A Secret Atlas by Michael A. Stackpole Read Free Book Online Page A

to leave the tower during the
    anniversary Festival and his own birthday celebration. The request seemed reasonable
    and Cyron would have been happy to grant it, save for the influx of people from the world
    over who had come, ostensibly, to rejoice in the dynasty’s longevity. His Master of
    Shadows had complained of the influx of spies during Festival, and Cyron could not
    chance exposing Qiro to kidnappers or assassins.
    Cyron found it highly unlikely that the Desei had traveled south with any intent to kill
    Qiro—or anyone else for that matter—but he would not have put it past Pyrust to make
    use of an opportunity. He could have dreamed up any number of plots that he seeks to put
    in play. To limit their ability to cause trouble, he’d made room for Pyrust’s entourage in Shirikun, at the city’s northern edge.
    Likewise the people from Erumvirine to the south had been housed in Quunkun, and the
    envoys from the Five Princes nations had taken up residence in the towers corresponding
    to their patron deity. Kojaikun—the tower of the Dog—served as no one’s official
    residence since Helosunde was still subject to Deseirion conquest and Helosunde’s
    Council of Ministers had yet to select a prince. Cyron still allowed his Keru warriors to
    station an honor guard there. It made the Keru happy and would discomfit Prince Pyrust.
    Most of the preparations had been carried out by protocol ministers and their attendants,
    with the Prince only nominally overseeing things. The honor guard had been posted by
    direct order, since the bureaucrats and astrologers had deemed it improper. They
    explained to him about occlusions in the heavens and Kojai’s power waning, but he had
    little tolerance for their explanations and overruled them.
    The bureaucrats sought to placate heaven, hell, and earth, while the Prince focused far
    more on earth. The conflict between Deseirion and Helosunde had less to do with
    constellations and gods than Helosunde’s first prince having been born of a woman from
    Deseirion. She had urged her son to take her home province as the first step to becoming
    the new Emperor, and war had simmered on that border long before Pyrust and his father
    had successfully invaded. But for Naleni support of the Helosundian mercenaries, the
    Desei consolidation of their conquest would have been completed long since.
    Politically it made good sense to placate the Helosundians, since their province served as
    a buffer between Deseirion and Nalenyr. But Cyron also just liked annoying Pyrust. He
    hoped his northern neighbor’s discomfort would manifest in more of the prophetic dreams
    the Desei prince believed in, distracting him from any true deviltry.
    A protocol minister could have delivered a refusal of Qiro’s request, but the Prince
    overruled that as well. First, Cyron was aware that the minister likely would never make it
    to Qiro’s presence, and certainly would wilt beneath the heat of the cartographer’s
    reaction. More importantly, however, the Prince felt that, as Qiro’s jailer, it was up to him
    to deliver the rejection personally.
    The doors in the small rotunda where the Prince waited cracked open, and a small, bent
    man shuffled through them. His face lit up with a smile, and he raised his head as much
    as his twisted back would allow. “Highness, nine thousand pardons for keeping you
    waiting.”
    The Prince bowed deeply and respectfully. “You honor me, Ulan, by fetching me yourself.
    Your work is far too important for you to be dispatched on such a trivial task.” Cyron
    purposely refrained from using the imperial “we,” though his rank all but demanded it. As it
    was, Ulan would natter on about how familiar the Prince was with him, and Qiro would see
    the deference as befitting his status.
    Ulan blew a long wisp of white hair from his face. “The pleasure is mine, Highness. My
    brother said whichever of us produced the cleanest chart of Tirat would have this honor,
    and I was not