The Dog of the North (26 page)

It was this which brought Lord Thaume south only weeks after his victory at Jehan’s Steppe. Duke Panarre had learned that Thaume intended to exact ransoms from the captured nobility of
Mettingloom, and summoned him south that a suitable tribute to himself might be negotiated. Lord Thaume, who normally would have ignored such a demand, felt bound to accede on this occasion as the
price of introducing his children into the court at Glount. The time approached when a marriage would need to be arranged for Siedra: ideally to Panarre’s eldest son Trevarre, although other
expedients might be necessary. Panarre would be likely to raise the question of uniting his lackwitted daughter Klaera with Oricien, a prospect which could only be resisted most strongly. It was
not out of the question that Guigot could be offered in this context, although Thaume could already hear the imprecations from his nephew should he raise the topic.

Arren had heard much of Glount, and expected anticlimax, but he was impressed in spite of himself at his first sight of the city. It was hidden away behind three hills, each
topped by a castle – La Bastia, Castella and Fortessa – and appeared cramped against the shore from the high perspective of the traveller looking down. Ships teemed in the sheltered
horseshoe of the bay, some the distinctive cogs of the North, more galleys from Garganet and Gammerling. Even from this distance, the place teemed with a visible vitality. Away to the east, the
River Lynnoc bustled down to the sea, with the palace of Duke Panarre set against it.

Coppercake was riding alongside Arren. ‘Glount. I hope you are prepared.’

‘How could it be otherwise, Master Coppercake? All I have heard for the past week are your tales of how the citizens spend their days mulcting each other of coin, and their nights engaged
in debauchery of every dye.’

Coppercake chuckled. ‘I may have exaggerated a little, or at least glossed over the mundanities. But if you wonder at my facility with mathematics, it is because you learn it early in
Glount, or you are rooked.’

‘We will not be visiting the city, at least not immediately,’ said Lady Cerisa. ‘Lord Thaume intends us to proceed directly to the palace.’

‘Perhaps for the best,’ said Arren. ‘I do not care to be rooked on my first day.’

‘I am keen to visit the Molo,’ said Lady Cerisa. ‘It is where
The Masque of Louison and Eleanora
reaches its tragic conclusion.’

Arren had found
The Masque
– a tale of lovers thwarted by destiny, improbable coincidence and a large measure of their own stupidity – a vapid experience, but Lady Cerisa had
insisted they spend a tedious two weeks watching and discussing the play. He had no desire to explore the matter further during his sojourn in Glount. Conceivably Siedra could be persuaded to
accompany Lady Cerisa on her visit to the Molo.

Master Guiles rode back from the head of the column. ‘We are approaching the gate. Full decorum is in order. You may find the folk of Glount somewhat haughty. Do not bridle at their
inspection; they will take it as a sign of low breeding, and mock you the more. At the palace matters should proceed with greater punctilio.’

‘I would add my own advice,’ said Coppercake. ‘Do not part with coin under any circumstances. You can be assured that the seeming bargain is not. If you are offered a house for
a single florin, you may guarantee it is haunted, cursed, or worse. You should not undertake any transaction without my guidance.’

The party drew up outside the eastern gate of the city. The walls reached high above them, the towers grasping for the sky above. Glount had only once fallen to invasion, and that through
treachery rather than assault.

Lord Thaume dismounted from his strider and approached the gate on foot. With the hilt of his sword he banged three times on the great doors. ‘I am Thaume of Croad,’ he called.
‘I am come at the command of my overlord, good Duke Panarre of Lynnoc. May I gain admittance?’

From the gatehouse issued a squadron of ten or so soldiers, immaculately attired in uniforms of forest green, the sleeves slashed to reveal a lighter green which also coloured their
four-cornered hats.

‘You are welcome to our city, my lord. I will call upon the seneschal.’

One of the guards returned to the gatehouse, returning with a man of late maturity, his sober black coat and breeches given life by a scarlet neckcloth and hat.

‘Lord Thaume, you are welcome. It has been too long since you were in our city.’

‘Seneschal Tourmi, I am of course delighted to be here. I confess myself surprised that Duke Panarre is not here to take my obeisance.’

‘Regrettably the Duke is otherwise occupied. Many affairs of state press upon him. He will greet you at the banquet in your honour tonight. Now, please enter our city. The Cavalieres will
escort you to the palace.’

Lord Thaume remounted his strider and rode into the city, followed in precise order by Lady Jilka, Oricien, Siedra and Guigot. The other members of the party followed in a more random
configuration.

Some twenty Cavalieres, in the same green uniforms as their comrades, led Lord Thaume’s entourage through the streets. Master Guiles sniffed as he rode alongside Arren. ‘Things go
ill here,’ he said. ‘There are two clear breaches of protocol already.’

‘How so?’ asked Arren. These matters were generally tedious, but he was coming to realize that much lay below the surface of such niceties. If he was to be insulted, it would be
useful at least to know it.

‘First,’ said Master Guiles with a didactic nod, ‘Duke Panarre did not greet us himself. In certain circumstances this is permissible, but he should at least have sent a member
of his family in his stead. Tourmi would only have been appropriate had our party been led by Sir Langlan or a person of similar stature. Second, a guard of twenty Cavalieres is disparagingly
small. The Lord of a great city such as Croad should command a hundred, or even more.’

‘What does Duke Panarre mean by such discourtesy?’ asked Lady Cerisa. ‘Lord Thaume is coming to make good homage.’

Coppercake laughed. ‘Panarre may be a grand lord,’ he said, ‘but he has the blood of Glount running in his veins. He is concerned to ensure financial advantage over
Thaume.’

‘I fail to understand,’ said Arren.

‘Panarre wishes to take a share of the ransoms Thaume will gain from Jehan’s Steppe. He intends to put him in his place from the outset. If rumours are to be believed, he also wishes
to marry a daughter to Oricien or Guigot: in this case he will wish to minimize the dowry he has to pay.’

Lady Cerisa frowned. ‘Should not a duke be too proud to dicker in this way?’

‘You have much to learn about Glount, my lady,’ said Coppercake. ‘In the eyes of his people Panarre gains merit by such ploys. You cannot imagine that Lord Thaume has brought
me to the city for my conversation or my red hair: I am here to count his fingers to ensure none has been purloined.’

6

The evening saw the promised banquet in Duke Panarre’s palace, an imposing structure of marble chased with gold; gardens and grounds rolling over many acres. Arren
could hear the sea crashing against the shore in the background, and the air had a fresh crispness he had never known in Croad.

The diners were arrayed over two tables. At the intricately carved Ducal Table, spread with rich damask, sat Duke Panarre and his lady Fourette beside Lord Thaume and Lady Jilka. In the places
of honour next to them were their various connections: Panarre’s sons Trevarre and Dinarre and his daughters Helisette, Genevieva and the lackwitted Klaera, plus Oricien, Siedra and Guigot.
To his surprise, Arren was placed at the same table, even if at its foot.

The second table, with Seneschal Tourmi at the head, was for servants of greater or lesser stature, including Masters Guiles and Coppercake and the former Serjeant Fleuraume, now a captain in
his own right.

As soon as everyone had taken their places and the minstrels had ceased their lays, Duke Panarre stood and raised his hand for silence. A man of late maturity, he had an easy confidence that
held the attention. His cheeks were the veined purple of the habitual drinker; his lips full, red and moist. He carried off an outfit of scarlet and cerulean velvet without embarrassment.

‘Lord Thaume, you are most welcome to my city,’ he said. ‘It has been too long since you graced us with your wisdom and counsel. I could never have imagined that young Oricien
and Siedra would grow so fast, so strong and so handsome. If this matter is apparent to me, imagine the impact it has made on my children, ha ha! Lady Jilka, your beauty is unimpaired by the
passing years: would that time were as kind to us all! Tales of your legendary piety have reached us—’ Lord Thaume could not repress a grimace, as Panarre seemed to notice
‘—and it seems unfair to the rest of us that such pulchritude, wisdom and humility should be united in one person.’

Lady Jilka inclined her head to the most fractional extent possible.

‘All will wish to hear the story of your great victory at Jehan’s Steppe – would that I had been able to be there myself at the head of a mighty force of Cavalieres – but
tonight I pray that you submit yourselves to the hospitality of our city. Some say we are sybarites, given over only to our own pleasures. Such caricatures are the work of envious minds, but none
can deny that when we apply ourselves to festivity we are not without talent or imagination. Frivolity is a serious business, if I might be permitted a quibble. Lord Thaume, Lady Jilka, and your
companions: I hope your visit to Glount is a memorable one.’

Duke Panarre sat down with a dramatic sweep, brushing his scarlet cloak aside when it threatened to become entangled with his person. At the other table Arren saw Guiles and Coppercake
whispering; trying to calculate, he thought, the number of slights and insults buried in Panarre’s speech.

Lord Thaume rose from his seat. In contrast to Panarre, he was dressed in ascetic black from head to toe.

‘My lord, I am grateful for your fulsome welcome to your city and your palace. It is indeed all too long since the cares of Croad have allowed me to leave the city behind. Ever since my
accession, careful vigilance has been necessary against the men of the North, all the more so because of the small number of troops at my disposal. It is only with the check to King
Tardolio’s warlike ambitions that I feel able to leave Croad in the hands of a capable lieutenant. Like yourself, I am astonished to find your children so grown. Indeed, Lords Trevarre and
Dinarre are now young men, even if they still await the chance to show the world their martial prowess. Such fine young men will make bold and brave husbands to certain fortunate ladies of the
future. As to your trio of beautiful daughters, I have no words adequate. Reports of Lady Helisette’s comeliness are not exaggerated, and Lady Genevieva displays even greater elegance and
grace than might be expected from her illustrious pedigree. Lady Klaera is fortunate to have such a family to care for her needs, and perhaps in time may even find a husband among the minor
gentry.

‘I see the footmen descending with the first course, and all folk of good sense will wish to apply themselves to your repast rather than to my words, so I do not have time to praise
Duchess Fourette as she deserves. One need only to look at the five remarkable fruits of her womb to know how to assess her worth. Sir and madam, I thank you for your welcome and
hospitality.’

As he sat down, Master Guiles nodded in satisfaction. Lord Thaume had shown that he was not cowed by Panarre’s innuendoes. This was war, if not as overt as Jehan’s Steppe.

Arren lost track of the number of courses. He had never realized there were so many ways to prepare potatoes, or that beef could be garnished with lemons and redders, or how many different wines
the slopes of Lynnoc produced. He was seated between two mature ladies, who favoured him with little attention, until the point where the wine took hold, and one began to simper at him most
alarmingly. The appetites of Glount were notorious, but Lady Sybille must have been at least fifty, and corpulent to boot. Master Guiles had not provided instruction in dealing with such
situations.

During the meal he took the opportunity to appraise Duke Panarre’s children. Trevarre took his attire most seriously, and his costume had more lace than most of the ladies present. His
every utterance was grand and dramatic, accompanied with gestures so extravagant that Arren feared for the wine flasks on the table. When the conversation moved away from the topics that interested
him – which appeared to be few – he pouted until such time as he could wrest attention back to himself. Guigot appeared simultaneously repelled and fascinated. He loosened his own
garments and seemed to be doing everything possible to create a slovenly impression, despite reproving glances from his uncle and aunt.

Young Lord Dinarre had sharp regular features and plentiful dark hair. His clothes were rich without showiness, and he had a ready wit and smile which he deployed upon Siedra. Arren recalled
that he had a reputation for cruelty, and he saw in the rich sensuous lips he had inherited from his father signs of a vicious disposition.

Arren was more favourably impressed with the ladies. Lady Helisette, as the eldest daughter of the Duke of Lynnoc, was one of the great prizes of the Emmenrule, and nature had endowed her with a
beauty and vivacity to make the most of it. Oricien seemed enthralled by her curling golden hair and innocent blue eyes. A stern critic might have observed that her conversation tended towards the
vapid, but Oricien appeared ready to overlook the fault. Arren remembered that Master Guiles had rated the chances of a match as minimal, but Oricien seemed nothing daunted.

Lady Genevieva had not the instant and captivating beauty of her elder sister. Nonetheless she impressed Arren with her quiet intelligence and good humour, and her attention to Lady Klaera, for
whom eating a meal of many courses without embarrassment was a significant achievement.

At last the final course appeared, accompanied by a strong, sweet, dense wine which at once thrilled and repelled: rather like Glount itself, thought Arren. Duke Panarre led a toast to his
guests and suggested that Lord Thaume might wish to join him and sample together some pleasures not suitable for mixed company. The other guests, seemingly, were at their own devices.