They walked slowly, and he kept his expression neutral and made little gestures at plants and trays as if explaining the place to a newcomer.
“No, I came here seeking someone who was captured.”
“The Queen of Atabyrion, perhaps?” he asked, giving her a broad smile.
“Indeed. Do you know where she is?”
“She is on the upper levels.” He gestured upward. “I will show you where. First, I must thank you for what you did for me and for my daughter. Somehow, I have not fallen sway to the emperor’s magic. Mayhap it is because I’m Fountain-blessed, as I told you, but when Gahalatine arrived at Chandleer Oasis, I felt him use his power on me. It didn’t work the first time. I’ve since seen him use it on others who are Fountain-blessed, and it’s completely overruled their minds. The same has happened to me since then. So I have deduced that perhaps it had something to do with you.” He glanced around furtively, looking to see if anyone had noticed them yet. “I learned of your escape after I was taken to the Forbidden Court. I was thankful to hear that my daughter wouldn’t be held hostage for my good behavior.”
He clasped his hands behind his back as they stopped at a tray laden with small fruit slices. “Try some of this one, my dear. It is quite impressive.” He took a slice and bit into it himself, but then continued his story in an undertone. “When Gahalatine returned after you thwarted him, he brought me to a private interview. I thought I was a dead man. He asked me pointed questions. I gave him pointed answers. I told him what I’d done—how I’d written to the Queen of Ceredigion for help. I said that someone from court had come to help bring my daughter to safety. He asked who you were and I told him the truth, Lady Tryneowy. And because I told him the truth, he has rewarded me extensively.”
He gave her a serious look. “We do not have much time, so I will tell you what I can. The emperor has put me in charge of the construction and running of his palaces. It is a position far vaster than what I held in Chandleer. He heard of my reputation and sought me out to serve him. I meet in private council with Gahalatine regularly. Because I have continued to speak honestly with him, he has begun to trust me. Lady Tryneowy, I have been brutally honest with him regarding his situation. His expenditures have far exceeded his income and his resources. The treasury is nearly barren. He commissions new projects with no ability to fund them. The fleet of treasure ships has stripped his land of wood and trees, which will require another generation to replenish. Only his continued success in subjugating other kingdoms has allowed him to continue. If he fails to conquer Kingfountain, there will be a revolt inside his own empire when he can no longer pay the tributes his people have grown accustomed to. This empire that he’s built is an illusion of power, though it may yet work—for if enemies believe in his power, they will continue to yield.”
Sunilik shook his head. “We have all been persuaded that Gahalatine is unstoppable. But it is not true. His success is also his greatest weakness.”
Trynne’s ears burned eagerly. The news was vastly important. And not only because it confirmed what she had suspected. “And you have learned this for yourself?”
Sunilik nodded. “I have spoken to the various treasurers. They do not speak to each other. No one else knows how precarious the situation is, I think. Well, no one except for the Wizrs. There has been a power struggle between Gahalatine and the Wizrs of Chandigarl ever since he claimed the throne and usurped authority over the empire. While he controls the army, they still control the finances. But the Wizrs want to wrest the power back from him. They have employed the Mandaryn to look for a bride that they can control. He’s been given an ultimatum to choose a bride and sire an heir or one will be chosen for him. The leader of the Mandaryn is a Wizr named Rucrius.” Sunilik’s eyes glittered with enmity.
Looking past Sunilik’s shoulder, Trynne spied a man with a silver mask approaching them swiftly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The High Tower
“And these Mandaryn wear silver masks?” Trynne asked in a low voice, nodding subtly to Sunilik as she took a cluster of huge purple grapes from the tray of fruit.
Beads of sweat popped on Sunilik’s brow. “Yes, in fact. They do.” He turned just as the man drew near.
“I must speak with you,” the man said in a curt, angry voice. His only greeting to Trynne was a dismissive jerk of his neck. “You have an audience coming up soon with Gahalatine over the palace enlargement project he intends to begin. What will you advise him?”