Swords of the Imperium (Dark Fantasy Novel) (The Polaris Chronicles Book 2) (20 page)

Taki tilted his head in confusion. Why would such a fierce warrior wish to dally with frilly silks and cambric? “I think boiled leather and steel go better with you.”

Lotte shot him an exasperated look.

“We’ll be wearing these disguises all throughout,” Aslatiel said. “So you need to get comfortable moving in them.”

“The things I do…for my country,” Elsa huffed. She tried to take a wider step and ended up pitching backward from the imbalanced outfit. She spread her arms in an attempt to direct her fall but ended up in Mikhail’s arms.

“Make sure you all practice fighting in those clothes,” Chang said. “Or at least know what to tear away before you get into it. Spend the rest of the day in your disguises to get used to them.” She turned to leave. “Don’t fuck up, by the by.”

“Oy,” Draco said. “Where’s the Prince of Maladies? Shouldn’t she be suffering along with the rest of us?”

Hadassah stuck her tongue out. “You just want to see her in a cute dress, pervert.”

“No! It’s just that, you know, maybe I wanted to see another side of the fearsome Prince.” Draco’s ears reddened through the powder.

“My sister is too recognizable to the Ursalans,” Aslatiel said. “She’ll stay back for this one.”

“Makes sense,” Draco said. “They titled her.”

Taki yawned and righted himself. He saw Enilna staring at him while she squatted against a corner. She was attired as a lady-in-waiting, and though her finery lacked the expense of Elsa’s or the striking appearance granted to Lotte, it lent Enilna a certain air of delicacy that Taki found himself appreciating. He met her eyes, and she looked away. He went to her, sick of feeling blamed for everything.

“What’s your problem?” he snapped. Immediately, he regretted his words.

She glared at him. “I have no problem. I’ll be off now.”

“Wait. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you,” Taki said. “If I did, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for turning you down aboard the zeppelin.”

“You’re impossible to figure out, Natalis. It confuses me, and when I get confused, I get angry. And you’re making me
really
angry!”

“We’re about to do something dangerous. We can’t be pissy to each other like this.”

“Then give me a straightforward answer. Am I not good enough for you? Is there something about me you dislike?”

“It’s not about you.”

“Then what is it? Do you have a dysfunction? Do you fancy older women? Do you want to rut with your captain instead?”

Taki grimaced and shot a glance toward Lotte. When it looked as if she hadn’t heard Enilna, he sighed in relief. “No, and be quieter, damn you.”

“You don’t even know what you want. No wonder you’re still a virgin.”

Taki clenched his fists. “You hit me with that whenever you feel stung. Everyone mocks me all the time. It’s not like I
want
to be ridiculed forever! I wanted to take you, but you were scared out of your godrotting mind.”

“So?”

“It’s not supposed to be that way! You shouldn’t have offered yourself if you weren’t ready. And if I’d done it anyway, then I’d be even more pathetic for it.”

Enilna punched him on the arm. “You’re so annoying! I hate you!”

Taki shook his head. “The real problem is that you’re still a
child
.
Well, I’m no molester.” He turned to leave.

Enilna grabbed at his sleeve.

“What?” he spat.

“When…when you were all awkward with the padishah, did you mean what you said? About how you think I’m heroic and good?”

Taki sighed. “Yes, I did. You’re braver than most people have a right to be.”

“Then I guess I can forgive you a little. Can we stay friends?”

Taki threw his hands up in frustration. “Of course we can.”

Lotte breathed in through her nostrils, held her breath, and let it out slowly. She closed her eyes and grasped the hilt of her side sword. “I know where she is.”

Hadassah grinned and smacked her fist into her palm. “Then let’s start the hunt. Hear ye, Mezeta, I’m going to find you. And then I’m going to eat you.”

“You say the same thing when you’ve got a finger in your nose,” Draco said.

She reddened. “I do not!”

“No cannibalism! And pipe down, you’re arousing suspicion!” Taki focused on holding his studiously bored expression. They had barely gone a dozen steps past the grand portcullis of Astarte, and everyone was already breaking character. Everyone in
his
squad, anyway.
Why can’t they just be good?
Meanwhile, the Imperials seemed to blend perfectly into their roles.

“Even if Hecaton Mezeta were to pass right in front of our noses,” Aslatiel said, “we’re in no position to face her. You know this, Satou. Follow the plan, or we all die. Viscount of Brittany, control your horse.”

Draco tugged at his reins and prevented the mare from snapping up an apple from a nearby street vendor. “Damnable beast,” he muttered.

He alone rode while the others walked. They were disguised as a standard, if somewhat small, noble’s entourage. Aslatiel had beaten it into their heads: the Viscount of Brittany had journeyed to Astarte to dice and enjoy blood sport at the Tintoretto.

“My apologies, von Halcon,” Lotte said. “Mezeta didn’t just steal from us; she ruined our lives. We were cast out of our home with only the clothes on our backs. We’d have ended up as beggars or highwaymen if you hadn’t taken us.”

“And if Natalis hadn’t vouched for you,” Aslatiel said. “There’s no love lost between Mezeta and me, either. We will face her again, I’m sure, but on our terms. For now, let’s obtain lodging and a place to rest our horses. Viscount, you remember how to comport yourself, right?”

“Aye,” Draco said. “I don’t touch grad for any reason. I leave it all to you, and the other servants carry the bags. I’m to hit them with my cane if they tarry. The long and short of it is: I’m to be a giant dick.”

“Precisely. And if someone of noble blood should insult you at any point?”

“Challenge him to a duel, to be held in the morning. He picks the seconds.”

“Don’t forget to throw your glove down.”

Enilna tugged at Aslatiel’s sleeve. “Can we attend the festival? I’ve always wanted to go to Korbo’s Feast, ever since my mother told me about it.”

Around them, the city buzzed with preparation for the ancient rite. Paying homage to a harvest god whose worship even the Santctissimus Rex could not stamp out, the festival was one of Astarte’s most popular. Brightly colored banners unfurled from high windowsills, and towering effigies of saints and devils received finishing touches from attentive craftsmen. Eventually, they would all burn for the culmination of the festivities. Enilna eyed a three-meter-tall caricature of the padishah, with comically oversized and sore-ridden genitals, and laughed.

“No,” Aslatiel said.

Enilna looked crestfallen but did not protest further.

“Sir Aslatiel,” Taki said, “I mean no insubordination, but becoming familiar with the city layout and hearing the local gossip would only help us in the end. We all know better than to become intoxicated, too.”

Aslatiel scratched his chin in thought. “I hadn’t thought of that, Natalis. Very well, I’ll allow some of our number to go.”

“Thank you,” Taki said. He glanced over at Enilna. She frowned at him…but insincerely.

Despite Taki’s misgivings, he was still glad for the chance to explore the festivities, even for a limited time. He had also heard about the processions and parades, with their dueling effigies and bawdy bards that whipped the crowd into frenzy. Now, he could get to see it for himself. He strolled down the boulevards close to the inn and let himself gaze in wonderment at the multicolored lanterns strung out between rooftops like flies caught in spider webs.

“Call me a child, will you?” Enilna laughed and poked his cheek. “You’ve gone all goggle-eyed, there.”

Taki sniffed. “Remember, we’re actually supposed to be scouting. I’m not excited. I’m trying to blend in.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I’m the responsible one, here.”

Enilna put her hands on her hips. “You’re fighting a smile. Why are you always so stiff? Just enjoy the chance to have fun.”

“How can I enjoy myself when I’m saddled with watching a kid?”

“Are you surly because you’re not arm-in-arm with your captain right now?”

“Enough about that. I respect and admire her, that’s all.”

“After I shot the duke in Kosovo, guess what I did? I stuck my hand under Lotte’s cuirass. I felt her
boob
!”

Taki blushed. “Just lay off me.”

“I’m not jealous, just so you know. I also hold her in high regard. You’ll never tumble with her, though, as high strung as you are.”

“I said lay off!”

Enilna raised her hands. “Fine, I yield. But I do think you worry too much about stupid things.”

“Then that’s my problem, not yours.”

“Look, I was going to thank you for convincing Aslatiel to let us go to the fest. Do you know what this whole celebration’s most famous for?”

Taki scratched his cheek. “Er, not really.”

“Pickled apples!”

“Sounds unpalatable.”

“Not at all. They layer slices in honey and add ginger and cardamom to the mix. My mother told me that my father got some for her once, and it was the sweetest and best thing she had ever tasted in her life.”

Despite himself, Taki found his mouth watering ever so slightly at the description. “I suppose that sounds tasty,” he said. “But where do you think we’ll find some?”

“I don’t know. That’s why we have to ask around,” Enilna said, and twirled on her feet. Her dress puffed outward in a swirl of color.

Taki started to smile.
She’s pretty, too.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Let’s go look for those apples. But we can’t get separated.” He extended a hand, and Enilna grasped it.

“Your hand’s cold,” she said. “But that’s fine; it’ll warm up. Just like your withered, old, bean-counting heart.”

“You want apples or not?”

She giggled, and they set off. Eventually, after inquiring at a few beer stands, they were directed to the only stall that had any preserved apples in stock. For the ruinous price of two rounds of Luger milligrad, they found themselves in possession of the dregs of the vendor’s last barrel of the honey-pickled treat.

“I got us some drinks,” Taki said. He sat next to Enilna on a bench and passed her a tankard. They were at the periphery of one of the city’s squares, facing a bubbling fountain.

“I thought we couldn’t have booze,” she said.

“It’s a smallbier. Really just malt boiled with some hops. I’m not about to disobey my captain’s order. She’ll smack me, and it’ll hurt like hell.”

“Irulan tugs at my ears,” Enilna said.

“You’d better not have eaten all of it already,” Taki said, eyeing the treat. “We paid far too much for too little.”

Enilna rolled her eyes. “What do you take me for, some kind of gourmand? I’m going to savor this slowly, especially after the highway robbery we just went through.”

“You know, this stuff is usually reserved for the nobles. They just make an exception during festivals. Allows the merchants to dump stock that’s going bad and make room for more.”

“You mind not shitting on my enjoyment?”

“I’m still the purser for my squad. It’s my job to shit on everyone.”

“I liked you better as the unit farmer.”

“I was never a farmer!”

“If you were, you’d enjoy this every day.”

“I’d work my hands to the bone without any assurance of survival.”

“Nothing’s guaranteed in life, Taki. That’s why you have to just let loose and enjoy things like this. Dance and drink and get in bar fights!”

“I’ve been in a bar fight. It was horrible.”

Enilna laughed. “I guess there’s no arguing with a masochist. Well, shall we?”

Taki dipped a wooden spoon into the wax-paper cone his companion held. He struggled to maneuver a small piece of apple onto his spoon without losing the fruit in the gooey mess and brought it to his mouth. Strands of stickiness hit his chin, and he wanted to wipe them away. As he had suspected, the fruit had been kept overlong and now tasted more like alcohol than apples. But the honey and spices still caused a pleasant, sweet burn in the back of his throat without being as cloying as he’d feared.

“Not terrible,” he said, and looked over to his companion.

Tears streaked down Enilna’s face as she chewed and swallowed. Taki raised an eyebrow. Surely she didn’t find the taste
that
offensive?

Her words about her mother and the taste of pickled apples came back to him.
She’s a war orphan.
The Duke of Kosovo had killed her entire family.
Of course she’s crying.
What human or witch wouldn’t? He set his tankard and spoon down and tentatively brushed her hand with his.