make his uncle feel better.

After cutting open part of Mahliki’s shirt and examining the wound, the medic said, “The bullet is lodged in your shoulder.”

“No kidding,” she said, then switched to Kyattese for a short soliloquy addressed toward the sky. Judging by her tone and the handful of Kyattese words Sespian knew, it wasn’t a compliment on the medic’s skills.

“Now, now,” Sespian murmured. “Being sarcastic toward the man poking in your shoulder isn’t a good idea.”

Mahliki’s face crinkled up in an expression he couldn’t read. “You should probably distract me then.”

“Ah, yes, forgive me for not coming to that conclusion on my own. Would you like me to tell you a story? Or a joke? Or discuss my plans for adding a plant-proof layer of shielding to your father’s new building?”

Sespian thought he was being rather charming, especially considering he was wearing a big uncomfortable suit coated in congealing plant grime, but Mahliki’s face crinkled up further, and he had the sense that he had disappointed her.

“Emperor’s warts, boy,” Maldynado said, “kiss the girl already.”

Sespian blushed at this interruption—shouldn’t Maldynado have trudged up the beach after the others?—but something about Mahliki’s raised eyebrows made him wonder if that wasn’t exactly what she had been hoping for.

“Here?
Now?
” Sespian waved at the desecrated beach and his own suit and appearance. He couldn’t even imagine how bedraggled he must appear after the night they’d had. What kind of reward was that for a woman? And she was injured. Surely she wouldn’t appreciate such a gesture from even the tidiest and most handsome suitor right now.

“Unbelievable.” Maldynado stood up and started dragging the generator and his equipment up the beach. “Not only am I the prettiest one here, but I may be the
smartest
one here as well.”

“Maybe the smartest male,” Mahliki murmured.

The medic lifted his brows and met Sespian’s eyes. “Normally I’d take that as an insult, but I think you’re the one in trouble here.”

“I think so too.”

Sespian looked down at Mahliki, but she wasn’t looking at him any more. He had missed his opportunity. It would be stilted and awkward if he tried to kiss her now, especially with the medic right there. He would find another opportunity, he vowed, a more
appropriate
one. And she wouldn’t be disappointed. Definitely not.

As the medic finished bandaging Mahliki’s shoulder and helped her to her feet, Sespian wondered if it was too early to panic and hyperventilate over his vow.

“Sespian?” came Maldynado’s voice from the top of the beach. Something about his tone made Sespian forget about kissing and his own stupidity. “You... might want to come up here now.”

Sicarius was at the top of the beach as well. He stood off to the side of the path, his leg propped on a rock, as if he had been there for a while. Watching Sespian to make sure he was all right? Waiting and not wanting to interrupt Sespian’s moment with Mahliki? Whatever he had been doing, Sespian was glad that he hadn’t kissed Mahliki after all. He doubted Sicarius would judge him or say anything about it, but there was something intrinsically awkward about having one’s assassin father watching for a first kiss. Er, second kiss. But Sespian had been so surprised at the other one that he hadn’t responded, so it hardly counted.

Sespian gave Sicarius a wave to let him know he was fine, then headed toward Maldynado, who was chewing on his lip thoughtfully. When Sespian reached the top, he spotted a black military lorry that was covered with dust and had a couple of broken branches sticking out of the nooks. Tikaya was embracing her husband near the front. Amaranthe was standing next to Colonel Starcrest and holding the hand of a little girl who was leaning against her. She had a dusty, tear-streaked face and the almond eyes and black hair of a Nurian.

“So...” Maldynado tried to stick his hands in his pockets only to realize he was still wearing the diving suit and didn’t have any pockets. “You remember that arrow with the note?”

“How could I forget it?”

“Well, it seems...
that’s
your favor.” Maldynado pointed at the girl.

“I... what?”

“There wasn’t really time to explain it earlier. Besides I thought it should be his job to—er, that he could explain it better.” Maldynado pointed his chin at Sicarius.

Sicarius was also grimy and dusty, with a rare day’s worth of beard stubble adorning his chin. “Come.” Sicarius put a hand on Sespian’s shoulder. “We must take President Starcrest to a suitable facility for his care. I will... explain along the way.”

Sespian rubbed his eyes. They were gritty from lack of sleep, but when he happened to meet the haunted eyes of the girl, he had a feeling he had nothing to complain about.

Epilogue

T
ikaya strolled into the banquet hall in sandals and a comfortable dress that wafted around her ankles, relieved that the Turgonian spring had finally grown warm enough that she could forego the itchy wool leggings that she had worn since arriving. She was also relieved that the decor for this dinner party was more sedate than she had expected. Oh, the purple and pink ribbons and bows twirling up the columns were questionable, the sparkly waist-high candles were garish, the drummers setting up in the corner were cause for concern, and the less said about that kissing-elephants ice sculpture on the table the better. But given that Maldynado had planned the gala, Tikaya thought the room could have come out much worse.

That would have been a shame, given the architectural elegance of the hall, its clean and simple lines managing to convey light, airiness, and a sense of freedom. Sespian had done well. The wings of the new presidential residence were still under construction, but the building’s core had been completed a week earlier, at which time Rias and Tikaya had moved in, along with more staff than she could name. They had hosted a couple of dinner events in the hall already, most for diplomats and city leaders who had to be schmoozed—among other things, there had been a petition to have the capital moved in the aftermath of the plant’s devastation. Tonight’s party was “a small gathering for a few friends, no business to be discussed, thank you very much.” While Tikaya might have preferred a family dinner in their rooms, this ought to be pleasant enough, with no need to worry about warrior-caste snobs and self-important such-and-suchs judging the president’s plain foreigner of a wife.

Rias had been waylaid in the hall by a couple of Dak’s officers, so Tikaya decided to wait for him before hunting for her name card on the dinner table. She walked over to Basilard and his translator, who had stopped to puzzle over the elephant ice carving. What exactly those trunks were supposed to be insinuating, Tikaya didn’t want to think about. She caught a blush on the woman’s cheeks. Basilard shook his head, more rueful than embarrassed. He gave Maldynado, who was gesturing expansively as he delivered instructions to the musicians, a long look over his shoulder.

“Good evening, Basilard and Elwa,” Tikaya said. The last time she had seen him, he had been covered with soot and grime after helping out at the fire. Now he wore clean Mangdorian buckskins with colorfully dyed fringes that brought to mind spring colors. His head was freshly shaven, though he had started growing a tidy goatee. His assistant wore a yellow-dyed buckskin dress with floral beadwork that must represent many hours of a craftsman’s time. Her red hair fell about her shoulders, rather than being back in her usual braid.

My lady
, Basilard signed.
Good evening.

“I understand you’ve finally had a chance to address your country’s concerns with Rias,” Tikaya said. “I’m sorry it was so long in coming.”

My grandfather used to say you cannot rush the buck hunt, when it is into his homeland you have traveled.

“Especially when his homeland has been taken over by a giant plant.”

Indeed so, my lady.
Basilard shifted to stand in front of the elephant carving. Blocking it from Tikaya’s view? Or Elwa’s? It wasn’t
that
bad... Though perhaps Tikaya had not yet deciphered all of the innuendo.
Has your husband recovered from his poisoning? And your daughter from her... injury?

From being shot, he meant. At the time, Tikaya had wanted to strangle Mahliki
and
Rias for risking their lives so out there, but these last weeks had been more peaceful, and she had relaxed a little. “Yes, they’re both doing well, thank you. Amazing since they’re both horrible patients. Stay in bed and rest? Impossible. Mahliki has been down in her new laboratory since dawn, utterly oblivious to the passage of time.”

Basilard smiled.
I have already heard a few explosions coming out of that laboratory. It’s two floors below our rooms. Directly below.

“Ah, we may have to find her something in a more industrial part of town. Visiting diplomats probably shouldn’t be woken in the middle of the night by detonations.” Tikaya shook her head, wondering what Mahliki was working on now. She was certain that the biologists back home didn’t blow things up on a regular basis. The chemists, yes, but that was to be expected.

I’ve been woken up by worse events
, Basilard signed.

“Will you be needing my services tonight, Leyelchek?” the translator asked. Leyelchek? Was that Basilard’s Mangdorian name? Tikaya hadn’t heard it before. “It seems all of your friends can understand your hand signs already.”

No, no
, Basilard rushed to sign.
Maldynado invited you as well, not simply myself
.
He wanted you to enjoy yourself and have a good time.
He smiled, but it soon faltered.
Unless... you do not wish to be here. You are certainly not required to stay. But I...
Basilard glanced at Maldynado and then at the table. Seeking inspiration?
I know he set a name card out for you.
He winced. Perhaps he had sought
better
inspiration.

“I don’t mind staying,” the woman said with a smile.

Good
, Basilard signed.
Why don’t we get a glass of wine?
He pointed to a pair of servers who had strolled in bearing trays of appetizers and alcoholic beverages.

Though he kept his smile slight and his face calm, his blue eyes gleamed with hope. Tikaya wondered if the young woman knew Basilard had romantic interests.

“I’d love to,” Elwa said. “My lady, will you join us?”

“I will later, thank you. I’m expecting Rias shortly.” Tikaya wondered if she would ever stop feeling odd at being called my lady.

The pair headed off toward the servers. Across the hall, Maldynado waved to someone—ah, he was trying to catch Basilard’s eye. He pointed at the translator and made a few gestures that Tikaya, with her superior foundation in deciphering languages, written, oral, and signed, interpreted as...
Put your arm around her waist. No? Well, at least touch the small of her back. Women like that!

Basilard turned his back on Maldynado. Good.

“Good evening, Professor Komitopis,” came Amaranthe’s voice from behind. She also wore sandals and a dress—it seemed everyone was appreciating the warmer weather—one with a more contemporary cut than Tikaya’s. It revealed a little more flesh, including well toned arms and calves, but not to a degree that would cause men to stop and ogle. Not that they would dare with Sicarius standing nearby. Although, for the moment, he wasn’t lurking behind Amaranthe’s shoulder.

“Good evening,” Tikaya replied. “Sicarius was unwilling to attend Maldynado’s dinner party?”

“He’s here. Ready for the festivities.” Amaranthe pointed toward the closest thing the well-lit hall had to a dark corner. Sicarius stood against the wall, wearing black clothing and boots and several knives. Admittedly, there were fewer knives than usual.

“Such as the weapons throwing competition?” Tikaya asked.

“Will there be one?”

“No, I was joking. I mean, I think I was. Are such events common at dinner parties in Turgonia?”

“Athletic competitions and exhibitions aren’t unheard of,” Amaranthe said, “and given Maldynado’s motives tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had arranged a few ways for the males present to display their prowess.”

“What
are
Maldynado’s motives? All I heard was that he wanted to host a celebratory dinner for old and new friends who had battled the plant and the priests and survived.”

“There’s one set of motives.” Amaranthe pointed at Basilard and his translator. “I don’t see Sespian yet, but he and Mahliki are another. He promised he would arrange a dinner companion for Deret Mancrest if he came as well. He’ll probably encourage you and President Starcrest to do some pressing of bodies, too, just to let everyone know there aren’t any disturbed feelings about that extra wife. And that way, people can see that he’s recovered from his poisoning. I hope he’s doing well?”