Weishu looked glossy and pleased, seated on the God-King’s throne. He did not look like a man who had been fighting for weeks. Briar stared at the flagstones, wondering if there was dirt under them, and plants. Don’t try it, he warned himself. You’ll get someone killed. The God-King’s audience chamber was ringed with Yanjingyi archers, each with a crossbow pointed at a captive. The mages who flanked the throne had beads ready in case their foes among the captives got any ideas.
Like a vision from his ugliest nightmare, he saw that Weishu held a chain with the God-King at the other end. The boy sat on his heels two steps below the throne, his face unreadable. He showed no signs of a beating. Either the kid had gone along peaceably, Briar thought, or Weishu realized that hurting the God-King was a very bad idea.
Briar shook with rage. Parahan, Soudamini, and Sayrugo were badly beaten. Rosethorn had a bruise shaped like a hand on one cheek: If Briar had been awake when that happened, the one who dealt it to her would be dead.
“My good friends,” Weishu said in tiyon. “Did you enjoy your sleep? It lasted for three days. I trust you will forgive me. I had to travel for some time to sit in this splendid chair, and I did not wish you to wake until I could greet you. I hope you are not too stiff.”
“Where are my priests and priestesses, please?” the God-King asked. “The heads of the temples should be here.”
Dokyi, Briar realized. Is he dead?
“They are locked in their temples and still slumbering, boy,” Weishu replied. “I will not have this discussion interrupted with more religious babble than necessary.” He raised his right hand and beckoned with his fingers. “Hengkai, get them on their knees,” he ordered, his voice no less friendly.
The general walked out of the shadows behind the throne to stand at the emperor’s right. He held a rope of mage beads in one hand. He’d lost weight since that breakfast in the oak grove. Briar was interested to see a bright gold band of metal around the man’s neck. How could he command an army if he was one of Weishu’s slaves?
Hengkai looked over the prisoners assembled in front of the dais. When his eyes lit on Briar, and on Evvy nearby, he spread his mouth in an ugly grin. He rolled a pair of beads between his fingers. They weren’t wood: Briar checked them instantly, though he didn’t mean to try anything that might vex the emperor.
Suddenly Briar felt pressure — on his shoulders, head, and hips. The pressure grew and grew. He wasn’t sure when it got to be too much. One moment he was standing; the next he was on his knees. He looked around in panic. Rosethorn and some of the shamans were still up, including Riverdancer. Then they, too, were forced down. Only the mages had knelt. The guards beside Parahan, Souda, and Sayrugo shoved them or kicked their shins to force them down.
Weishu smiled. “Hengkai does know how to use magic on mages.”
Briar yawned. He raised a hand to cover it before Rosethorn tweaked his ear for bad manners, and heard the sound of a blade coming out of its sheath. No hand movements, he thought, and slowly lowered his arm. It was sore. Were we really asleep for three days? he wondered. That’s why I feel like I’m made of wood.
He smiled cheerfully at Weishu and Hengkai. Sooner or later they would leave an opening. They might know academic magic, but ambient magic was trickier by far. Briar could pass a river of it through the ground under Garmashing and these people would never feel it. He only needed a plan.
“Much more respectful to have you on your knees,” Weishu said as if they were all friends. “What a splendid gathering of talents. Soudamini, it is an honor to meet you at long last. I have heard tales of your beauty, but they were inadequate. You and your brother will make fitting ornaments to my throne.” He looked at Parahan. “And this time I will ensure the chains cannot be removed.”
Parahan leaned forward and lazily spat on the floor.
“You will give in,” Weishu said gently. “Or I will return you to your uncle and I will give your sister to my concubines. They can be very jealous, and very good with poisons when they sense a woman does not have my favor.” He looked at Rosethorn, Briar, and Evvy. His face darkened with anger. “I show you my hospitality; I welcome you to my palace; I shower you with gifts, and this is how you repay me,” he said, his voice expanding to thunder in the chamber. “You side with my enemies. You slaughter my soldiers. You will spend your lives working for me, each of you hostage for the good behavior of the others.
“And you,” he said, glaring at the God-King as he yanked the chain leash on the boy. “I sent a command of surrender to you and you defied me!”
The God-King stumbled and fell on the throne’s steps. There was a rustle and a soft growl from the Gyongxin captives. The Yanjingyi archers and mages went very still, their eyes on the shamans. The archers fingered their crossbows.
“Of course I did. I still defy,” the God-King replied, his youthful voice breaking the tension. Everyone watched him. “You are greedy and foolish.”
“Stop!” Evvy cried. “Don’t make him angry!”
The God-King looked at her. “Don’t worry, Evvy. We’re having a talk.” To Weishu he said, “Shame on you for allowing what was done to her. Shame on you for what you have done to this land. You understand nothing about Gyongxe, but you think killing and burning will make it yours.” Weishu yanked his leash again, dragging the boy up a step. The God-King continued without stopping. “You will never rule this country. As well ask to rule the desert sands as you grasp them in your fingers. And if you try, your own lands will be deserts in the time of your grandchildren.”
“You will die horribly, where many of your people can see it,” Weishu said, leaning forward. “That will teach them who rules here.”
The God-King chuckled. “I don’t rule. I only speak for the gods. They will not speak to you.”
Briar was so overwhelmed by the boy’s courage or folly — he was still trying to decide what it was — that he didn’t notice the vibration under his feet until his teeth started to knock together. He glanced at the wall paintings. The people and the creatures in them leaned forward, their eyes fixed on Weishu. The paint actually bowed out from the walls. Most important of all, the large figures — the nagas, the winged lions, the giant spiders, and the huge vultures — were wriggling, as if they meant to peel themselves free.
“Stop it,” he mouthed at the walls. Too many guards were ready to kill the prisoners beside them. The paintings stared at him, but they settled down. “I don’t understand,” Briar said, to distract Weishu and because he really wanted to know. “How did you get here without us knowing?”
The emperor smirked. “For all your intelligence, you thought you couldn’t be beaten, is that it? Kings plant traitors in foreign cities like you sow plants abroad. Such traitors may live in a city for decades before their masters call on them. It is then that they drink a certain keep-awake tea so they can open the gates. I would have called on them earlier, but I wanted you five foreigners in Garmashing before I sprang my trap.” He smiled. “My mages put the rest of the city to sleep and my traitors let me in.”
The ground still trembled. Some of the archers were beginning to notice. Worse, Briar saw movement in the darkness at the top of the hall, on the very high ceiling in the rear. It was strange, disjointed movement.
“Since you are going to kill me,” the God-King said, taking a more normal seat on one of the throne’s steps, “would you answer a question for me? There are no tricks or mockery in it,” he assured Weishu, as if he were the conqueror’s elder and Weishu the captive. “It is a straightforward question. I hope you will be able to answer.” More than at any time before, Briar thought he did not sound like a boy at all.