Warrior (59 page)

“He finishes off the letter with
Please give my respects to Ruxton, and the boys, and tell Elezaar I
beat Almodavar—again—although the old fossil insists he let me win. Damin
. And there’s a postscript,”

she noted, with a shake of her head.
“By the way, Mother, would it be terribly difficult to make Starros
the lord of something when he finishes his apprenticeship with Orleon? With all these people dropping
like flies from the plague, there must be a vacancy somewhere?”

“Actually, that last suggestion about Starros may not be a bad idea,” the dwarf said.

“It’s his first one that bothers me. Should I do as he asks, do you think?”

“Tell Lord Damaran there’s no chance you’ll allow his daughter to marry Damin? You should have done it years ago, your highness.”

“If I do it now, there will be speculation that I have chosen a bride for my son.”

“If you do it now,” Elezaar countered, “most people are so concerned with the plague, that the betrothal of your son, or the lack of it, will barely rate a mention.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she mused. “I can just imagine how uncomfortable it must be for both Damin and Leila.”

“Then put them out of their misery. Write the letter.”

She nodded, thinking the time had probably come to do just that. Mahkas would understand.

“I’ll do it in the morning. In the meantime, I suppose I’d better be getting down to dinner.”

“They’ll wait for you, your highness.”

“Did we ever get a message from the Sorcerers’ Collective explaining why Alija didn’t come to the funeral?”

“Not a word,” Elezaar confirmed. “Perhaps the High Arrion has succumbed to the plague herself? She didn’t look well when she left here the other day after Master Tirstone passed away. In fact, she fled the house like all the demons of the Harshini were on her tail.”

“I could never be that lucky,” Marla sighed, thinking how convenient it would be if the plague removed Alija and a few other enemies she’d dearly like to be rid of before it was done. Pity there wasn’t a way to select whom it killed. “Go downstairs and let them know I’m on my way, would you?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough for dinner, your highness?” Elezaar asked again, clearly worried about her. It wasn’t an idle concern. They’d had plague in the house now. Despite all the precautions she had taken to keep Ruxton isolated, there was no telling how many of them would fall victim to it.

“I’m not ill, Elezaar,” she assured him. “Just weary.”

“It’s all right to grieve for him, you know,” the dwarf told her gently.

She turned to him sharply, angered by his presumptuousness. “Don’t try to second-guess me, Fool.”

“I’m sorry, your highness,” he said, instantly contrite. “I will deliver your message. Was there anything else?”

“No. Just leave me be.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

Marla heard the door close behind the dwarf and turned to look at her reflection again. She hadn’t cried much when Laran died, too overwhelmed with guilt at the thought that his death might be some sort of punishment for her infidelity. She’d not cried when Nash died, either. The hypocrisy of weeping for a man she had arranged to have assassinated was too much, even for Marla. She barely even noticed when Jarvan Mariner passed on, too involved in securing his vast wealth and furthering her ambitions for her son.

But Ruxton was different. They’d been married sixteen years. He was a friend, not a lover.
One
should be allowed to weep for lost friends
.

So she did. For one small instant in time, Marla let down her walls, put her head in her hands and wept for Ruxton Tirstone.

From the moment Luciena mentioned she was interested in purchasing ships from the Fardohnyans, King Hablet’s entire demeanour changed towards his reluctant houseguests. It made her very suspicious, but Xanda seemed unsurprised. According to her husband, trade was such a fundamental part of the Fardohnyan makeup the king probably didn’t even realise he was doing anything differently now he’d smelled a whiff of profit on the wind.

As Xanda predicted, after the restrictions of a sailing ship, the children had run riot through the palace. Luciena couldn’t blame them. After being confined on board for weeks, and trapped in a city riddled with plague prior to that, they were thrilled to finally have the illusion of freedom. Every time she tried to scold them for their unruly behaviour, however, Xanda stopped her.
Let them go
, he advised.
They’re only children
. Xanda claimed Hablet wasn’t that bothered by the children, anyway.

Oddly enough, the Fardohnyan king seemed rather fond of them. But her riotous offspring drove that slimy little eunuch, Lecter Turon, quite insane. And that, Xanda claimed, made it all worthwhile.

Luciena was inclined to agree. There was something about the chamberlain that set her teeth on edge.

She was not the only one who thought that way about the eunuch, Luciena soon discovered.

Hablet’s eldest daughter, Adrina, had a similar opinion of her father’s closest advisor and made no secret of the fact.

The princess had shared her dislike of the chamberlain with the entire dinner party a few days after they first arrived at the palace, making some rude comment across the table about Lecter that had her father guffawing with laughter and the chamberlain shooting her venomous looks that did not augur well for her future.

Adrina appeared unconcerned. She was a dusky, exotic, green-eyed creature with some indefinable quality about her that made men stop and take a second look. She wasn’t pretty the same way her younger sister Cassandra was. Luciena wasn’t sure what it was about the young princess, but even Xanda remarked on it.

Striking
, he called her, not beautiful.

Of course, the fact that she usually dressed in the traditional Fardohnyan manner, which left her midriff bare—from just below her ample breasts to just below her jewelled navel—may have had something to do with the reason every man in the room followed her with his eyes whenever she graced them with her presence.

Adrina had a reputation for being rather difficult. Luciena had found her quite the opposite. She was charming, spoke Hythrun with barely a trace of an accent, and was frighteningly well educated. She had a sharp wit and a clever sense of humour and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, even when she knew her father wouldn’t approve of her opinions. Confined to the harem unless granted permission by the king to leave, however, Luciena usually only saw her at dinner on the nights Hablet desired her company.

But today Luciena was visiting Adrina and had been allowed, for the first time, to step into Hablet’s legendary harem.

Luciena wasn’t sure what she was expecting. A room crammed with terrified women, she imagined, all primping and preening themselves, waiting to be chosen by their king for a night of desperate pleasure, hoping their performance was enough to catch his interest so they might be asked back for a return visit, perhaps. But to her surprise, the harem, as it turned out, wasn’t even a room.

It was more a palace within a palace. Behind the harem walls were extensive gardens, a number of large buildings that housed the living and sleeping areas of the complex, a separate nursery and school for the children, their own kitchens, entertainment areas, even stables and a round yard where the royal children learned to ride. Nor was the harem confined to women. There were male slaves everywhere she looked (all eunuchs, Luciena suspected), a number of Loronged male
court’esa
who probably doubled as entertainment for the women and tutors for the children, depending on their area of expertise. Along the high walls, a contingent of Palace Guardsmen patrolled the wall-walk, although whether they were there to stop anybody breaking in or to prevent the residents from escaping, Luciena couldn’t say for certain.

Across the lawns, the laughter of several children chasing hoops around a larger pavilion caught her attention.

“Luciena!”

She turned as Adrina hailed her from a small, silk-shaded pavilion set amid a flower-filled grotto on her left. The male slave leading her through the gardens bowed silently and walked away. Adrina indicated Luciena should sit on the small chair by the table.

“Good morning, your highness,” she said, taking the proffered seat. Adrina’s slave stepped forward and proceeded to pour wine for them both. When the slave was done, the princess waved her away. “Leave us, Tamylan.”

The slave bowed and silently withdrew, leaving Luciena alone with the princess.

“Do you have harems in Hythria?” she asked Luciena, taking a sip of her wine.

Luciena shook her head, quite certain the princess already knew the answer to her own question. One didn’t learn to speak a language so well without knowing something of a nation’s customs.

“No, your highness,” she replied with a smile. “The men of Hythria find it hard enough to handle one wife, although it’s not uncommon for a married couple to keep a number of
court’esa
on staff.”

“Does your husband keep
court’esa
?”

“We have two,” Luciena confirmed. “One of them is a singer of some renown. She was a gift from Princess Marla on our tenth wedding anniversary. The other is a delightful young man, who, I have to admit, I bought for his accounting skills rather than his sexual prowess.”

“Is your husband in love with his
court’esa
?”

Luciena looked at the princess oddly, thinking it a very strange question. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“You’re lucky, then. My father is always falling in love with his
court’esa
. Never his wives.”

Luciena thought it very sad that Adrina should have such a gloomy outlook on life. “I’m sure your mother and father love each other very much, your highness.”

Adrina laughed sourly. “My father had my mother beheaded when I was two months old, Luciena. She tried to poison the
court’esa
he was in love with.”

“Oh,” Luciena said, not sure how else to respond to a revelation like that.

“Tell me about Hythria,” the princess ordered abruptly. “Is it true the Sorcerers’ Palace was built by the Harshini?”

“I believe it was.”

“And is it true your High Prince spends most of his time having lavish orgies in his roof garden where he engages in a wide range of perverted sexual practices involving young boys, animals and sick blood rites?”

Luciena almost choked on her wine. “I couldn’t really say, your highness,” she replied evasively.

Adrina smiled. “It’s all right, Luciena, you’re not giving away any state secrets. Everybody knows what the Wolfblade family is like.”

“And what exactly
are
they like, do you suppose?” she asked, rather taken aback by the young woman’s obvious contempt for Hythria’s royal family.

“Wasteful, perverted, irresponsible . . . we have competitions, sometimes, to see who can think of the most adjectives.”

“Are you aware, your highness, that I am an adopted member of this family you so casually malign?”

“Of course I am,” the princess shrugged. “But you want to buy ships from us, so, in my father’s mind at least, that cancels out any negative feelings he may entertain towards you regarding your family ties.”

“And what about in
your
mind?”

Adrina thought about her answer for a moment. “I worry for Hythria.”

“That’s very generous of you, your highness.”

The young woman smiled at Luciena’s tone. “Look north sometime, my lady. Karien is full of the Overlord’s fanatics and Medalon is ruled by an atheist cult. It is left to Fardohnya and Hythria to ensure the Primal Gods are worshipped in the proper manner. Without us, the Harshini will never be able to return. I worry for Hythria, because if your nation gets much weaker, either Medalon or Karien might decide the apple is too ripe to leave hanging on the tree unattended.”

“You judge us far too harshly, your highness.”

“I don’t think so,” Adrina said. “Or can you give me reason to hope? Is Lernen’s successor going to do any better? I hear he’s rather fond of horse racing. Definitely a sign that he’s a serious and thoughtful ruler in the making.”

Luciena shook her head, unsure what she was supposed to say. Such cynical contempt was quite unexpected from one so young. “Did you invite me here just to point out the failings of my family?”

Adrina bowed her head apologetically, perhaps realising she might have overstepped the mark.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t invite you here to upset you. Or insult you. In fact, my reasons are quite the opposite. I invited you here to warn you.”

“About what?”

“About the danger you and your family are in. I’m not the only one in the Summer Palace who thinks this way about the Wolfblades, Luciena.”

“Do you know of a specific danger, or are you just cautioning me to be on my guard?” she asked warily.

“Oh no, the danger is very real and quite specific. If I were you, I’d be making arrangements to get out of here, my lady, and I’d be doing it today.”

Luciena stared at the young woman suspiciously. “And why should you want to warn me?

Particularly if you think so little of the Wolfblades?”

The princess smiled. “Because in helping you, I hinder Lecter Turon. Any small thing I can do to thwart that devious little worm’s plans is a win for me. And trust me, Luciena, when I warn you that he
has
plans for you and your husband. And your children. Take my advice. Get out of the palace. Today, if you can arrange it. Just get out of Talabar while you still can.”

Luciena rose to her feet, putting aside her wine. “I must thank you for the warning, your highness.”

“I want your word, though,” the young woman added, “that you’ll never reveal it was me who tipped you off. My father tolerates me interfering with Lecter’s plans because it amuses him, but there’s a fine line between interference and treason. Betray me, and I’ll be executed.”

She was quite serious. There was no trace of humour in Adrina’s remarkable green eyes. They were outlined in kohl this morning, making them even more striking than usual.