ADI HAD NEVER been in the palace before, though he had often dreamed of coming here. Wide-eyed, he followed in the Shayk’s footsteps as the guard took them through the courtyards. How amazing it was to be here, in the seat of the great Sultan of Jayangan! He only wished it could have been in different circumstances; that it could have been with his beloved master, bearing the kris that had been specially made for the Sultan.
The palace was a series of beautiful white and gold pavilions. There were flower gardens with colored fountains playing; multicolored birds sang in golden cages; and the courtyards were floored with pure white pebbles and sand. Guards in the smart brown and white and gold uniforms of the palace, their ceremonial krises at their waistbands, patrolled the grounds, and graceful women with flowers in their buns and elegant dark-blue and gold sarong suits walked busily from pavilion to pavilion, bundles of papers in their hands. In one pavilion, there was a shadow-puppet show playing, and in another, musical instruments had been set up, ready to be played. In other circumstances, Adi would have wanted to linger, but today there was no time, and he trotted breathlessly at the heels of the Shayk, who strode purposefully, without a look to right or left.
They crossed another courtyard and came to a great red and gold door. The guard who had brought them explained rapidly to the guard at the door who Adi and the Shayk were. The man at the door looked at them, his gaze level and not very friendly. “Wait here,” he said, pointing to a bench near the door. “I will see if you can be received.”
The Shayk smiled thinly. “I think you will find Crown Prince Yanto will not like us to be kept waiting like this, but do your duty, my son.”
The man returned look for look, and did not flinch. “I will not be long.”
“Well, Adi,” said the Shayk when they were alone. “Is it what you expected?”
“Oh yes, sir. And more!”
“You are impressed with this power and wealth, my son?”
“Why, yes, sir! It is so beautiful, and seemly. The Sultans of Jayangan are great rulers. It is an honor to be here.”
“But are they devout, Adi? Are they truly devoted to the truth? Or is it just wealth and power they crave? Are they true sons of the Light?”
Adi looked in alarm at the Shayk. He hoped no one from the palace staff was listening. Such talk could land you in great trouble. The Shayk saw his expression. He smiled. “I ask only because if our rulers are not devout sons of the Light, then they might become easy prey for the tricks and wiles of demons and unbelievers.”
Adi stammered, “S-sir, I believe our…our Sultan is indeed devoted to the truth.” He added, in some discomfort, “He must rule for everyone, not just those who follow the Book of Light.”
The Shayk gave him a quizzical look from behind his glasses. “Hmmm. That is so in Jayangan, indeed. Yet were we treated well by the servant of the palace?” Adi stared at him.
“But sir, he has to protect—”
The Shayk nodded and smiled benignly. “Don’t look so afraid, Adi. God listens to you, as well as men.”
Adi said nothing more, but secretly, he was shocked. He thought, No wonder the old Sultan exiled the Shayk, if that was how he spoke. The Sultan was the Sultan, to be respected and looked up to. It was unworldly to think that a Sultan should not have wealth and power. Wise rulers used both well, knowing that a wicked ruler might well oppress his people but in the end would pay for it, certainly before God, and even before men. The people of Jayangan did not meekly support tyranny. The present Sultan was a man very close to his people; his kindness was well known, as were his energy and his dynamism. Besides, the Sultan’s patronage had helped to make great craftsmen like Empu Wesiagi what they were, and hopefully would help to make Adi’s own career as well. As to the way the guard had spoken to them—well, it was the job of such a man to protect his masters. He hoped the Shayk would make no rash, stiff-necked Pumujisal statements in the presence of the Sultan or the Crown Prince.
The guard came out again. His manner had changed. Now he was polite, even deferential. “Excuse me for keeping you waiting.” He opened the red door. “Please come with me, sirs.”
The Shayk, shooting Adi a look of mild triumph, got unhurriedly to his feet. “We excuse you, my son,” he said calmly, and they passed through the doorway.
The guard led them down a long corridor, toward an open door at the far end. The doorway was well guarded by several armed guards, who stood aside to let them pass. Adi could not help giving a gasp as they came through this doorway, for the room they entered was quite the most splendid thing he had ever seen. The walls were of pure white marble, with tracery work in filigree silver and green; the ceiling was made of carved, beaten metal in silver and blue; the floor was carpeted in magnificent ancient rugs; and a long, painted banner depicting a Court pavilion, with a regal-looking woman sitting on a blue dais, was hung on a rod from the back wall. There was little furniture, other than a carved sandalwood chest in one corner and, before the painted banner on a raised dais, two chairs made of carved teakwood, inlaid with silver and blue and green stones. On the chairs sat two men, the Sultan and his son, the Crown Prince.
Adi did not look twice at the occupants of the chairs. He had dropped to his knees, head bent. Beside him, however, the Shayk stood straight, unmoving. No one spoke for a moment; then a low, rich voice broke the silence.
“Welcome, Adi,” said the voice. Adi raised his head. To his astonishment, he saw that just behind the Sultan’s chair stood a woman. She had a beautiful, ageless face, with deep dark eyes, and silver hair that was held back under a magnificent headdress of blue and green and silver. She was dressed in a shimmering sarong that looked as though it had been dipped in liquid moonlight and sea-foam, and on one of her well-shaped fingers, a great white ring glittered. Adi did not want to stare, but he could not help it. She looked exactly like the woman depicted on the painted banner behind her head. She was…
“Queen Rorokidul,” he murmured rather uneasily.
Rorokidul gave him a thin smile. “My human husband, the Sultan, has not been mindful of his vows. The time is very near.” She vanished, and Adi was left staring stupidly at the spot behind the Sultan’s head where she had been.
“You may rise, child,” said a kind voice, and, starting, Adi saw that the Sultan himself was beckoning him forward. He scrambled nervously to his feet. The Sultan was a rather small, rather tubby middle-aged man with a thick head of glossy black hair and a round, kind face. He sported smart glasses, behind which his eyes shone with an irrepressible twinkle. The Sultan was clothed not in traditional dress, but in a pale gray business suit and shiny leather shoes. On one of his pudgy fingers glittered a great white ring, exactly like the one the Queen had worn.
Prince Yanto was as short as his father, but as cadaverously thin as his father was comfortably well-fleshed, and as serious-looking as his father looked cheerful. His eyes burned with the light of dedication and study. He was dressed in a similar style to the Shayk, in a spotless white robe and turban. A thin silver chain, at the end of which hung a small medallion similar to the one Sadik wore, was his only ornament.
“Well, well, child,” said Sultan Sunan Tengah. In his cheerful voice there was not a trace of the languid disdain one might have expected of a king of such ancient lineage. “I am glad to see you. Your master, Empu Wesiagi, is a great friend of mine, and I am concerned for his safety.” Then he looked directly at the Shayk. “And I have heard a great deal about you, Shayk Rasheed al-Jabal, from my son. He speaks most highly of you.” At these words, Prince Yanto smiled.
“I think you will find, Father, that the Shayk is more than worthy of my words.” His gaze at the Shayk was not that of a prince to an inferior, Adi noticed, but the humble gaze of a disciple to his master.
“I am most grateful that you have succored my young servant, Adi,” continued the Sultan to the Shayk. “This will not be forgotten.”
“Your Majesty, you do me too much honor.”
Adi breathed an inward sigh of relief. At least the Shayk knew how to talk to royalty, despite his words in the courtyard.
“Not at all. Credit must be given where credit is due. Besides, my son has often wished me to visit your community; perhaps it is time I did.” The Sultan smiled. “I’ve been told you have achieved real results and don’t just turn out preachers. We don’t need more tedious preachers, but people who actually get things done.”
Prince Yanto’s eyes widened. He cast a pleading look at the Shayk, who merely smiled. Adi waited uneasily for the Shayk’s reply. The old man merely said, coolly, “You are quite right, Your Majesty. I feel exactly the same myself. And it would be a very great honor to host you, Sire. We will prepare for this most important event, whenever Your Majesty wishes it.”
“Good. Now, I wish to hear everything that has happened.”
“My Lord,” said the Shayk quietly, “what we have to say should not be heard by any ears other than your own and those of His Highness Prince Yanto.” He looked meaningfully at the guards.
The Sultan clapped loudly. “Guards! Go, leave us alone. Close the door behind you.” He waved at Adi and the Shayk. “Now. Before we begin, there is something I must tell you. Adi, your master, Empu Wesiagi, was not coming here just to give me the kris he had made. He had learned something about the truth behind the terrible things that have been happening in Jayangan.” The Sultan’s eyes suddenly sharpened. “You see, he had begun to convince me that we have a very serious problem, and so I had entrusted him with the task of finding out more. He had learned much from his contacts with other wise men and women. He was journeying here to lay it all before me, because he did not trust any other way of communicating. It had to look like a normal journey, and yet he was nervous.”
“That is why we went by back roads and little routes,” said Adi.
“Did he manage to tell you anything, Your Majesty, before he disappeared?” said the Shayk.
“No, nothing at all. He only thought it safe to tell me in person. So, now, begin. I want to hear it all. Don’t leave out anything.”