Rift in the Races (70 page)

She didn’t want any of that. Somehow the trip through his zoo had poisoned any last bit of respect she’d held for him. She’d tried to convince herself it was perfectly normal for a wealthy Prosperion lord to keep a variety of exotic things, but the disheveled unicorn had dispelled more than her belief in the false perfection of certain myths. While Thadius might try to claim his pets were no different than Altin’s dragon, the glaring truth was that Altin didn’t keep his dragon in a cage. Altin’s “pet” did whatever it wanted. Altin’s “pet” was free. Altin’s pet could probably eat him if it wanted to. As far as Orli was concerned, the two of them, mage and dragon, played on an even field, each with as much to gain or lose by the relationship—unlike Thadius and his sad, pathetic menagerie.

Nonetheless, lesser man that she was certain Thadius was, she resolved to play his game today. He clearly wanted her to like him, and he continued to go out of his way to be unyieldingly nice. So, she would use him to find out about the yellow stone. Perhaps today would be a good day to put on one of those awful dresses. Or even agree to a horseback ride. Give him something, and perhaps she might get something back. That was the sort of man he was, and she was smart enough to understand how it worked.

Sure enough, Thadius appeared shortly after breakfast, all smiles and perfect attire. “Miss Pewter,” he gushed, seeing her in a splendid gown, if less elaborate than the first he’d provided for her. “You look simply divine. May I assume, dear girl, that you have recovered from the melancholy that has so besieged you of late?”

She forced a big, happy grin and said, “Why, yes, Lord Thoroughgood, I am in great cheer today.” She had to hide the grimace that would have followed that, as she immediately thought she’d overplayed her role. That didn’t even sound like something she would say. Thadius was overweening and self-absorbed, but he was not an idiot.

“That is spectacular,” he said. “Simply spectacular. The clouds have broken some today, and there is a bit of sun about. An omen, perhaps, of my good fortune. Might you, then, be in a mood for a turn about the grounds?”

“Yes, a turn would be fantastic.” She barely kept the edge of sarcasm off the end of that.

“Henpenny, see to finding Miss Pewter something fit for a day out of doors,” he commanded the chambermaid who had become Orli’s full-time attendant. “Have her downstairs in my drawing room in an hour.” With that he left.

“Wait,” Orli said, but he was gone too fast. She rushed to the door as it clicked closed behind him, intent on asking if there was any news on the case. She opened the door and stuck her head out into the hall, looking left and right. She could see him moving off down the corridor, but her voice lost its wind suddenly. This was the first time it occurred to her that there were two men standing guard outside her door.

She’d been dimly aware of their presence, but somehow they hadn’t seemed sinister before. She thought her handmaid had simply been speaking to servants when she went out and gave orders in the hall. But these weren’t servants. At least not the regular kind.

They looked at her peeking out as she was, and there seemed to be something more than simply protective about the way they stood, their muscles tense and knuckles whitening on the shafts of their spears.

She frowned at them and pulled her head back inside, closing the door behind her.

“Henpenny,” she said, emulating Thadius’ authoritative tone as best she could, “why do those men standing outside my door have spears?”

“They’re to keep you safe, Miss. Given what has happened recently, of course.”

“Am I really in that much danger here in Lord Thoroughgood’s house?”

“That’s not for me to estimate, Miss. I’m just here to see to your day-to-day.”

“What would happen if I tried to leave Northfork right now, right off the grounds and out of here?” She was perfectly blunt.

“You’re certainly free to go,” the woman replied, though she kept busy cleaning up Orli’s breakfast plate rather than look her in the eye. “Nobody’s keeping you here against your will.”

Orli’s mouth wriggled dubiously, but she let it go for the moment. “Well, let’s get me dressed for out of doors,” she said, using Thadius’ cumbersome phrase. “And make it something I can go riding in. I think I could use the exercise.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She was glad to be getting out of that damnable dress so soon, and she couldn’t help think it an interesting twist of fate that saw her having put it on as the way to be back in riding clothes.

An hour later, Orli was ready for her “turn” out of doors. She wore a riding dress that still seemed ridiculously complex, but it gave her legs the freedom to run if she needed to, which she couldn’t help thinking that she might.

Thadius offered his arm as he approached. “Finally, Miss Pewter, I can show you the grounds. They are truly spectacular, and I spare no expense to keep them that way. You won’t find finer anywhere outside the Palace, and in places, I think I have surpassed even that.”

“I am thrilled to see them,” she lied, taking his arm in her hand and trying not to let revulsion show upon her face.

He led her about for a while, chatting on about this rare tree or that one, this bush from String or that one from Duador. Etc. She couldn’t be interested in anything he had to say, not even about exotic plants of Prosperion, but she did try to fake it as best she could. She tried even harder not to seem too enthusiastic for news about the murder case. She definitely didn’t quite know how to bring up the yellow stone.

Eventually, and with no natural lead-in for it occurring in the course of his endless discourse, she couldn’t bear waiting any longer, so she simply asked about the murder investigation outright as they ducked under a low-hanging lilac limb. “What have you found out about Tytamon’s case?”

“I’ve got my best people on it,” he assured her—as expected. “Working with the Queen’s men and even a few working independently. Everything that can be done is being done.”

When she asked about news of the fleet, he said they were still working out the difficulties with the teleporters and that was all. He brushed off additional inquiries, seemingly hell bent on giving her the tour as the singular object of the day.

So she walked. And walked. Over the course of nearly five hours, they still hadn’t seen everything. She was fairly sure if she had to look at one more marble fountain, or one more magically wrought topiary maze, she was going to kill herself on the spot.

As she absently contemplated the melodramatic act, she wondered how she would carry it off even if she’d had any real intent. She had no weapon on her, and for the first time in her life, she actually regretted that. Life on Prosperion, hell, life everywhere, seemed to have proven that a weapon was a necessity. If she had actually wanted to kill herself, she’d have had to steal Thadius’ sword. The sight of the longsword recalled to mind the man in black armor who had helped Thadius rescue her, and she realized with considerable guilt that she hadn’t asked about him since her recovery.

“Thadius,” she said, then remembered to soften her tone. “Thad. I meant to ask, but was too … well, emotional before. But what happened to that man who helped rescue me? The other man, in the black armor. Is he all right? Did he get away with us?”

For a moment Thadius looked as if he had no idea what she was talking about, the barest movement of his eyes. His face nearly erupted with enthusiasm right after, though. “Oh, him. Yes, of course. He made it out quite fine, all intact and in tip-top form. In fact, I spoke to him only just the other day. He’s doing splendidly.”

At first, she was genuinely relieved to hear it, but somehow, all of that caused Orli to nibble at the inside of her lip. Something was up with Thadius, and whatever it was now began to wear thin.

“That’s nice,” she said, forcing yet another smile. “Do tell him I said, ‘Thank you,’ for his help.”

“I will, indeed.”

“Who is he? Is he a great lord or a famous knight? I should like to know.” She was putting on her best Lady of Prosperion show.

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “Nothing like that. Just a manservant of mine. A commoner and a blank. Good with the sword and a horse, of course. Mandatory service to the Queen and all that rot trains them up nicely.”

She smiled obliquely. “Where is he? I would like to thank him then. That wouldn’t seem too forward, coming from just another blank like me.”

“No, of course, not. But he’s gone now. I paid him a fair sum for that bit of work, and he and his wife have bought themselves a little place of their own. Gone off happily into retirement and no longer in my employ.”

“I could write him a letter then. What is his name? I’ll get to it right away.”

“Yes, a letter of course.” Thadius sounded relieved. “And his name is … He is called Prevus Prendertook.” The name slid awkwardly off his tongue.

“That’s an interesting name,” she said.

“Yes, his family is from a small fishing village on the Gulf of Dae.”

“Oh, the Gulf of Dae! I love the gulf,” she said, clapping her hands and trying to prevent her eyes from narrowing suspiciously, thus rendering her gesture and her expression mismatched. “They have the most wonderful air, though the mosquitoes are monstrous. Is that where he’s retired to?”

“You’ve been there?”

She couldn’t tell if he looked startled or just annoyed.

“Yes, I have. Altin takes me there all the time.”

“Indeed,” said Thadius. He straightened himself and ran four fingers through the hair at his temples. “It occurs to me, Miss Pewter, that I have some business to attend. Do you think you can find your way back all right?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but you’ve reminded me of a very important matter that I must see to straight off.”

She smiled, this one genuine. “Yes, I can find my way.”

“Wonderful. I’d like to see you tonight for dinner. At six, if you would be willing to oblige.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With that he spun and left, his gait stiff-legged and quick. Orli watched him go, her head bobbing with the ever-so-slightest of nods. Something was going on; she just wasn’t quite sure what. She was fairly sure she’d nearly caught him at it too.

When he was out of sight, she lingered in the shade beneath a large sycamore deciding what she should do. She could go back to her rooms, but the thought of that immediately sounded like the worst idea imaginable. She’d rather go check herself into a jail, one that didn’t pretend it was something else.

In lieu of either of those options, she decided to have a look around. This time with herself as guide. She spent some time trying to unwind the track they’d been through but finally gave up. There were far too many gardens and courtyards around the place for even her trained eye to tell them apart after only one pass.

Eventually, and quite by accident, she found the stables and equestrian training grounds out behind the house. She half expected someone would stop her as she went in, and in truth, she couldn’t help feeling as if she were being watched the entire time she looked about. However, none of the numerous glances over her shoulders or through the screen of her bangs as she feigned to study this plant or that statuary revealed anyone on her tail.

So into the stables she went. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for at first but felt that she was looking just the same. Eventually, however, one stall after the next revealed nothing conspicuous, and after a time, she began to relax and even enjoy herself. Unlike those poor creatures trapped below Thadius’ house in a tiny, sunless universe, his horses were spectacular. They did not seem stressed or miserable at all, in fact quite the opposite. They were exquisite in every way, majestic and overflowing with health. Being near them cheered her considerably.

She found herself stopping at each stall, staring in wonder, marveling at the raw beauty and strength of the animals. Most of them came to her and offered a soft nose and sweet-smelling breath, including one big, beautiful bay that she thought she recognized. A few nipped at her or warned her off with bass rumbles in their chests. But all were magnificent. Especially the last.

In the last stall, near the back of the colossal stable building, was a massive white warhorse who stood at the withers several inches taller than the top of Orli’s head. His chest was broad as a bathtub and looked as if it had been chiseled from the finest ivory. It snorted at her and raised its head defiantly, one eye on her, keen as a hawk’s. She thought about trying to pet it, imagining that the gray velvet at its muzzle would be downy-soft, but the imperious look in that big dark eye suggested that she might pull back a stump.

Still, it was one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen. She wanted to ride it with the same sort of desire she’d had when she first met Taot, a yearning deep inside her, a primal call from an ancient heredity. She could imagine how the animal must run like light itself on those powerful legs, the length of its strides devouring distances with coursing and unimaginable grace. She wanted to take it out almost desperately. She told herself she should. Since when did she follow rules, especially ones she’d never seen or heard?

But she knew she wouldn’t have the guts to do it on her own, even as she looked around for a saddle that she might have used. There was a fine one, black leather polished to a shine, with a high cantle and even higher swell, the latter embossed with a pair of jousters about to collide and rimmed round the edge with gleaming silver studs. It was the same saddle she’d seen when Thadius had rescued her. It was beautiful in a requisite way, as if nothing less would be worthy of the back upon which it had been made to sit.