scattered and isolated. Far Irusviruk—the Viruk nation from which the
ambassador had come—neither invited nor tolerated human interlopers. Peace between
the races, for the most part, reigned—though did so uneasily the further one got from the
Principalities.
Siatsi clearly had not missed the implications of the ambassador’s greeting. “The world is
a vast place. Not all that was lost can be discovered, and some things discovered may
never have been lost—such as the pleasure your presence brings to me. May your visit be
blessed, and the peace of the Festival yours to enjoy.”
The consort bobbed his head and again flashed teeth. Nirati felt he was no more used to
smiling than Ierariach was, but just enjoyed watching the human reaction to his grin. A
shiver descended her spine as a thin ribbon of spittle began to roll down over his jaw.
Fortunately, his thick black tongue licked it back before it could reach the floor.
The ambassador nodded. “We will enjoy your hospitality. Thank you.”
As they moved away, Siatsi took her daughter by the elbow. “Watch your brother when he
gets here and keep him away from the Viruk. The story that Jorim slew two warriors while
in Ummummorar is not unknown. I doubt anything will lead to violence this evening, but
Jorim would offer a duel if challenged.”
“But the ambassador wouldn’t . . .”
Her mother shook her head. “The Viruk have a very strong caste system. Her consort,
Rekarafi, is a warrior. And they will do anything to uphold the honor of the Viruk.”
“Why did Grandfather invite them?”
“Having the ancient ones here to venerate the anniversary of his birth feeds his ego.”
“But putting Jorim at risk . . .”
Siatsi raised a sculpted eyebrow. “It may not. It could be that Rekarafi would view the slain
Viruk as provincial barbarians, much as we see the wildmen in the Wastes. If we are
lucky, those slain were his enemies—but I do not wish to chance it. Remember, our Viruk
guests are not only old enough to remember the coming of the True Bloods, they likely
remember the fall of Virukadeen. Such long lives make them view us much as we would
sand midges—something we could swat without a second thought. And I don’t want Jorim
swatted.”
“Had you swatted him when he was a babe, he’d be less likely to cause trouble now.”
“And had I swatted you as a child, perhaps your tongue would not be so sharp.”
Nirati laughed. “I merely take after my mother.”
“And she will take after you if you do not perform this duty.” Siatsi sighed. “And be
watchful for other deviltry. Your grandfather has been in a foul mood, and I would not put
anything past him. Avert disaster where you see it.”
“Yes, Mother.” Nirati nodded toward the wine table. “Speaking of which, perhaps you wish
to see to Uncle Eoarch. That’s his third cup of wine in an hour. If he’s heard the Viruk
rumors, he’s likely to set up a duel just so he can wager on it.”
“Thank you.” Her mother kissed her softly on the cheek, then headed off to intercept her
brother.
Nirati watched her go, then turned to study the next guests arriving. A young woman
accompanied a man roughly twice her age and it took Nirati a moment to recognize her.
She would have done it faster, but the woman’s handsome escort distracted her. When
she saw who it was, she wished for a dozen more Viruk. Oh, Grandfather, you have been
causing trouble.
Nirati moved to cut them off as they entered. She let her voice drop to a frosty tone. “I had
not thought to see you here, Majiata. I would have thought you had some self-respect.”
Majiata began to answer, but her escort stopped her. “You will forgive me, please, for the
fault is mine. I am newly come here. The invitation from your grandfather was unexpected,
and it was suggested Lady Majiata might be free to attend.”
He spoke very precisely, and with a Desei accent. His purple silk overshirt had
ambassador had come—neither invited nor tolerated human interlopers. Peace between
the races, for the most part, reigned—though did so uneasily the further one got from the
Principalities.
Siatsi clearly had not missed the implications of the ambassador’s greeting. “The world is
a vast place. Not all that was lost can be discovered, and some things discovered may
never have been lost—such as the pleasure your presence brings to me. May your visit be
blessed, and the peace of the Festival yours to enjoy.”
The consort bobbed his head and again flashed teeth. Nirati felt he was no more used to
smiling than Ierariach was, but just enjoyed watching the human reaction to his grin. A
shiver descended her spine as a thin ribbon of spittle began to roll down over his jaw.
Fortunately, his thick black tongue licked it back before it could reach the floor.
The ambassador nodded. “We will enjoy your hospitality. Thank you.”
As they moved away, Siatsi took her daughter by the elbow. “Watch your brother when he
gets here and keep him away from the Viruk. The story that Jorim slew two warriors while
in Ummummorar is not unknown. I doubt anything will lead to violence this evening, but
Jorim would offer a duel if challenged.”
“But the ambassador wouldn’t . . .”
Her mother shook her head. “The Viruk have a very strong caste system. Her consort,
Rekarafi, is a warrior. And they will do anything to uphold the honor of the Viruk.”
“Why did Grandfather invite them?”
“Having the ancient ones here to venerate the anniversary of his birth feeds his ego.”
“But putting Jorim at risk . . .”
Siatsi raised a sculpted eyebrow. “It may not. It could be that Rekarafi would view the slain
Viruk as provincial barbarians, much as we see the wildmen in the Wastes. If we are
lucky, those slain were his enemies—but I do not wish to chance it. Remember, our Viruk
guests are not only old enough to remember the coming of the True Bloods, they likely
remember the fall of Virukadeen. Such long lives make them view us much as we would
sand midges—something we could swat without a second thought. And I don’t want Jorim
swatted.”
“Had you swatted him when he was a babe, he’d be less likely to cause trouble now.”
“And had I swatted you as a child, perhaps your tongue would not be so sharp.”
Nirati laughed. “I merely take after my mother.”
“And she will take after you if you do not perform this duty.” Siatsi sighed. “And be
watchful for other deviltry. Your grandfather has been in a foul mood, and I would not put
anything past him. Avert disaster where you see it.”
“Yes, Mother.” Nirati nodded toward the wine table. “Speaking of which, perhaps you wish
to see to Uncle Eoarch. That’s his third cup of wine in an hour. If he’s heard the Viruk
rumors, he’s likely to set up a duel just so he can wager on it.”
“Thank you.” Her mother kissed her softly on the cheek, then headed off to intercept her
brother.
Nirati watched her go, then turned to study the next guests arriving. A young woman
accompanied a man roughly twice her age and it took Nirati a moment to recognize her.
She would have done it faster, but the woman’s handsome escort distracted her. When
she saw who it was, she wished for a dozen more Viruk. Oh, Grandfather, you have been
causing trouble.
Nirati moved to cut them off as they entered. She let her voice drop to a frosty tone. “I had
not thought to see you here, Majiata. I would have thought you had some self-respect.”
Majiata began to answer, but her escort stopped her. “You will forgive me, please, for the
fault is mine. I am newly come here. The invitation from your grandfather was unexpected,
and it was suggested Lady Majiata might be free to attend.”
He spoke very precisely, and with a Desei accent. His purple silk overshirt had
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