once and he must have his suspicions about how Rhiana had guided the ship into harbour.
Zamara looked uncomfortable, as if the words had been a direct criticism of him. “Let us be off. We have been summoned to the presence of the King-Emperor,” he said. The words rolled off his tongue as if he relished them.
***
In daylight the Wizard’s Isle looked even more like a castle rising out of the sea. Not a trace of beach or natural rock was visible. There were only walls and windows, doors and a single desolate pier, jutting out into the harbour. The small ships did their best to avoid it.
Ahead of them and to the right, a huge wall ran along a section of the harbour front. Soldiers watched them from towers at either end. Enormous gates led to large slipways that ran right down into the water.
“The Imperial Shipyards,” said Zamara. “Most of our warships are built there. They are the greatest and most advanced in the world. King Aemon’s father ensured that it was so.” He spoke as if he had some stake in the armament works. Perhaps as a distant cousin of the King, he did.
Huge warehouses lined the water’s edge near the piers.
“Impressive town,” said Rhiana.
Frater Jonas gave a small shrug. “All the more so when you consider that less than a hundred years ago this was just a fishing village and a collection of First Empire ruins. Then the King-Emperor’s great grandfather made this place his capital. “
Rhiana said, “Port Blood is a great harbour but this makes it look like a village.”
Frater Jonas nodded and then said, “I would not mention your knowledge of Port Blood too often in this city, milady. There are those here who think the only good citizen of that place is a dead one.”
“Understood,” Rhiana said.
Tenements rose up the hillsides around the warehouses. Those were where the labourers dwelled. Most of the wealthy lived in the palaces and mansions that surrounded the base of the Palace Rock.
A gold-trimmed carriage waited for them at the docks. It showed the star and sea dragon emblem of Siderea on its side. A troop of tall cavalrymen in steel breastplates lined up to the front and rear of it. Their captain saluted Frater Jonas, then threw a less respectful salute at Zamara. He eyed Rhiana with a frank sexual interest and then his eyes widened as they came to rest on Kormak and the blade hanging over his shoulder.
Servants ushered them into the carriage. Once inside Frater Jonas relaxed. “It’s good to be home,” he said.
“You missed your little creature comforts aboard ship, did you?” Zamara asked.
Jonas smiled. “I fear that, proud citizen of Siderea though I am, I am a landlubber at heart.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” said Kormak.
“Spoken like a true son of mountain-girt Aquilea,” said Zamara.
“I like mountains,” said Kormak. “They never try to drown me.”
The carriage splashed through puddles left behind by last night’s storm. It moved past buildings whose plasterwork was dark with rain-damp. Horses’ hooves clopped as their escort moved into position and hustled the crowd out of the way. The people had a nervous starved look. They eyed the carriage with a mixture of envy and resentment that made Kormak think that all might not be well in the city of Trefal.
***
The carriage carried them up the side of Palace Rock. The road ran through street after street of fine houses. The view of the harbour stretched out below them as they gained height.
They swerved around a convoy of wagons under escort by soldiers in the livery of the Imperial House. Huge treasure chests filled the carts. Porters carried smaller containers on their brawny backs. The spoils from the treasure fleet were still making their way up to the palace.
Then the houses were gone, leaving only bare black rock as they performed the last leg of their journey to the Palace gates. These stood tall as the masts of a sailing ship. A carved sea dragon rose on either side. Between them they held a massive five pointed elder sign inlaid with sungold.
With the escort the carriage passed through unchallenged. They emerged into a large courtyard flanked by handsome buildings. The Palace was more like a small city on top of the cliff rather than a single structure. Servants rushed to greet the passengers as they clambered down.
Messengers came and went. Grandees in court costume drifted by in their peacock finery. They wore cloaks of the finest silk, dyed