18 -- Dinner at Feliras's Glory

Once I had my skates back on, and my Mahid as well, I led the way up towards the Lion’s Bridge, slower this time because my start wasn’t as easy from the fessas thoroughfare as the shallow hill from the Mezem. By the time my little train of chairs reached the Rejin of Heroes on the Avenue of Statuary bordering the solas quarter we were moving fast enough that Raikas was laughing again. There were enough people throwing water around by now that I couldn’t go very fast. When the water-fights truly started, after dinner, I would be in the Marble Palace. Safely, my father would say. No one dared to fling water at me or my Mahid, even though they should be safe enough to do so. It was the last Diem today and the edges of propriety were starting to come back as people scoured the whole city down. Tonight, at the last stroke of midnight, my father would come out onto the Presence Balcony and pour out The First Libation of the year signaling the end of Jitz.

People were climbing over most of the statues along the Avenue with soapy brushes, polishing the glowing faces of heroes or gods, scrubbing the fangs and claws of the mythical beasts and in some cases each other. The soap glistened on the parti-coloured stone or splattered across the whole street, making the white marble look dull.

Feliras’s Glory was certainly nothing like the little Puckered Fig. Years ago, Feliras Abalas, Aitzas, had won a tiny piece of land from a lawsuit of some kind. It was a space no more than a dozen paces across jammed between the outer wall of the University and an exclusive art shop, right on the edge of Presentation Square, that everyone said was too small to build anything on.

Feliras built a tower. He spent the money to have a water-driven lefaetas built into it and once above the walls and buildings his tower flared elegantly into a glass topped overlook where one could eat with a glorious view of the city no matter which table one had.

The chair-waiting space here was under an elegant old chestnut tree that only gave glimpses of the tower glittering so high above and I had my skates taken off, Joras giving me the soft shoes he had folded away at his belt. It was odd to see the Mahid watching, sensing their surprise when I tossed the lead chair bearers tokens personally, as Raikas and Skorsas alighted.

The lefaetas had enough cushioned seats for more than just the five of us plus the attendant who worked it. “We’re going up to eat at Feliras’s Glory, Raikas. It's up there.” I pointed up as though he could see through the closed ceiling as he sat down beside me. Neither Skorsas nor my guard sat.

“But are we not going to climb stairs if it is?”

I hid my smile. An enclosed lefaetas doesn’t look at all like the big open ones moving up and down the cliffs. “Just wait.”

The attendant rang his bell and closed the ivory wood doors and then the inner doors that were carved into a low relief of a chestnut tree. He turned the circular lever, arranged so as not to impinge on any customer. Raikas tensed as it gave its usual tiny lurch and started up, but relaxed and looked intrigued as we rose. It was a very, very smooth ride. Almost as smooth as the Marble Palace lift.

When I stepped out I saw that Kurinsas was host master today. He bowed from his raised chair, stepping down to show me, and my guests, across the room. I could see someone being moved away from my favourite table, the one that looked out over the square. The attendant would have called up the speaking tube before we came up. “This is my favourite. Not a rootcrisps kind of place.” Skorsas was looking around as though he were drinking the atmosphere.

Raikas gazed at the tables covered in white and gold cloths, crystal dishes and glasses. “No, I guess not.” Against all of the sunlight pouring in and the white and gold, his black and scarlet, with the artistically slashed shirt showing the flash of muscular torso, he shone. It was strange but he shone with darkness and I still thought he was the brightest thing in the room.

On the way across the room I nodded at some of the Aitzas men who rose from their seats at tables along the way, rose to bow at me. “Yes, hello. Yes, good Jitzmitthra. Yes. Yes. Hello, Bibias, your son is serving me very well. Yes.”

The air was fragrant with the aromas from the kitchen, along with the savoury incense burned to Mikas underlying it all, along with the flowers and faint perfumes.

Kurinsas held my chair for me. I raised my head so he could tuck the neck edge of the table cloth under my chin. Then he seated both Raikas and Skorsas, as my Mahid stepped back to their usual places between the windows next to me, careful not to impede my views. Raikas looked at the sword rack the host master offered him, so he wouldn’t have to sit and eat, armed. It slotted neatly in beside his chair.

The servants held the menus for us and I just glanced at it. I knew what was on it already. The wash slave presented the clear glass bowl full of warm water… other people would actually remove their gloves to have their hands washed. I just held out my hands and one slave washed my hands, the other smoothed the cool cloth around my mouth.

Raikas watched and offered his hands to them after they’d finished with me and actually said thank you to them as though they were real people. I could see how happy Skorsas was, just being allowed to a simple meal. I put that thought away for later, along with all the other things I had learned about politesse towards lower castes.

“Try the golden tailed fish perhaps for the fish course. It’s in a citrus sauce and is very good.”

Raikas turned to me, his motion slowed by the cloth tucked into his collar. “I have no idea of fancy Arkan fare… if you order for me, I’ll eat it.”

And Skorsas, glancing at the menu, and then away, nodded. “This lowly one as well,” he whispered.

That was interesting. “I’ll have the blue-claw morsels for first bites, the golden tail for fish and the beef medallions, rare. Raikas will have the garlic seashells, the Sheeha fish – “ I waved at a glass tank we passed near the lift door, full of glittering little rainbows – “Bigger than those… and sweeter too. And for main… the beeflet crown roast.”

I glanced at the boy. “He’ll have the black roe toasts, swordfish skewers with the red sauce and –“ I turned to Skorsas… “How do you like your steak, fessas?”

He blinked, surprised I should ask. “Ummm, this lowly one… half-rare? Please?”

“ – he’ll have the taubone steak half-rare.”

“Of course, Spark of the Son’s Ray. Might I suggest the Upland Vines Blue for the first course, the Marsaen Shar White for the fish and a Brahvnikian Ro for the meat course?” Kurinsas was a third Aitzas son and so could presume to speak to me so.

“Yes, that sounds good. A white icewine to accompany the dessert… you pick it.”

“Of course, Spark of the Sun’s Ray.”

Joras went with him to the kitchen where he would taste my food and accompany it to the table, once tasted.

“Your food will probably come first. I give you leave to start without me.”

Raikas looked quizzical. “Why will your food be later?”

“I have to have it tasted.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “And you have to wait and see if there’s any effect on your taster.”

The whet-your-mouth snacks arrived in tiny silver bowls, along with the white bread cubes skewered so you could dip the cubes into the oil and vinegar mix one at a time.

I waved the two of them to begin. “How has he been behaving for you, fessas?”

Skorsas swallowed his bread quickly to answer me. “He…? Oh, Spark of the Sun’s Ray, he is exemplary in every aspect.”

I smiled a little. “He seemed very feisty in the Hall of Testing.”

“Oh, he has a few rough spots, as a barbarian cannot help, after all, until he has some remedial training. The modest ones of the Mezem are smoothing them out nicely.”

I nodded and played with my fork. “Good for you.” The chill soup came out, a different one every day; today it was watersquash and mint.

Joras obviously approved it for me, for he stepped into the door and nodded to me as the servant carried my bowl out. He stood in the door so he could keep an eye on both kitchen and servant. I dipped my spoon, turned it upside down and licked the cold soup off the bottom of it.

“This one thanks your magnificent self, Spark of the Sun’s Ray.”

“Raikas,” I waved my licked spoon at the square visible below. “That’s the Temple down there, on that side. Have you seen it yet?”

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t seen anything in the city yet, except what you’ve showed me, and I’m grateful for you taking me out.”

“That’s okay. That’s Ten Angels fountain down there, and we’re at the same height here as the Glass Eagle.” I pointed out the statue on top of its column, the wide-spread wings glittering over its golden-twig nest and jeweled eggs. “But we’re outside throwing range. Someone gets arrested every few years for trying to hit it with a brick or a rock.”

Raikas looked puzzled again and a little angry. “Why would anyone try to damage it?”

I shrugged and scraped my bowl down with my spoon, catching the last flecks of mint. “I don’t know. People get mad maybe?”

“Hm. I can see why a sacking army might want to do that but the people who live here?”

“Maybe they see the Eagle as the authority I guess? I never thought about it before.”

“The authority? Why hate that?”

Skorsas was eating and watching him talk to me, nervous. Probably worried I would take exception to him talking to me in his easy way.

“We can talk about it later. So, you liked the skates?”

I could see that some of the Aitzas around us were craning to hear, it was possible they spoke Enchian and could understand us. “I’d like to try a pair myself,” he said. “We do something similar in Yeoli, but only on frozen water.”

I tried to imagine the wheeled skates on ice and couldn’t, but he continued before I could ask. “The boots have things on them like knife blades. Most people use bone or wood but the really expensive ones are metal. They cut into the ice a tiny bit so you don’t slide sideways.”

“I’d like to try that.”

He grinned at me. “I don’t know which is faster though, this or the ice boots, nor how you’d set up a race to prove it! But I can glide that way, and this looks similar. I’ll bet I could do this too.”

His and his boy’s fish had arrived and I still waited for mine. That was typical. One of the restaurant’s servants sat to one side and tasted my wine for me, even when the bottle was brought sealed to the table. Some poisons could be added through a seal with a needle and the hole would be unnoticeable. But I sipped the glass I had had poured before.

“You could time it!” I said, still thinking about the race between ice and faib skates.

“If you got the same person to do both over similar distance… and with the same timer that would be a good test.” He tried the fish and the taste made him smile. “The chair carriers’ boots were different from the ones you and your guard wore.”

“Oh, that’s because they’re faibalitz skates. That’s a game played with a flat disc about this big." I showed with my hands. "And on a smooth floor… the one in the Marble Palace is made out of ancient steel.”

He looked a little skeptical. “A whole floor made of metal?”

“I can show you later. There’s five players on a team, with two lead players, two back players and one goal defender who has a catch paw.”

“Only one catch -- paw did you say? Not one on each hand?” Raikas’s knife work on the beef was interesting to watch. He had a delicate touch.

“No, just a blocking pad on the left hand and forearm.” His face was a study as he put the combination of the beef and the three-type gravy into his mouth. “You like the meat.”

“I didn’t know it would be so tender. At home I eat very little beef.”

“Mostly mutton, I’ve been taught. Isn’t that kind of strong tasting?”

He smiled and took another bite, alternating with the caramelized-crusted paprika creamed potatoes. “Not really. Lamb is milder. There’s a recipe where cooks bury a crock of meat in the ground for a week, but I don’t think you’d like it.”

I giggled. “I’d try it if it grows men like you.”

“I actually didn’t like it much myself. But I’m getting a taste for Arkan food.”

“I’m glad.”

“So the goal keeper has a catch paw and a forearm pad," he went back to the description of the game. "Do any of the other players wear padding or armour?”

“Not in the High League. For the Imperator’s Cup finals there are usually injuries. Usually those happen if they’re playing against the Mahid team.”

“Imagine that,” he said. I grinned at him as he leaned his elbows on the table, interested, but dropping his gaze down to the bright green vegetable for a second, clearly torn between paying attention to the food and paying attention to me. He didn’t comment any further but I saw his look flicker over to Joras and Idiesas, standing like white columns between the windows. Even though it was still Jitzmitthra, and they were supposed to still be acting like normal people, they were reverting to their usual dangerous snake-stillness. I suppose it was close enough to the end of the yearly madness that they felt it to be acceptable.

“There are three lines painted on the floor, two far lines and a mid line.” I continued, dipping my finger into a drop of gravy and sketching it all out on the snowy white tablecloth. “The leads cannot pass their opponent’s far line -- some people call it the shot line -- and the backs may not cross the midline.”

“Only the player with the disc in his hands may be touched. It encourages passing.” This wasn’t discouraging people from listening, most of these Aitzas either watched, played or owned teams. “The goal is a slot three hand-spans deep and an arm-length long, and the first goal does not count except to ‘open the goal’.”

I leaned back and the slave cleaned my mouth for me with another cool, damp cloth. “There’s an outdoor version with more players on a smooth stone floor, the Petty League. Mostly solas play with used equipment bought from the High League, and a barefoot game that fessas and okas play on grass.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I’ll bet you’d be good.”

The servants wheeled the dessert display over to my table. There were mélange lemon cakes with poppycream ice, chocolate foam berry cups, silver leaf fanilas truffles, gold leaf chocolate saekrberk truffles. Raikas picked an assortment of the truffles and Skorsas the chocolate foam. I looked it over and picked the lemon cake. I sat and looked at the piece of cake till Joras nodded and I could pick up my fork. Since I was later than my guests, they served kaf to Skorsas and even had the vile leaves for Yeoli tea for Raikas while I finished up. When I put my fork down and pushed my plate away, the slave untucked the cloth from around my neck and cleaned my mouth with the edge. I turned to Skorsas while he was doing that.

“Fessas, I’m certain you can find your own way back to the Mezem. I’ll send Raikas back after I’ve showed him the steel floor in the Marble Palace.”

“This lowly one hears and obeys, Spark of the Sun’s Ray.” Skorsas bowed as I got up, set his cup down, and rose as well.

“How’s the leg, Raikas?” He rose as I did.

“Sore, but I’m all right.”

“Kurinsas, put that on my bill as usual.”

“Of course, Spark of the Sun’s Ray.”

“—oh, and give the staff a small bonus as well on that. I approve a silver chain’s worth. I was very pleased with the service today.”

“I… of course, Spark of the Sun’s Ray.”

Raikas couldn’t understand more than a few words but he seemed to understand that I had followed his advice again about being polite. I sniffed and pushed my nose into the air as I flounced rudely past the host master, and caught a flicker of one of Raikas's eyelids in the ghost of a wink.

Across the square I looked up at the scaffolding of a new statue being raised. Since it was a holiday there was no one working on it.

“There’s a new statue commissioned by my father. That’s Him when He was young, leading the coup against my grandfather.”

“Ah.” Raikas stopped and looked up at the partly hidden marble.

“You can’t really see it, yet, but that was when He could actually wield the Imperial sword, once He took it.”

“He can’t anymore? Why not?”

“Oh He’s past all that warrior nonsense, He says. That’s for younger, slimmer men. It’s a lot of hard work, He says.”

The gladiator nodded thoughtfully, his limp barely noticeable. My Mahid commanded an okas boy to put down his water bucket and carry all three sets of faib skates as they walked behind Raikas and I.

That was only to the Steel Gate and they ordered him off again as they saw me and Raikas up the stairs, turning away to the Black Gate to one side.