"My gods," Sarraya breathed, gaping up at the monstrous building.
"Unbelievable," Tarrin said in the manner of the Cat.
"What is that place?" Allia asked in consternation to Phandebrass.
"That, my dear, is the Imperial Palace," he replied. "We set up here three years ago. I say, at least when the tent is up, you can't see that blasted thing. It unnerves me, it does."
"A palace? You mean the Emperor lives there?"
" Only the Emperor and his Empress," he nodded. "I say, there's an army of servants, slaves, and guards, but it's not like other palaces or castles of monarchs. Only the Emperor and Empress and their marked servants may enter that palace. It is death to so much as be caught on the grounds without invitation."
"Then where does the Emperor conduct business?"
"He doesn't," Phandebrass replied. "I say, the empire is run by a million beaurocrats and lackeys. The Emperor only handles the largest issues. He leaves the details of running Yar Arak to his sycophants, who do a terrible job, if I may say so. For every day of real work done around here, there's fifty days wasted to plotting, scheming, and backstabbing against other ministries, departments, or co-workers, there are."
"Ridiculous," Allia grunted. "How can one rule a nation and have no care for its needs?"
"My dear, you just summed up everything that's wrong with Yar Arak," Phandebrass smiled. "Now then, let's help get the tents set up, so we can get some rest."
Tarrin lounged off to the side with the drakes and Sarraya, forming a relaxed knot of scales, fur, and blue skin as the others went about the business of setting up the five tents that would serve the circus. The largest was the performing tent. There were four small tents as well; two of them served as the quarters for the performers, the third was a storage tent, and the fourth was Renoit's personal tent. Like Tarrin, the drakes enjoyed the dry heat, rolling on their bellies to soak up the sun's warmth, but Sarraya spent her time huddled against Tarrin's side, using him as a shade against the sun as it began to creep down towards the western horizon. He didn't remember seeing the drakes join the procession, but they obviously must have done so. Then again, Phandebrass was marching towards the rear of the group, since he wasn't actively performing, and the drakes were notorious about riding along with others. Odds were, they were sitting on the tents as they were carried behind the performers. Tarrin accepted Chopstick's nuzzling absently, letting the drake lick him behind the cheek before the little dragon plopped down against him and settled in to take a nap. It draped a wing over his back, which Sarraya immediately pulled over herself to form a protective cover against the sun beating down on her.
"I hate all three of you," the Faerie growled vociferously as she hunkered deeper in the shade of Chopstick's wing. "It's not fair that I'm burning up while you lie there like a bunch of lizards basking on a rock."
"Suffer," Tarrin replied drowzily, leaning a bit more into Chopstick.
They finished raising the tents right at sunset. During the construction, robed Arakites stopped to talk with Renoit several times. They weren't there for very long, and all of them looked like they were officials of some kind. Sarraya had abandoned them as soon as the first tent was raised, flitting into it to enjoy the shade. By the time they were done, and some fires were set between the tents so meals could be cooked, the drakes abandoned the waning sun and moved in to where the food was. Tarrin yawned and stood up, then padded along behind them. He joined a large group of performers, along with all of his friends, as they sat around a large campfire and ate a thick stew Deward had stirred up in a large kettle by the fire. The conversation was light, expectant, merry, the sound of people tired from a long day of work, but happy that they were doing what they wanted to do. Someone played a flute sweetly, filling the campfire and the large group of people around it with light background music to accompany the meal. There were so many there that not everyone could sit near the fire, forming a loose circle of people sitting around it to use its light to see by. Tarrin and the drakes threaded through them absently, ignoring them for the most part, as they sought out specific people. The drakes took to the air and landed on Phandebrass' shoulders, and Tarrin jumped up into Allia's lap as she ate. The smell of the stew reminded him that he'd slept through lunch, and a skillfully raised paw pulled the wooden bowl closer to his mouth to get Allia's attention.
"Why should you be hungry, my brother?" Allia teased. "You did nothing but sleep all day."
"Sleeping can be hard work, Allia," Deward chuckled, picking up a small wooden plate and scooping a portion of stewed meat, carrots, potatos, and peas onto it, then coming over and setting it down beside her. "There you go," he grinned.
He jumped down to eat, but found himself besieged by the two drakes, looking to share in his bounty. He may accept them and like them, but when it came to food, it was every small animal for itself. Tarrin put his ears back and hissed at them threateningly, a sign they immediately understood. They accepted him as well, but both of them knew exactly who and what he was, and knew better than to challenge him in any manner. They backed away from him cautiously as he settled down in front of the meal.
"Let's not be nasty, brother," Allia chided. "Deward, would you please?" she asked him in the common tongue.
"Of course, there is plenty for all this night," Deward said grandly, going to fetch two more plates.
After another of Deward's excellent meals, Tarrin licked his chops and laid down in Allia's lap quietly. He had to start tonight. There was no time to waste. He doubted the others would be ready to start, and that was something that he could understand. They'd spent the day setting up the tents, and they were expected to perform. He'd done nothing but sleep. He needed to get one of those amulets from Phandebrass and have someone give him a map of the city, so he'd know where he was going and how to get back. If they could fit a map of the massive city on one page, anyway.
Renoit stood, and the piper stopped playing. "Our hosts, I have spoken to them, yes," he began in a clear voice. "We are to begin our performing in two days. I had to explain why we are late, but they understood, yes. The sea, she can often be a dangerous mistress." He blew out his breath. "We will be performing once or twice a day up to the Festival of the Sun, and after that, we will perform for ten more days before departing. The agents, they have warned us that there is a chance that the Emperor and Empress may attend one of our performances. During the Festival, they are known to do this, yes. If that happens, I do not think I have to tell you to do your absolute best. And trust me, if they come, you will know it.