The Singer's Crown Read Online Free

here; we could show that wizard.”
    â€œA legend,” Jordan snapped, “no more.”
    The servant peered at him, with a warning finger wagging. “None has been here in my time, but the Liren-sha is no legend. Somewhere he is born, and lives, and may die never to know his power. Every man born with no magic hopes to meet this man who makes all equal.”
    Kattanan spoke softly. “This book must be a great thing. Am I worth so much to him?”
    The servant looked away from Jordan and nodded to the singer. “There is a lady he would have among his wives. I hear you are to be part of the bride-price.”
    â€œAnd so we travel on.” The boy sighed. “How long until the audience?”
    At that moment, there was another knock on the door. The wizard strode in without waiting for their answer. “I trust you have enjoyed your meal, but it is time to go. The emir is in a fine mood after our discussion. You will not let me down.”
    Before Jordan could say something nasty, Kattanan replied, “No, sir, I’ll be at my best.”
    â€œI am so glad to hear it. Follow.” He swept out again in a swirl of colorful fabric. They moved quickly through the dark halls until they stood before a great door cut with vines and flowers. A servant announced them, and Jordan gripped Kattanan’s shoulder briefly, smiling down at him. The open door revealed an octagonal chamber with a coffered ceiling lit by the ruddy light of sunset. A few veiled women lounged on cushions to one side, and guards armed with curved blades were placed all around. The emir himself reclined on a heap of furs and pillows under the room’s peak. He was bedecked with flashing gems and gold, even in the black hair that trailed down his back. He waved them forward with a casual motion. The other hand rummaged through a bowl of something golden and crunchy, tossing bits between the emir’s fleshy lips. As they approached, Kattanan saw that the emir’s snack consisted of ants crisped in honey. The singer blanched, doubly glad he had eaten nothing.
    â€œWhere is the voice?” the emir purred. His eyes seemed incapable of opening all the way.
    The servants vanished to the corners of the room, and the wizard gave a half bow as he presented Kattanan. Jordan, too, stepped aside, leaving the boy exposed to the peculiar regard of the emir. Kattanan bowed low, not knowing what else to do. When the emir still said nothing, he glanced to Jordan. The monk made a surreptitious circle with his hand, raising it to his lips to kiss it in the sign of the Goddess’s blessing. Kattanan turned back to the emir, and began the Evening Prayer. He shut his eyes and let the song take him to the ceiling with outstretched arms to bring the Goddess in. The chant ended on a triumphant high; the singer dropped his arms at the same time. He heard the emir’s tiny sigh, and knew that the audience was with him. He sang the Morning Prayer then, too, and part of a musical play they had heard in some far-off court.
    When he performed “The Song of the Lonely Steersman,” Kattanan’s voice conjured the strife of the men’s home, and the thunder of the storms at sea. Up from an infinite depth he raised the island on a gleaming pinnacle of sound, and when the steersman rose and saw the island dwindling behind him, the magic of the island fled his voice. The emir made no sign between songs, but his lips curled into a smile, and he caught the wizard’s eye with an air of approval. Jordan allowed himself to relax. The singer’s blond hair glowed in the fading light, in bright contrast to the dark figures around them. When the emir rose, Kattanan fell silent.
    â€œI will take him.” The emir motioned to a pair of slaves, who stepped up to Kattanan. “They will show you your chamber.” He turned back to the wizard.
    Jordan started to follow but found himself held back by a stocky guard with a sharp