The Wings of Ashtaroth

Chapter 2: Strangers: Section III: Iridescia

Iridescia: Indas: Ipsis: The Court on the Hill

Iridescia squatted low between two potted palms, hoping the green and yellow ribbons woven through her hair would help her blend into the foliage as she spied on Indas's royal court. While she crouched, head down, her long, heavy braids slid in front of her right eye, obscuring her view of the nobles standing with their backs to her twenty feet away. She flicked her hand up, swatting her braids behind her ear. She should get Roewyn to cut them shorter next time, maybe even shear them down so she was bald on both sides of her head and not just one. It was no good blending in with the palms if the beads in her hair clacked together so loud everyone could hear her.

The grownups didn't turn and look her way, though. Even if they did, the guards were far slower than Iridescia. She was small and quick, and they were big and clunky in their Lora armour.

Iridescia squinted as the evening sun shone into her eyes. The sunset cast a magenta hue over the whole court.

The courtroom at Ipsis was a splendid sight, no matter the weather. It was roofless so that blessed Adonen could watch over Indas's kings and judge their royal judgements from his palace in the clouds. Its circular walls were pillared with columns of veiny marble, decorated with ancient images of the Old Kingdom's pagan gods and godlike kings. A square pool lay nestled at the court's centre, filled with lilies and lotuses, concealing one of the court's more theatrical means of punishment: a bath of vicious eels. Liberio had told her the pool was a Lora invention, and that when he'd been a boy the water had only held fishes, but Iridescia liked to believe nymphs had swum there once upon a time.

Iridescia had never known a world when Indas had been free of Lora rule. Liberio's father, Governor Hadrianus, had been king in all but name since before Iridescia had been born eleven years ago. Like many palace orphans who'd survived the slaughter of their parents, Iridescia had been given a Lora name, but Iridescia was no orphan. She was the charge of Hadrianus's vizier—Iridescia's great-aunt Star. Star barely paid Iridescia any mind, leaving her to her own devices or to the guardianship of the palace slaves. Iridescia liked it that way.

When she was very, very little, Iridescia had wondered what her parents were like and dreamed them faces and smiles and names. Her father, she had decided, was an upright judge of the people and a loyal believer in Tanata and her miracles. Iridescia's mother was kind and warm, with a shy, soothing voice. Her name was Moniqa like King Melqan's daughter, and she told stories by the riverside when the waters of the Waoidat swelled to overflowing and the children of Ipsis paddled along its muddy banks.

The dreams seemed childish now, but Iridescia kept account of them in a heap of papyrus scribblings in her chamber. A history was a history, even if it was made up. All history was just stories anyway, and since Star refused to tell Iridescia anything about their past, Iridescia may as well tell it to herself.

Iridescia's knees were starting to cramp, and since none of the guards were doing a proper job of guarding, she plunked onto the floor, wiggling her toes in their reed-woven sandals to wake them up. She tugged on one of her braids, twisting it round and round while she waited for the adults to say something interesting.

Far at the head of the room, Governor Hadrianus presided over the court with Star looming behind his reed throne. Liberio slouched beside his father in a smaller reed chair, even though he was a twenty year-old adult, and even Iridescia wouldn't sit that way. A metal mask hid half his face, which was olive-skinned, like most Lora people seemed to be. His wine-red hair tumbled to his shoulders in waves. He was short and stocky with muscle, draped in a trim white tunic with a red cape attached by brooches.

Hadrianus towered over his son, his own red hair peppered with grey and white. He had a bit of a flat face for a Loran, but he wore Lora armour, despite the sweltering heat, and he grinned all the time, like he was always in a good mood.