Markan Throne

  "With the Father and these as witnesses, I anoint you Caretaker Emperor of Marka."

  He turned and took the scepter from one of the priests. Gold and encrusted with gemstones, it felt heavy in the sylph's hand and he feared dropping it.

  "You are to rule over and guide us," continued the Imhotep. "This scepter symbolizes your rule and guidance."

  He turned to the other priest and took the orb from him. Also made from gold and equally gem-encrusted. Fortunately, being smaller, it was not so heavy.

  "You are to protect and succor us," intoned the Imhotep. "You possess this orb to symbolize your protection and relief."

  Marshal Mikhan passed a sword to the Imhotep. Zenepha's heart began to beat faster. Plain and simple, with a stained leather scabbard, the sword looked shabby and unimportant. A soldier's sword, ancient yet well used. A priceless artefact, being the founding Mark's weapon. Thankfully light, it lay across the sylph's lap.

  "You govern and administer us," rumbled the Imhotep. "This sword symbolizes your government and administration."

  From Olista, the Imhotep took the crown and Zenepha thought his heart might burst. This was really happening! Humans really were about to make a sylph their Emperor. He felt small and insignificant.

  "You are our Emperor." The Imhotep smiled at the sylph as he slipped the crown over the cap. Zenepha wore this to protect his earpoints and, at Belaika's suggestion, to stop their movement. It also stopped the Imhotep from accidentally brushing against them, which would be embarrassing. "I crown you Emperor Zenepha of Marka, Dominator of the World, Guardian of the Key, Commander of the Shadow Riders and Lord Protector of Gwerins."

  The crown sat snugly on Zenepha's head. He hoped the lining held. Hoped that this would be the last time he wore the thing.

  The Imhotep raised his voice. "Behold your Emperor!"

  The cheering in the hall deafened most people, but was as nothing compared to the shouts outside.

  People filled the square outside, crammed into every niche and corner, hoping to glimpse their new Emperor. The streets beyond were also packed and people jostled for a better view, as if they might miraculously get closer. More made the most of their holiday by celebrating in the nearest tavern.

  Lance Captain Kestan heard the cheering several streets away and raised his eyes heavenwards. A special holiday for the people of Marka, but just an ordinary day for the army moving into the city. Nobody wanted to be caught outside the walls when Hingast arrived, so everybody must move into the city.

  Kestan had the dubious honor of commanding the troops moving Marcus's belongings into the Imperial Palace. Zenepha wanted Marcus to act as one of his advisors and suggested he and his family might like quarters in the palace. Zandra had already moved into the city, but Marcus should find the palace more comfortable than a tent outside the walls.

  Kestan suspected the Emperor wanted the other claimant where he could keep an eye on him. He must be aware that the army commanders obeyed Marcus, except perhaps for some of Branad's old officers. Either way, they owed the sylph – and Marka – nothing. He hoped Marcus and his family were not about to be held as virtual prisoners in the palace. There would be trouble if this turned out to be the case.

  Dismay welled when the carts turned a corner to meet the crowd, still wild with excitement. He turned to his Markan guide, who maintained a good humor despite missing his holiday. Certainly more cheerful than Kestan's troop, who grew restless with the delays.

  "Is there another way to the Imperial Palace?" asked Kestan. "We've no chance of getting through this lot."

  The guide shrugged. "Maybe Victory Parade," he suggested. "We haven't gone that way yet."

  "Then we'll try," sighed Kestan. This was the third failed attempt to reach the palace, as people blocked all the other ways. "Any other routes through?"

  "That'll be the last," replied the cheerful guide. "If it's blocked, we'll have to wait until the crowds go home."

  Which might lead to a mini-riot reflected Kestan. The men just wanted to get this task completed and then join every other Markan now tipping ale down his throat.

  It proved fourth time lucky for the small convoy. The soldiers swarmed over the carts to unload Marcus's belongings and furnishings. Kestan leaned against the lead cart and stared towards the coronation building. The guide joined them.

  "Somewhere in there, they've made an Emperor out of a sylph," he said.

  "How can people accept it so easily?" asked Kestan. "Are they all in shock?"

  The guide shrugged. "Marka needs an Emperor."

  "A sylph?" Kestan shook his head. "It's ridiculous. Marka'll be laughed at over this centuries from now."

  The guide shrugged. "Your lot are the ones saying sylphs should enjoy the same freedoms as humans. It's only one step beyond that to have one as ruler."

  Kestan's thoughts turned to the rescued wild sylphs. "They've certainly triggered a debate. But how many sylphs have actually demanded manumission? I suppose a sylph as Emperor might help persuade them."

  "And they are being trained as scouts? Yesterday I saw what looked like a training field. Boys and girls."

  "Indeed. They make excellent progress, very good learners. One or two problems of course."

  "Like?"

  Kestan laughed and lowered his voice. "Some of the trained ones are shocked females want to learn the skills as well. But the training Sergeants refuse to eject them. They'll only stop training those who fail to meet the required standard, male or female."

  "A little foolish to use females in war?"

  "No more than using sylphs at all. There's not much difference between them. If any. So far as we can tell, anyway. We don't expect them to fight, so that isn't an issue. To the wild sylphs, the survival of the tribe is paramount and everyone must do what they can do best. If that means a few sylph girls want to cover themselves in paint and live wild for a few weeks at a time, fine."

  "Still seems strange to me. A lot of strange things happening now."

  "Like having a sylph for Emperor." Kestan laughed aloud again and clapped the guide on the shoulder. "Learn to adapt, we must all do that from time to time."

  The guide shrugged. "Up to you what you do I suppose."

  Who wanted to learn scouting gave Kestan no concerns. What bothered him about the wild sylphs was the way they increasingly looked to him – and the other humans involved in their rescue – for guidance and suggestions. He feared they were sacrificing their independence.

  The scouts involved in the rescue had been offered membership of the wild ones' fledgling tribe. The scouts had asked if that meant breaking their existing bonds which, being sylphs, they were reluctant to do. This small refusal had sparked the debate among the sylphs, an argument about slavery and freedom.

  "There will always be a place for you among us," Aelfina had promised them. "For you and your families."

  The wild sylphs were gently coercing their enslaved cousins to join them.

  Kestan looked down then away again. He shook his head. The nameless sylph who had fussed over him since the rescue had stayed outside Marka today. He had grown accustomed to the small infertile's presence.

  Many of the wild sylphs had come into the city for Zenepha's coronation, intrigued by a sylph ruling humans. Usually reluctant to pass the gates, they were likely mixing with the crowds now.

  What would they do when Hingast arrived? Enter the city or melt away? He must learn their intentions; if they stayed outside the city during a siege, they could be very useful. So long as they remained undiscovered by Hingast. And if some soldiers stayed outside the walls with them... Kestan smiled. He must speak with Ranallic as soon as he got the chance. He had a few ideas.

  He glanced down again, still half expecting to see the infertile beside him. She had giggled when he asked for her name and shook her head, clearly unwilling to share it.

  Aelfina told him all the infertiles had names, but would only share them with those they wanted to serve. Aelfina also sa
id that among sylphs, the infertiles named themselves, or perhaps each other. It was a human custom to give infertiles names.

  When she shared her name, Aelfina had said, she would feel duty bound to remain with him. When asking her to share it, Kestan had apparently also asked if she wanted to be his servant. As she had not refused to reveal her name, she must be considering his question. And he must wait for her answer. Perhaps her absence was the answer.

  He had bought an infertile sylph for his wife, but she had named the creature and cared for her back in Calcan. That sylph was now more pet than slave, a very similar relationship to that shared by Marcus and Jenn. But the wild sylphs were different, very different.

  Seeing a young soldier about to lift a box that might cause him an injury, Kestan pushed his thoughts aside and hurried to help.

  ***

  Zenepha took a large bite from the chicken leg; some time had passed since he had last eaten fowl. The coronation feast had begun with seasonal fruits, followed by delicious fish and now the chicken for him and the other sylphs present. The humans ate roasted boar. The best was yet to come: a choca dessert before drinking and dancing. Zenepha would avoid the drinking, but he looked forward to dancing.

  He glanced at Selkina and leaned toward her.

  "Well?" he asked.

  Selkina managed a small smile. "Uneasy," she replied. Her earpoints gave a violent twitch as she looked around the gathering. "So many."

  Zenepha squeezed her arm. "You will be fine when the dancing starts."

  Her smile broadened. "So proud of you," she whispered.

  He looked around the hall, less afraid of crowds than his wife was. Perhaps the size of the hall intimidated her. Large, open spaces bothered many sylphs; he knew of several who walked around city squares rather than across them. But he had never noticed this fear in his wife before.

  Most of his advisors were close, with their families. Principal Chancellor Lanas, once Leader of the Senate, had now appointed his cabinet. Those men were also seated nearby. The remainder of the distinguished guests filled the tables that stretched away from him. Marcus, sat to the sylph's right, leaned toward him.

  "Our move into the city will be complete before the end of the week," he promised. "I don't know about the wild sylphs – they're yet to make their intentions clear."

  "I see." Zenepha's attention returned to the crowd. Certain he had glimpsed Stanak, he felt a twinge of disappointment that Sandev had stayed away. The bodyguard's presence suggested she planned to attend, though. "Has General Ranallic worked out his patrol roster yet?"

  Zenepha had asked Ranallic to work out how many men he needed to keep Marka and her environs clear of bandits. No bandits meant people could safely return to their farms and begin to employ the many sylphs presently infesting the city's streets.

  Olista said he wanted a word about those itinerant sylphs, but he had not yet found an opportunity. Zenepha did not want to hear excuses. Sylphs needed the security of owners, which was how things should be.

  "He's working on your orders as we speak," replied Marcus. "A force of a thousand men should be sufficient. Working with the scouts, we should have ample warning of Hingast's approach."

  Zenepha nodded, then caught sight of the serving girls moving forward. "Ah!" He rubbed his hands together in glee. "Choca!"

  Marcus privately thought this sylph would have no teeth left before he got much older. Two nights running he had chosen a choca dessert. Sylphs grew new teeth every ten years or so, but if the ones they had already were lost prematurely, they still must wait for new ones. An advantage Marcus wished humans could share.

  Marcus tried to ignore Zenepha's actions as he finished the dessert. To lick out a bowl, even to ensure not a trace of choca remained, displayed disgraceful table manners. Every sylph present copied the Emperor and Marcus was not alone in grimacing.

  Zenepha hid a contented belch behind a hand. "And now," he announced, "we shall retire while the hall is prepared for dancing."

  Zandra touched her husband's arm. "Will you excuse me? There are some ladies I should converse with."

  Marcus glanced across at Tamsin, who already gathered ladies around her. "Of course."

  The politicians bunched into their factions, some staring belligerently at each other, but Zenepha hurried past them all. He refused to meet their stares and quiet hints, trying to catch Stanak. He glimpsed a patch of blue; he had brought Caya, which suggested that Sandev intended to be here.

  "Your Majesty." Stanak inclined his head.

  Zenepha forced a smile. "Stanak-ya. Where is Sandev?"

  Caya stared at the Emperor, perhaps thinking him rude for his bluntness.

  "She'll be here," promised Stanak.

  Marcus and Belaika appeared beside Zenepha, ready to fend off any other politician who might follow. Selkina was not far behind. She and Caya exchanged a ready smile; the two had been friends for years. Zandra finished her talk with Tamsin and rejoined her husband.

  "Sandev is here," interrupted a smiling Sandev. "Your Majesty, how did the day go?"

  Zenepha had no attention for Sandev and ignored her question. Belaika and Selkina were equally still. The sylphs also ignored the short gray-haired man with Sandev. They ignored the infertile sylph with her. But the fourth latecomer in Sandev's small group seized their attention.

  Shorter than the humans and fertile sylphs, long shapely limbs hinted at more growing to come. Brunette hair tumbled across her shoulders and down her back. Barefoot, she wore green tunic and leggings, and smelled like a pine forest. Collarless, she was no slave, and laughter-filled emerald-green eyes held their own silvery gray in thrall. Those emerald irises were not round, as in humans, but slightly oval, a difference obvious to the careful observer. Zenepha and Belaika bowed.

  "Alvanya," breathed Belaika. He decided a bow was not enough and fell to his knees, copying Selkina's example.

  "Ilven?" echoed Marcus.

  "Please rise." The ilven spoke flawless sylph. "I should make obeisance to you, Majesty." She nodded to Zenepha as Belaika regained his feet.

  The rumor that an ilven was present rippled through the hall. More and more people began to crowd around the doorway and the green-eyed newcomer suddenly looked shy. She looked up at the old man with her.

  "Too many at once," she said, quickly.

  The silver-haired man squeezed the ilven's shoulder. "Can we go apart for this?" he asked.

  "A room is through here," offered Zenepha, "where we can talk privately."

  Sandev nodded. "An excellent idea; this one?"

  She knew very well which room Zenepha intended and the sylph felt pleased that she made no move to undermine his authority. Moments later, they were away from the crowd.

  Sandev made introductions. "This is Zenepha, now Emperor of Marka; Marcus Vintner, one of the claimants, and Zandra Ems, Marcus's wife. The sylphs are Belaika-y-Marcus, Selkina-y-Zenepha and Caya-y-Sandev. Stanak is my bodyguard. Everybody, meet Grayar, an old friend, the sylph is Salu-y-Grayar and this young lady is Djerana. An ilven."

  "Pleased to meet you all." Again, the ilven inclined her head. For a moment she appeared to turn shy again.

  Marcus and Zandra both stared at the old man. "Grayar?" said Marcus, eventually. "Another of the Ten?"

  Grayar scowled. "So my name is remembered here."

  "Not by many," interrupted Sandev. "I hear the band warming up. May I have the pleasure of the first dance?"

  Grayar's features softened. "Of course you may." He offered his hand.

  Zenepha looked at Selkina and nodded in Belaika's direction. She understood and took the sylph scout by the arm.

  "How is Eleka?" Selkina made conversation with her dance partner. "Not long now surely?"

  Zenepha nervously cleared his throat. He had read nothing that suggested ilven were dangerous, despite their intended role within their sephiroth, but much that warned they could be flighty or mercurial. Or both, depending on which eye they opened first in the morning. H
e wondered which best described her. "May I offer myself for the first dance?"

  Djerana's face cleared and she gave the sylph a large smile. "I'd love to," she declared, emerald eyes sparkling.

  Zenepha's return smile was equally warm.

  ***

  Sandev watched Djerana offer her hand to Belaika for the next dance, almost pushing Selkina aside. Sighing, she turned to Grayar.

  "So much for getting her close to Marcus Vintner."

  Grayar chuckled. "The best laid plans go wrong," he replied. "If nothing else, it should help bring the people of Marka more solidly behind your sylph."

  "We want them more solidly behind Marcus," she complained. "I can't afford to have them choose wrong this time."

  "Precious little you can do to prevent it," retorted Grayar. "If you want them to act as you wish, rule them directly yourself." His blue eyes bored into Sandev. "We know the dangers of that, having to fight people once they learn to hate our power instead of respecting it."

  Sandev sighed again and nodded. "You're right; I must let events run their course."

  "Often the wisest choice." Grayar almost smiled. "The Father will show a way. Perhaps He wishes to see humans ruled by sylphs."

  Sandev snorted. "A recipe for chaos. Zenepha is one sylph among many. It was hard enough getting him to accept his role; he tried to refuse it. Imagine that struggle every time an Emperor dies."

  Grayar watched Djerana's graceful movements as she danced around the hall. She danced with Belaika, but she led him, rather than the other way about. Other hungry eyes stared at the ilven. "She would have got on better with Marcus if you hadn't bunged us straight into the middle of Zenepha's coronation dinner-dance," he muttered. "All these humans at once. Too much for even the most forward of ilven."

  "She seems happy enough now," remarked Sandev.

  "Wait and see what happens when a human wants to dance with her," pointed out the other. "She's already refused Marcus Vintner twice."

  Sandev winced. This had not turned out at all as planned. Typical ilven. She watched as the door to the hall opened.

  Jenn slipped unobtrusively through the door. Instead of joining her owner, she stood on tiptoe, eyes questing. Brightening, she tripped across the floor to Belaika and put a hand on his arm. Her dance interrupted, Djerana gave the newcomer a neutral look that soon turned to interested concern.