the other side of Istarinmul.
“It would appear so,” said Nasser. “Sulaman has sent men to take command of the Hellfire engines on the walls. If need be, he is willing to order them turned against the Golden Palace, to destroy it with a bombardment of Hellfire amphorae.”
“But that will kill thousands of people,” said Damla.
Kylon gave a grim shake of his head. “The Apotheosis will kill far more if it is not stopped.” He looked around. “Have you seen Mazyan? He was with me on the ramparts, but I lost track of him.”
“I saw him going that way,” said Laertes, speaking up for the first time. “We should join him.”
“Aye,” said Nasser. “I suggest you and your friends accompany us, Lord Kylon. We might well have need of your skills before too much longer.”
He turned his horse, as did Laertes, and Damla and the others followed Kylon as he walked alongside the horsemen.
“If you do not mind the question, sir,” said Agabyzus, “might we know who you are?”
Nasser flashed a smile, his teeth stark and white against his dark face. “I am simply a man interested in the well-being of Istarinmul and the defeat of Grand Master Callatas.”
“His name is Nasser Glasshand,” said Kylon, “and yes, he’s the legendary master thief.” Nasser made a mocking little bow from his saddle. “His friend is Laertes, a mercenary who organizes Nasser’s expeditions.” He gestured at Damla. “This is Damla, the owner of the House of Agabyzus, the finest coffee house in the Cyrican Quarter.”
“I like to think it has a claim to being the finest coffee house in all of Istarinmul,” said Damla.
“I look forward to putting that to the test, mistress Damla,” said Nasser.
They walked along the line of horsemen, heading towards the banner of the Padishah in the center of the Bazaar. Next to it Damla saw a banner bearing the seven-towered sigil of the House of Shahan, and a flicker of old rage went through her. Her husband had followed that banner to his death in Marsis. Of course, Caina had killed Rezir Shahan in Marsis years ago, and from what she had told Damla, Tanzir had hated and feared his elder brother so much that he had thanked Caina for killing him when they had first met in Malarae.
A band of horsemen in fine armor waited beneath the banners, and Damla spotted the familiar sight of Mazyan. When he had come to the House of Agabyzus, he had always carried a drum alongside his scimitar and chain mail, though now he only wore armor, and a strange fire glowed and flickered in his eyes. He stood next to a horse carrying a thin, middle-aged man in armor, his bearded face ascetic and solemn.
Damla swallowed, a wave of peculiar emotion going through her.
Knowing that the poet Sulaman was actually Prince Kutal Sulaman Tarshahzon had been one thing. Seeing the man she had hired many times to recite epic poems to the patrons of the House of Agabyzus sitting upon a horse, surrounded by nobles awaiting his commands, was a surreal experience. Of course, everything that had happened over the last two years had been surreal, but this was nonetheless one of the strangest things she had ever experienced. To think that she had presumed to haggle with the Padishah’s son!
More to the point, to think she had presumed to haggle with the man who might well become the new Padishah by the end of the day.
“Lord Kylon,” said a stout young man in the ornate armor of a wealthy emir. Most likely this was Tanzir Shahan, the emir of the Vale of Fallen Stars and the chief of the rebel nobles. “We must congratulate you. It seems your plan was successful.”
“Indeed it was,” said Sulaman in his quiet voice. His dark eyes shifted to Damla, and she swallowed again, but he only smiled. “Mistress Damla. It is good to see you again.”
“Lord Prince,” said Damla, blinking. “I confess that…that…”
“Your help was invaluable for all those years,” said Sulaman. “There were many who wished to see me dead, but only a few people would have thought that a Prince of Istarinmul would disguise himself as a poet in the coffee houses. Hiding in plain sight is always best, and without your help, I would not have been able to do so.”
“You are welcome,” said Damla at once. “I…never suspected, lord Prince.”
He smiled. “Perhaps I shall soon have the opportunity to take my coffee at the House of Agabyzus once more.”
Damla