Free Imperial Spy by Mark Robson Page B

was nothing like
Shandrim, where there were rich and poor in every quarter of the city. The poorer elements could often be seen travelling through the streets of the wealthy in the Shandese capital. The structure
of Mantor had advantages for maintaining order, though Femke found the arrangement alien and disturbing.
    Towards the top of the hill, Femke spotted three men walking into one of the larger dwellings. For an instant she could have sworn that the middle one of the three was Shalidar. A shiver went
through her before common sense began to reassert itself. The chances of Shalidar being here in Mantor and walking within sight of Femke were preposterously slim. The resemblance was remarkable,
but had to be coincidence. As the man and his associates slipped inside the building, Femke berated herself for being skittish.
    ‘Focus, Femke,’ she ordered herself sternly. ‘You haven’t time for foolishness.’
    When they reached the Palace there were the normal bureaucratic delays. Firstly, at the main gate the Royal Guards insisted on fetching the Captain before escorting them inside the Palace walls.
When they walked up the great steps Femke marvelled at the grand, columned frontage. The stone steps climbed between two rows of shaped ornamental shrubs, before passing under a line of huge Royal
banners that hung from horizontal flagpoles sticking out from the high rooftop.
    Before climbing the steps between the two central columns to the main doors, a backward glance rewarded her with an amazing view of the city spread below. Her wonder at this sight was
interrupted by an odiously formal, immaculately-dressed man named Krider, who met them at the doors. He quizzed Femke on the nature of her visit, before insisting the three small chests of gifts
from Emperor Surabar be emptied and thoroughly searched. These were then refilled and returned. Krider watched over every detail of this with hawk-like precision before directing other less senior
members of the Royal household staff to take Femke and her companions to suitable waiting rooms. Femke and the others took the opportunity to get cleaned up and to change from their travel clothing
into more formal wear for their audience with the King.
    The Shandese Ambassadorial party were not left alone for a second. At every step of the way from their entry into Mantor until they finally walked into the King’s audience chamber, someone
maintained a watch over them. Afterwards, Femke realised it was not the constant monitoring that bothered her, but that not one of the faces was smiling, or pleased to see her. The first time Femke
felt a hint of warmth was when she entered the King’s presence. But even then, the feeling was guarded.
    The Chief Butler, Veldan, escorted Femke and her three chosen gift-bearers to the King’s audience chamber. Veldan was cool in manner, but not hostile. To Veldan, Femke was simply another
person to introduce to his Majesty, the King.
    ‘May I present Lady Femke, Ambassador of Shandar, your Majesty,’ Veldan announced. The waiting was over and her stomach churned with nervous anticipation.
    I should not be nervous she told herself silently. I walk into Emperor Surabar’s study without a second thought. This is no different.
    It
was
different, of course, but Femke controlled her nerves and smiled with every ounce of friendliness that she could muster as she entered the King’s chamber. To her relief the
King smiled back with what looked to be a measure of genuine pleasure. King Malo was not alone and Femke took the opportunity to do a lightning scan of the room as she curtsied.
    ‘Welcome, Lady Femke. It’s always a pleasure to receive a
peaceful
emissary from our nearest neighbours. What brings you to my humble Kingdom?’ the King asked. His tone
was friendly, holding warmth blended with a tinge of irony.
    Femke studied his face, which looked benevolent and wise. King Malo wore his age well. His silver hair complemented his simple