by Steven Brust
“And yet,” said Uttrik, “I am worried that—but stay a moment. Tazendra, what is it that your lackey is holding?”
“Eh? Why, yes. What are holding, Mica?”
“A letter, my lady.”
“A letter?”
“So it seems to be.”
“And to whom is it addressed?”
“To Lord Adron,” said the clever Teckla, who had learned his ciphers sometime during his early career, a fact which even Aerich did not hold against him.
“How?” said Adron. “A letter for me?”
“So it seems to be, Your Highness.”
“From whom?”
“As to that, I have no idea, Your Highness.”
“But,” said Khaavren, “where did you find it?”
“In Lord Garland’s pouch, which he left behind him after it was cut from his waist by Count Shaltre.”
“What is this,” said Tazendra sternly. “You have looked through the gentleman’s pouch?”
“Yes, exactly, my lady,” said Mica complacently. “There is no crime in that, for I am not a gentleman.”
“That is true,” said Aerich, after which he murmured, “This notion of Tazendra’s lackey, will, in time, get entirely out of hand; I must mention it to her.”
“And there was a letter for me in it?” said Adron.
“Yes, and the proof is, here is the letter.”
Mica handed the letter to Tazendra to give to His Highness, which she promptly did, but only after glancing at the seal. “Why, faith,” she said, “it is from His Majesty.”
“His Majesty?” said Adron. “Garland had a letter for me from His Majesty which he failed to give to me?”
“I think,” said Aerich to Pel, “that it will go hard with Garland when this is communicated to His Majesty.”
“And when it is communicated to Seodra,” said Pel.
Adron broke the seal and read the letter, then read it a second time, and even a third time. When he began to read it a fourth time, Khaavren said to Tazendra, “I nearly think His Highness is startled.”
Adron, who happened to overhear this remark, said, “Well, I am. Look, His Majesty not only forgives me, but apologizes to me; it is remarkable.”
Pel said, “If this letter was to be given to Your Highness by Garland, and if Garland is Seodra’s creature, well, I am not surprised that he was slow in giving it.”
“Well,” said Adron with a shrug, “I have it now.”
“And will Your Highness,” asked Aerich politely, “condescend to accompany us back to the city?”
“I will,” said Adron, “for I think that there are events stirring of which I ought to be a part, and I accompany you the more gladly because of the esteem in which I hold you.”
“Well, then,” said Khaavren, “it remains for us to find another horse. The one Mica has been riding will do for me, and I will happily surrender mine to His Highness, but, unless we wish to leave our servant in the dust, we had best procure another.”
Uttrik said, “There is a post-station a short distance down the mountain which, as it is maintained by the Empire rather than by the Marquis, ought to still be manned.”
“It will be enough,” said Tazendra, “if it is horsed.”
There was nothing to say after this profound observation, so they set off across the field, walking their horses, and in this way arrived at the post, where Aerich showed the Captain’s letter to the officer. In this way they procured the additional horse, which was, in fact, such a fine animal that Adron took it, after which they continued back the way they had come, returning to Mount Bli’aard and Bengloarafurd. We should note that certain of the residents seemed surprised to see His Highness happily riding knee-to-knee with individuals whom he had proscribed and condemned a week before, but no one said anything, presumably attributing this change in attitude to the right of princes to be as capricious as they wished.
When they neared The Painted Sign, they stopped their horses, as if by a common thought, and looked over the site of the battle. Lord Adron took his hat off out of respect, and studied the grounds. “I perceive the marks of a flash-stone,” he said, pointing to a place above the hill.
“That was mine, I believe,” said Pel. “It seems to have scored the rock upon which Mica was stationed, and where he delivered the famous blow to the head of one our attackers. The Horse, but I think he nearly cracked the scoundrel’s skull for him, which was no more than he deserved.”
Mica shivered with pleasure at the honor he had been paid by this reference to his deed, while Khaavren looked the other way along the path and said, “There, that is the tree we used for a rear-guard, Uttrik and Aerich and I. In faith, I had thought it rather larger than that.”
“It was large enough,” said Aerich.
“I wish I had been with you,” sighed Kathana.
“As do I,” said Adron.
“Bah,” said Tazendra. “It would no longer have been fair. Besides, Aerich would have then required us make a frontal assault, and, in faith, well, some of us might have been injured.”
“You are not far wrong,” said Aerich, and they continued on their way.
They stopped at The Painted Sign to enjoy a repast and for Lord Adron to consider if he ought to return to Redface for any reason, or whether it was enough to write to his steward about his plans. They were treated quite royally by the host, who very rarely had to do with an Heir at his inn, so the wines were all back-of-the-cellar and the meats were prepared with especial care. Lord Adron, in between eating and thinking, which activities he was, in any case, accustomed to perform together, told the host and anyone else who would listen of the recent exploits of his traveling companions, which caused Aerich to shrug, Pel to smile, Khaavren to blush, Kathana to consider more closely her food, Uttrik to look nervous, Tazendra to look haughty, and Mica to positively glow.
Adron had come to the decision to write, and was on the point of calling for pen, ink, parchment, and blotter, when he was interrupted by the arrival of a small girl, who did him a courtesy, placed a scrap of paper in his hand, and dashed off without waiting for a reply.
Adron frowned and said, “Well, that is peculiar.”
“How peculiar?” said Tazendra, who had been so intent on her meal that she had not noticed the arrival of the messenger. “It is merely a duck which has been covered with wild plums before being baked like a loaf of bread. For my part, I find it excellent.”
“How?” said Pel, ignoring Tazendra. “Your Highness doesn’t know this messenger?”
“Not the least in the world.”
“Then she was merely a messenger,” suggested Khaavren.
“But from whom, and for what? For, you perceive, we have not been here so long that my presence could have become generally known; not, at any rate, at the fort.” Such was the way, we should point out, that Adron always referred to his home. “Nor, certainly,” he added, “to the Empire.”
“Well,” said Kathana, “perhaps if Your Highness would read the message, it would explain.”
“Perhaps not, too,” said Pel.
“I will read it,” said Adron.
“We shall await Your Highness,” said Pel.
“I shall do more than wait,” said Khaavren, “I shall eat this famous duck, and at the same time, I declare that I shall tear off pieces of this heavy, dark bread and allow these pieces to absorb the sauce, and then eat them along with it.”
“And,” added Uttrik, “if you will drink from some of these five bottles of Furnia wine which we have ordered to accompany our repast, I think the time will go all the more quickly.”
“You are wisdom incarnate,” said Khaavren. “I tell you so.”
As Adron read the letter, his frown deepened, and he said, “What nonsense is this?”
He held out the note to Aerich, who took it and said, “Does Your Highness desire me to read this?”
“Yes, yes,” said Adron, impatiently. “Read it aloud, and tell me what you think.”
“Very well, Your Highness,” said Aerich, and he first studied the almost impossibly elegant handwriting, then read: “Your Highness ought to return home directly if he wishes to have his daughter presented to him.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, “that is clear enough, I think.”
“Not at all,” said Adron. “For I have no daughter.”
“Perhaps none you know about,” said Tazendra carelessly, then realized what she had said and blushed deeply, while Aerich gave her a look full of reproach.
Adron, however, did not appear to notice the blunder, so engrossed was he in contemplation. “It is impossible,” he said, “for I have not—ah.”
At this word, the others, who did not dare to say anything, looked at each other significantly. “Well,” he amended, “it is not altogether impossible, yet, for such a thing to be—” His voice trailed off, and Khaavren would have sworn that he was trembling as if from some great emotion.
We should say here that certain discoveries in the High Art which provide safeguards that are common today were less common then, although they were available, thus the existence of bastards and even half-breeds was not unknown. However, the stigma which such unfortunates must suffer today was in existence even then, though perhaps with less vigor. Still, it should be said that any gentleman who was informed, especially publicly, of the existence of a child whose birth he didn’t expect was almost certain to feel embarrassment to a greater or lesser degree; yet, to judge by Adron’s countenance, the emotion he was feeling had less of embarrassment or shame about it and more of excitement or wonder, which reaction did not escape Khaavren’s notice.
“Well, then,” said Pel. “What are Your Highness’s wishes?”
“My wishes?” said Adron, frowning. “It seems that, in all cases, I must return to the fort.”
“I assure Your Highness,” said Aerich, “that we are entirely at your service, should you wish us to accompany you.”
“Oh, as to that,” said Adron. “I think you had best return to the city with all speed, and, when you appear before His Majesty, as I have no doubt you will, you must inform him that I have been delayed by unusual circumstances and will return as soon as it is possible to do so, and will then present myself before him.”
“We will fulfill your commission with the greatest pleasure,” said Aerich.
“And at once, too,” said Tazendra, “for, in faith, I am taken with the desire to see the city again.”
“And I, also,” said Kathana. “For if I am to stand to trial before His Majesty, well, I should like it to be finished sooner rather than later.”
“In that case,” said Adron, “we will part at once. Yet I think we will see each other again, and I assure you that I hold you all in the highest esteem.”
“Your Highness does us too much honor,” said Aerich.
“Not at all,” said Adron.
“Then let us be off,” said Pel and Uttrik together.
They settled up with the host, which honor Adron insisted upon for himself, even over the protestations of the host, who wished to have for himself the honor of providing the Heir’s repast, and afterward they caused their horses to be saddled and brought to the yard. Then, with only a few more words, they took their separate ways: Adron back to Redface, the others toward the city.
This time they made better speed; for they all felt that they had been gone a long time and needed to report the results of their mission, as well as to find out what had been happening while they were away, and Khaavren, moreover, was anxious to see the fair Illista once more, and to explain how it had happened that he had fulfilled his promise without breaking his oath; therefore, though they were careful not to exhaust their horses in the blistering summer heat, they made stages of twenty or twenty-five leagues across the pushta, sometimes not stopping until full dark had fallen.
The return, notwithstanding that it took place during what was still the height of summer, and that, therefore, it was unpleasantly hot, was passed in a happier mode than the journey out had been.
Tazendra, though still annoyed that the chance for a glorious death had passed her by, was in some measure reconciled to it, and ran over and over in her mind the battles in which she had fought and been triumphant.
Uttrik’s mood was that of one who has happily put aside a vengeance, so he rode with a light heart, and, moreover, he, too, took pleasure in recalling the victories which, in retrospect, had seemed to come so easily and naturally.
Kathana had, if truth be known, been growing increasingly dissatisfied with hiding, and was now happy and content to be “face toward the fire,” as the saying is, and was composing speeches which she might have the honor to deliver before His Majesty.
Pel was ruminating all the events that had taken place, and considering how they might be turned into lasting advantages, these being more important to him than glory, which is so fleeting in any event.
Aerich, normally the most moody of companions, was, since he had killed Shaltre, always amiable and pleasant; smiling calmly to all and even sometimes engaging in small conversations with Khaavren on the people and sights they rode by.
Khaavren was constructing daydreams of Illista, and, moreover, of the honors and promotions he might achieve as a result the events of the last few days, and was even trying on the name, “Lieutenant Khaavren,” to see how it sounded in his ears.
Mica, we may be sure, was awash in pleasure at the dzur which they had had embroidered upon the breast of his tunic by a tailor they had happened to meet at a hostel at the foot of Bli’aard.
In this way, then, the return journey took its course, and before many days had passed they found themselves once more in sight of Beed’n’s Inn, which caused Mica, first, to tremble, as he remembered the beating he had received, and then smile, as he recalled what the results of the affair were. Khaavren, who, as we should comprehend by now, noticed everything, observed this reaction and said, “Well, we have made good time, and are nearly home; let us, then, celebrate in advance by stopping here for jug of Khaav’n, or a bottle of Ailor.”
To this they all agreed, and, finding the place nearly empty, they claimed the largest table, placed, as Khaavren preferred, by a window, so he could amuse himself by watching the passersby. They did, in fact, consume a certain quantity of Khaav’n, which Khaavren preferred to most other wines, because it came from his own region, and shared a name with him, and was, besides, neither too sweet nor too dry; and although in fact it was rather fuller in body than Pel preferred, he made no complaint and drank in such a way as to keep up with his companions.
They had been at it for some time, when Khaavren said, “Well, it is clear we are nearly home, for I have observed more than one Imperial messenger travel along the road of which I have such a fine view through this window, as well as such a multitude of bourgeois and clerks that the issue cannot be in doubt.”
“Well then,” said Aerich, “if you are enjoying the view, it is just as well the landlord has not repaired the window which good Mica broke with his head. Otherwise, I think I would have preferred that it had been repaired, since the paper would do well to keep the heat out.”
“Bah,” said Uttrik. “After passing through the pushta, where we had to find water for our horses every three leagues, I declare that this heat doesn’t bother me all, but rather, it feels as cool as the mountains by comparison.”
“And yet,” said Khaavren, “it must still be hot, for here is a troop of Guardsmen, wearing our uniforms but Lanmarea’s badges, which must have determined to take a rest here, for, though it is not a mealtime, they are nevertheless stopping.”
“Well,” said Tazendra, “that is good; we shall get news of the city from them.”
“Perhaps not,” said Khaavren, “for, now that I look, they are merely tethering their horses, as if they don’t expect to remain long.”
“Indeed, you are right,” observed Pel, leaning over and looking out the window. “It is as if they have only stopped t
o ask questions, for, see, the officer alone is coming in.”
“But why,” asked Kathana, “are the rest of them moving around to the sides of the hostelry, as if to surround it?”
“I confess,” said Pel, “that I’ve no idea, unless they are searching for someone and suspect he may be here, and don’t wish to let him escape.”
“Well,” said Tazendra, “I’ve seen no one who looks suspicious.”
“There could be someone hiding upstairs,” said Khaavren, “and for my part, I declare that I will put aside all rivalry that might exist between their service and our own, and give them all the help I can.”
“They don’t seem likely to need help,” said Aerich.
“Oh, you are doubtless correct,” said Khaavren, “but it is only right to offer, and, if they need no help, why, I’ve no doubt we will be told of it. Hullo, Sergeant,” he called to the lady who entered at that moment. “We are both servants of His Majesty, and you seem to be intent upon some business, therefore we will offer you our services, and, if these services are not needed, then, by the Shards, you may come and have a glass with us, and we will drink to the health of His Majesty and Captains G’aereth and Lanmarea, and the Warlord herself.”
“Well,” said the Sergeant, bowing to those at the table, “you may, indeed, be able to do me a service, and, if not, I will accept your kind offer.”
“That is all we ask, Sergeant,” said Khaavren. “How may we help you?”
“I am called Lebouru,” she said, “Sergeant, as you have perceived, of the Imperial Guard, and if you would do me honor of telling me your names, I will happily tell you how you could be of help to me.”
“Very well,” said the Tiassa. “I am called Khaavren, and these are my friends, Aerich, Tazendra, and Pel, as well as our companion Uttrik, and the Lady Fricorith.” He gave Kathana her assumed name because, as she intended to surrender herself, he had no wish to compromise her ahead of time.
“Your name, you say, is Khaavren?” said Lebouru.