The tea room was almost a pavilion, at the end of a wing of the palace, at the top of a hill in the garden. The corridor leading to it had small windows high in the walls, letting in light, but difficult to see out of, so when I opened the doors, the contrast was dramatic. The three walls besides that one I came through were sliding screens, and all were open. One side fell away like a cliff, so seemed to open directly into the sky, and, far away, on the horizon, showed the sea. Another showed the garden. The third had mountains in the distance. The furniture was a large standing cabinet with maybe a hundred small drawers; an open cabinet of many cups, spoons, saucers and sandglasses; an enameled metal kettle resting on a metal tube over an alcohol flame; and four low square tables, each surrounded by four stools with armrests, or backless chairs, all made of richly carved, polished wood.
Three of the four women in the tea room were seated at one of the tables, which was slightly larger than the other three. The fourth was kneeling by it. Each woman was beautiful.
The eldest, clearly the empress, was perhaps slightly too tall for ideal beauty, and thin, which was valued in the Empire, unlike among the People. Her skin was golden like honey. Her smooth, unlined face and hands did not give away her age, it was her hair which did that, it was long, straight, and black, but streaked with white. She wore deep purple robes of a thick material that draped in straight lines over her figure, and platform shoes that would make her even taller when she stood. She was seated at the side of the tea table farthest from the door, so did not have to turn her head to look at me, just raise her eyes. She examined me slowly, letting no expression change her elegant face.
The elder princess was almost as tall, and also thin, with straight black hair, like her mother, but her skin was almost as pale as a northerner's. Her face had her mother's classical features, but did not fear to show expression. She was full of fire, and twisted her body on her chair to look me up and down. Her robes were the same purple but were thinner silk. Besides loose sleeves they were fitted to move with her, and to hint at her form, which was thin with small round breasts, the Empire ideal. Her shoes were boots with heels, not as tall as her mother's. She would be beautiful anywhere, but here, she would be a goddess.
The younger princess on the other side was shorter still, with lighter gold skin, between that of her sister and her mother, and shorter dark brown hair, unlike either. Her eyes were large and brown, like a doe's, and her face was round and animated, threatening to break into tears or laughter at any moment. Her robes were silk, cut almost as loosely as her mother's, but tighter around her chest as she turned, revealing that despite also being thin she was nearly as buxom as desired among the People. Her feet were in slippers.
The last woman was clearly the translator, kneeling barefoot on the floor besides the wooden stools of the other three. While also in silks, hers were pink wisps of barely anything, that clearly revealed her buxom curves. She would have been less erotic if she were naked. She was barefoot. If she were of the Empire she would have been cold, but she was of the People of the Open Sky, and even an Empire winter would have been a mild spring to us, so in this spring her skin was unmarked by goose pimples. I could see why Star was jealous and called her a whore. She was a bit underfed, Empire fashion, so did not have the round stomach, but otherwise she could have been the ideal of People beauty, with wavy brown hair, wide hips, and full breasts, her curves completely on display. Her face was painted in makeup, and yet more was visible on her body. She was slower than the others in turning to me, her large black eyes were unfocused, and her expression smiling and dreamy.
They looked at me as I looked at them, but spoke to each other in Imperial. "He is not the khan, his face and hands are scarred and his clothing is worn, torn, and covered with patches," said the younger princess. "He is not even a soldier, he does not wear a sword or armor. He is a servant and we can send him away until the great khan comes."
"He is far from home and passed through fire and steel before breaching the City of Heaven," said the older princess. "He did not wear satin and jewels to battle, and has had no time to care for his clothes, but they were finely made before they became heavily worn. Those are the marks of a sword belt and armor on his clothes, and those are the scars of years of battles on his face and hands. The patches are barbarian signs to show their clan and their rank, and I see many clans, but no rank among them. So he is not an officer, but he is an experienced advisor, so we shall ask him whether he has news when the great khan will see us."
"He knew that the woman who searched us took our daggers of honor, so he took off his sword to make us equal," said the empress. "He wears no sign of rank, because his rank has no sign, it did not exist before he created it. He wears the signs of all the clans because he is the one that united them into an army that could strike to the heart of the Empire of Heaven. He is the great khan, and we shall send the translator to greet him as our honored guest."
The empress looked at the older princess, who reached down to touch the translator's shoulder, and she stumbled to her bare feet, her breasts bouncing prettily. She walked towards me, smiled, and bowed deeply.
"Are you the great khan?" she asked in the Language of the People, then repeated in Imperial. It was slow and dreamlike.
"I am," I said.
She fell to the floor on her belly in a smooth practiced motion. "He is the great khan," she said in Imperial. The empress and princesses stood, then the princesses bowed. It was clear they were not used to doing so.
"This unworthy one is Polished Jewel, once of the People," the translator said in Language, still not looking up at me. "I have the honor of presenting Empress Flowing River, the Daughter of Heaven, Princess Brilliant Dawn, Granddaughter of Heaven, and Princess Glorious Sunshine, Granddaughter of Heaven." Then she repeated the same thing in Imperial.
I reached down and picked her up to stand her on her feet. Star was right, her skin was soft, and she had no muscles to speak of. She pulled her shoulders back so her breasts swayed. "Polished Jewel is not a name of the People," I said.
"I am not of the People any more. I have, many years, neither ridden a horse nor slept under the stars. I am Polished Jewel - I was selected among many from the northern ore, the rough stone was ground away, and the shine was brought out. Now I am a beautiful concubine of the Son of Heaven." It sounded like a speech she had made before. She translated what I said to Imperial before answering, then also translated her answer.
I held her by the chin to look at her face more closely. She looked up at me, and smiled dreamily. Her face was round, as in both the People and Empire beauty standard, but the makeup was unusually thick, even for the Empire style. There was more on the body, carefully matching the color of her skin, but I could tell the difference. I spat on a finger and rubbed an unusually puffy spot; under the makeup, the skin was black and purple, a recent bruise. It must have been tender, but she did not flinch, or change her dreamlike smile, instead she pressed into the touch.
"You've been beaten," I said. "By them?"
"Oh no," said Jewel. "The imperial ladies do not stoop to beat the likes of us in the harem. This was the other concubines. They heard the emperor was dead, the barbarians were invading, the world was ending. Someone had to pay, and there were only a few of the People in the harem, so they beat us. We fought back, but we were so few. If the empress had not thought this might happen, and that she might need us to translate, and sent her guards to stop them, they might have beaten us to death. As it is, I'm fine - a dab of makeup, a cup of Pain-free tea with my Passion Fire, and I'm good to love! That is, to translate. Both, I guess. As the great khan pleases." She giggled, and translated without the error.
"Pain-free tea with your Passion Fire?" I asked.
"Teas, they're special teas. The empress gave me Pain-free, it takes away the hurt. You know it's there, but it just doesn't matter any more. Everything is fluffy clouds. Passion Fire makes you ready for love, it makes men hard and women wet. We drink it in the harem for when the emperor comes to visit, so he doesn't have to wait for us to be ready for his penetration. Sometimes he even drinks it when he wants to make love again."
She translated as I spoke to the empress. "Why do you use a concubine to translate - is there no one else who speaks Language in the capital of the Empire?"
"Of course, great khan, the City of Heaven is the richest city that ever was. There are merchants, scholars, explorers, who speak all the languages of the world, and they are valuable for that. But our words will be of great importance, and must not be shared.
"As a warrior, you know that a severe wound must be bound so the person lives. But the bandages cannot be reused for clothing, since the blood will stain the cloth forever. They must be destroyed. So should we use precious silk when we can use cheaper linen, if each will staunch the bleeding equally well?
"She was a concubine of the Son of Heaven, and the Son of Heaven is no more. No lesser man can be permitted to know her, so she has no purpose. This way, the former concubine will pass with a purpose, and serve the Empire one last time."
I looked at Polished Jewel, whose dreamy expression did not change as she translated. "Did you understand what she said? Do you agree?"
She was resigned and smiling. "I serve. The empress's guards saved my life; she has the right to spend it. I will translate, and when she orders, I will die. It is not so bad; we all must die, and this way I will always be healthy and beautiful, rather than grow old and wrinkled."
She translated, then continued. "If I could be so bold, though, I would like to ask one boon of you, great khan. Would you love me before I die? I promise, I am very skilled. The concubines of the emperor are the best at all the arts of love, but I miss the touch of a man. There are many of us, and the Son of Heaven takes his turn, so he has not been with me for months. And you are the great khan - the greatest of the People! I would meet my ancestors and say that I loved both the emperor and the great khan. Not many would be able to say that."
I laughed as she translated. "Polished Jewel, you are still bold enough to be one of the People in your soul. I would be glad to. I promise, if you translate well, I will fuck you so you will scream in ecstasy."
She translated even this. The elder princess was shocked. "You would dishonor Father's memory?" Brilliant Dawn cried.
"I dishonored his body with my sword," I said.
The empress held up a hand before Dawn could reply furiously. Flowing River was impassive. "Of course. He was your enemy. Yet, would you, the great khan, know a woman another man had known before you? Would that not dishonor you?"
I smiled. "Know? Many women have fucked me, and not one has felt dishonored by the others. This obsession with virgins your Empire has is stupid; who wants to fuck someone who doesn't know what they are doing?"
The younger princess, Sunshine, spoke. "It is different for women. A woman knows her child is hers. A man can only be sure that his heir is his if he knows no other man has been with the mother." Everyone looked at her, and she flushed, and hid her face behind her sleeves.
"So, what is this matter that no one else can know of and live?" I asked.
"Please, great khan," said Empress River. "You are direct, as a warrior should be. But this is a matter of the Empire, and must be discussed in the way of the Empire. Can we sit and drink tea?"
I sat on the remaining backless chair. The empress and the younger princess sat. Jewel knelt. Princess Dawn measured tea leaves into four cups of china so thin that they were translucent, then poured boiling water into each, before setting them out before each place. She kept her eyes down the entire time. She selected, then set, one of a set of sandglasses in the center of the table. "It will take this long to steep for the ideal flavor," she said, and sat down at her place.
The smell that drifted up from the cups was amazing.
"This is Imperial Tea," the empress said. "It is a recipe handed down from Heaven. It is only for the emperor, his family, and those he chooses to drink it with. The penalty for any others drinking it, or attempting to make it, is death. We are sharing it with you, great khan. It is a secret blend of the finest teas from the kingdoms of the Empire, each exquisite, but combined in exacting proportions, it is unmatched. Travelers from different countries that have been honored with it have declared they could drink no other tea. One poet committed suicide after drinking it, because he wanted to die at the highest point of his life.
"While we wait for the tea to brew, please look out the sides of the pavilion. It is a clear day, so on this side, we can see across the distance to the mountains, beyond where is your home. To the other, on the distant horizon, the sea, where our ships travel to trade and fish. To the south, we see the fruitful plains. Just below us, the great City of Heaven, the largest city in the world. Like the Imperial Tea, the Empire of Heaven is a creation of man following the dictates of Heaven, for the ultimate perfection of a system of government. Until thirty years ago, the kingdoms that would become the Empire warred against each other, causing centuries of human misery. Then Heaven chose one man, the emperor, the Son of Heaven, to join the kingdoms under his rule. For thirty years, we have had peace. The people have flourished. The arts and sciences have advanced.
