A Time of Dying (Araneae Nation) (11 page)

“As I said, Paladin Hishima is quite interested in Paladin Vaughn’s offer of cooperation. He has accepted the invitation to Cathis. He will adjust his plans and should arrive within two days.”

“Two days.” The sharpness of my tone made him wince.

“Paladin Hishima was out on a hunt when I caught up to him. He’s very near the border their clan shares with ours. He wished only to bathe and properly groom before continuing to Cathis.”

“A hunt?” I laughed. “What does he know of bows or swords or traps? Nothing.”

There was but one animal he hunted, and she sat at the Mimetidae paladin’s table.

“Kaidi, that’s enough.” Murdoch’s hand on my arm was a warning. To the herald he said, “I will make Paladin Vaughn aware that his guest intends to arrive much sooner than he expected.”

The herald passed over his scroll. “What message do you have for Paladin Hishima?”

“I’m a simple guardsman.” Murdoch traced his finger over the herald’s ornate scroll. “I lack the flowery words that Paladin Vaughn would no doubt prefer to pass on to Paladin Hishima in a time like this, when such pleasantries oil the hinges of a gate they want open between our clans.”

“Should I wait for the paladin to rouse?” Floyd offered.

“Tell Hishima Paladin Vaughn looks forward to greeting his southernmost ally and that he anticipates discussing plans for the unification of their clans. Tell him there will be a feast held in his honor upon his arrival, and another held on the day of his departure to rejoice in their newly forged alliance. Tell Hishima those things, and he will be salivating to make his grand entrance.”

Floyd’s fingers twitched as if in need of a quill and paper. “Sweet lady, do I know you?”

I gave him the best smile I was capable of after his announcement. “I am Kaidi.”

“Ah.” His face lit with recognition. “Paladin Hishima was most concerned about you.”

“I’m sure he was.” I imagined I felt his icy fingers closing around my neck as we spoke.

Beaming, Floyd added, “He will be very pleased to see you.”

“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “He will.”

Turning to Murdoch, Floyd asked, “Shall I pass on Partisan Kaidi’s wishes to her paladin?”

Partisan.
How outdated the term seemed. Or perhaps I found its masculine tone more fitting for a future paladin than a future maven. It seemed I had been a maven-in-waiting for years now. I suppose I had. My betrothal to Hishima had stretched for far longer than I heard was proper.

Murdoch gave him leave. “I trust you to twist her words to fit Paladin Vaughn’s tongue.”

“That I can do.” Floyd bowed deeply to me. “It was my pleasure meeting the female who so utterly won her paladin’s heart. Have you any personal message you wish me to convey to him?”

My instinct was to hiss and spit
no
, but I found myself nodding. “Tell Hishima I’m waiting.”

The herald’s pleasure was apparent, as was Murdoch’s confusion. “I will tell him.”

Once Floyd made his final bows, he departed. Murdoch and I were left alone. He sat by me.

“Are you going to explain the secret in that message?” he finally asked.

I kept my eyes downcast. “My intentions seem straightforward to me.”

“You told a male you despise that you’ll be waiting for him.” Murdoch leaned his chair back as if to put distance between us. “If I were Hishima, it would be what you didn’t say that alarmed me.” The chair’s legs hit the ground. “You said you would be waiting, but I’ll bet Hishima hears the same warning I did. That you’ll be waiting—with a sword or ax, not with welcoming kisses.”

“To have known me for so short a time, you read me very well.” It unnerved me.

“Unlike some, I enjoy reading.” He grasped my chin. “Your face is an open book.”

I let him stare, hoping he wasn’t telling the truth. “Do you enjoy riffling through my pages?”

His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “Far more than I should.”

I wet my lips and the tip of his finger. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me for last night?”

“You did me no harm last night. You only hurt your own cause.” He withdrew his hand, and he stood. “Much like the girl who cried canis, I can only take you at your word so many times.”

And much like the girl in the fable, one snap of Hishima’s jaws and he would gobble me up.

I did not see Mana that morning. She and Vaughn had a council meeting to attend. No doubt they intended to discuss their strategies for wooing Hishima with the elders of their clan. For my part, I picked at my meal and avoided Lleu in the hopes Murdoch might forget his earlier decree.

It didn’t help. Wearing Lleu’s shirt was the same as waving a flag under Murdoch’s nose. It was shortly after we finished eating that he delivered me to Mana’s bathing room and ordered me to change. I was all too glad to relinquish Lleu’s coarse shirt for Mana’s softer one. While I had a moment alone, I searched every nook and cranny with no luck. Mana must have kept my chain.

I figured she would, but I was willing to be proven wrong.

“Are you finished yet?” Murdoch’s voice carried to me through the door.

“Almost.” I righted a planter I had tilted during my search.

After one last slow examination of the room, to make sure everything was put back to rights, I opened the door and found Murdoch standing with his fist raised. Poised for another knock and bellow, I’m sure. For a male who must regularly attend the maven, his manners were very rough.

He picked at my fresh shirt. “That’s better.”

“What should I do with this?” I held out what I had borrowed from Lleu.

Fisting the collar, Murdoch tossed it into a corner of the room behind me. “Leave it there.”

“Why would you do that?” I whirled, intending to rescue the shirt from the floor.

Murdoch flung out his arm to block my way. “I said leave it.”

“Fine.” I set my jaw. “Have it your way.”

Seemingly confused by my capitulation, Murdoch stared at me. When I continued to act as if his stubbornness didn’t cause me ulcers, he cupped my elbow and led me in a different direction than we usually took. This route bypassed all familiar landmarks, and with a hearty shove, we left the Tower Square through a high arched door and mingled with the thin crowd on the city streets.

“Where are we going?” Not that I minded an opportunity for fresh air.

His pace made conversation hard. “The paladin instructed me to escort you to the tailor’s.”

“I have no need of new clothes,” I assured him. “I’m content wearing Mana’s castoffs.”

“You don’t have a choice. He expects you to be dressed properly when Hishima arrives.”

My steps dragged. “Hishima would understand my state of dress was my own fault.”

“When you were found, yes. Days afterwards, no. Once your status was made known, it was Paladin Vaughn’s duty to cater to you as he would expect another paladin to indulge Mana were they ever to be parted. It’s a show of respect,” Murdoch said. “Surely you must understand that.”

“I’ll be bathed, dressed and made presentable.” Painted like a doll. “I understand my place.”

“If you insist on mocking the trappings of your station, then why accept Hishima’s proposal in the first place?” His question was rude, prying, but his tone conveyed hints of honest curiosity.

“I was in love.” I fluttered my hand over my heart. “Why else?”

Bitterness gave his words a hard edge. “Few can afford such a luxury.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I tried making light of his disdain. “If an ill-suited couple pays for their socially advantageous match in misery each day for the whole of their lives, the cost of marrying for love may not prove as steep as they first suspected. Why, after a few years, the ill-suited pair could afford to indulge in such frivolity as the love match already enjoys, with far less misery.”

“Is that what love is to you?” His dark eyes gleamed. “A frivolity?”

“No.” It was the commitment of a lifetime. “It’s the only reason worth consenting to marry.”

“What happens when that affection dies?” He peered so deep into me, I had to glance aside.

“Once a commitment is made, it can’t be unmade.” Even if I wished it were so.

“So you would agree to marry for love, on the expectation that love would carry you through a lifetime?” He puzzled out my reasoning. “Yet if that affection dies prior to the union, you don’t think it a worthy reason to dissolve that relationship? Where is the sense in that? It is ridiculous.”

I gave the only answer I could. “I have never claimed to be reasonable.”

“Gods know that’s the truth.” He was still shaking his head when we arrived. “Here we are.”

The shop we entered was open on two ends with nary a door in sight. Rich fabric hung from the rafters and was piled on the floor. Silver and gold beads caught sunlight and blinded us as we passed their respective displays. Jewel-toned scarves were looped in chains that ran the length of the shop. Their festive colors reminded me of Titania on Radiance Day, a day when our city took pains to celebrate each color found in the prisms of the crystals we all earned our living crafting.

“You must be Kaidi,” a chirping voice perked up my ears.

“How did you know?” My gaze darted around the room, but I spotted only Murdoch.

“Business is slow with all the females…indisposed. It was a safe assumption you were my appointment.” The voice came again, closer. “Besides, you carry the Segestriidae accent in your speech.”

I had just completed a turn when a mound of vivid scarves appeared to detach from the wall and drift toward me. A swirl of color and whisper of cloth revealed a pudgy face wreathed in the squarest smile I had ever seen. I briefly wondered if the tailor—and who else would skulk about this gem of a shop affecting such odd airs—had false teeth. He noticed me staring and chomped.

I stumbled back against Murdoch’s chest. His arms rested on my shoulders and steadied me.

“Enough, Stefan.” His glare appeared to subdue the bizarre tailor.

“I meant no harm.” Stefan spread his hands wide. “None at all. Just a simple amusement.”

“I was not amused.” Murdoch’s grip relaxed. “Neither was she.”

“Such is the fate of our fair city.” The tailor swung a bolt of fabric in his arms and held it to my cheek. “This will do. Lavender for her eyes. Or—no.” He flung that aside and hefted another. “Yellow for her hair? Sunlight in a gown. Yes.” He frowned. “No. How about this one instead?”

“This one.” Murdoch’s voice went gruff as he indicated a soft pink silk.

Cunning glittered in Stefan’s eyes. “Rosebud lips. What tender petals those must be.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Murdoch’s glare urged the tailor’s prompt scuttle into a far corner.

The round male returned grasping measuring tools that could double as torture implements.

“This won’t take long.” Humming, Stefan fit his hands to my waist. “Be gone, guardsman.”

“Murdoch?” Panic lifted my voice high.

“Take the measurements through her clothes,” he said. “My orders are not to leave her side.”

“The fit will leave much to be desired if I do.” Stefan sniffed.

“You have two days to sew her gowns and the paladin’s permission for private fittings in her rooms at the Tower Square. I vow that Paladin Vaughn will reward you for your understanding.”

“Reward? Oh, I like those.” The sparkle rekindled in Stefan’s eyes. “Can you read tape?”

“I can.” Murdoch took a slender strip of leather from the tailor’s hand. “What of it?”

“My apprentice handled measurements for me.” Stefan brushed a scarf from his forehead. “I lost him to the plague and haven’t had time to select a suitable replacement. I wonder, could you lend me your sight?” He batted thick lashes at Murdoch, who cringed from his pale, cloudy orbs.

It was hard to tell at first because of how he flitted around the room, but I began to wonder if his jostling of tables and scattering of wares was more than an eccentricity worthy of Isolde. I bet he saw nothing at all the way he bumped his hips from one table to the next to find his way.

But that assumption made me curious. “How did you know the color of the fabrics if you can’t see your tape?”

“It’s my shop.” He righted a spool of ribbon his bumbling had unseated. “I would hope I knew where everything was within it.”

“And my coloring?” I pressed. “How did you know—?”

“
How did you know? How did you know?
” he parroted. “My sight does not affect my brain, you know. You are betrothed to a paladin. Even if Maven Mana had not told me you were childhood friends, even if she hadn’t mentioned how she envied the shade of your hair or the paleness of your eyes, I knew the Segestriidae paladin would not wed a female from his own clan unless she was a flawless example of all their people’s finest attributes.” He hopped from foot to foot. “Are there any more hows or whys you would have me answer? Any other faculties you question I lack?”

Shamed by his sharp tongue but grateful for the excuse, I asked Murdoch, “Is there another tailor we might visit?”