Scarlet and the White Wolf [02] - Mariner's Luck (19 page)

Dozens of delicate lamps made of gilt and glass hung from chains suspended from the ceiling, scattering golden light on the walls, which were covered with large panels of polished, inlaid woods. An older woman with pure white hair sat at the far end of the high-ceilinged, opulent room, jewels glittering at her throat, her gown like a cobweb of silver. She wore a circlet of clear crystals—surely they couldn't be diamonds!—

binding her brow. Though she was a woman and much older, the angular shape of her face was very much like Liall's, and Scarlet realized with a shock who she must be.

A crown, he thought numbly, and stopped when Liall stopped. Behind the crowned woman was another, younger, woman: the coldest, most beautiful woman Scarlet had ever seen, with pale gold hair and eyes like chips of ice. Her name, Scarlet learned later, was Shikhoza.

His gypsy chief was a prince. The prince and the pedlar. If Scarlet could have made any sound at all, he would have barked laughter like a madman.

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by Kirby Crow

8.

Nazheradei

Liall pointedly did not place his foot on the lowest step of the dais, claiming a prince's status, but instead stayed on the main platform, watching and waiting.

"Welcome home, my son."

"I thank you, my mother."

There were no courtly speeches. Rshan greetings are swift and to the point. This saved time for later, when Rshani are disposed to better carving each other up. At Liall's side, Scarlet had gone deathly still, and he gripped Liall hand tightly, as if afraid he might be eaten by all these giants. Liall drew him forward and presented him to Queen Nadiushka.

"This is Scarlet of Lysia."

Her silvery eyebrows under her diamond crown rose slightly.

"My t'aishka," Liall finished, and her eyebrows went higher still. Liall nudged Scarlet with his elbow. The pedlar jumped and looked at Liall with round, frightened eyes. "Bow," Liall muttered, knowing the boy had forgotten. Scarlet could hardly be blamed for that. A surge of guilt nudged his conscience.

Scarlet took a deep breath and looked up at the mistress of the Nauhinir Palace, the Queen of Rshan na Ostre, then put his hand over his heart and sketched a brief, old-fashioned bow.

Liall glanced to Nadiushka and saw the corners of her eyes crinkle with amusement. When had she acquired those 164

Mariner's Luck [Scarlet and the White Wolf Book 2]

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wrinkles? Ai, my mother, despite your vow, you have grown old after all.

The amusement that rippled through the glittering court was less kind, for Scarlet's greeting was far less than should be rendered to a Queen, but Scarlet was oblivious to all of it.

Liall, however, was not. He lifted the edge of his cloak and draped it over Scarlet's shoulders along with his arm, then pulled the Hilurin closer to his side. Now there would be no mistakes, since he had publicly claimed Scarlet. Liall could feel his trembling through the cloak, though he hid it well enough.

Then his mother did something that surprised Liall. She rose from her throne and descended the three steps down to where they stood. She looked at Liall for a long moment, and from this distance there was no mistaking her age. No amount of powder or jewels could hide the deep lines around her mouth and the dull, gray strands threaded carefully through her hair. Rshani do not age in quite the same way as the other races, but she had grown elderly in his absence. He saw it in her skin and in her hands and most of all in the tears that glimmered in her pale blue eyes, so like his own.
And
Nadei's,
a silken voice seemed to hiss in Liall's mind.

She put her hands on Liall's shoulders and placed a kiss in the center of his forehead: an extraordinary greeting from a Queen. Liall thought nothing she could do now would astonish him further, but then she turned to Scarlet and kissed him in the same manner, and he, knowing no better, briefly touched her arm in return. She was not offended, though well she might have been once. Liall, too, had a prickly sense of pride, 165

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and he had learned it from his mother. Liall had never known King Lindolanen, his father, for the young king had had been killed hunting a snow bear while Nadei was still toddling.

Nadiushka had been pregnant with Liall that year, and he had been born to a widowed mother, a matter thought to be an ill-omened thing in Rshan.

Well, Liall thought, they had not been wrong.

She turned and motioned, and from behind the throne came a sturdy boy of fourteen or so with a look of her about his mouth and eyes. Liall had had no reliable news from Rshan in ages, but he could guess who the boy was. He was tall, handsome, but not overly so, and he looked at Liall with wariness and more than a little suspicion. Liall found a moment to be desperately thankful that the boy resembled Nadei not at all.

"Cestimir," the Queen called, drawing him to her. He was almost as tall as she. "This is your elder brother, Nazheradei."

She smoothed Cestimir's hair, which was like silver silk and curling at the ends. "This is Cestimir, my son."

No bows were necessary between them, blood prince to crown prince, being from the same wellspring, but Liall sensed deep currents flowing around the court. There was anger here, which was nothing new, but also a sense of urgency that he had not felt since...

Don't think about that day. Not now. Not here.

Led by instinct alone, Liall touched his forehead and bowed low, nudging Scarlet to follow his lead. Scarlet did, and when Liall lifted his gaze, he saw the suspicion fade from Cestimir's eyes. Too quickly, for a courtly bow costs nothing and means 166

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nothing. It made him suddenly afraid for him, and for his mother.

What have I walked into? Is this a homecoming, or a prelude to an assassination? He would know soon enough.

* * * *

A prince. Liall was a prince.

Scarlet was quiet in the corridor after they were given leave to withdraw, a silence made up of sheer amazement, shock, and a growing sense of anger. Liall was equally silent, but his reasons were unknown to Scarlet.

A prince. Liall was a prince! I'm a pedlar, a petty merchant who sells pins and silk ribbons and perfume and cheap jewelry from town to town, and he ... we....

It made Scarlet feel faintly sick.

Liall curtly gestured that Scarlet should follow him, and he started off confidently into the depths of the palace, the crowds of jeweled onlookers parting for them like the sea.

Scarlet followed, staying close to Liall's side.

"These are my apartments," Liall said some endless time later, when they had walked what would have amounted to a long evening's stroll in Lysia. "Or they were, when I was a boy."

Scarlet had followed him in a daze, past gilded doorways and glittering stairs, and finally they had arrived at an enclave that could have safely held four or even five houses of the size he had grown up in, and Liall called it 'apartments'.

In merchant caravans, Scarlet had seen rare and costly things, but just the little ante-chamber of Liall's apartment 167

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put those wares to shame: richly patterned carpets and woven tapestries, crystal vases and beaded curtains, and inside there was more. There was a sitting area, like a common room back home, furnished with a green couch with deep cushions and several large chairs, each big enough for a grown man to curl up in like a baby. Tall chests paneled in dark-tinted wood lined the walls, and there was some type of game table surrounded by a set of chairs. Small, potted vases of red flowers, in appearance almost like roses, were placed about the room, but their scent was decidedly unfamiliar.

Scarlet peered to the right as they walked in and saw a wide table and delicate, carved chairs set up in an alcove lit with candles, a private dining nook of some sort, but filled with furniture far costlier than any he had seen before.

Liall signaled Scarlet to follow as he entered through an open archway into a bedroom that seemed to be made simply to house the enormous curtained bed within. The outer layers of the bedcurtains were velvet, and the inner veils were of a light-spun material like gauze or spider webs. The sheets on the bed looked like silk and were dyed crimson with crushed carilla shells. The deep, red color with its characteristic shadings of black and purple was unmistakable, and there was much of it scattered around these rooms. Carilla was the most expensive of dyes, imported from far across the sea, and Scarlet used to wonder where it came from. Now he knew.

However dark it was outside, it was bright within these rooms, with the light of many lamps chasing back the shadows and a fire roiling in the hearth. The blue crystal 168

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lamps looked like gigantic sapphires hollowed out to hold oil, and there were heavy woolen draperies that extended from ceiling to floor. A very large, curved casement with a glass window was behind the bed, its heavy draperies flung open to reveal a dim landscape of ice and drifting snow. The sheer size of it made him feel slightly sick. There were only two glass windows in all of Lysia. Or there had been.

A very old man, blue-eyed with a shock of wiry silver hair, and with the kindest face Scarlet had seen yet, came into the bedroom and greeted Liall. Liall took both the old man's hands before embracing him for several long moments.

Scarlet saw the glisten of tears in the old man's eyes and wondered who he was. They exchanged more words and the old man lifted his chin.

"This is Nenos," Liall said, introducing the elderly one, who bowed to Scarlet. Scarlet bowed back awkwardly, and Nenos nodded politely before turning and exiting through a narrow doorway near the wall. The apartments were like a maze, and Scarlet wondered if he would get lost in them.

Liall tossed his beautiful cloak over a chair and sat down on a bench near the foot of the bed to remove his boots. "I want a bath," he said wearily. "And so do you."

He did, as a matter of fact, so he knelt to remove his own boots while Liall waited impatiently. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Scarlet asked lowly.

"What reason was there until now?" Liall's tone was sharp.

Scarlet kept his head down and finished with the boots.

Liall rose and signaled imperiously for Scarlet to follow. They walked barefoot through the smaller doorway into the next 169

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room, which seemed to be an undersized version of the common room, but more cozy and intimate, with a small hearth and a wide window at the back. This room was lined with shelves and shelves of books, and there was a deep, comfortable couch and several chairs.

Scarlet slowed and would have lingered in this restful room, but Liall threw an annoyed look over his shoulder.

Scarlet hurried to catch up to him: through another doorway into a narrow room tiled in herringbone brick with thick rugs scattered about. There were chests and shelves, but nowhere to sit, and Liall went straight through the doorway at the back with Scarlet following, where the pedlar stopped dead in fresh shock. This brightly-lit room was large and warm and held an enormous sunken tub big enough for ten, already full of steaming water, a tall stack of towels the color of snow, and four servants, including the old man Liall had embraced.

Scarlet hesitated before entering further, but Liall allowed the servants to take his coat off and begin unbuttoning his shirt. He signaled for Scarlet to do the same, but Scarlet balked and stepped back when the servants reached out to him.

The servants were confused and turned questioning gazes on Liall for guidance. Liall gave Scarlet a warning look and shook his head slightly.

"Do as I do," Liall said in a commanding tone, and began to undress.

Scarlet nervously began to remove clothing that was stiff with salt in places. They both stank of the journey, and it would be good to be cleaner than a wash with a bucket of 170

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cold water would allow, but all these servants! Bathhouses were common in Morturii, but there a man undressed himself, unless the reputation of the house was not to be repeated in polite company. There was a name for body-servants in a bathhouse, and it was not a nice one.

Scarlet waited until Liall had climbed into the bath before he peeled off his breeches to climb in, certain his skin was flaming red before he even touched the hot water. He sank up to his chin in the bath.

A very young man with a round face like a moon, naked to the waist, knelt on the floor behind Scarlet and touched his hair. The boy wore his own pale hair tied back with ribbon.

Scarlet flinched, jerking away.

"He wants to wash your hair," Liall said.

Scarlet began to say that he could damn well wash his own hair, but when he saw the set of Liall's jaw and reckoned how much it might have affected Liall to see his kin again, Scarlet submitted.

At least, he thought, I don't have to allow anyone to bathe me. When the boy came close with a bath cloth, Scarlet scowled at him until he retreated. Scarlet held out his hand for the cloth. The servants all saw the four fingers on his left hand, and that provoked a few shocked comments, but Liall would not translate.

"It is superstition," he said dismissing it.

Then Scarlet had to be quiet and tip his head back for the moon-faced boy—he heard Liall call him Chos—to work. Chos said something in his own tongue, his tone awestruck, and several of them answered.

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Mariner's Luck [Scarlet and the White Wolf Book 2]

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