Chapter 2

The desert man walked quickly away from the wagon, losing himself in the crowd of the market. He made his way across the Imperial city to an inn that catered to travelers from across the Empire. He strode through the common room, ignoring the rest of the patrons as they ignored him. That was the other reason he’d chosen this inn. It was known for housing a more discreet clientele.

He headed up the stairs to the room he had let on the second floor. He checked for the tell-tale he had left on the jamb and saw that it remained undisturbed. He took out a key and let himself in. His eyes scanned the room, confirming that it remained undisturbed since the last time he left it.

He crossed to the wooden chest where he’d unpacked his belongings. He opened it and withdrew a set of robes. They were blue, edged in silver, the traditional robes of an Imperial page. He quickly changed out of his traveling clothes into the robes, tucking his long black hair into a large felt cap. He placed the vial he had purchased from the apothecary into a small pocket inside the robe, then grabbed a large cloak and drew it around him. People at this inn might be discreet, but even they would notice an Imperial servant.

He let himself back out of the cramped room, locking the door, and replaced the tell-tale. He headed back into the city, heading in the direction of the Imperial palace. An hour later, he found himself nearing the main gates. He strode up and through them, just as the bells in the high tower chimed the seventh hour after noon.

There was an unusual amount of traffic passing through the gates at this hour, but this was an unusual night. After all, it was not every day that the Emperor celebrated the 1000^th Anniversary of the Empire.

He slowed his walk, looking around the palace parade grounds, ducking his head as he passed the assembled Lords and Ladies. This helped hide his complexion. Pages were a common sight around the palace and they tended to blend into the background. However, there were not many pages who were desert folk, so to avoid notice he kept his head bent. The presence of so much aristocracy made this submissive behavior seem normal.

He made his way to the west wall, heading around back towards the servant’s entrance. Pages were not allowed entry through the main doors of the palace. He arrived near the door to the scullery and paused. Two minutes later, the door opened and a man dressed like a chef strolled out and dumped out a large pot of dirty water.

The desert man spoke the pass phrase in High Katakan. “Abi boki alu merethil.”

The cook looked up at him and responded in the same language. “Abel etay kashe-il.”

The desert man reached into his robes, pulled out the small vial and passed it to the cook. He nodded quietly and turned back into the kitchen. The desert man reached back into his robes and pulled out a large sealed scroll. He turned and made his way back across the parade ground and out the gates. He grabbed his cloak from the alley where he left it and disappeared into the crowd.

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