Dangerous Gifts Page 24

  Suddenly I didn’t want to leave him to watch Enthemmerlee. Not without someone else to keep an eye on him. “Your turn on watch,” I said, and left before he could do more than blink.

  Fain was sleeping nearby. If anything threatened Enthemmerlee, perhaps the oath would drag him awake, but it wasn’t something I wanted to put my trust in. I went to his room, instead.

  He opened his door on the first knock. He was, sadly, also fully dressed. Hadn’t anyone slept tonight? “Trouble?” he said.

  “Can you watch Enthemmerlee for a bit? I have to deal with the guard, and Rikkinnet needs to sleep.”

  “Where is Bergast?”

  “Bergast is there, and he may be effective with magic, but if someone comes screaming down the corridor with an axe in each hand, I’d rather bet on you.”

  “I am flattered. Very well.” He picked up his swordbelt and strapped it on as we walked. It had the effect of giving the Gudain robe a waist, and Fain an oddly religious look. I left him with Bergast, who was looking bewildered and somewhat grumpy, and headed out.

  I passed the seneschal on my way, scolding one of the servants, who was carrying a breakfast tray. “I will hear no more foolishness. The gentleman is a distinguished visitor. He is to eat in his rooms and you are to take his food to him.”

  “But that beast. And he looks at me as though...” The maid dropped into Ikinchli and the seneschal stiffened.

  “The lady Selinecree has given these orders. Do you wish to go and tell her that you plan to refuse them?”

  I butted in. “Seneschal?”

  “Madam. Please excuse this display.”

  I looked at the maid, and tried for a reassuring smile. “Is it Adept Mokraine that you’re taking food to?”

  She made an odd bobbing motion, somewhere between a curtsey and a flinch.

  “He’s all right. He’s a bit strange, but he won’t hurt you. Just don’t let that beast brush against you. It’s not dangerous if it does” – well, so far as I knew, it wasn’t – “it’s just unpleasant. And don’t worry if he doesn’t eat much of what you bring him, he never does.”

  “Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” She scuttled off, not looking much happier.

  “Lady Selinecree suggested he had food taken to his rooms?”

  “Yes. She thought it would be more comfortable.”

  For him, or for everyone else, I wondered? Still, it might be easier on him than dealing with the undercurrents of the dining room. Though, if he actually fed, he’d probably enjoy them.

  THE TRAINING-GROUND WAS deserted in the dim predawn light. The ground was soft after all the rain. I ran through some basic warm-up moves, then went into my standard training set, as best I could without someone to train against. Unfortunately doing it by myself didn’t distract my mind as much as I’d have hoped. I pushed harder, trying to concentrate on footwork, on speed and motion and breath; to get into that state of mind that feels mindless, where everything is focused on the motion of the body.

  I saw movement from the edge of my eye. Didn’t break the routine, slowed to a halt only at the end of the set. Tantris was watching, arms folded. “Morning,” I said.

  He nodded. He looked a little pouchy about the eyes, but he’d shaved, and his head was slightly higher than the last time I’d seen him. “So,” he said. “Can you turn my rabble into a bunch of gilded lilies, then? In time for the ceremony?”

  Sweet All, that was almost humour.

  “No,” I said. “I can’t. There isn’t time, and it’s not my job. I’m still thinking about hiring in.”

  “You’ll get nothing,” he said. “Not now. There’s a lot of nervous people out there. They’ve been hiring everything there is to hire, including foreigners, at twice the normal rates.”

  So to a populace already bubbling with tension had now been added a whole bunch of mercenaries. Now, I’m not one to make assumptions about mercenaries. I don’t have to; I’ve been one. There are a handful of decent people who end up selling sword for one reason or another, but too many of the ones I’ve met are little more than enthusiastic killers with the morals of a vulture in a famine.

  Just what Incandress needed.

  Some of my thought must have shown on my face. Tantris was watching me with a twisted smile.

  “Well,” I said. “Up to you, then, isn’t it?” And I walked away.

  It was a gamble. But I thought, or hoped, that he had some pride to salvage.

  “Wait!”

  I stopped, and turned around.

  “Last night,” he said. If he was about to make some comment about my state of dress, I was more than ready to slap him, but that didn’t seem to be it. He had his helmet clutched in his hands, and was twisting the chin-strap.

  “There wasn’t any trouble overnight, was there?” I said.

  “No. It’s just... It’s real, isn’t it? At least, they believe it is.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I...” He looked down at his helmet. “I don’t know if I do, still. But if they believe it, there’s going to be lots who do, aren’t there? Sca... Ikinchli and Gudain both.”

  “Yes.”

  He rubbed a hand over his neck and looked at me; his eyes were frightened. “I’ve been in a few scraps,” he said. “Got sent to fight in the border wars. It’s not like I’ve never seen action. But that was twenty-some years ago. And this, this is different. I’ve heard the guard. Had to pull two of ’em apart last night. Thought the whole lot of ’em were going to go at it for a minute. Never had that sort of trouble, never.”

  Or if you did, you pretended it wasn’t happening, I thought.

  “What are you asking of me, Captain?”

  “Advice, I suppose. I don’t know what to do for the best.”

  Your bloody job, I managed – just – not to say. “All right. The ones you had to pull apart, where are they?”

  “I put them in lockup.”

  “Good. Who else do you know is hard-line, one way or the other?”

  “I don’t,” he nearly wailed. “It’s never come up before!”

  “What do you fear, Captain?”

  “What?”

  “What do you fear? What is the worst that could happen?”

  “The worst? There’s a riot, someone in the family gets hurt, or killed...”

  “And why does that matter? To you. You don’t care one way or the other for the Itnunnacklish, so why do you care at all?”

  “It’s my job!” He looked down again and muttered, “It’s what I’ve got.”

  “Then do it. Dammit all, man, I used Chitherlee’s name to work them up, and I found out what she meant to them before I’d been here two days! How long have you been captaining this lot? You’ve got to know what they fear, what they’ll fight for.”

  “Well, the child, yes. They’re all fond of the child.”

  “But it’s not enough. Chitherlee’s not joining us for the ball or the other ceremonies, is she? We need ’em roused, Captain.”

  “Oh, they’re roused all right. Boiling like a pot of soup, they are.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m a waste,” Tantris said, his shoulders slumping. “You were right, I could have made something of them. Now it’s too late.”

  “You really think this is a time for self-pity?” That got me a glare. Good. “All right. I’ll talk to them. But you’d better bloody well be prepared to back me to the hilt, or I’ll see you gutted. You got any plans for the layout today?”

  “Bowmen on both the carriages, and in with the spears. Standard point and rear-guard.”

  “Who’s best with a bow?” I said.

  “Dentor. But he’s in lockup.”

  “Oh.”

  “I put them through target practice yesterday. That Sticky, she pulled a sling, got the target neat as you like. I’ve put her on top of the second carriage. She won’t have the distance of an archer, but she’s fast.” He looked apologetic. “Can’t give her a bow, see; weapon
s laws. Scalys... Ikinchli ain’t allowed edged weapons.”

  “Oh, that’s helpful. Right. Get ’em out here, Captain.”

  “What are you going to say to them?”

  “You’ll find out. Go.”

  He went.

  What was I going to say to them?

  The Avatar of Babaska; goddess of love and war, could turn a rabble into an army, could take a terrified sixteen-year-old who’d never held a sword and turn him into a battle-leader worthy of the name.

  But I wasn’t the Avatar of Babaska, not any more. I could still fight, and I could still seduce; but without the stolen powers I’d once had, how could I turn this squabbling, ill-led mess into something that would protect Enthemmerlee?

  I rubbed the scar on my jaw. It was itching. Moon’s fattening, I thought randomly.

  The moon fattens, the planes dance. It is not syzygy, but the ways are open, Ebi that was, Avatar that was.

  And there was that tickle at the back of my brain.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” I muttered.

  By ones and twos, they arrived. They did look smarter. No match for the Palace guard, but better than they had been. Even Dentor’s cronies were looking trimmed up.

  But there were still a lot of sulky faces, a lot of eyes flickering from side to side, a lot of hands gripping weapons too tight. There was more yanking their tails than Dentor and a captain who’d let the reins slacken.

  “All right!” Tantris barked. “Going to get some expert advice here. You’d better listen.”

  Not the most elaborate introduction, but it would serve. I hoped.

  I ran through the standard precautions, told them what to look out for; kept it short and simple and hoped at least some of it went in.

  “All right,” I said. “Any questions?”

  One of the Ikinchli raised a hand. “If we are attacked by Gudain, what then?”

  “What do you mean, what then?” I said. “You defend the Lady Enthemmerlee. What else would you do?”

  “If an Ikinchli harms a Gudain, is death.”

  “What? Surely not if you’re defending your sworn family? Tantris?”

  The captain shrugged. “They wouldn’t use the laws that way. Wouldn’t make any sense.”

  I wasn’t sure about that; laws aren’t always about sense. But it wasn’t as if I could get ’em changed. And guards who can’t actually risk bruising anyone are no damn use. “If you are defending your family,” I said, “I am sure people will see reason. I don’t want anyone overreacting, mind. No jumping at shadows.

  “We’re here to protect the family. I will do my job. I trust you to do yours. If you fail because you couldn’t stop something, but you tried, that’s one thing. Try, and fail, and I’ll be the last to blame you.”

  I leaned forward, and pinned the sulkiest-looking, one by one, with my gaze.

  “Fail because you don’t believe this job is worth your time, because you were lazy, or careless, or more interested in some private quarrel, and you will discover there are much worse things than being confined to barracks. Lots worse. And one of them is me.”

  There was a flicker, then. In me, and in them, as though something had run through us all, a shudder of something bright-dark and molten.

  No, I thought. Back off. I don’t want you.

  But whatever it was had gone; might not even have been anything but my own unease. A few of them looked shaken, yes, but that was what I’d been aiming for.

  “Right,” I said. “Do your job, get the family through this, and I will personally buy every single one of you enough drink to drown in as soon as Patinarai is over. Any questions?”

  There weren’t.

  “Form up,” I said.

  Running through basic drill, most of them weren’t entirely terrible. Just sloppy, out of practice, undertrained and ill-disciplined. Some took the opportunity to slack off the minute my eye was off them, while others kept going by themselves, Stikinisk among them. What she’d said about private lessons gave me an idea.

  I drew Tantris to the side. “I want four of them, two Ikinchli, two Gudain. I think I know which ones, but I need you to tell me if any of them are inclined to be a problem.” I pointed out the four I’d picked.

  “When you say ‘problem,’” he said, “what sort of problem?”

  “Any sort. Especially if they have funny ideas about the Itnunnacklish.”

  Tantris sighed. “You’ve got to understand something,” he said. “They’re bonded. A family guard... This lot may not be much, but they’re in a contract. The guard is loyal to the family, and the family to the guard.”

  “And they no longer see the Itnunnacklish as family?”

  “If there hadn’t been this talk of her having them... us... turned out, then, well, I’m not saying all of them would be happy about it, but there wouldn’t be so much bad feeling.”

  “Who started this talk?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Just started hearing it, and then it was everywhere before you could blink.”

  “Have any of you actually asked the Itnunnacklish?”

  “Speak direct to a member of the Family?” His face went slack with horror. “That’s not done.”

  Oh for... “All right. So which of them can I rely on?” I said.

  Relieved to have the subject changed, Tantris looked at the ones I’d picked. “That Stikinisk, she’s no trouble. And she’s fast. The other scaly, Vasik, yes, well, I don’t know him so well, but he’s all right. Vorenay, yes. Bassin...” He hesitated, and his gaze shifted away from mine.

  “One of Dentor’s crew?”

  He shrugged.

  “Not him, then,” I said. “The chunky lad, with the broad shoulders. Him.”

  “Koverey.”

  “He’ll do.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “You’ll see. You,” I said, pointing to Stikinisk. “Over here.”

  She stepped out.

  “And you” – I pointed to the chunky lad – “Koverey. And you” – the Ikinchli male, slight but whip-quick – “Vasik?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right. We’re making you the core. You come with me.”

  I ran them through a series of scenarios, using each in turn as a stand-in for Enthemmerlee. I worked them hard, and praised them loudly, while Tantris carried on with the rest.

  I worked them hard enough to feel it but not so hard they’d be useless this afternoon, then dismissed them. With extra praise and a nip out of my flask for the core.

  Then I went over the forthcoming occasions with Tantris. Of course he didn’t know the layout of the Ancestor Caves, but we could work out basic strategy. It’s always the same, in any case; get and stay between the target and any trouble, and if the trouble gets more than you can deal with, get the target away, whatever else is going on behind you.

  In some ways, the Enkantishak ceremony was the most worrying in security terms. A huge cave, with only one entrance or exit. A good thing for stopping the dodgy getting in. A decidedly bad thing if the dodgy were already there and you wanted to get your client out safe.

  The ceremony sounded simple enough: prayers to the ancestors, then something called the Ipash Dok, which was a ceremonial gift, a sort of box, which Enthemmerlee would lay on an altar, and open. It was supposed to contain the hopes of the supplicant, or something.

  A box with hope in it sounded like a good thing, but for some silly reason it gave me a little chill, as though it reminded me of something I’d rather forget.

  ON MY WAY back, I saw Dentor slouching among the outbuildings. There was something about the way he was walking that gave me pause. His usual thug’s stride had a furtive slither about it. Besides, he was supposed to be in lockup.

  I decided it wouldn’t hurt any to see where he was going. I had an itchy feeling about Dentor. First I’d knocked him off his perch, then Tantris had started taking back some authority, and Dentor struck me as the sort who might get spiteful.

  A barn, still re
latively sturdy, stood by itself, being slowly strangled by those same hairy grey vines that grew all over the captain’s garden. These, perhaps getting more sun, had broken out in unwholesome-looking fleshy pink and yellow flowers, as big as my hand and none the prettier for it. They put me in mind of wounds that were going bad.

  I saw a flicker of pale blue inside the barn: someone there, waiting. Dentor took a last look around, and stepped inside.

  I edged around until I was under the nearest trees; I couldn’t get any closer without giving myself away. All I could hear was a faint murmur of voices. Dammit. The place might have been specifically chosen with an eye to its lack of cover.

  Dentor hadn’t struck me as that sharp. Maybe I’d misjudged him. Or maybe he wasn’t the one who’d chosen it.

  Then I heard a laugh... a female laugh, in that low register that, done right, is like a well-placed touch. It’s a talent, a laugh like that; I’ve never quite managed it.

  Seduction. And Dentor, of all people.

  Well, so much for that. The rain had gone from misty to damn near solid so I trudged off before I could drown where I stood, feeling somewhat foolish.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON I changed, again – Bergast wasn’t the only one who needed some laundry done – and lined up with the others by the main doors, all in our finery; well, everyone else was, and I’d given my gear as much of a shine as I could. Fain had managed to get his clothes cleaned and had obtained, from somewhere, a very fancy embroidered cloak with a high ruff collar; unlike the rest of Gudain clothing, it suited him. I had no idea where Mokraine had wandered off to.

  I could hear the tramp of feet outside; the guard. I bit my lip, wondering what state they’d be in.

  The seneschal opened the doors.

  For a wonder, it had stopped raining. Low light flooded the courtyard, and the guard, and dazzled back from button, boot and helm.

  On closer inspection, the spit-and-polish job was pretty hasty, but all things considered, it wasn’t bad. The captain himself was in what I assumed was his seldom-used kept-for-best uniform; around the middle the buttons were straining so hard that if the thread gave way they’d be making holes in passers-by, but at least they were shiny.