The corpulent Mage-Imperator did not bother to lift a hand and made no move to take the potted treeling. He seemed uninterested in the trees. “I formally accept your gifts of the worldtrees. However, as you are experts and it seems you two will abide with us in Mijistra for some time, it is best that you keep possession of them. Tend the treelings as you would on your own world.”

Otema bowed, as did Nira. The ambassador straightened and met the gaze of the great Ildiran leader. “We have heard much about your Saga of Seven Suns, and we look forward to beginning our work. I understand that reading the entire epic requires a lifetime of study.”

“An Ildiran lifetime,” the Mage-Imperator said with a hint of smug amusement. “Humans have a briefer existence on the great stage of the galaxy.”

“Nevertheless,” Jora’h said, as if debating with his father, “in spite of their shorter lives, humans seem to accomplish much more than even our greatest heroes. Perhaps they have a greater sense of… urgency?”

“An interesting observation,” the Mage-Imperator said, almost growling. Abruptly, he clapped his hands with a loud sound that rang across the chamber. “Enough. See that they are acquainted with Rememberer Vao’sh. He will answer all their questions regarding the Saga.”

The Mage-Imperator turned his heavy-lidded gaze toward Nira, and he seemed to be analyzing her body, dissecting her. She felt a cold shiver at his intense yet bloodless scrutiny. What did he want from her?

“My son seems to have taken quite an interest in you. Both of you,” he quickly amended. “Jora’h will see to your every need.”

68: PRIME DESIGNATE JORA’H

68PRIME DESIGNATE JORA’H

The Mage-Imperator spent many of his waking hours in the skysphere reception hall listening to petitioners and speaking with his people. He held audiences at his whim, letting all pilgrims come to him. He preferred to be among his people, where he could sense their general problems through the thism’s vivid connection.

In other moods, though, the Mage-Imperator could not tolerate the adoration and hubbub. He withdrew to quiet chambers where he could contemplate in privacy the necessary requirements of state. He made no excuses for his behavior. He was the Mage-Imperator.

At such times, Prime Designate Jora’h was often summoned into his father’s presence so they could discuss the politics of the Empire. Jora’h was pleased to speak with him as son to father, eager to learn from the great man. Someday, he would do the same with his own noble-born son, Thor’h.

Jora’h arrived in the contemplation chamber after finishing a fine meal, energized and ready for deep conversation. The Prime Designate wore impeccable new clothing made from the fabrics of Theroc, gossamer cocoon weaves draped in loose folds around his chest, caught up with gem pins and golden buttons.