Текст книги "Cascet of Souls"

Автор книги: Lynn Flewelling

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CHAPTER 10. Teus

TEUS crouched at the end of the alley across from Crab Quay, hiding from the older boys who’d been picking on him. Squatting with his chin on his knobby knees, he was drawing in the dirt with a bit of broken crockery when a shadow fell across the mouth of the alley. He looked up to find a strange-looking character regarding him. He was a young fellow on a crutch with a bandaged foot and a patch over one eye. The ragged yellow hair sticking out under his hat looked dirty, as did his face and hands. He had on a long tunic with a rope for a belt and carried a lumpy sack over his shoulder.

Teus jumped to his feet, aware that he was trapped. But the stranger stayed where he was as he said, “Boy, I am lost, I think. Can you tell me how to get to the Sea Serpent tavern?”

“The Serpent?” Teus squeezed one eye shut, trying to think of how to tell the man all the twists and turns. There was something funny about the way the man spoke. You heard all kinds of accents here in the Lower City, but he’d never heard this one. “It’s a ways off.” He pointed. “That way.”

The man gave him an embarrassed smile. “Maybe you could show me? I’m not used to a big city like this. I’ve been lost all morning and my friends must be wondering where I am. I’m afraid they’ll sail without me. I can pay you a bit for your trouble.” He took a silver penny from his purse and held it up for Teus to see.

Eyeing the money hungrily, Teus still hesitated. The Serpent was on the edge of a neighborhood worse than this one,

but the man did look worried, and friendly, too, and he clearly wasn’t from here. Maybe he’d tell him where he was from. Teus liked to hear about foreign places. He was going to sea as a cabin boy when he was old enough, to see them for himself. Anywhere but this stinking slum would be fine.

He glanced up at the sun. There was plenty of daylight left; if he hurried and ran all the way back, he’d be home in no time, his mother none the wiser. He could tell her he’d found the penny and she’d be happy. “Come on, then.”

As he’d hoped, the young man was glad to talk, hopping along spryly on his crutch. He was from somewhere up north, in the Ironheart Mountains. Teus had never heard of those and was a little disappointed when the man told him you couldn’t sail there.

“But you might want to go anyway,” the fellow said, “if you want to see dragons.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. “Dragons! Really? You seen ’em?”

“Seen ’em? I’ve eaten ’em,” the young man replied proudly. “Little ones, anyway. The big ones are too dangerous to hunt, but the little ones are tasty.”

Teus was skeptical but he wanted to hear more and they were nearly to the Serpent already. “I never heard of any dragons in Skala. Not for years and years.”

“Where I’m from is a long way from Skala, lad. And there are dragons there. I can prove it.” He stopped and rummaged in his sack, then pulled out a little leather pouch. “Hold out your hand.”

Teus did and the man poured out half a dozen little white teeth on his palm, no longer than the end of his little finger.

“Dragon teeth,” he told the boy. “They’re good protection from bad luck.” He pulled a tiny cloth bag on a string from the neck of his tunic. “See? I wear one all the time, to keep me safe traveling.”

“Really?” That would be a good thing for a sailor to have.

The man smiled. “You like them, eh? Maybe we can make a trade.”

“Like what?” Teus didn’t have anything in the world worth a dragon’s tooth.

The man looked down at the teeth and shrugged. “I like these. You give me something you like for one of them, and it’s a fair trade.”

“I have a toy horse back home.”

“No time to go back. Do you have something on you now?”

Teus’s heart sank. He did. He’d found a little penknife in the street in front of one of the countinghouses in Merchant Street last year. It had only half a blade, but what was left still cut and the sides of it were made of bone with designs carved in. It was a special treasure, really, though nothing compared with a dragon’s tooth!

He reached into his purse and held it out.

The man acted as if Teus had offered him a sack of gold. “Oh, that’s fine, isn’t it? That’s a beauty!” He smiled down into the boy’s eyes as he took it and flipped the knife like a coin. “For this you may have two of the dragon’s teeth. Take the ones you like best.”

Teus was going to miss the knife, and since the man seemed so happy with it, he took the two biggest.

He ran all the way home, clutching the teeth in one hand and the penny in the other. His mother was sitting in the sun in front of their tenement, braiding candlewick to sell in the marketplace.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he came to a halt, puffing. “Are them boys after you again?”

“No, Ma, I’s just helping someone get to-to Gull Quay and I wanted to show you what he traded me!”

“Traded you? For what?”

“My broken knife.” Teus unclenched his fist and showed her. “Look! Dragon’s teeth, from baby ones.”

His mother looked, then shook her head and went back to her braiding. “Teus, you looby. Them’s the eyeteeth of a cat.”

CHAPTER 11. Sin and Sociability

SEREGIL was very pleased when an invitation from Selin arrived a few days later, asking them to meet him and Duke Reltheus at the Drake for some gambling that evening.

The Street of Lights gambling houses were, like the brothels, lavish establishments, surpassing some nobles’ houses in the richness of their appointments. The Drake was a favorite of the middle echelons of Rhiminee nobility, and it was not unusual to see members of the court on their way to one of the private gaming rooms.

They found Selin and Reltheus at a bakshi table, where Reltheus was being badly beaten by a wealthy dowager. When the last of his pieces had been captured, he paid his wager and bid the lady good night.

Selin made the introductions. “Your Grace, allow me to present Lord Seregil of Rhiminee and Lord Alec of Ivywell. My lords, His Grace, Duke Reltheus of Tenmont.”

“Well met, gentlemen.” Reltheus clasped hands with them warmly. “Young Selin has been singing your praises. You’re said to have Illior’s luck at the gaming tables, Lord Seregil. I was hoping a bit of it would rub off on me tonight. My purse is a good deal lighter than it was when I started out.”

Seregil smiled. “Then you must play with us, Your Grace.”

“Enough of titles here,” the man scoffed. “Names are good enough among gamblers. Do you play the stones?”

Seregil lifted the bakshi pouch from his belt and rattled the pieces. “Now and then.”

“A round then. Which of you will partner me?”

“Youth against experience, I say. Alec, you partner with Selin.” Seregil took the dowager’s place across from Reltheus and poured his stones into the wooden trough carved into the elegant tabletop in front of him. Alec and the young lord took their places to either side and did the same. Seregil and Alec had both brought their best sets for this place. Seregil’s were lozenges of the finest blood-red carnelian carved on the backs with dragons; the symbols incised on the fronts were highlighted with gilt. Alec’s were round pieces of dark blue chalcedony, with Illior’s Eye on the back, and the symbols limned with silver. His were still shiny, while Seregil’s were well worn from years of use. So were Reltheus’s onyx pieces, inset with gold. Selin’s, cast in silver, had seen considerable play, too.

Bakshi was everyone’s game in Skala; the rich played with fine pieces at tables like this one, while the poor squatted with their fistful of scratched pebbles over a gaming grid drawn in the dirt or chalked on a floor or the deck of a ship, vying to make the serpent, flower, snare, and spear patterns for wagers.

“I’m surprised we have not met before,” said Reltheus as he and Seregil took the first round with two serpents and caught half a dozen of Alec’s pieces with a snare.

“Alec and I move in more modest circles,” Seregil replied with a smile.

Reltheus chuckled at that. “Every man’s an equal over the gaming table, as the saying goes.”

“But you both know Archduchess Alaya, don’t you?” Selin put in, unwittingly shifting the conversation in the right direction.

“A grand lady, indeed, but I doubt she’d remember me,” Seregil demurred. “She did used to pinch my cheek when I was at court, but it has been many years since I’ve spoken with her.”

“You speak of years, Seregil, but look at you!” Reltheus exclaimed, slapping down a counter and capturing two of Alec’s pieces. “That enviable Aurenfaie youth. If I didn’t know better, Lord Alec, I’d say you had a touch of that blood

yourself. You have something of that look about you. But you’re from Mycena, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. But there are rumors of mixed blood,” Alec explained, as he always did when the subject came up. “My family was in trade and traveled in the south.”

“Ah. Well, it suits you. Don’t you think so, Seregil?” The man gave him a wink.

“I do, indeed.” Seregil slid one of his coursers into place to block Selin’s serpent.

“Then it is true, what they say of you two?”

Seregil glanced up with a slightly crooked grin. “More than likely, whatever it is. Do you know Alaya well?”

“Oh, yes, I attend her salons. You should join us. I’m sure she’d be glad of your company, with her taste for handsome young fellows. You’ll be expected to provide some sort of entertainment your first time, however, and you will be judged accordingly.”

Seregil smiled to himself. He knew just the “entertainment” to bring.

They played for several hours, with the money washing back and forth between the two pairs, then went to the card tables to try their luck at Hawk and Hunter. Seregil won mercilessly there, and the other players finally gave up and departed.

“That was thirsty work,” said Selin. “Where shall we go to drink at this hour?”

“I know a very welcoming establishment,” said Seregil.

They all piled into the duke’s carriage and Seregil directed the driver to Eirual’s house just down the street, where a pink lantern glowed invitingly over the door.

“Your Grace, my lords, come in!” the doorman, Manius, said, ushering them in at once. “I will inform the mistress that you are here.”

The lavish reception hall was filled with courtesans and their patrons for the night. Beautiful women of every description lounged around the room in silk gowns and jewels fit for any lady, entertaining their partner or partners for the evening. In a pink-lantern house, all the patrons were men.

The other three colors, white, blue, and green, signaled other combinations. Alec had once unwittingly stumbled in under a green lantern and found himself surrounded by male courtesans intent on entertaining him, much to Seregil’s amusement.

It was an elegant room, and rather exotic, reflecting the owner’s taste. Tapestries covered the walls, rather than murals, giving the room a warmer atmosphere in spite of the size, and displaying lush but tasteful scenes of carnal pleasures. The incense scenting the room was musky and sensual. At the far end of the room, a blond girl was plucking a lute, accompanying Myrhichia as she sang a love song.

Manius disappeared up the sweeping gilded staircase at the back of the room, returning a moment later with word that Eirual was still receiving visitors.

They found her in her broad, silk-hung bed. The explicitly erotic murals that covered the walls seemed to stir with a life of their own in the light of dozens of fine beeswax tapers.

As was the custom in this particular street, and in some of the finer houses on Golden Helm and Silvermoon, too, if truth be told, she held her evening salons from her bed, where she sat propped up against lavish silken bolsters, clad in an embroidered velvet dressing gown, the front of the lacy nightgown beneath it open to reveal her breasts. Several of her courtesans were there as well in similar dishabille, and there were half a dozen male guests already in attendance, Duke Malthus among them, talking and laughing over their wine and sweetmeats.

“Seregil, my love! And the handsome Alec!” Eirual greeted them gaily. “And you’ve brought friends. Duke Reltheus, it’s so good to see you. And this handsome young man.” She gave Selin a twinkling smile. “Didn’t I see you at Alec’s party?”

“Yes, mistress,” Selin managed, looking a little flustered. Seats were found for the newcomers, and wine was poured.

Reltheus sipped his and nodded. “Even in these times, you still serve excellent wine, my dear. How ever do you manage it?”

“Oh, I have my ways,” she told him. She turned to Alec

with a roguish pout. “What brings you here tonight? I’m sure it’s not to seek my custom.”

“Your company, of course, dear lady,” he replied.

Eirual laughed and turned to Reltheus. “I had no idea you knew this pair of rogues.”

“I’ve only met them tonight, and soon learned that it’s better to play on their side than against them.”

“I’ve lost many bets to them,” Malthus told him. “Yet I can’t seem to forgo their company.”

“I’m beginning to understand why,” Reltheus declared, and Seregil could tell the man was more than a bit drunk, and comfortable in these surroundings, as he’d hoped.

Seregil raised his cup to him. “May we have many more such nights of debauchery. What is life without pleasure?”

“To pleasure!”

Seregil and Alec sipped their wine sparingly while the others indulged more deeply. When the duke was flushed and merry, Seregil gave him a wink and said, “I understand you attend Archduchess Alaya’s salons. Does she entertain in this fashion?” He took Eirual’s hand and kissed it.

Reltheus laughed and Selin blushed. “Not these days,” the duke declared. “But she’s a grand woman still. To the lovely old thing!”

They all drank to that.

“I think she would appreciate the ‘lovely,’ but not the ‘old,’ ” Eirual chided. “No woman likes to be reminded of the passing of time and beauty.”

“Time does not end beauty, but transforms it,” Reltheus replied gallantly. “I’m sure your charms will never fade, lovely lady.”

“The archduchess must still be very youthful, to have the honor so late in life to be the confidante of the princess royal,” Alec remarked, steering the conversation back on topic.

“Oh, she dotes on the girl,” said Reltheus.

“I wonder what Princess Elani is like? They keep her so closely guarded. Have you met her?”

Reltheus nodded. “I have the honor of knowing her rather well. She can be very serious, like her aunt the queen, but she

has a girlish side, too. She’s wickedly adept with sword and bow.”

“She’s what, about sixteen now?” asked Seregil. “Has there been any talk of finding her a husband yet? I suppose the queen must be anxious to see her bear a daughter.”

“Not as yet, but-” The duke paused. “I do have hopes.”

“You?” Alec asked ingenuously.

“By the Flame!” Reltheus burst out laughing and slapped Alec on the shoulder. “I think my wife would have a thing or two to say about that. My mistresses are enough to vex her.”

“The duke has several handsome sons, Alec,” Malthus told him. “Danos is twenty, now, isn’t he, Reltheus?”

“Twenty-three,” Selin told them, “and a captain in the Queen’s Horse Guard, under Princess Klia’s command. Seregil’s friend Micum has a daughter who’s a captain and squadron leader in the Guard, too.”

“She was the leader of the famous Urghazi Turma before her promotion, I believe,” said Reltheus. “I’ve heard ballads sung about them and their exploits. She has a brilliant reputation.”

“I’ve heard your son’s bravery well spoken of, too,” Seregil lied. “And he is of an age and station to be considered for a consort, don’t you think?”

Reltheus smiled. “I’m in hopes that he may catch the queen’s eye.”

“And the princess royal’s, as well, I suppose?” said Malthus dryly.

“They have hunted together,” the duke said, ignoring the barb. “Elani’s mother birthed a fine string of girls, and I have four daughters myself. Queen Phoria is said to be taking such matters into consideration. Skala can’t afford another uncertain succession.”

On one hand, it was tempting to mark down the duke as just another social climber, trying to position his heir to ascend the royal ladder by way of the royal bed. But there was something about the cold-blooded manner in which he spoke of the match that fueled Seregil’s suspicions. It wasn’t the tone of a would-be father-in-law. There was often truth to be found in wine that didn’t come out otherwise.

“But I’m not the only one with a connection to the royal family, am I, Seregil,” said Reltheus. “I believe you and Alec here know Princess Klia.”

“They’re good friends with her,” said Eirual.

“We have that honor,” Seregil replied, puffing up a bit. Something in the way Reltheus was looking at him now twigged his suspicions. As innocent as the question seemed, he sensed more than ordinary interest and thought again of the list Alec had found with their names on it. “I’ve known her since she was just a little thing, and Alec came to know her well while we were in Aurenen.”

“What do you think of her? I understand she’s a delightful woman, and a fearless warrior.”

Alec nodded. “She’s as brave as she is beautiful and intelligent.”

“Spoken like a true devotee,” Reltheus said with a smile. “I suppose that’s what makes her such a fine commander. And there are those who think she’d make a fine queen.”

“I suppose there are,” Seregil replied noncommittally.

“Well, you are lucky young men, to be counted as friends of one so near the throne.”

“So near, yet so far.” Seregil watched for a reaction.

“Indeed,” said Selin, shaking his head.

“Word around court is that the queen is cold toward her youngest sister,” Reltheus said. “Do you know anything of that, Seregil?”

“Klia doesn’t bear her sister any ill will that I know of. As I understand it, they had their differences over allying with Aurenen.” Once again, this was common knowledge. “The queen had already chosen Elani as her successor, though. That had nothing to do with her decision, as far as I know.”

“Why do you suppose Queen Phoria recalled her sister from Aurenen so suddenly?” wondered Reltheus.

Seregil laughed and waved a hand. “I’m sure I don’t know. We haven’t seen Klia since she came back, and we’re certainly not privy to the queen’s reasoning.”

“Oh, of course not,” the duke replied. “I was only curious as to your opinion.”

“Queen Phoria must need all the commanders in the field

she can get, given how many she’s lost since the war started,” Alec offered.

“What else could it be? Or do you think differently, Reltheus?” asked Seregil.

“As you say, Seregil, I’m not privy to the queen’s thoughts. But we grow too serious. Bilairy take politics!” He raised his wine cup. “To the queen!”

The rest joined the toast.

“And the princess royal,” Seregil added, and saw how Reltheus’s gaze flickered his way. Surprise, perhaps?

“Alec, young Selin here tells me that you’re a good man with a bow,” said the duke.

“He can shoot the eye out of a woodcock at a hundred paces in the dark,” Malthus told him.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Alec demurred.

Reltheus clapped him on the shoulder. “And modest, too. That’s a good trait in a young man. I must have the two of you out to my estate for the hunting. You do hunt, don’t you, Seregil?”

“Not well, though not for lack of Alec trying to teach me.”

“And sadly, he’s not just being modest,” Alec put in with a grin.

For the next hour Seregil and Alec took turns telling altered tales and outright lies for the amusement of their companions, and the duke called them both “friend” before the night was over and renewed his invitation to come with him to the duchess’s salon as he and the other visitors took their leave.

Seregil and Alec lingered behind in Eirual’s room.

Eirual yawned behind her hand. “Pardon me, it’s been a long day.”

“We’ll leave in a moment,” Seregil told her. “But first-”

She gave him a knowing smile. “You want to know more about Duke Reltheus?”

“He’s a new acquaintance, and he interests me.”

“Well, he likes my girl Hyli, and has had more mistresses than you have teeth. But you already heard the best bit of gossip tonight. Reltheus means to marry his son Danos off to Princess Elani.”

“Who are Reltheus’s friends?”

“Oh, Earl Stenmir, of course, and Count Tolin. Those are the ones I’ve seen him here with.”

“I understood he is friends with Marquis Kyrin, as well,” Seregil prompted.

“Perhaps, but from what I’ve heard of the marquis, he doesn’t frequent brothels, or gambling houses, either. Rather boring fellow, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would, indeed.”

“Why this sudden interest in Reltheus?” she asked.

“I like to know who I’m gambling against.” Seregil rose and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, my friend.”

“It’s very late,” Eirual noted with a mischievous smile. “You could both sleep here tonight.” She patted the bed to either side. “There’s plenty of room.”

“But if we stayed, we might not get any sleep at all, and we have a busy day tomorrow,” Seregil teased back. “Another time.”

As he and Alec came down the sweeping staircase overlooking the salon, Seregil grinned as he caught sight of Atre, together with Count Tolin and a few other young lords, lounging with a cluster of courtesans. Atre appeared to be the center of attention, as always.

“My, my,” Seregil murmured. “He’s certainly making inroads with the nobility.”

“Not only them,” Alec muttered, and to Seregil’s surprise, he sounded piqued.

He glanced back and realized that the courtesan Atre appeared to be paying homage to was Myrhichia.

Just then the actor noticed them and waved. Seregil smiled and waved back. Alec didn’t.

Outside Alec avoided Seregil’s questioning look. Myrhichia could choose whomever she wanted; he wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, except perhaps because he knew Atre.

“Alec?”

“That was a good night’s work, wasn’t it?” Alec strode off

through the crowd of late-night revelers toward the ornate archway that marked the entrance to the Street of Lights.

“Yes,” said Seregil, catching up and linking his arm through Alec’s. “Kyrin interests me greatly. Why would a roisterer like Reltheus have such a reticent man for a friend?”

Alec shrugged. “Reltheus seemed to be sounding us out about Klia.”

“Yes, and clumsily, too. He certainly takes an interest in the royal family.”

“If he’s really so interested in Klia, I wonder if he sees her as a threat?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Seregil murmured. “Something has Reltheus’s attention, and Kyrin’s. My guess is that they think all of us on that list are potential members of a rival cabal. And just because we don’t know about it doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

Atre had designs on Myrhichia from the start, but Alec’s unmistakable look of dismay across the room made it all the more delicious a challenge. Were the young man and the whore more than friends? It seemed unlikely given all he had heard and seen of him with Seregil, but clearly Alec felt some warmth toward her. Why else that sour look as he locked eyes with Atre?

He made room for himself on the couch beside Myrhichia, took her graceful, bejeweled hand in his and raised it to his lips. Looking up at her through his thick lashes, he murmured, “You are lovelier than silvery moonlight on the face of the sea. Your beauty makes me tremble like a green boy.”

Rather than blushing, as most women did under the influence of his charm, the girl tapped his arm with her fan and laughed. “And you are as charming as the smitten swain you played the other night, dear man. I think he said something of the sort to lovely Aphinia. You are my favorite actor, and playwright, this season!”

“It’s women like you who are my inspiration,” Atre purred. “Your wit, your charm, the delicacy of your demeanor.” He raised his wine cup to her and announced to their circle of admirers, “I shall include a beautiful courtesan in my next

production. When you see her, know she is but my pale effort at homage to the beautiful Myrhichia.”

The others clapped and laughed approvingly. Myrhichia gave him a twinkling smile as she pulled a handsome golden pin set with a citrine from her dark hair and presented it to him. “Such gallantry deserves better reward, but perhaps this will do until I view the completed effort.”

Atre tucked it behind his ear like a flower and kissed her hand again. “You are too kind.”

The evening went on in that vein, flirtatious and witty, but after a time Atre began to get the distinct impression that she was politely putting him off. The more he continued to woo her, the more she spread her favors among the other young bloods. Atre continued to smile, tamping down his resentment. He’d have had any other woman-noble or whore-upstairs by now. It was becoming a matter of pride.

At last the others drifted away with their own conquests of the evening. Myrhichia was hiding yawns behind her fan.

Atre pressed Myrhichia’s hand to his heart and gave her his most ardent look. “You’ve won my heart. Don’t break it so quickly.”

“Break your heart? Why would I do such a thing, Master Atre?”

“The hour grows late and I fear you’ll want me to leave you. Please, my shining star, don’t send me away.”

The woman’s smile faltered at that. “Oh, dear Master Atre…”

“What’s wrong, lovely one?”

She took his hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I thought your friends would have told you.”

A little speck of coldness flared under Atre’s heart, but still he kept up his attentive mask. “Told me what?”

She paused meaningfully, skillful as any actress. “I’m so flattered by your attentions tonight. You’re such a delightful man. But I don’t-entertain actors.”

“Ah.” He gave her a look of fondest regret. “My apologies for discomforting you.”

“I’m so sorry!” She sounded quite sincere.

“Think nothing of it. The pleasure of your company is

delight enough.” He took the citrine pin from behind his ear. “Perhaps I should return this to its rightful owner?”

“Oh, please keep it,” she said, folding his fingers around it. “As a token of my regard, and for all the pleasure you’ve given me onstage, and tonight. I hope you’ll visit again.”

“Of course I shall!” He rose and kissed her hand one last time. “Know that you occupy a very special place in my heart, broken though it may be.”