He saw the flash of bright ribbons, even gold and gem-encrusted collars. Not all were scruffy alley mongrels or mangy harbor cats. Kaddar spied dogs and cats, under apparent truce, on every inch of space available. “It ain’t just birds, Prince,” the captain remarked. They stared at the harbor without uttering a sound. Even ship rails sported a variety of feathered creatures. He found pelicans, birds of prey-on the highest, loneliest perches-songbirds, the gray-and-brown sparrows that lived in the city. On masts, ledges, gutters, and ropes they sat, watching the harbor. All around the waterfront, birds made use of every visible perch. The captain handed the prince his spyglass. He could speak to Kaddar with less formality than most, since he had taught the prince all that young man knew of boats and sailing. “Tired of broiling, Your Highness?” The man spoke without looking away from the commercial harbor outside the breakwater enclosing the imperial docks. He went to the captain, trying not to wince as too-long-inactive legs tingled. Bring me something to drink,” he ordered the slaves.
He yelped, swatted the fly, got to his feet, and removed the crown. A stinging fly chose that moment to land on Kaddar’s arm. Looking about, the prince saw the captain, leaning on the rail, scowl and make the Sign against evil on his chest. Imperial dignity kept him in this unshaded chair, where a gold surface collected the sun to throw it back into his eyes. He shot a glare at the nobles and academics on hand to welcome the visitors: they could relax under the awnings. He had been waiting aboard the imperial galley since noon, wearing the panoply of his office as the day, hot for autumn, grew hotter.
His Royal Highness Kaddar, prince of Siraj, duke of Yamut, count of Amar, first lord of the Imperium, heir apparent to His Most Serene Majesty Emperor Ozorne of Carthak, fanned himself and wished the Tortallans would dock.
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