The paving stones fairly vibrated with the combined industry, and the air was filled with dust and smoke, the clamor of voices and the clangor of hammers: hammers on stone, hammers on metal, hammers on wood. Like the soldiers on the bridge, everyone wore the livery of the High King-long green tunics over blue trousers, and wide silver collars.
The entourage passed through the first zone and came to the second circular canal, whose bridge, like the first, had two high towers on either side which were joined by a covered walkway above, from which a gate could be lowered. The banners of the Nine Kingdoms flew from spears, a soldier in ceremonial armor-breastplate and shield shaped like scallop shells and helmet shaped like a nautilus-gleaming beneath each one.
Upon crossing the bridge, they entered the second inner ring which, when compared to the first, was as silent as the grave itself, for this was the province of the Magi who served in the temple of the High King or taught their ancient arts in the temple schools. The buildings of this ring were of glazed brick also but tinted light blue; they had thin windows and narrow, arched doorways and were topped with bulbous domes, around which were constructed circular parapets. Scattered among the dwellings were numerous round towers with staircases spiraling up the outside. Instead of domes, however, the towers’ tops were flat, thus affording the Magi platforms from which to study the night sky with various sky-searching instruments.
A dense blue haze hung over the section, and this, Charis soon realized, was due to the mounds of incense burned for divination. For on every corner and in every nook and sheltered alley of the honeycombed streets, Magi, standing at smoldering braziers or huddled over seeing stones in dark dens, served pilgrims of the Nine Kingdoms who had come seeking advice or blessing or to have their futures cast by the wisest and most holy in the land.
The carriages proceeded through the second zone and came to the third and last bridge, which was made of stone and lined on either side with pedestals-each one bearing the sculpted likeness of a former High King. Across the bridge rose the palace: a gleaming mountain of a structure rising up on tiered bases stacked, it seemed, one atop another in descending sizes to end in a great, needlelike oBelisk at the pinnacle. This oBelisk was carved from an enormous crystal of topaz, so that when the sun’s rays struck it in the morning, the oBelisk appeared to flare like a single golden flame.
Great hemispheres of orichalcum domes bulged atop massive square foundations; gleaming towers and rotundas topped by golden cupolas reached skyward; gigantic columns stood in ordered rows, bearing up roofs and ramparts; tall, tapering spires with gilded finials soared majestically over all. There were halls and galleries by the score; elevated gardens graced every level; fountains and waterfalls sparkled in the sun.
The procession passed through a huge archway and entered the foremost courtyard, a veritable plain, where the travelers saw porters standing rank on rank, awaiting their arrival. They stopped and had no sooner stepped down from their carriages and chariots than the porters sprang into action, unloading the wagons, seizing the luggage of the kings and bearing it into the palace on their heads. All at once they were surrounded by music; Charis looked and saw musicians emerging from the colonnade marching forward to welcome them.
Leading the musicians, some distance ahead of them, strode a tall man dressed all in green and carrying a gold-tipped ivory rod. “Is that the High King?” asked Charis in a whisper.
“No,” answered her mother, “that is the king’s steward. He will conduct us into the palace and present us to the High King.”
The steward bowed low before the kings, uttered a few private words, and then they all tramped up the short flight of stairs to the colonnade and into the palace. Charis, who thought that not even Bel himself could have a palace so grand, walked lightly, as if her feet had difficulty making contact with the ground.
They entered a reception hall and the steward gave them to the care of chamberlains, explaining, “Your apartments have been prepared. You will wish to refresh yourselves after your journey. The High King is anxious to welcome you and will do so this evening in the Hall of Oceanus. Ushers will come for you at the proper time.” He inclined his head in a regal nod. “Until then, should you require anything to complete your happiness, the chamberlain is yours to command.”
Avallach and his family and servants were conducted along a seemingly endless series of corridors which led at last to an open atrium across which were apartments on two tiered levels. “Yours are the upper rooms, Sire,” explained the chamberlain. “The lower rooms are for your retainers. My quarters are there…” He pointed to a doorway off to one side. “Want for nothing while you are here. Your desires are mine to fulfill.” So saying, the chamberlain conducted them to their rooms and quietly withdrew.
Charis was accustomed to luxury and fine furnishings, and yet the appointments of her room made her gasp with delight: the cool sheen of silk and the rich, warm luster of sandalwood and teak met her eyes wherever she looked. She whirled through the room, arms outstretched, touching everything, and arrived at the white marble balustrade of a small balcony. “Oh, look! Mother, have you ever seen such a wonderful garden?”
Briseis joined her on the balcony to survey an immense green expanse in the height of its flowering splendor. Shaded pathways wound along streams fed by softly splashing fountains filling cool, flower-edged pools. “Simply wonderful,” agreed her mother. “It is even more lovely than I remember.”
“And look,” said Charis, “a staircase of rny own so I can go down to the garden any time I want.” She looked out across the garden park to the great swell of an enormous shining dome rising above a grove of acacia trees opposite her balcony. “What is that? The High Temple?”
“No, that is the council chamber where the Great Council convenes.”
“I want to go see it! I want to see everything!”
“We will see it all soon enough,” laughed Briseis. “I have no doubt you will find enough to keep you busy for as long as we are here. Come now,” the queen motioned her daughter back inside, “we must leave exploring for later. It is time to wash and change so that we are ready when the usher comes for us.”
Charis walked slowly back inside, brightening again when she discovered that her room possessed a small bath, and that it had been filled with scented water in anticipation of her visit. She quickly undressed and stepped in. “Oh, it-it is magnificent!” she said as she slid into the warm water.
“Enjoy your bath,” her mother said, “and I will send Ilean to dress you.”
“I can dress myself,” Charis said, splashing at a floating blossom.
“You are getting your hair wet!” warned her mother. “We will be dining with the High King in the presence of other kings and royal families; you must look your best. Ilean will dress you.”
Charis was still wallowing in the water when the maidservant came in. “If you please, Princess, stand up and allow me to wash you,” Ilean said as she seated herself on the marble ledge.
“I have already washed,” Charis replied, standing up. “I am ready to be dried.”
Charis stepped from the bath, and Ilean wrapped her in a large linen towel. “The queen has chosen your blue gown for this evening.”
“I prefer my green one.”
“The queen has instructed me otherwise.”
Charis shrugged haughtily and allowed herself to be dressed in the pale blue gown. Her hair was curled and combed and blue and white silk ribbons affixed to the tresses. A garland of tiny white flowers was hung around her neck and new white sandals placed on her feet. Charis looked at her reflection in a large mirror of polished silver. She saw a slender girl with hair like pale sunlight, a high, smooth brow, and large green eyes. She practiced a greeting smile and tweaked her cheeks to bring some color to them.