Covenants (13 page)

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Authors: Lorna Freeman

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Covenants
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The welcome lieutenant let out a sigh. "Well, if that's what you want to do, sirs." He sighed again and nodded at the clerk. "We will follow you to the ambassador's residence." He looked back at Suiden.

"Although I doubt, sir, that you will be able to fit your full complement in the residence.”

"I'm sure we'll be able to work something out," Suiden said. He turned and looked at Groskin. "Give the command to move out, Lieutenant.” At Groskin's shout, we swung up on our horses and followed the Royal Garrison lieutenant and the clerk, the church clergy staying with us—apparently to bless away any ill intent from the waterfront's denizens. As we moved through the streets I tried not to gawk, but I was seeing things I had only heard about—and had dismissed as untrue at the time.

"There's something about sailors that draws whores like flies," Groskin said as he rode next to me, his mouth quirking up—after he first glanced ahead to make sure the arch-doyen was out of earshot.

"Almost as bad as soldiers.” The prostitutes in Freston never looked as raddled as these poor drabs. (I guess there was an advantage to small town living.) One full of pockmarks caught my eye and, after she gave a great hacking cough and spat out what was left of her lungs, smiled, showing blackened teeth. I snapped forward as I heard snickering behind me. I made another rude gesture, then worried that she would see and take it as an invitation. Until we rounded a corner, I sneaked glances back to make sure she wasn't following.

We wound through the Royal City's streets, our surroundings improving until we were riding down broad boulevards and through large squares. The bubble was back, the city's folk doing a double take and then giving wide berth to our party, their eyes wide as they realized that the large cat walking out in front of us was real. The sun beat down and I wondered how Laurel could stand the heat of the paving stones against his bare pads. My toes curled in sympathy. Or at least they tried. I'd sweated so much in my boots that my feet were drowning.

We turned the corner and were in another large square, the center full of trimmed grass, flowers, clipped bushes and trees. We edged along it until we came to a large house and stopped. Losan turned to the Faena.

"Your residence, Ambassador."

"Where are his guards?" Suiden asked, his brows raised.

"Uh, I'm sure they'll be along soon," Losan said, looking at the lieutenant.

"Not my jurisdiction," he replied, shrugging.

"It's just as well, then, that we came here," Suiden said, swinging down from his horse. He walked up to the door and knocked. We waited. He knocked again. We waited again. He tried the door and it swung open, showing a darkened hall with no one in sight. "Where are the embassy servants?"

"Normally ambassadors supply their own," Losan said.

"Yes, but Commander Ebner's missive stated that Sro Laurel had no retinue."

"Uh—”

Suiden sighed and came back to Laurel. "It is, then, just as well that we are here." He looked at Losan. "I am sure that you will see that the ambassador receives all the servants he needs to run his embassy.”

"And who will pay their wages?" the clerk asked, recovering. She stared down at the Faena, who stood there wearing only beads and feathers, his mouth open as he panted in the heat.

Laurel gave a slight bow. "Do not worry, honored— hmm—do not worry. The High Council took into account the need to support myself. I have more than enough to take care of any expense.”

"The kingdom does not recognize Border coinage," Losan said. "We've heard about fairy gold.”

"As I have no fae gold, there's no problem." Laurel turned and looked at the dark—and cool-looking—interior. "But why are we standing out here when we could be in there?" He didn't wait for an answer but started up the walk to the door.

I swung down from my horse, followed by Groskin and Jeff. We got in front of the Faena and entered first, scanning the foyer. It was like entering a cool cave and Laurel gave a sigh of relief as he reached the hallway tiles. "Much, much better," he murmured. He turned and caused the clerk, who had followed behind us, to step back again.

"Sweet river of life—”

I figured she wasn't talking about the Banson as it flowed through the city. I glanced at Laurel and saw his amber eyes were glowing in the dimness. They winked out as he gave a long, slow blink, then came alive again. I looked back out the door and saw our escorts had clustered around the door and were staring at the Faena too, the arch-doyen's mouth pulling down at the corners. Out beyond them were the troops. I could see Ryson with the luggage carts and behind him, Slevoic leading the spare horses.

"If you would please, Javes, secure the premises," Suiden said, from the street. "I will go with the lieutenant from the garrison to present the dispatches.” As Suiden rode off with the welcome lieutenant and the church contingent (Doyen Allwyn looked longingly over his shoulder at us), the troop moved in.

It was a large, graceful house, cool in the afternoon heat with smooth walls, colored tiles and arched hallways. It was built around a courtyard, full of lush plants filtering green light through the windows.

Some of the ground floor rooms had glass doors and when we opened them, we could hear the splash and tinkle of the fountain in the courtyard center. There were fruit trees and shaded nooks with benches, paving stones and grass, flowers and lattices. I stood at a door, inhaling the fragrance, when the wind sighed and once more I caught scent of the sea.

It was a large, graceful, empty house. Each room was bare—no furniture, no window coverings, no rugs.

The kitchen didn't have a pan, plate or spoon. It did have an indoor pump, and there was one outside by a small vegetable and herb garden that Basel clucked over, but ho bucket in either place. We opened a shed and there wasn't a hoe or rake to be found.

"Sheesh," Jeff murmured, looking into the shed's corners. "They've even taken the cobwebs.”

"The ambassador is responsible for furnishing the embassy," Losan said, when Captain Javes confronted her on the house's bareness.

"I see," Javes replied. "And if there's a pressing need for a chamber pot before he can buy one, what is he supposed to do?” At his words several men shifted uneasily as they were made aware of their own pressing needs (the tinkling fountain didn't help).

The clerk went to a door set discreetly under a staircase and opened it with a flourish. "The water closet." Her face declared us provincials. "There are others throughout the house.”

"Is that what that is?" Jeff whispered behind me. "Ryson thought it was a cistern and filled his waterskin from it.”

"Oh, jolly good. Indoor plumbing," Javes said. "Now"— he waved his hand around the room—"what about the rest?"

"The ambassador is responsible—"

"And so it will be taken care of," Laurel said. "If you will give me the name of a banker, please."

"Banker?”

"So I may establish an account, no?" Laurel blinked again, then opened wide his eyes, his pupils dark and large, and the clerk shifted her feet. "I am sure the one who services the king will be fine."

"The kingdom doesn't recognize Border coin—"

"I heard you the first time.”

There was silence while Losan worked out that she really couldn't ask the Faena what he was going to use as money. And that she had pushed the limits of her welcome. Laurel's tail lashed one way, then another, and she shifted again.

"Uh, yes, Ambassador. When would you like an escort?"

"Do we have enough food for tonight, honored captain?”

Javes looked at Basel, who nodded. "Yes, sirs. For tonight and a couple of meals tomorrow.”

Laurel blinked again. "Come for me tomorrow morning, then.”

A quick bow and a quicker pace, and very shortly the front door opened and shut behind her.

I had followed just to make sure she didn't get lost on her way out, and I started to return to the others when the door opened again. I turned around and saw Slevoic, his uniform plastered to his body with sweat, the aroma of horses hanging heavy around him. He stepped inside, crowding me. "Well, it's my Lord Freak Sweet Cheeks.”

I crowded back. "What interesting dreams you have, Slevoic."

"Let me tell you my dreams, puke—"

"No, thank you. Not on an empty stomach.”

"Oh, Slevoic, you're back." Captain Javes came wandering into the entry hall, followed by Groskin. "Are the horses all settled?"

The lieutenant moved away from me. "Yes, sir.”

"Very good. Please help Groskin with the room assignments. And Rabbit"—Javes gave me the same narrow-eyed stare I last saw on Suiden—"you're with me.”

As was predicted, it was a tight fit, with some in bedchambers, some in the servant's quarters, and some in sitting rooms, dressing rooms, and rooms that we had no idea what they were intended for. The only ones who had chambers to themselves were Laurel Faena, which we figured was all right as it was his embassy, and the death staff and dragon skin, warded in a closet, which nobody wanted to be around anyway.

Suiden returned as the sun sank towards the horizon, casting long shadows in the courtyard. I had convinced Laurel to sit on one of the benches to catch the afternoon breeze, and the rest of the men had decided that it was a good idea. We filled our waterskins from the fountain after the Faena cupped a paw, drank and declared the water fresh (Groskin made Ryson throw his skin away and wash his mouth out with the remaining soap) and we plucked fruit from the trees. There were all sorts, and Basel rubbed his hands together in glee as he went from tree to tree, making schemes for breakfast. I chortled myself when I found the pomegranates. It was only the second time that I had the tart small-seed fruit, and my lips and chin were stained red from its juice when Suiden entered the courtyard. There was a general stir as the troops tried to find the energy to stand, but the captain had pity and motioned for us to remain as we were. His green eyes caught the sun's last rays as he headed my way and I scooted over to make room for him to sit.

"Well, that was interesting," Suiden said.

Javes had sat on the grass (after spreading his kerchief) next to our bench, and he now lifted his head to look at Suiden out of wolfen eyes. I passed a pomegranate to the captain, who took his dagger and cut it open. Taking a bite, he sighed in pleasure and settled against the bench's back, dirusting his booted feet out. He swallowed and released another sigh. "That's good." He listened to the fountain in the darkening courtyard for a few moments. "We are assigned to Ambassador Laurel until such time as the ambassador provides his own guards.”

Javes nodded while Laurel purred. "Excellent, honored captain.”

"Commander Loel did think that Lieutenant Rabbit should be reassigned to the Royal Garrison, but I pointed out that Ebner had made Rabbit liaison to Sro Laurel. And that only the Lord Commander or King Jusson could countermand his orders.” I had lulled myself into thinking I was going to be ignored but at Suiden's words my shoulders tensed.

"So for now, we all abide here," Suiden finished.

"Very good," Javes said as he leaned back against the bench leg (also draped with a kerchief) and rested his arm on his raised knee. "You know, after pushing Commander Loel so hard, you'll probably remain in Freston for the rest of your natural life." Javes' voice was very soft.

"There are worse commands, Javes, in worse places. Besides, I don't see you campaigning so hard to leave." Suiden's voice was equally soft.

"As you say, my dear captain."

Chapter Twenty-two

I bunked with Groskin, Jeff and another trooper that night in a second story room, all of us starting in our bedrolls, but soon crawling out of them in self-defense against the heat. Groskin did not argue when I threw open the windows that overlooked the courtyard—the room had ventilation openings on the opposite wall, so we had a cross breeze. While it wasn't unbearable, to those used to mountain climates it came close.

The next morning after a breakfast that featured Basel's fruit creations, Losan eso Dru showed up with two of her sister clerks. I was outside in the courtyard with Jeff, marveling—from a distance—at the big, many-colored spiders and speculating on the odds of them finding their way into our sleeping quarters.

(We got a little quiet when we found a rather large lizard caught in one web, and we gave the weavers even more room.) When I felt a touch on my elbow, I nearly shot out of my skin. I snapped around, expecting to see an eight-legged beastie crawling up my arm. Instead, Groskin stood there, and I held my lips tight at his grin.

"Captain Suiden wants to see you two." Groskin's grin widened. "Though I'm sure that you've time to change your uniform, Rabbit, if you need to.” I almost but didn't quite make a rude gesture at him (old fears die hard) as we followed the lieutenant into a salon where Suiden's Perdan rug had been rolled out on the floor and his folding table and chairs placed on top. Suiden stood beside Laurel, who sat in one of the chairs, facing Losan and the two other clerks, and Captain Javes was propped against the wall next to the door that led into the interior hallway.

"Ah. A moment please, men," Suiden said when we walked into the room. He turned back to Losan.

"The Border will not be responsible for the Royal Army's upkeep and, as this is not a barracks, we have permission to outfit ourselves as befits an ambassador's residence.”

"We should take over this duty, Captain." Losan gave a smooth smile. 'This will keep both you and the ambassador from any hint of impropriety.”

"Oh, I say, one of Gherat's clerks in charge of army procurement?" Captain Javes asked. "What would the Lord Commander say to that?"

Losan's smile slipped a bit.

"I will keep the accounts," Suiden said, "as per regulations."

"Yes, but—”

"You overstep yourself, Losan eso Dru," Laurel rumbled. "Iversterre was informed of my coming and the reasons for my solo state. Yet upon my arrival I am thrust into an intolerable situation, and every protest is met with excuses, justifications, and rationalizations. Now you wish to push yourself into the running of my household." Laurel stood and grabbed his staff, which leaned against the wall, then faced the trio of clerks. "Enough. You have no authority here." He started for the door. "I will be ready in half an hour.

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