Cethe (23 page)

it was too late. His Eminence, the Archbishop advanced on Severyn and the glittering assembly parted hastily to let him pass.

“Your Highness! We meet again.”

“Mazril.” Severyn acknowledged the man’s brief bow. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Most diverting.” The bishop’s smile was easy, charming. “My regards on this happy day.” He hesitated and looked around.

“Wherever did Arami get the money? The last time we spoke, he was complaining about being quite out at the pocket.”

“Messerling looks to enjoy a good harvest this year,” replied Severyn and hoped his own smile was as believable as Locke’s.

“I have no objection to helping Arami out now and then. How much longer do you plan to stay in Lothmont? Does the Conclave

continue?”

“It ended yesterday. If it were up to me, I’d return to Zelenov immediately, but Charity is determined to make the most of our

little holiday. I’m afraid Zelenov doesn’t compare in her eyes.”

“Your wife accompanied you?” Severyn looked hopeful y around, but the exquisite Lady Locke was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s about somewhere. Your glass is empty, brother. Shal we have some more punch?” Slipping an arm familiarly through

his, the head of the Tanyrin church started toward the buffet. Severyn held determinedly to his composure. In truth, the man’s touch

made his skin creep.

“Very soon you, too, wil have a lovely helpmate. You’l learn the true joy of marriage. I should hope you would feel free to cal

upon me to conduct the service.”

“Thank you, Your Excel ency. I wil mention it to Miss Eldering when we begin the planning. She is in mourning, so of course,

we cannot contemplate having the ceremony until the year is past.”

“Ah, my dear, naive Prince.” Locke chuckled indulgently. “You wil soon discover, planning for a wedding wil consume al that

time and more. Your fiancé is secretly glad for the delay, I would suspect, so she might have more time to spend her family’s money.

Speaking of which… ” The Archbishop broke off, responding to a greeting from a passing nobleman. “It’s a shame how the

Elderings had sunk so far into ruin. I should be very surprised if the new earl can spare two coppers to rub together for her

expenses, and that in spite of the fortune we poured into his coffers to support his Hunter unit.”

Having seen the state of the Shian barracks, Severyn struggled to keep his polite smile.

“Stil , one must mourn the ignoble end of a family so old and honorable as the Elderings. Their connection with the Church

goes back to the dark time of naran rule. In fact, I recal reading in an accounting record somewhere that some valuable Church

property is kept in trust there.”

“Church property?”

“Yes, although I can’t remember what, exactly. So many of the Church’s relics and artifacts were scattered during the

Reformation to keep them out of the hands of the rebel ious h’nara.” He might have said more, but suddenly an impatient look

flashed across his face. It was gone almost at once, however.

“Darling! There you are!” Adorned in silk and jewels, a spectacularly lovely, raven-haired woman sailed up to them. She

stopped at the sight of Severyn, raising her dainty hand to her mouth to hide the charming moue of surprise. “Oh! Good evening,

Your Highness! I beg your pardon!”

Severyn, relieved at the interruption, could not help smiling his appreciation. “Lady Locke. How delightful to see you.” He took

her hand. “You are a lovely as always. His Eminence is a fortunate man.”

“Is there something you wanted of me, my love?” asked the Archbishop. There was a slight edge to his voice.

“Lord and Lady Norwich are having a house party next week and invited us. I know how much you loathe such events, but do

say I may go!”

“Of course, my dear.”

Lady Locke clapped her slender hands in delight, rising on tiptoe to deposit a chaste kiss upon her husband’s cheek. “You are

the most wonderful of men, my sweet! Severyn, it is marvelous to see you again. I’ve heard a tantalizing rumor. You are soon to be

wed?”

“Miss Eldering has agreed to make me the happiest of men,” replied Severyn, trying not to stare at her luscious breasts. They

threatened to escape the low-cut bodice with each breath. “Unfortunately, due to the death of her father and brother, we may not

hold the ceremony until next year.”

“How sad! Stil , Stefanie is such a lovely child. Wel worth waiting for, I’m sure. Oh! There is dear Lady Pomfrette. Please do

excuse me, but I must catch her before she leaves!”

The two men watched her glide away, trailing lace and perfume in her wake. Severyn took a deep breath. “A charming

woman, Locke.”

“The light of my life.” The sour note in the Archbishop’s voice was unmistakable, but he made a quick recovery. “How

fortunate you wil soon be delighting in your own married bliss, too. There is nothing like it.”

“So I hear,” replied Severyn.

“Ah! That reminds me. Michael Arranz is yet unwed, is he not?”

The chil was back, prickling Severyn’s skin.

“His father, Lord Philip, and the present duke were married and hopeful fathers at his age. I’m afraid the Council has been

sadly remiss in not providing him with a bride, as wel . I can only blame a surfeit of pressing business on the oversight.”

“Surely there’s no hurry,” replied Severyn. “After al , the duke is in no danger of dying without heirs.”

“Stil , there are traditions to uphold. It is our solemn responsibility to see to the longevity both of your line and of Lord

Michael’s.”

“I’m touched at your concern for my friends’ marital bliss.” Severyn gave his most noncommittal smile. “Although I should be

more concerned for Arami and Eleanor’s continued childlessness.”

“I have faith that Loth wil bless them in time with children. That doesn’t absolve us of our responsibilities, however. I shal

make a point of bringing of Michael Arranz’s marriage to the Council at the earliest opportunity.”

Al in al , Severyn decided, the party would not rank among his favorites.

White of hair, grey of eye

Touch a taint and you will die

Hair of white, eye of grey

Oak and sword the taint will slay

Child’s rhyme, author unknown

Marin shook Michael awake from deep, dreamless Sleep. Squinting at the bright sunlight pouring through his windows,

Michael groaned and tried to pul the covers over his head.

“I’m sorry, m’lord,” Martin said, yanking them back. “But His Grace has returned and insists on speaking to you.”

Michael swore. “To the devil with him,” he growled. “I’m tired. Leave me alone!”

“Now, now, Lord Michael,” Marin admonished him. “You don’t mean that, I’m sure. Come along. I’ve cal ed for some hot

water…” He looked toward the bath-tub stil sitting in front of the fireplace. “I can’t believe you went to bed in those filthy clothes, my

lord!”

Michael had vague recol ections of meaning to have a bath. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Only since last night, m’lord. Once you’ve spoken with your grandfather, you can come back to bed, if you stil wish it.”

Michael glowered at his servant as Marin cheerful y rummaged through the wardrobe in search of clean clothing. Grandfather

was back, was he? Perhaps it was just as wel . There were a few things he wanted to say to the old bastard; the brutalization of

Eldering was only the beginning of it!

Stefn!

Fear shot through Michael. He launched himself off his bed.

“Lord Michael!” Marin cal ed after him in alarm.

Michael didn’t stop. He ran down the hal to Stefn’s room, reaching the door only to find it locked. Locked! Whirling around, he

saw Marin running after him.

“Here, m’lord!” puffed the servant, handing over the key. “I looked in on him not five minutes ago… ”

Michael unlocked the door and threw it open. Looking wildly around, he saw Stefn. The youth was on his feet in front of a

chair, a book held in front of him like a shield, eyes wide and frightened. “M-my lord?”

Sanity returned to Michael in a rush. He drew a deep breath.

“He hasn’t been here, my lord,” said Marin, hurrying into the room after him.

“What is it?” asked Stefn anxiously.

“Nothing,” said Michael, who wondered distantly at the speed of his racing heart. The impulse to seize Stefn, to wrap his arms

around him and hold him safe and close was nearly overwhelming. “We’re leaving for Shia in the morning.”

Stil apprehensive, Stefn nodded.

“Be ready,” added Michael. Then, feeling a little foolish, he left the room, Stefn staring after him, mystified.

“My lord?” Marin inquired after Michael had locked the door again.

“Stay here.”

“But your grandfather…”

“I’l talk to him. You make sure no one but me enters this room, do you understand?”

Marin nodded. Michael turned on his heel and went back to his room.

He would have to talk to Grandfather, if only to inform him he meant to leave Blackmarsh at once. Lord Damon was a law unto

himself. As long as Stefn was in Blackmarsh, he was in danger. Loth only knew what other plans the old man had up his sleeve.

A quarter hour later, cleaned up but stil deathly tired, Michael presented himself at his grandfather’s quarters. The duke took

one look at him and said, “So, it was you who caused the wave. Young fool!”

Michael shrugged.

“It was irresponsible. I didn’t give you the spel s as playthings!”

“You wanted to know if I was a true naragi. I wanted to know if the spel s were truly what you claimed they were.”

“You’re stil angry about your cethe?”

Michael gritted his teeth and didn’t reply. His grandfather snorted. Rising from his chair, he strode over to Michael. “Is the boy

stil injured?”

“Of course not! And if you attempt to harm him again…”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” The duke turned away in disgust. “He’s your slave, not your lover! It’s obvious you haven’t even used

him to regain your strength! What wil you do if you face one of Locke’s mageknights? Do you think you’l have the luxury of such

delicate feelings?”

“I’m returning to Shia in the morning,” said Michael, fighting his temper.

“You’re going to Tantagrel,” corrected his grandfather. “Inform Severyn of the Hunter garrison newly established on our

doorstep. If there is anything he can do to remove them, it would be very much appreciated.”

“I’m sorry, Grandfather, but Severyn asked that I go back to Shia.” Michael rose so swiftly, it forced his grandfather back

several steps. The duke’s eyebrows snapped together.

“Has Severyn left it unattended?”

“Of course not. Auron is…”

“Chal ory is a capable man. You can return to Shia after you’ve delivered my message to Tantagrel.”

“With al due respect, sir, I take orders from the prince!”

Color flared on the duke’s high cheekbones. “Your loyalty is first and foremost to your family!” he retorted. “I’l hear no more of

this foolishness! It’s your fatigue causing you to talk this way. Enough of your absurd, maidenly reticence! Mount your damned

pretty-boy and recover your strength and clarity of mind!”

Michael wondered distantly what would happen if he planted the old man a facer. His fists clenched at his sides, but before he

could do anything irreparably stupid, there came a low, but urgent knock on the door.

“What?” roared his grandfather.

The door opened a crack. Dex looked in warily. “My apologies, Your Grace, but Lord Michael has a visitor. Lord Forrest is

here and desirous of speaking with him at once!”

“Forry?”

“Send the marquis up,” said the duke before Michael could move. “And bring refreshments.”

Michael had no choice but to sit down again.

“Do you know what Bradigan wants?”

Shaking his head, Michael rubbed his aching temples. Damn, but he needed to sleep. “I hope it’s not bad news,” he said.

“Forry was in Lothmont, last I knew.”

In short order, Forry appeared. He, too, looked tired and dusty from the road. He bowed to the duke and grateful y took a

chair. The refreshments arrived soon after he did, t’cha and honey-cakes, both of which he accepted with enthusiastic thanks.

“Severyn’s fine,” he replied in answer to the duke’s question. “He’s off to Tantagrel by now, I suppose. I’ve got a new

assignment for Mick. He wants you to go to Withwil ow at once.”