The Dark Glory War (18 page)

The elf’s smile broadened and rich laughter rolled from his throat. “Yes, young Hawkins, I am that old and yet older. Much older.”

“Are you actually Resolute’s grandfather?”

“No.” Jentellin’s long, black hair shifted on his shoulders as he shook his head. “In our tongue, the equivalent word is used as an honorific for elder males. My referring to him as nephew is because the same word in Elvish is used to address male youngers. Resolute is no blood relation of mine, though I do have a true nephew who is a Vorquelf, so I share Resolute’s pain.”

A captain in the Queen’s Guards, if I read his mask right, came over and executed a crisp salute which Lord Norrington returned. “My lords, the queen will be retiring for a bit and has requested your company. If you will follow me.”

“My pleasure.” Lord Norrington turned to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Find my son and Nay. Keep them under control and tell them I have an audience with the queen. If I see you again before midnight we will return to the inn together, otherwise I will make my own way there. I will prepare orders for the morning as needed. Got it?”

I nodded, then folded my hands over my heart. “It was an honor meeting you, Lord Jentellin.”

He covered his heart with his hands and replied with a nod, then the two of them departed with the soldier. I turned back toward the front of room, and after a moment’s searching, saw Nay’s red head above the crowd. I made for him and reached his side without difficulty.

He smiled when he saw me and offered me a goblet of wine. “Was for Leigh, but he’s occupied.”

I followed the line of Nay’s gaze and saw Leigh seated in a chair, surrounded by a half-dozen young women. Two wore masks, the rest did not, but none seemed older than us bv four years—save perhaps the elf. I had no idea how old she was, but she looked the flower of youth, and since she was very slender and soft and not decorated with tattoos, I assumed she was not a Vorquelf.

Leigh was flicking a finger against the temeryx feather hanging from his moonmask. “Oh, yes, our adventures have been quite exciting, and quite dangerous. I’d tell you all of them, but they are so horrifying I might make you faint dead away. I shudder to even think about some of the things I’ve seen.”

My stomach roiled as the women began a sympathetic chorus of soothing remarks, which they followed quickly by fevered requests for details of his adventures. Leigh manfully resisted, allowing as how even thinking about thinking about what he had seen was enough to make him sweat. More sympathy gushed forth in response to that ploy, which Leigh lapped up like a kitten at cream.

“Well, my fair ladies, I would not want you to think me callous in resisting your entreaties. And I must say that I flatter myself to think myself a poet. I dabble in it, perhaps as a way to give me release from the horrible things I’ve seen.” Leigh closed his eyes, lowered his head and massaged his forehead with his left hand. When the redhead on his right began to rub his right temple, he smiled wearily at her and reopened his eyes. “If you wish, I would share with you my latest. It is titled, ‘How to Vex a Temeryx.’ ”

I drained the goblet at one gulp. Leigh was all set to violate his father’s prohibition against speaking about our adventures. Granted, Resolute’s outburst had destroyed any secrecy about what we’d been through. Even so, Leigh was headed for trouble and my realization of that fact left a sour taste in my mouth.

I quickly realized that the sour taste in my mouth was not entirely Leigh’s fault. Nay’s taste in wine was horrid. The vintage had burned on the way down, puckered the mouth, and seemed to be intent on bubbling its way back up. I glanced at Nay. “How can you drink this stuff? It’s one step from vinegar.”

Nay smiled. “Got that for Leigh.” He raised his goblet. “Not the same thing in my cup.”

“And you let me drink it?”

“Figured the edge would help you think of something to do with Leigh.”

I nodded, handed him back the cup, and strode to Leigh’s side. “My lord, are you going to spring your opus on them just like that?”

Leigh looked up, momentarily puzzled. “Well, I had thought …”

“It’s a bit grim, isn’t it?” I smiled at the ladies surrounding him. “Perhaps you would entertain them with something more witty. Name rhymes and the like.”

My friend nodded and tapped a finger against his nose. I don’t know if he thought I wanted him to elicit their names so I could ask them to dance later or what, but he warmed to the suggestion of twisting their names into rhymes like a dog lying before a roaring fire. His initial efforts brought titters and giggles, which kept him going, and Nay handed him a goblet of wine to keep his mouth from going dry.

I smiled at Nay. “A few more cups of wine and he won’t remember enough of his opus to get himself into trouble.”

“It’s a plan.” Nay rested a hand on my shoulder as we headed off to get more wine. “Saw you jawing with an elf.”

“Lord Jentellin.” I sighed and told Nay everything I’d heard. He took it all in stonefaced, offering only an occasional grunt by way of comment. “Leaves me feeling kind of sorry for Resolute.”

“Yeah, though Jentellin wasn’t the only one being highhanded here.” Nay jerked his head back toward Leigh, whose cortege had expanded and resounded with giggles. “The spat made the doorman stop announcing folks, which riled Leigh, since he was deprived of his introduction. He got the way he does, ordered me to ‘be a good aide and get me wine.’ Shouldn’t have given it to you.”

“I just want to know how long I have before the poison takes effect.”

We both shared a laugh over that, then began a search for a sweet wine that had a serious punch. Once we located one we returned to Leigh, who was now standing to recite his poems, and fed him goblet after goblet. Eventually he began to quiet down and restrict himself to spur of the moment, silly rhymes based on words his audience fed to him. By midnight he was asleep again, so we took him back to the inn, swaddled him in a blanket, and laid him on the floor.

I asked Nay if we should actually do that, since there seemed to be some new straw in the bed, so it was softer than it had been when I first laid down on it that afternoon. “If we leave him there, he’ll wake up all stiff and sore.”

Nay laughed. “Oh, he’ll wake up a might worse than stiff and sore, but sleeping on the floor won’t have anything to do with it. As long as he’s going to be miserable, it might as well be on the floor. Don’t need him sleeping with us because we’ll need all the sleep we can get to deal with him tomorrow morning.” orning did come early, but not as early for us as it did for Leigh. He looked quite ashen-faced and held his head in both hands as if it were an overripe pumpkin perched precariously on his shoulders. I would have been inclined to tease him, but the low moan he uttered reminded me that Nay and I had as much as poured gallons of wine down his throat.

“Got a wineskull cure.” Nay quickly pulled on clothes and headed down to the tavern’s common room. “Back in an eyeblink.”

Leigh crawled across the floor, leaving the blanket cocoon strung out behind him and slowly dragged himself up onto the bed. The way he was moving, even an eyeblink would be an eternity to him. He sagged facedown on the mattress, sweat pasting blond hair to his forehead. He turned and looked at me with his right eye.

“Did I make a total fool of myself?”

“You didn’t vomit in the carriage.”

“That’s good. I meant at the feast.”

I pulled myself up against the headboard and hugged my knees to my chest. “The ladies found you amusing—two especially. I think they were from Okrannel.”

“Tall and blonde, like Nolda Disper?”

“That was them. I take it poetry is a novelty in Okrannel.”

“Must be.” Leigh closed his eye. “Feels like there’s a horde of gibberers in my head trying to hammer their way free.”

“Set yourself at ease, Leigh. You did nothing to embarrass your father or Oriosa.”

“The queen didn’t see me?”

“No, she was off meeting with your father.”

“And the princess?”

I blinked and slapped him on the shoulder. “You took a liking to her? But Ryhope has dark hair, not blonde.”

“Ah, but those eyes, those blue eyes. They’re as blue as … as …”

“As blue as your eyes are red?” Nay returned and kicked the door to the room shut behind him. He tossed me a small leather pouch that clinked with coins when I caught it, then he extended a steaming mug in Leigh’s direction. “Come on, your worship, your cure is here.”

Leigh rolled over with the torpidity of a well-fed pig wallowing in slop and pulled himself up enough that his shoulders touched the headboard. He reached for the mug, then sniffed it and pulled his hand back. “That smells horrible.”

“It’s for drinking, not smelling.” Nay shrugged and raised the mug toward his own lips. “Feel better or don’t.”

“No, no, no, give it to me, give it to me.” The enthusiasm with which Leigh started his command petered out at the end of it, but his fingers twitched energetically enough in the mug’s direction. Nay made sure Leigh had his fingers firmly wrapped around the mug’s barrel, then reached down and pinched Leigh’s nose shut.

“Have to drink it all, Leigh. One big drink. And chew the crunchy bits at the bottom.”

Leigh blew on the steaming liquid for a moment. From my vantage point it looked a dark purple, with little flecks of white floating around the edges. Leigh shrugged, closed his eyes and drank. His throat-knob bobbed up and down, and I saw a tear crawl down from beneath his moonmask, but he drained the cup, chewed for a moment and swallowed one last time.

Nay released his nose and smiled. “There you go.”

Leigh shook as if a snake had crawled up his pant’s leg. “Gaaagh! That washorrible] My stomach feels on fire.” He pointed a finger at Nay. “How does it work? Make my stomach feel so bad my head feels good in comparison?”

Nay took the mug from him, inspected the bottom of it, then nodded. “Just wine, garlic, willow bark, few other things. My mom does a brisk business in it after Mid-Summer’s galas and the like.”

I laughed as Leigh slumped back down on the bed and laid a forearm across his eyes. I opened the pouch and spilled a dozen silver coins into my lap. A folded piece of foolscap got stuck halfway, so I pulled it out and unfolded it. I read the message quickly, then tapped Leigh’s hand.

“It’s from your father.”

“Read it aloud. Nay can’t read it, I won’t read it.”

Nay frowned. “I can read. Some.”

“It’s pretty simple.” I cleared my throat. “ ‘Gentlemen, the present situation has made demands on my time, so I will be unavailable until midafternoon. The money enclosed is for you to use to enjoy the festival. Return here no later than four hours past noon. Yours, KN.’ ”

Leigh’s arm shifted and he looked at me with one bright blue eye. “He’s going to let us play?”

“That’s what it says.”

Leigh laughed, sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Well, then, no sense in wasting time, is there, lads?”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were so close to dead we should be digging a grave.”

Leigh stood, wobbled for a moment, then steadied himself against Nay. “That was before I learned the day was ours. Duty calls, lads. We have things to do.” He glanced at the coins on the bed. “Ah, six silvers for me, three each for you; we’ll have a grand time.”

Nay frowned. “May not read good, but ciphering ain’t hard. How do you get six?”

“Please, Nay, have you ever attended a festival with three silvers to spend? No? And did you ever lack for fun despite a lack of funds?”

Furrows gathered on Nay’s brow. “No and no.”

“Well, then, there you go. You’ll have more than you’ve ever had, and I’ll have considerably less. You’ll be exultant and I’ll be suffering, but I’ll hold up, thanks a great deal to your cure.” He slapped Nay on the back and staggered over to the wash basin to begin scrubbing up. “It will be fun, lads, you’ll see. They’ll remember the day we three came to the festival.”

Harvest Festivals have changed rather a great deal since those days. As we strolled from the city we saw nary a face without a smile—even on the guardsmen who gave us a cursory inspection to make certain we were not carrying weapons. Merchants had arrived from all over the world, offering wares native to their own lands, and various prizes they’d traded for on the journey. Jugglers and acrobats staked out small parcels of ground, performing their dazzling feats in return for whatever coins or other offerings the crowd wished to give them. I saw one man who had a dancing bear on a leash, and another tent with banners proclaiming that within we would see voluptuous dancers from far Malca reveal the seductive secrets of their veiled dances. For those who could not read, the undulating form of one woman on a small stage near the entrance conveyed the message rather clearly.

Food was available, and drink, with winemakers offering their vintages by the mug, bucket, or barrel. Food varied from some rather potently spiced gruels to fresh breads and meats that had been braised, boiled, roasted, smoked, or dried. Fish was also offered very fresh. I recognized little of it, since most of it came from the depths of the Crescent Sea, so I was thinking I’d avoid it, then a shift in the wind swirled the scent past my nose and my mouth watered.

Leigh, as expected, took charge of our entertainment and directed us away from foodstuffs and toward the various games of chance and skill. The booths with games offered a variety of prizes for those who won. Most were trinkets, including a lot of charms fashioned after the signs of the godlings of luck or fate, and the goddess of love, Euris. Many places also offered garlands of ribbons woven with little dried flowers or interwoven with herb sprigs that smelled wonder-fill. The most interesting thing about the garlands was that while they could be worn, they also could be exchanged at some of the merchants for a big mug when you purchased a small, or two chicken legs for the price of one and a half.

As we strolled through the festival, people did notice us. The fact that Leigh was once again dressed knees to throat in bright red did make him stand out. Nay and I had returned to the cleanest of our road clothes, which by no means made us look like mendicants or bandits, but made for a sharp contrast with Leigh. Our moonmasks also attracted attention, and I was very aware of the temeryx feather fluttering against my left ear. I didn’t know if those who looked and pointed and giggled behind their hands thought us just curious, or if they had heard some of what had happened the night before and were wondering at the significance of our feathers.