The sizeable Daish retinue was already disembarking from the gangway on the other side of the galley's stern. The Rainbow Moth's crew were unloading the multitude of chests and coffers that a visit such as this demanded. Janne's personal musicians moved to stand aside, carrying no more than their instruments and small bags of personal belongings. Maidservants fluttered around, anxiously instructing the four blank-faced porters chosen for their broad shoulders and safe hands.
And for those far more useful attributes, names and faces unknown to the Ulla troops as practised swordsmen.
Confident all his people were about their allotted tasks, Kheda followed the fawning servant, Telouet stalking grim-faced behind him. Janne swept along serene and beautiful, Itrac doing her best to do the same beside her. Birut brought up the rear a pace behind, the challenge in his stare making it plain to anyone curious that both women were under his protection. The lackey handed them into the rowing boat and they left the landing stage. The rowers bent over their oars and pulled.
'Ulla Safar will receive you in the rose garden,' the lackey announced with the air of a man conveying wonderful news.
Kheda merely inclined his head by way of reply. He was managing to keep his face impassive but the stench of the stagnant water all around was making his stomach roil. Clouds of black flies rose and fell in the still air between the walls.
'How delightful.' Janne was made of sterner stuff.
Kheda turned to look at her and saw she'd prudently provided herself with a small pomander that had been hidden among the folds of her skirts. Itrac produced a fan of white feathers from somewhere and, as she plied it, Kheda detected it had been doused in perfume. He turned back to the front, hiding a smile.
Ulla Safar's women are no match for my Janne and it looks like Itrac Chazen is a willing pupil.
Kheda glanced apparently idly from side to side, noting the numbers of men walking the high ramparts on either side.
Will the swordsmen waiting on Daish triremes keeping station just far enough away not to provoke Safar be a match for Ulla men? There are more warriors on this one watch than the Daish domain could summon with a full muster. Is this just some show by Safar, designed to intimidate me? It would be nice to think so. Unfortunately, this strength in arms is probably the only thing about this fort that's all it seems.
That unpalatable fact was enough to make his stomach churn even without the foulness they were travelling through.
'Derasulla is quite the largest island in the whole southern compass of the Archipelago,' Janne was telling Itrac with apparent admiration. 'With iron ore of his own to mine, every Ulla warlord can pluck as many men as he likes from their villages and arm them all, and of course, with so much land, there are plentiful resources to feed them.'
Surely we can overwhelm these savages and even their wild magic with greater numbers? Surely Ulla Safar will see it's vital for his own domain's security that he join us infighting them?
The rowing boat passed beneath a narrow bridge giving the guards passage between the inner wall and the outer. A drain was built into the brick span, to carry the fortress's slops out to the river. Several bricks had fallen away where the curve met the outer wall and a dark stain marred the sun-baked red surface. Fortunately the rowing boat soon stopped at a water gate in the inner wall. Kheda took the steps two at a time, eager to get away from the stinking water and out of the searing sun. The cool inside the thick stone walls was almost as welcome as a draught of ice water.
'This way.' Bowing low with fluttering hands, the smooth-faced lackey led them through a maze of passages and stairways. Kheda blinked as his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light filtering through small windows high in the lofty walls. Whoever had built the fort had opted to trade light for shade. After climbing through the outer, humbler circles of the fortress, they found themselves walking through marble halls with floors of painted tiles. Gullies were built into the angle of wall and floor, intended to flow with cooling water. Basins for fountains sat beneath skylights where corridors met in vivid circles of interlacing patterns. For the present, all the gullies and fountains were dry, doing nothing to mitigate the heat within the fortress. The cisterns waiting for the rain's bounty had been dry and dusty refuges for house lizards hunting spiders long since. Finally, they reached an archway opening on to the merciless brilliance of the sunlight. The lackey halted and bowed low once again, a sweep of his arm inviting the warlord to proceed.
Kheda strode through the arch without pausing, narrowing his eyes against the glare as discreetly as he could. They were high in the citadel at the heart of the fort where a courtyard had been turned into a sumptuous physic garden.
And the rare and exotic plants brought to the Ulla warlords by hopeful suppliants and grateful subjects are uniformly drab and dusty, I see. The most valuable medicinal herbs all but dead for lack of water. Well, they'd be wasted on Safar. The man can barely dress a cut finger.
At the moment, Kheda saw, the Ulla warlord was taking his ease in a sumptuous summerhouse in the middle of the courtyard. Anyone wanting to speak to him would have to cross the garden, sun beating down on their unshaded heads. Ulla Safar didn't seem to have noticed their arrival. He was cleaning his nails with the tip of a broad dagger, one of those that characterised this domain, with the curious handle designed for a punching blow, twin bars to frame the forearm and a crosspiece for the palm.
'I imagine you have covered walkways in this kind of heat, don't you? We always do,' Janne remarked artlessly to Itrac as they strolled behind him. 'I shall have to suggest it to Mirrel. I'm surprised she hasn't thought of it, but then, she's in such a muddle over her sandalwood at the moment. I don't suppose she's had time to pay attention to much else.'
Kheda kept his face impassive.
'Women's discussions are no business of a warlord's! Daish Reik told you that often enough. In any case, no one plays these silken games better than Janne and Rekha. If Itrac gets nothing else out of this trip, she'll get an education to leave Chazen Saril deep in Daish's debt.
He greeted Ulla Safar with every appearance of contentment. 'My lord, it is always a pleasure to visit your home.'
'You are welcome at any and every season, Daish Kheda.' The warlord was reclining on a daybed claiming most of the shade within the octagonal summerhouse. It was built of the sandalwood that was one of the Ulla domain's valued trade commodities, with walls of fretwork panels that could be drawn back to accommodate a breeze from any direction. At the moment there was no wind at all, even at this highest point in the citadel, but at least the scent from the overblown rose bushes on all sides mitigated the stink from the river far below.
'Janne Daish, a delight to see you once again. Do introduce me to your charming companion.' Ulla Safar raised himself on one elbow with a jingle of agate necklaces and smiled something perilously close to a leer at Itrac. A grossly fat man, nevertheless his bracelet-laden forearms still snowed the muscle that had maintained his position as eldest son before self-indulgence had let him run to seed as warlord. His huge belly strained the seams of his saffron-yellow tunic and his gold rings bit deep into puffy fingers. A full black beard disguised his jowls somewhat, laced through with golden chains that were looped back around his long hair to pull it off his face. His eyes were unusually pale for a man of such dark complexion.
Eyes like a jungle cat, Safar, you and your son Orhan both.
Kheda was about to introduce Itrac when Janne forestalled him.