199 - It's not *lad*, it's *semanakraseye*

We threaded the Hyerne islands to come into Pirai, the port, and then Thenai, the capital city of Hyerne. It sits on a not-quite-flat plain with sharp hills all around, and huddles close around the base of a great rock, on which the Hyerne have their citadel and capital. It has been a sacred place not only since the Fire, but twice again as far back in time, they claim, saying their land is not so much earth but the dust of layer upon layer of ancient buildings.

There is a great temple built of massive yellow stones, which the Hyerne have worked for centuries to rebuild correctly, and which won’t be done for centuries, they say. They can show you where the stone is five thousand years old and where it is from just before the Fire, joined seamlessly through some lost art. It is dedicated to their greatest Goddess, Theen, and they say it always was, and the city was named after her on its founding, and there was once a huge golden statue of her by the temple, back when it was an empire, ruled by women.

We came in around midnight. Neither I nor anyone else had any idea where in the city the Yeoli embassy was. The one thing I knew was that men aren’t allowed to carry weapons in Thenai, so I made my escort up of the eight women in the elite that Krero had brought plus my mothers, and left Chirel on the cormarenc. As we walked up the hill to the city, my shoulder itched.

There were a few people awake, looking furtive as people always seem to in a city late at night. The first thing I had to do was find someone who spoke Enchian. But those who I spoke to, all women, all stared at me, every one, as if my skin was green, and then waved me away rudely, saying things in Hyerne.

“Maybe we’ll do better if a woman asks,” my mother said. I acceded to that. They were much more polite to her, and we finally found one who spoke Enchian who told us the way.

The Yeoli embassy was a modest building in the Hyerne style, walls sloping slightly outward to a roof with a complex pattern of crossing wood pieces. Hyerne is very prone to earthquakes, so they’ve learned to build so as to withstand them, and this type of roof does this somehow. I tapped on the door, the way Yeolis do.

Someone inside said something in Hyerne which I imagined was probably “Just a moment!” and I heard bolts being unshot. The door opened to a geared-up Hyerne woman, large even for one of them (I think as a race they are kin to Srians, though they are only about half as dark, about the same as A-niah). Her eyes fixed on me, and just as I was starting to say in Enchian, “I must speak to the ambassador on urgent business,” she said, “Oh! Precious sweetheart. We’re closed; don’t you see how dark it is?”

“I do, beloved darling,” I said, “but I’d like to ask you to wake the ambassador up nonetheless, please. It’s a matter of sufficient importance.”

“Precious, I shouldn’t wake her for anything less than a war breaking out, you know.” She flashed her eyes at me, as if we were in a bedroom.

“The war I am coming about broke out more than a year ago,” I said, between my teeth. “Tell her... do you speak Yeoli at all?”

“Some.” Her face had turned piqued. “What’s it to you, rooster?”

I took a deep breath before I answered. It’s Hyerne, I reminded myself. Men are nothing here. I need only get a message to the ambassador; she was Yeoli, and Segiddis was more worldly than her citizens, as most royalty are.

I had intended, if she spoke no Yeoli, to teach her the word “semanakraseye,” to pass on to Cherao. But knowing some, she might understand it, and I didn’t want to give myself away to staff. “If you would be so civil,” I said, “tell her... the person for whom all Yeola-e is waiting is at her door and needs to speak to her right now.”

“The person for whom all Yeola-e is waiting?” Her brows rose high on her brow, and her eyes passed me, searching my guards. “Why isn’t she speaking for herself then?”

Of course they wouldn’t think it was me. “She is,” I said. “I mean, he is. I am. Can you please just pass that message on to the ambassador?”

“You?” Her arch look took on a touch of a smile. “You are delicious in a pale-skinned way, I must admit… but all Yeola-e, hmm?” She did as close to stroking my body from head to toes as can be done with only a pair of eyes. “Ahh, I get it. She didn’t tell me she ordered a pleasure-boy tonight, but maybe she forgot. You must be a high-priced one, with all those guards.” Her eyes turned to the oldest woman nearest, my blood-mother. “You should put a leash on this one, milaera, or maybe even a bit, until he learns to hold his tongue.”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t speak, every word going clean out of my mind. I pride myself on the fact that there are few times in my life when I didn’t know what to say. This was one of them.

My blood-mother strode out in front of me. “Look, Hyerne,” she said in the soft icy voice that I had heard only perhaps four or five times in my life, and dreaded more even than Esora-e’s rage. “Don’t you dare speak to my son that way. You work for an embassy, yes? You have some slight notion that foreign ways are different from Hyerne, yes? You have some tiny clue that a man can actually hold a position of importance? And that failing to recognize that he does can turn into a diplomatic incident?”

The guard shrank back, her eyes growing a little wider, with each sentence. “Milaera!” she said. “Milaeruipa! My sincere, abject apologies! I… I will notify the ambassador right away. Please, come in, sit, milaerani all, make yourselves at home and comfortable. I’ll have a boy bring refreshments right away!”

“Thank you,” my mother said haughtily. I turned to exchange looks of amazement with my guards. They were all wearing smirks, which fell off their faces as they saw my eyes.

The Hyerne guard led us into the embassy parlour with alacrity, then scurried away. From somewhere inside she snapped a command at someone. A Hyerne man wearing only the short version of the sleeveless, draping garment Hyerne people usually wear, dyed bright purple, big hoop-earrings of gold and paint to accentuate his eyes and lips like an Arkan whore, came out hastily and obsequiously with a tray of porcelain cups and a jug of juice. He was built more massively than most warriors, but kept bowing his head, and moved in a way that reminded me of the servants in the Marble Palace.

“I’m awake. I’m up. I’m here. What is it, so urgent?” A short round woman came in, blinking, still pulling on a light linen marya in the diplomat’s grey, blue and green. Her eyes found my blood-mother and my shadow-mother, the two oldest women, and couldn’t settle on which she should speak to.

I had never met her, only sent my letter of introduction just after I took office, and a few others on this or that business. “Cherao Shae-Moriha?” I said, standing to greet her. “Ambassador to Hyerne. I am pleased to meet you face to face.”

She blinked at me, confused. “Shh, lad, let whoever’s in charge talk. I can ask later where I know you from, because I know it’s somewhere.” Her eyes decided on my blood mother. “The urgent matter, kere?”

Now anger got the better of me. I could forgive a Hyerne, but Cherao was one of my own. “It’s not lad,” I snapped. “It’s semanakraseye. Look!” I tore open the top clasps of my shirt and bared the brand.

Her mouth dropped open. “Kahara! Semanakraseye… Chevenga? Oh… dear. Well… welcome! I, em, am sorry for the disrespect. I can’t say how good it is to see you. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you,” I said. “I need you to arrange an appointment for this pleasure-boy with Queen Segiddis as early as possible tomorrow—any chance of that?” One “ha” of a giggle burst out from behind me, but when I looked around all their faces were impassive.

At least Cherao had the decency to flush. “If it is urgent enough... well, just by it being you, it is. I might be able to get her for you before dawn. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately and will be up.”

“Not sleeping well? Why is that, do you know?” No information, as the saying goes, is bad. The obsequious muscleman was offering another round of juice to my guards, cocking his head, flashing his eyes, giving meaningful smiles. They all gave meaningful smiles back, even my mothers. I wanted to order them all back onto the ship double-time.

“She’s concerned about one of her wilder daughters who wants to take the fight to the Arkans, and a rival for her throne getting pushy,” said Cherao. “Internal politics.”

“I might want a meeting with that daughter, too. Pre-dawn is good, certainly.”

“Chevenga, you are still healing from that wound and you need your sleep,” my mother said. “Can it not be later? I’m Karani Aicheresa, by the way, Ambassador, his blood-mother.”

“I’ll be fi—”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Cherao said to her, right over me. “I know the Queen has some free time tomorrow evening. I’m pleased to meet you, Karani.” She shot me an affectionate glance. “Ah, males: always in a hurry.”

I remembered reading over the Hyerne dossier, back in my office in Assembly Palace. She’d been working in Hyerne for more than twenty years. Maybe too long.

“Pre-dawn is good,” I said, flashing a glance at my mother. “Yes, this male is absolutely in a hurry, while Arkans are killing his people on their own soil.” She shot me back a look that said, ‘you’re wounded!’ I’d unslung the arm and hidden the bandage under my shirt once we were away from Kaninjer; I didn’t want to show weakness when seeking allies. Mother, I thought, why must you be such a kyashin mother?

“Look, Karani, Chevenga: I’ll see what I can do.” A diplomat will generally find a diplomatic solution when she says that. I just had to hope it got me in early. “We have places enough to sleep as long as some of you don’t mind couches. If things need carrying I’ll lend you some staff. You should all certainly get well-rested while I do the diplomatic dance. If I happen not to be able to get a pre-dawn appointment, because the Queen is managing to sleep, I’ll tell my people not to wake you; how’s that?”

“Fine,” I said between my teeth, noting the pretext prepared and ready to use. “Excellent,” my mother said. Cherao acknowledged with a Hyerne-style dip of her head. We chose to sleep together in the parlour, some of us on bedrolls. The beefy man-harlot helped us with everything, doting on all of them, and seeming not to see, or plain turning his back, on me.

“All-Spirit,” I said to any of my guards who deigned to listen, once we were by ourselves in the room and bedding down. “I begin to understand how it is for Arkan women.”

“I’m sorry, love,” my mother said. “But we weren’t going to get anywhere, I could see, unless someone with breasts spoke up. And you do need your sleep, to heal as fast as possible. You could be in a fight anytime, now.”

“Chevenga, if you were a pleasure-boy,” said Theralao, “I’d pay a moon’s wages for you.” I pegged her full in the face with a cushion.

“And no slipping out and playing with that over-muscled, simpering... thing you have been offered,” I said. “Not when we might be awakened pre-dawn. That’s an order.” An order, I have to admit, it was a pleasure to give. The young ones all pouted at me.

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