Todd and Daniel exchanged a glance.
‘I get the feeling,’ said Todd, ‘that our friend just wants an excuse to bash people’s heads in.’
Gaimer laughed. ‘Maybe you’re right. It’s just that I’m bored out of my mind hanging around the barracks all day while the troopers drill in the yard. The commanders have nothing for us to do, so we each try to look busy, when in reality we’re doing sod all. At least some action would break the monotony.’
Todd raised an eyebrow. ‘You could always apply to go to the Bulwark.’
The three young officers roared with laughter.
‘Thank Malik he’s gone,’ Daniel muttered as he walked along the edge of the gardens with Todd.
‘Who, Gaimer? Have you fallen out with him?’
‘No, it’s just that I can’t speak in front of him. I’m too nervous I’ll say something that’ll get back to Clarine’s family.’
‘Ahh,’ said Todd. ‘That explains the way you were behaving. Still pining after Clarine? I thought you blew that at graduation?’
‘I thought I had too, but after a dozen letters of apology, her family finally replied a few days ago. My mother will have me flayed if I mess it up again. Look, I wasn’t lying to you before; I don’t want to marry her, but my mother’s threatening all kinds of savage reprisals if I try to back out of it.’
Todd shook his head. ‘You wrote her a dozen letters?’
‘I may have written them, but my mother dictated the words, then stood over my shoulder to make sure I got them right.’
‘Lady Aurelian is a fierce woman.’
‘She’ll be fierce if I’m late for dinner tonight.’
‘Wait, are you using your ten-day pass for that? You’ll miss Conrad’s birthday this evening; we’re all hitting the bars by the waterfront.’
‘I know. What can I do? Mother insisted; said I couldn’t miss it.’
‘Oh Danny, sorry to be the one to say it, but the chaps in the mess are already referring to you as a mummy’s boy, and this is hardly going to improve your reputation.’
Daniel shrugged. ‘I don’t give a donkey’s ass what the “chaps” think.’
‘You’re not making many friends in the militia, Danny. Aside from me and Gaimer, that is, but we already knew you. You should maybe try to fit in a bit more, otherwise people will just assume…’
‘Assume what?’
‘That you’re being a stuck-up Aurelian who does whatever his mother tells him to.’ He smiled. ‘Sorry. I say it as a friend.’ He gestured towards the entrance to the barracks’ mess-hall. ‘This is where I leave you. Have a wonderful evening.’
Daniel stared at Todd for a moment, his rage simmering below the surface. Is that what they all thought of him? He had only partly been telling the truth before; the jibes of the other officers had hurt, though he hadn’t let it show.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said. ‘The waterfront, did you say?’
Todd grinned.
‘A drink for Prince Michael!’ a drunken lieutenant called out from atop a bar table.
The crowd of young officers roared and raised their glasses. Most of the locals had cleared out of the bar not long after their arrival, leaving the ensigns, lieutenants and the odd captain alone to occupy the tavern. A couple of off-duty sergeants had wandered in, but had left as soon as they had seen the officer insignia emblazoned on every sleeve.
Daniel swayed as he downed the exorbitant but cheap-tasting brandy. The tavern-keeper was probably rubbing her hands with joy at the gold the officers had been handing over for her low-quality fare. A couple of officers slapped him on the back as he slammed the empty glass onto the counter.
‘If you break it, you pay for it,’ said the serving boy from behind the bar.
Daniel reached into his pocket and threw some gold onto the counter. ‘That should cover any breakages in advance. Now, fill up the glass; no, in fact, just give me the bottle.’
The serving boy swept the coins into his hand, then glanced at the tavern-keeper, who was standing with her arms folded, eyeing her rowdy customers. She glanced at the gold, nodded, then resumed her stance.
Daniel took the bottle and turned. Rival regimental songs were competing, as groups of officers cried out the words; out of tune, and out of time. Daniel laughed at the cacophony, and raised the bottle to his lips. His stomach rumbled, and he frowned. He was hungry; he should get something to eat; maybe think about dinner.
Dinner.
He lowered the bottle, a sick feeling replacing the hunger in the pit of his stomach. The raucous shouting, singing and laughter seemed to fade away as he pictured his mother’s anger. He needed to get away, but without making a scene.
‘Hey, Danny,’ said Todd, approaching him from along the bar; ‘you’ve got a bit pale; you alright?’
‘Just a bit drunk. I think I might be sick.’
‘Not surprised, if you’re swigging it from the bottle.’
‘Have some,’ he said, passing the bottle to Todd. ‘I’m just going to pop outside and throw up somewhere not too obvious.’
Todd frowned at him. ‘You will be back though, yes?’
‘Five minutes, that’s all I’ll need,’ he said, ‘unless I’m lying unconscious in a gutter covered in vomit; in that case you’ll have to come look for me.’
He heard Todd’s laughter as he staggered to the door. He dodged a swaying group of singers, their arms round each other’s shoulders in an unsteady circle as they made up new, and increasingly vulgar, verses of their regimental song. He slipped through the door and into the dark street.
He kept his pace to a stagger until he reached the corner of the building, then broke into a run. He passed the harbour front on his left, and turned up one of the well-lit streets towards the centre of Tara. The houses were all detached, two-storey villas, with wide balconies, where many families were sitting, enjoying the warm evening air. The quickest way home was right through the middle of Prince’s Square, past the enormous marble fountain with a gigantic sculpture of Prince Michael as a child swimming with dolphins, then towards the ridges of the Sunward Range.
He slowed to a walk as he crossed the great plaza, the fountain spraying water high into the dark sky; the droplets glistening in the light of the many lamps that ringed the square. He avoided the strolling couples and the peasants selling roses, and kept his head down as he attempted to walk in a straight line, with only the occasional sway giving any notice of his inebriation. His guts churned as he walked, from the combination of no food and lots of nasty spirits, and it was with a sense of relief that he started to climb the steps that led up the ridge to Princeps Row and the palace. There were many ways up to the aristocratic and royal quarter of the town, and he had selected one he hoped would be quiet, and one where no carriages would be able to knock him over if he stumbled.
He glanced at the sky as he ascended the switch-backed steps. He had lost track of time in the tavern; hours could have passed. He smiled. Despite the coming storm, he didn’t regret going out with the other officers. He didn’t like them, but at least they had seen him join in, if only for a while. He prayed to Malik that his early departure wouldn’t have been noticed by too many. The state they were in, they would be lucky to remember anything.
The top of the stairs joined a road that snaked up the side of the hill, and Daniel trudged on, each step an effort. The refrain from his regimental song came into his mind for some reason, and he mumbled the lines as he made his way along the road. Maeladh Palace loomed up to his left, the front portion spread out over a terrace that jutted from the hillside. The gates to the palace were at the end of the paved road, and Daniel was about to take the side-branch that led to Princeps Row when he saw the palace gates swing open. A carriage raced out, pulled by six white horses, their hooves pounding off the cobbles. Daniel jumped to the side of the road, and stared as it passed.
He squinted. Lord Kano? What was he doing so far from the Bulwark? He stepped back out onto the roa
d and watched the carriage as it disappeared down the hill. Why would Duke Marcus’s Adjutant be visiting the God-Queen? The demigod had been on the losing side of the Civil War, as were the rest of the traitor Prince Isra’s children. Kano had then been taken under the wing of Duke Marcus, but his bloodline showed, and he had a reputation for cruelty and brutal ruthlessness.
It was what the Bulwark needed, he supposed; iron discipline.
He turned back to the side-branch of the road and continued on. Trees thick with leaves lined the way, and beyond glistened the domes and towers of the enormous mansions that housed the City’s best families. The Aurelian mansion was the biggest of them all. The Chamberlains claimed that theirs was bigger, as the entire extended family lived within a wing of the palace, but that ridiculous claim didn’t count. Stupid Chamberlains, he muttered to himself as his guts groaned again.
The front of the Aurelian mansion was obscured by a thick fence of hedges and trees, and as he staggered up the driveway, he saw a carriage parked outside the front door. He heard the crunch of boots on gravel, then noticed a small group of people by the carriage door.
‘My humblest apologies for wasting your time this evening,’ he heard his mother say. ‘One can only presume something unexpected has occurred; I pray the boy hasn’t fallen into the bay.’
A lower voice replied, but Daniel couldn’t make out the words. He stumbled round a row of shrubs, and staggered out by the carriage. Three people turned to him; his mother, Clarine’s father, and Clarine herself, wearing a long dress with a veil covering her face.
‘Daniel!’ cried his mother. ‘Are you alright, darling?’
‘I’m fine,’ he muttered. He swayed, groaned, fell to his knees, and vomited all over Clarine’s dress and her father’s high, leather boots.
The pale, pink light seeping through the shutters hurt his eyes, and he closed them again.
His bed was warm and comfortable, and as long as he didn’t try to move his head, pain-free. Why did he have a headache? Had he been out…? Oh yes, he remembered, he had been drinking with the other officers. Memories came back to him in bits and pieces. The drunken regimental songs, swigging brandy from the bottle, throwing up over Clarine…
He shot up in bed, then immediately regretted it as the pain behind his eyes pounded out afresh. He groaned, rubbing his temples. Clarine. Malik’s ass, what a mess he had made of everything. If only he hadn’t listened to Todd, and gone straight home. It would even have been better if he had stayed out all night with his colleagues; coming home drunk halfway through the evening had been the worst of all possible choices. He swung his legs onto the floor. And now he had to get back to the barracks before work began, otherwise he would forfeit his next ten-day pass. At least the other officers would be as hungover as he was.
He stood, and dressed in silence, pulling on his spare uniform as his other was reeking of booze and had vomit splashes down the front of the tunic. His hair was a wild nest of tangles, and he needed a bath, but his desire to get out of the house unseen was more important. He crept out of his room, and descended to the ground floor of the mansion. The front door was too obvious, so he sneaked through the quiet and cold hallways until he came to a side entrance. Just a few more yards to go.
‘Sit,’ said his mother’s voice.
He jumped, then turned. His mother was sitting by the glass doors of the veranda in her dressing gown, a mug of something in her hands.
‘I’m not going to ask you again.’
He glanced around. ‘How did you…?’
‘Honestly, Daniel, you’re so predictable. Except for last night. That, sadly, I did not predict.’
He stood in an awkward silence for a moment, then sat on a comfortable couch by the wide windows.
‘I need to be at the barracks on time.’
‘If you left now, you’d be an hour early, dear.’
He frowned. He should have glanced at the window-clock in his room, but had been in too much of a panic. His mother signalled to a servant. ‘Get my son a glass of water, and have it flavoured with fresh mint; his breath stinks like a sewer.’
The servant bowed, and walked away.
Daniel attempted a smile. ‘Is it time to write another letter?’
‘I’m afraid we’re a little beyond the letter-writing stage. Your antics last night have destroyed any last hope I had of continuing with the engagement. I’ve already sent a short note this morning to break it off formally.’
Daniel felt an intense surge of relief but tried to hide it. ‘Why?’
‘To prevent her family from doing it first; that would have been the final humiliation. It will be bad enough when the Chamberlains find out, at least this way we emerge with a shred of dignity. Not that it matters; the Aurelians are a laughing stock, or they will be as soon as word gets around.’
His mother seemed calm, which made Daniel’s nerves screech with anxiety. She had made no demands for an apology, or an explanation, as if she had moved beyond the point of simple rage.
‘I’m sorry.’
Her serene countenance almost cracked, and he edged back in his seat. ‘Too late for “sorry”. The only useful course open to us is to plan our way out of this catastrophe.’
‘Do you have a plan?’
‘I have several. Unfortunately for you, many of them end up with your head on a stake by the side of the hedgerow, dear. Do you have the slightest notion of how much money last night’s little escapade has cost us? Your father and I invested thousands in your engagement, merely to match the bribes the Chamberlains paid out to every noble family with an eligible daughter to refuse to speak to us. Clarine’s family have done very well out of this. They took the Chamberlains’ money, and then they took ours as well. We now have to start right at the beginning again, only with our funds in rather a depleted state.’
‘I’ve let you down.’
She frowned at him. ‘If all you can do is utter banalities, dear, I’d prefer you kept quiet.’ She sipped from the mug and Daniel noticed that her gaze continued to avoid him. The servant re-appeared with a glass on a tray, and Daniel took it. He sipped, savouring the fresh, clean taste, then downed it in one, his parched mouth wanting more.
‘The problem,’ his mother went on, once the servant had departed, ‘is that I have already approached, and been rebuffed, by every major family line in Tara. Thanks to the bribes of the Chamberlains, none of them wish to discuss any possibility of marrying into the Aurelians. Therefore, to find you a wife, I must be prepared to lower my sights. The middle-classes are absolutely out of the question, so I am left with one alternative; I must turn to Ooste, Port Sanders or Dalrig, and begin my search anew.’
‘You’d let me marry a Gloamer, or a Reaper?’
‘Of course not! Don’t even think of such foolishness. The Aurelians have always intermarried with Rosers, and always will. Fortunately for us, there are a few Roser families living outwith our territory, many of whom are clustered around the Royal Academy in Ooste, or live in the large estates by Port Sanders. It’s true that some of them have “gone native”, so to speak, but as long as their blood is Roser, I’m prepared to overlook any rustic elements that may have entered their speech or manners. Once your bride is firmly ensconced within the four walls of our home, I can get to work on eliminating any bad habits.’
‘Won’t Lord Chamberlain have bribed them as well?’
‘Possibly. If it comes to it, we can sell the family villa. It would be a pity, but we have the mansion here, and that may have to suffice.’
Daniel groaned. The best memories of his youth were centred around the vacations they had taken every winter to their estate in the countryside. The sprawling villa was surrounded by acres of vineyards, and was miles away from the eyes of prying neighbours.
‘I shall start with the territory of the Sanders,’ she went on. ‘The Rosers there will be most grateful to learn that someone is interested in elevating one of their number to a higher station. From bordering the Ci
rcuit, to the heights of Princeps Row; quite a leap it would be for one lucky girl. My first question will be to ask if they still have all of their own teeth, and then I shall check their hands for calluses; you can’t marry someone who has toiled in the fields.’ She eyed him. ‘These are the depths to which we have sunk, Daniel; I hope you are proud of yourself.’
He didn’t want to say it, but a farm-girl from the citrus groves of Sanders sounded far preferable to being joined to Clarine’s family. Anyone other than an aristocrat from Tara, sounded fine to him.
He stood. ‘I’m off to the barracks, mother.’
There was a moment of startled silence as he walked into the regimental mess-hall, followed a second later by a roar of laughter. Daniel’s cheeks flushed as he stood frozen to the floor. Lieutenants were miming throwing up at him, their glee at his humiliation evident. He scanned the room for Todd, but his eyes noticed someone who wasn’t laughing.
‘You!’ cried Gaimer, his face red with fury.
Daniel felt an urge to flee, but his feet wouldn’t obey.
‘You utterly embarrassed my cousin, you cad,’ Gaimer said, walking right up to Daniel and pointing a finger in his face. ‘You made a fool out of my whole family.’
Daniel’s shame started to edge towards anger. ‘They only cared about the money. I’m sure with all we gave them, they can afford to clean some sick off a dress.’
He pushed past Gaimer as the atmosphere in the room quietened. The officers who had been laughing were now watching, their eyes wide.
‘You besmirch my cousin’s honour?’ he heard Gaimer bellow behind him. ‘Get back here, Aurelian; face me like a man.’
Daniel halted. Aurelian? Gaimer had never addressed him by his family name before. Daniel, Danno or Danny, but never Aurelian.
Officers moved out of the way to clear a space round where the two men were standing. There was no one in the room with a rank higher than lieutenant, so it was unlikely that anyone would intervene if a fight broke out.
The Mortal Blade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Magelands Eternal Siege Book 1) Page 12