“For many reasons. Because when God called all the animals of earth together to hear Her commands, the sheep were the only ones who came.” He let out a deep breath. “We do not eat their meat, and only the holy ones wear their wool.”
Ahead, the flood of sheep turned off the highway and headed east around a small village. “That’s Harchow,” Alaric said. “Anyone hungry?”
Kalanath urged his horse forward. Sienne followed, eyeing the wool of his cloak. Did he mean only the holy ones in Omeira wore wool? Or was there something he hadn’t told them? He was too far ahead now for her to gracefully ask him. She filed the question away for later consideration.
Harchow only had one inn, but it was large and looked prosperous. Half-timbered with small red bricks filling in the spaces between the beams, its many windows caught the noon light and reflected it back at the travelers. Well-pruned rose bushes lined its walls, waiting for first summer to give way to true summer so they could bloom and fill the air with their sweet scent. A tidy fence separated the inn yard from the road, twined with flowering clematis.
Alaric led the way into the yard. A stout older woman came to greet him. “We’re just stopping for a meal,” he told her.
“Of course, Master Alaric,” the woman said, bowing. “We are at your service.”
Alaric blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Please allow us to care for your mounts. Vervinia will show you where you can wash up.” The woman held out her hand for Alaric’s reins. More stable hands approached, smiling and bowing. A handsome young man came to Sienne’s knee and extended his hand to help her dismount. Stunned, Sienne took it, though she didn’t need any help. She had the presence of mind to snatch the artifact off Spark’s neck and tuck it under an arm.
“Let me care for your belongings, Mistress Sienne,” the handsome young man said with a smile.
“Um, no, actually I think I’ll… hold onto this,” Sienne managed. She gave him Spark’s reins and backed away, nearly tripping over Kalanath. He looked as surprised as Alaric.
“They know our names,” she murmured.
“They knew we were coming,” Kalanath replied in the same low voice. “What mystery is this?”
The others drew near, huddling together for protection against the stable hands’ strange behavior. “This is bad. No one should know we were coming,” Alaric said.
“What do we do? Should we ride on?” Dianthe asked.
Alaric hesitated. “I don’t like leaving a mystery at our backs,” he finally said. “Let’s talk to the innkeeper.”
They followed Vervinia, who turned out to be a gangly adolescent who wore her dark hair in two long tails down her back, to a small door at the rear of the inn. It opened on a little room with a pump and basin, much cleaner than Sienne expected from a stable yard. With Vervinia looking on like a schoolmistress watching her pupils for signs of cheating, they washed their hands and faces and dried them on a very clean cloth. Then they followed their guide around to the front of the inn. The inn’s front room was spacious, with two staircases at opposite ends of the room and a large desk with key cubbies behind it. Doors to the left and right hung ajar, emitting the most delicious smells of soup and chicken and ham.
A woman who looked like the stable mistress’s younger sister stood just inside the front door, hands folded in front of her. She came to attention exactly like a soldier whose general has just appeared and said, “My dear, honored guests, it is such a… an honor to host you this noon! My name is Laetizia Tavano. Please, enter, make yourselves at home.”
“Thank you,” Alaric said. Behind him, Sienne and Dianthe exchanged glances. Nobody was ever this happy to see them, not even their landlord Master Tersus, who was close to being a friend. “We would like a meal, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Everything is laid out. Your companion is waiting in our private dining room.” Mistress Tavano bowed and waved to the door on the left.
Sienne looked at Dianthe again. Companion? Dianthe mouthed. Sienne shrugged.
“Thank you, Mistress Tavano, I see our companion has preceded us,” Alaric said, not betraying the confusion he must surely feel. “We appreciate your hospitality.”
Thoroughly bewildered now, Sienne followed Alaric through the door and into the inn’s private dining room. It was richly decorated with maple paneling stained dark to match the floorboards, which were covered by a blue and green woven carpet. A single long table that could seat twelve but was set for six filled the center of the room, illuminated by a lovely brass light fixture that hung from the ceiling above it. The table bore six or seven covered dishes of brightly polished silver, and each of the places was set with fine porcelain that, if not the height of fashion, could not embarrass Mistress Tavano’s pretensions to elegance.
A woman seated at the head of the table rose as they entered. She was tall, fortyish, and had the beginnings of middle-aged spread setting in around her cheeks and throat. She wore her dark hair piled high on her head in a businesslike twist, and her gown was simple in the way only the very wealthy achieved. Hazel eyes looked Alaric up and down, then swiftly assessed the rest of them. Sienne wished she had some way to hide the artifact where this woman couldn’t see it, even concealed as it was.
Alaric said nothing, just stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. The woman smiled. “I’m so glad to meet you,” she said, her voice a low, melodic alto. “Please have a seat. My name is Georgina Marchena.”
“Mistress Marchena,” Alaric said. “Or… Lady Marchena?”
Georgina Marchena inclined her head. “Lady. But I insist you call me Georgina. I feel as if I know you, and I cannot be so formal with anyone I know well.”
“I’m afraid I can’t extend you the same courtesy. I know you only in passing.”
The name sounded so familiar. Sienne couldn’t bring it to mind. She hoped Alaric could.
“I’m not offended. Really, do sit. The meal should be excellent. I paid the innkeeper enough to ensure that.” Georgina took her seat and gestured with an elegant hand at the table.
Alaric hesitated only a moment longer, then drew out a chair at Georgina’s left side and sat. Sienne and the others quickly followed suit. She hesitated, dithering over what to do with the canvas-wrapped artifact, but in the end set it in her lap, where it stuck out on both sides, not quite touching Alaric and Perrin, who flanked her.
Georgina withdrew the cover from what turned out to be a beautifully glazed ham, tangy and sweet-smelling. “Would you carve? I insisted we be left to ourselves for this meal. I hope I didn’t insult Mistress Tavano terribly by refusing her service.”
“I don’t mind. Why don’t the rest of you see what else Mistress Tavano has provided?” Alaric picked up a knife and carving fork and started cutting slices away from the ham. Sienne uncovered the dish closest to her; it was a tureen filled with fresh new peas, one of her favorite foods. She helped herself without waiting for further instruction.
Georgina had clearly led Mistress Tavano to believe there were five times as many of them as there were. In addition to the ham and peas, there was a roast duck, a bowl of mashed potatoes big enough to be called a vat, a tureen of gravy, a standing rib roast, and a huge dish of creamed spinach. Sienne accepted a slice of ham from Alaric and a cut of the roast from Dianthe, took a large helping of mashed potatoes and a tiny scoop of spinach, just to be polite, and settled in to eat. She hoped the stranger would give some hint as to who she was and why she knew them all so well. Marchena. She was sure she’d heard the name recently.
Georgina filled her plate and began eating. Sienne watched her covertly and noticed she took the smallest bites and chewed everything thoroughly. For a moment, Sienne feared poison, but the woman wouldn’t have eaten even a bite if she’d poisoned it. Georgina must have some other reason for eating so lightly, and Sienne was sure it wasn’t that she was already full.
“I trust you’ve had a good journey this morning?” Georgina said to the table at
large.
“Very good,” Alaric said. “Yourself?”
“I find ferry exhausting, actually.” Georgina looked at Sienne. “Are you familiar with the spell?”
Sienne swallowed a mouthful of half-chewed peas. “I don’t have it, if that’s what you mean, but I have experienced it a few times. Are you a wizard?” She hoped that question didn’t reveal too much of her ignorance.
“No, not I. Or I would have used jaunt, isn’t that correct?”
Sienne tried not to blush. Ferry was for taking others along in instantaneous travel; jaunt was for the wizard alone. “Not if you brought a companion. Are you saying you came alone?” she said, trying to turn the conversation back on Georgina.
“I don’t think this conversation requires more than just the six of us, yes?” Georgina turned her attention back to Alaric. “Let’s not dance about any longer, shall we? I’m sure you’re wondering—oh, so many things. How I know you. What brings me here to meet with you. What I want.”
“I don’t dance,” Alaric said. “And I’d prefer not to interrupt this delicious meal, if you don’t mind. Questions can wait.”
Georgina raised an eyebrow. “Very well.”
Sienne felt like kicking Alaric under the table, conveying the message How can you stand to eat without knowing what she’s up to? Doesn’t it drive you mad with curiosity? But she was sure that was too complex for a kick. She trusted Alaric to have a plan, but she really wished she knew what it was.
Alaric ate unhurriedly, helping himself to seconds of everything and driving Sienne nearly mad with impatience. She sipped her wine and noticed Perrin hadn’t served himself anything to drink. She wondered how long he could abstain before it was too much for him to bear. For his sake, she hoped it was a long time.
Finally, Alaric wiped his mouth with a fine linen napkin, dropped it into his lap, and said, “What relation are you to Lusio Marchena?”
Georgina smiled. “He’s my second cousin.”
That name struck a chord. Lusio Marchena, enemy of Tonia Figlari. The one who was so friendly with the king. Sienne opened her mouth to speak and a foot ground hers into the floor. She closed her mouth abruptly and glared at Alaric, who wasn’t paying her any obvious attention.
“I take it Lord Marchena is interested in the results of our expedition,” Alaric said.
“So direct. I find that refreshing. Yes, Lusio has an interest in scrapping, and in your expedition in particular. I won’t insult you by pretending it’s coincidence.”
“That’s fortunate,” Alaric said. “Then I won’t pretend we weren’t successful.”
“How nice that we can treat together as equals. Would you care for more wine?”
“Please,” Alaric said. “So, what specifically is Lord Marchena’s interest in our find?”
“It’s simple,” Georgina said. “He would like to buy it. I’m prepared to offer you five thousand lari for the stone falcon.”
Dianthe choked on her wine and turned it into a cough. Georgina ignored her. Sienne, seated across from her, could tell by her expression that five thousand lari was a lot even for a non-artifact emerald falcon, let alone for the stone Georgina believed they’d found.
“Interesting,” Alaric said. “What makes you think we’re interested in selling?”
“It’s not as if you intend to keep it as a wall decoration. You’re selling it to Tonia Figlari, yes? We’re asking you to sell it to us instead.”
“We’re contracted to give it to Lady Figlari.”
“You’re a practical man. The stone falcon means nothing to you except a payment. What difference does it make who gives you that payment, so long as it’s the most lucrative one?”
Dianthe’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, and then jerked as if someone had kicked her under the table. Alaric said, “That’s a valid perspective. But I’m afraid we’re not interested.”
Georgina leaned back, wine glass in hand. “Seven thousand.”
“Better. But… no.”
“Ten thousand. That’s the best offer you’ll get. And I’m certain the Figlari woman won’t be able to match it.”
Alaric set his glass down with precision and rotated it slightly, as if lining it up with some detail on his plate. “You say you feel you know us,” he said, “but that’s impossible. If you did, you’d know our reputation. We don’t renege on contracts, and we don’t deal behind our clients’ backs. You’re right, ten thousand lari is more than Lady Figlari can pay us. And if Lord Marchena had thought to approach us at the beginning, we might have agreed to work for him instead. But we have a contract, and we don’t intend to break it.”
Georgina didn’t look upset at this. “Are you certain? This is the only offer you’ll receive. Maybe you should discuss it—or are your companions satisfied that you speak for them?” She shot Dianthe a look that said she knew how Dianthe felt about the sum offered.
Dianthe swallowed. “Alaric speaks for all of us,” she said, “and we’d rather have our reputation than ten thousand lari.”
“I imagine it cost you much to say that,” Georgina said with a smile. “Very well. I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an arrangement.”
“Thank you for the meal,” Alaric said, pushing back his chair. “Give our regards to Lord Marchena.”
Georgina remained seated. “I’m sure he appreciates your integrity. Perhaps he’ll hire you someday.”
“Perhaps.”
Sienne followed Alaric out of the inn and around to the stable yard. “Say nothing until we’re well on the road,” Alaric said, for their ears alone. Perrin looked like he was bursting to speak, but managed to stay silent.
They received their horses from still-obsequious stable hands and trotted out of the yard. High, thin clouds had come up to cover the sun, and the remaining light was oddly gray and cast unusual shadows. They passed through Harchow without speaking. Sienne felt as if every passing pedestrian and ox-cart driver wanted to hear their conversation. It had been such a strange interaction. Lusio Marchena would apparently do whatever it took to prevent Tonia from regaining her dukedom. She almost wished she could meet the man. Anyone that bent on destroying someone else was… not interesting, precisely, but unusual.
Traffic on the highway thinned until they were once more the only travelers on it. The road dipped below the level of the surrounding fields until they were walking in what was almost a tunnel, the sides of the road level with Sienne’s eyes. Alaric reined in his horse and turned to face the rest of them. “Perrin has been dying to tell us something for the last fifteen minutes,” he said. “Namely, that there is no one named Georgina in the Marchena family.”
“I—yes, actually,” Perrin said in astonishment. “How did you know? I did not believe you knew anything of the Marchenas.”
“I don’t. But I guessed she wasn’t who she claimed to be when she offered to buy the artifact for ten thousand lari.” Alaric shook his head. “Nobody pays that much for abstract revenge. She didn’t want to deny Tonia her birthright, she wanted the artifact for itself. My instincts told me she was using the Marchena name as cover.”
“I do not know the Marchenas to speak to,” Perrin said, “but I know of them, and they are a small family. No doubt it is as you say—whoever she actually is, she counted on Tonia to have told us of the Marchenas’ enmity, and wished to conceal her interest behind the feud.”
“Then who is she?” Sienne asked. “And how did she know about the artifact, or who we are, or that Tonia hired us?”
“At a guess, our old friend Aneirin,” Alaric said. “He would have reported his conversation with Sienne to his employer, even if he couldn’t prove we had the artifact. And it’s not as if we’re unknown as a scrapper team. Though I don’t know how he discovered that Tonia Figlari hired us. But that’s irrelevant. What matters is that there’s a third party out there with an interest in this artifact, assuming the real Marchenas also don’t want Tonia to have it, and one with considerable resources.”
“Ten thousand lari is beyond considerable,” Dianthe said.
“We couldn’t sell it, Dianthe.”
“I know that, but my heart is going over all the things it could buy with its share of ten thousand lari and having trouble discarding those fantasies. Assuming the offer was legitimate.”
“It is not just money,” Kalanath said. “She said she was brought here by magic, yes? So she can afford to hire a wizard, and probably to keep him… it is when you pay and someone works for you when you ask.”
“On retainer,” Perrin said. “Do we think she is the interested party, or does she work for another?”
Alaric scratched his chin. “I think she was the negotiator,” he said. “People who command those kind of resources don’t generally take part in initial negotiations.”
“What do you mean, initial?” Sienne said.
“If this person was willing to pay that much, and could transport his negotiator magically to the middle of nowhere to meet with us, he’s not going to give up just because we said no,” Alaric said. “That’s bad news.”
Sienne was about to ask why when the answer struck her. “You mean he’ll try violence.”
“Right.”
They all fell silent. Perrin said, “I cannot provide protection. I regret this more than I can say.”
“It’s all right,” Alaric said. “Sienne, how does ferry work?”
“It’s like jaunt, except you can take one other person with you. I don’t know any more about the specifics than I do jaunt, how far a range it has, how precise it is. What you’re really asking is how quickly that person’s wizard can amass a fighting force to come after us.”
“Right.”
“Well, it would have to be slow, unless…” Sienne chewed her lower lip. “There’s a form of jaunt called transport that lets you take a lot of people all at once. But I don’t know how many ‘a lot’ is. And there’s no guarantee that wizard knows it. If I had to guess—”
“I’ll take guessing.”
“—I’d say we don’t have to worry about being attacked for at least a day, probably more. That assumes the enemy is in Fioretti and doesn’t have transport. If we’re careful, if we travel off the road, we could avoid them indefinitely.”
Stone of Inheritance Page 19