The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1. Андрей Кочетков
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to his friend’s words the way he ought to.
The fresh air on the balcony refreshed him, and the vast expanse of greenery seemed to call him to the shores of some unknown country. Only now did Uni begin to feel the difference between the narrow world he had always inhabited and the fantastic opportunities that had suddenly landed in his lap.
He turned back to his friend. “Don’t be offended, Dag. You see, it’s only my body that is here in Herandia. My heart is already there, over the seas. Just imagine that you’ve spent years studying what seems like nonsense – at least that’s what everyone would have me believe – when suddenly the laughter stops and you fly from the archive basement like a bird, rising to the Sun! I’m going to see with my own eyes the land that I’ve learned about in old manuscripts! It’s a fairy-tale. A miracle! I feel like someone hit me in the head with a log. Even without wine, I’m drunker than ten thousand sailors!”
Vandey scowled and looked away. When he turned back, there was an unpleasant smile on his face. “You’re such a child, Uni! I’ll wait until you return from your trip. We can talk again then. You’ll see the world outside of your archive, and maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” He patted his friend on the shoulder and led him back inside to the world of idle merriment that he so despised.
When they returned to the table, the political philosophers found their friends deep in their cups and very far from such matters as universal brotherhood and justice. Uni and Vandey discovered they had made a fatal mistake during their fervent discussion: they had missed the main course, which was the whole reason for coming to the Sleepy Fish. Neither of them showed much disappointment, however. Vandey no longer made any attempt to disguise his revulsion at the immoderate feasting, and Uni suddenly felt that his stomach could not take any more contributions that evening, even those of the most elegant variety. He poked his fork at the marinated eels that encircled a giant egg made of Ulinian rice before resting his chin on his hand and observing his friends, who displayed much greater enthusiasm as they devoured the delicacies placed before them. Sorgius was handing around some kind of long, green leaves stuffed with a sticky, white substance.
“Try it, my dear. I’m sure you’ll like it,” he said as he handed one of those mystery tubes to his companion. The young woman gingerly took the leaf and tried a tiny bite. Sorgius gleefully mimicked her movements, turning them into something that looked much more intimate. Not bothered a bit by the humor, his girlfriend ate half of the strange leafy tube.
“What are these things, anyway?” asked Vordius as he ate his third one.
“My friend, this is the most elegant dish of the season, a combination of the culinary traditions of two sworn enemies: the Unguru and the Arincils.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense. I’m not interested in geography, and I suspect there’s something not quite right here.”
“Oh no, it’s all quite right. What you’re eating is a pâté made from the heart of a newborn lacrobus mixed with the milk of makabu caterpillars and all wrapped in grape leaves. The leaves are domestic, however, because the leaves called for in the original recipe would cause gastric distress among the people of our Empire.”
Sorgius’ explanation was cut short by an unexpected protest from Luvia, whose gentle nature could not bear the thought of violence against an adorable animal.
“The poor lacrobus! They’re so sweet and helpless – how could anyone possibly kill one!”
The others put their leaves down one by one. Sorgius, who had until then been the life of the party, struck up a private conversation with his girlfriend. Vordius comforted Luvia, Uni lost himself in daydreams, and Dag Vandey looked like he had just discovered one more reason to expose the bloodthirsty Herandian Empire. He was the first to leave, with the excuse that he had the farthest to travel to get home.
Sorgius’ girlfriend, likewise, seemed tired of the party and the endless toasts in honor of people she barely knew. She pursed her lips and turned away from the table making it clear to her beau that she would prefer to continue the evening somewhere more private.
“I’m afraid we must be going, too!” said Vordius, once the redhead had gotten her way. “Would you like us to walk you home?” He felt responsible for getting Uni home to his loving, but strict, mother.
“Do I have a choice?” the young diplomat grumbled, and the threesome found themselves outside in the empty streets, where the shadows of the oil lamps flickered and seemed to flee from them as they approached.
Strolling around town at night was not, generally, a good idea. While residential areas like Trikazinso were well-guarded, even the wealthy were drawn to the many taverns and pubs scattered around the city. The Sleepy Fish was almost in the very center of Enteveria, but it was divided from the good neighborhoods by the ravine and the artisans’ quarter. Here, the perfectly square city blocks gave way in the face of nature, and Uni and his friends had to go a long way around to get home.
“We should have taken a carriage,” Uni remarked.
“You ate too much!” Vordius said with a grin. Suddenly, he stopped short. His friend was turning white.
“I’m sick,” Uni managed to moan before lead weights seemed to attach themselves to his arms, legs and neck, and there was nothing for him to do but fall to the ground.
“Demons take me!” Vordius cried as he bent over his friend, helpless.
Luvia knelt and put a hand on Uni’s forehead. “He’s as cold as ice!” she whispered.
“Stay with him. I’ll be right back!” Vordius shouted over his shoulder as he ran back towards the Fish, where hired carriages and litter bearers usually stood waiting. They charged outrageous prices because of the perceived wealth of the tavern’s patrons, but Vordius wasn’t thinking about money.
Chapter 7. You Can Never Just Leave
When Uni opened his eyes, the world seemed to be some place above him. He felt like he was buried deep under a pile of sand at the bottom of a monster jug of some kind. He was barely able to poke his head out of the sand, and his ears strained to pick up the alarming sounds coming from somewhere outside the jug.
“I think he’s awake,” Luvia murmured.
“Blessed be the healing Sun, most generous giver of life!” Vordius burst out.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. Uni felt like the pile of sand was leaning and leaning, pouring and pouring into a sinkhole somewhere on his left. Terrified that he would be sucked into the sinkhole with the sand, he grabbed at the edges of the jug, but his arms were still leaden and refused to obey him.
“Lie still!” said Luvia, brushing her fingers across Uni’s forehead.
The jug started to crack, and pieces began falling away from him. The room around him began to look like its usual self.
An unfamiliar male voice somewhere in the distance pronounced that he needed to drink something.
“Let me do it, father,” someone said, and gentle hands brought a cup of something bitter and herbal to Uni’s lips. “Help him sit up a little,” Luvia told Vordius.
Vordius complied immediately, and Uni felt his lips curl in something like a smile.
If I’m drinking something, I must be alive! he thought ruefully.
“I’m surprised he survived,” Septinel Tokto’s elegant baritone shook, betraying his concern as a physician and his amazement as one of the most important members of his profession in the Empire who had seen almost everything in his time. “With cistrusa poisoning, if the patient isn’t given the antidote before he loses consciousness, nine times out of ten he won’t pull through. And that’s if the patient is a warrior. I only know of one man who had cistrusa poisoning and still walks the earth.”
“Who was that?” Uni asked in a weak voice. Until he heard his own voice he hadn’t been sure he could speak. It was only then, eyes wide in fear, that he