“You never cease to amaze me, Horus.”
He could not tell whether she was pulling his leg, so he went on.
“Baron va Alsor has invited me to stand with Talia and take second position after him in the opening dance. I beg that you will join my party.”
“I think that you should confer with your wife before issuing such invitations, Horus,” said Diana.
Talia responded by turning on her heel and leaving them, followed by her retainers. Horus looked after her but then turned back to Diana with an expression that suggested he might drop all attempts at decorum. He opened his mouth to speak, but Diana forestalled him.
“Go to your wife, Horus,” she said gently. “Or she will make your life miserable.”
He looked at her for a long moment before saying, “She already does.” But then he did as she suggested and left to rejoin Talia.
“How dare you insult me in public like this,” Talia hissed when he returned to her side. Horus knew he would get no further enjoyment at the ball.
NEHEMUS AND KITARA jointly held the long silk-covered handle of the ceremonial knife and made the official first cut in the cake that had been created for the occasion. It was a massive tiered creation topped by “25” in runic numerals made of chocolate. As soon as they made the cut, Trianus led the eminent crowd in a round of hearty applause.
“My lord, Lady Death is reputed to be a great singer,” Kitara whispered to Nehemus as the crowd applauded. “I suggest you ask her to give us an air before we open the ball. It will demean her status to that of a lowly performer, but it will be awkward for her to refuse.”
“My dear, you are brilliant!” Nehemus whispered back. He squeezed her hand and mounted the dais, as the applause died down.
“My distinguished guests!” Nehemus spoke in a carrying voice. “I would like to thank my sons and daughters-in-law for putting on such a magnificent ball for me. I am a lucky, lucky man to have a family that loves me so dearly. And I thank you all for coming here from near and far at such short notice to celebrate with me.” He paused and there was another round of applause. “We are fortunate tonight to have with us one of the best known singers in the One Land. Lady Death, we have all heard of your singing prowess. May I request you to favor us with an air before we open the ball?”
“It is an insult, Cornelle Diana!” said Nitya in a low voice. “They’re trying to humiliate you!”
“I know,” replied Diana without turning her head. But she moved forward with long, smooth strides. She gathered her gown above her ankles as she gracefully mounted the dais to join Nehemus. She regarded him for a moment before turning to the audience, that looked on with bated breath. There was complete silence in the huge chamber.
“My lord baron,” said Diana. “I know that you barbarians consider a woman performing in public to be low class with loose morals. However, among my people, performers have high status. Hence, I accept your invitation as a Zon singer.”
With that she turned to the orchestra leader and he gave her a pitch pipe. She used it quickly saying, “I’ll sing a very simple melody in the middle C.”
“That is a quite a range you’ve give us on the pipe,” he said hesitantly.
“Don’t worry, I can sing a cappella if I have to.”
“We’re professionals,” replied the orchestra leader, stung. “Just sing—we’ll accompany you.”
Diana turned and looked out on to the multitude. Every eye was on her expectantly. Unthinking, Horus left Talia’s side and pushed his way to the foot of the dais. As their eyes met, Diana took a deep breath and began with the chorus:
Duty calls, I must obey
Duty calls, I cannot stay.
Each time that we must part,
It gets harder and harder—
It breaks my heart!
Each day is the first day
Of the rest of my life.
If I could only choose my way
I would steer away from strife.
I see the flowers, I see your smile,
But then, duty calls, duty calls.
On too many days and in so many ways
I’ve fought and rolled the dice.
A voice in my head says
You’ve won, but at what price?
I sheath my sword, I say, no more!
But then, duty calls, duty calls.
All that I see in front of me
Is a long and lonely road.
As I go on, I clearly see
There’s nothing ahead but woe.
Being with you would set me free
But then, duty calls, duty calls.
Her powerful voice was rich and sweet at the same time, like warm honey. It filled the cavernous hall. Her pale eyes ranged over the audience, actively engaging them. But it was the pathos in her tone, her expression of longing that touched each and every person who heard her. The song was in Brigish, so everyone felt a personal connection to her words and the feelings she expressed. Nehemus looked upon Kitara with wistful eyes. Greghar thought of Caitlin. By the time she repeated the chorus, hundreds were swaying and humming along.
Horus was sure that she was singing to him. She had acquiesced a deadly insult to do so, and the enormity of her gift overwhelmed him. It made him unhappier than before and he felt his eyes mist over. He rubbed them before tears could form.
When Diana was done there was thunderous applause, dwarfing the earlier polite rounds of clapping. She bowed to the audience and asked the orchestra leader to come up and join her as the ovation rolled on and on. Then as quickly as she had come, she descended from the dais. As she rejoined them, Nitya thought, She is learning how to love.
AFTER A SHORT hiatus, the orchestra struck up the first bars of the opening dance of the ball. Kitara curtsied to Nehemus and gave him her hand to open the ball. The first dance was a stately minuet, and the baron led her down the line of privileged couples to open the ball. She gave Nehemus her rapt attention, and his pleasure at partnering her was obvious on his face. After they paraded the length of the aisle of couples, the ball was open. The music took on a bit more tempo, and all the assembled couples broke ranks in order of protocol and began the dance.
As representatives of Queen Esme, Talia and Horus were the first couple to follow Nehemus and Kitara. They were a stark contrast. She was graceful, but Horus’s lack of coordination meant that they were often at odds with each other. He constantly threatened to crush her toes beneath his boots, and she was only saved from hurt by a combination of luck and quickness of foot.
Greghar and Nitya followed as the third couple in order of precedence. He raised Nitya’s arm to begin and she gave him a radiant smile. Having spent his boyhood at court and being light and athletic on his feet, Greghar was an excellent dancer. And at the behest of Queen Lovelyn, Nitya had been an adept student of the Utrean royal dance master. The two of them had never danced together, but they were so in tune with one another that they fell into step almost immediately.
As soon as the piece ended and urged on by Nitya, Greghar bowed to Diana and led her out on to the ballroom floor for the second dance. While Nitya had become a good dancer, Diana was superb. She was used to leading, but Greghar had height and strength enough to hold her firm and get her to follow him. Within a few moments, her natural sense of timing had her in step. Thereafter they got better with every turn and were soon moving with such perfect balance and grace that even some of the other dancers slowed their steps to watch them. At the end of the dance, Greghar bowed to her again, and Diana executed a creditable curtsey.
“Thank you, sir,” she said. “That was almost as much fun as a sword fight.”
Nitya, Diana, and Greghar drifted into the adjoining dining parlor where an extravagant variety of food and drink was laid out. The older guests sat at tables here, gossiping and eating. Greghar flagged down a steward and took two glasses, water for Diana and wine for himself. Diana dropped in a cleansing tablet from her clutch before sipping it.
“They say that Nehemus is the richest man in the One Land,” said Greghar. “This ball and this castle certainly give credence to that belief. Why, the furniture and decorations in Nordberg Castle look tawdry in comparison with what we see here!”
Diana did not respond, for she saw Nehemus himself approach them.
“You wished to speak with me, Lady Death.” Nehemus’s tone was courteous. “Shall we take a few minutes now? I hope your friends will excuse us?”
Greghar and Nitya nodded, and Diana inclined her head without reply. Nehemus took Diana’s arm and escorted her into a narrow corridor. It was very long, with torches on brackets every ten meters or so. It climbed several sets of stairs, and the sounds of the ball faded away behind them. Soon they could only hear the echoes of their footsteps on the flagstones.
He led the way to a cozy round tower room with arrow slit windows that looked out to sea. He stepped over a high threshold and Diana followed him, hiking up her long gown. As he slid the door shut behind her, she drew a slim laser pistol from a thigh holster before she dropped the skirts of her gown again. She held the weapon behind her back.
“A convenient place for us to talk without being overheard,” he said, taking a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs.
“If you say so,” said Diana without warmth. She sat in the facing chair, casually dropping the laser pistol in her lap.
“What a distrustful woman you are, Lady Death.”
“One of the secrets of a long life. I am sure you have not lived as long as you have by being credulous.”
“So what do you wish to discuss? Our tributes have been paid on time and in full. Your Trading Guild runs very profitable operations here in Tirut. My lord’s share of your commerce has considerably lightened the burden of the tribute payments.”
Diana paused and studied his face, trying to predict how he would react to her request. Asgara is worth a large ransom, she thought. But surely it is not enough for him to endanger his lucrative alliance with the Sisterhood.
“Your alliance with us has been a model for the rest of Briga and the One Land,” she said finally. “It is on that basis that I bring this request to you. As you know, we Zon value our children very highly. One of them has run away from home. We have reason to believe she is in Tirut.”
“A Zon child loose in Tirut?” he threw back his head and laughed. “How droll! A Zon child will be conspicuous.”
He leaned forward and put his arm by Diana’s, contrasting her lightly tanned white skin with his swarthy coloring.
“I am aware of that,” she said, not joining in his mirth. “I also know that Tirut is a trading port, full of foreigners from all parts of the One Land, with many paler-skinned folk from Utrea.”
“Zon or Utrean, children do not survive long in the streets, you know.”
“That is why I am asking for your help in recovering her.” She paused. “We will richly reward anyone who helps in getting her back.”
“I am sure that you wish to keep this information secret,” said Nehemus, shrewdly. “It appears I did well to meet you here in this secluded tower room.”
He reached over and pulled a long bell rope that hung by the arm of his chair. Diana heard it ringing at a great distance. She got up from her chair and stood loose limbed by one of the arrow slit windows, her pistol in one hand. A few moments later, there was a respectful knock on the door.
“Enter!” called Nehemus.
The door opened and Nehemus’s personal valet entered and bowed deeply.
“Go to the ball and fetch Collector Yandharan,” he said. “Tell him it is urgent.”
The valet bowed again and disappeared. Nehemus looked at Diana, thinking to make some small talk, but she was staring out of the narrow window.
“Why are so many of your ships preparing for sea?” she asked suddenly.
“I am summoning a regiment from my vassal, Baron Lutus Terendor of East Brosia,” said Nehemus. “Surely you are aware of the recent events here in the Southern Marches. The Chekaligas have taken the Serat Oasis. I must retake it.”
“Queen Esme is here with the Royal Blacks. I hear you are mustering your Kriggen Regiment. How many troops will you mobilize?”
“This year’s actions are unprecedented. We have never seen so many of the wild tribesmen acting in concert. Even tribes that have been peaceful for decades, like the Kasar Chekaligas have risen. I am thankful that Queen Esme is decisive like her father.”
Diana digested his opinion, but did not respond. A moment later, Nehemus’s valet was at the threshold again.
“Collector Yandharan is here, my lord,” he announced, then turned and left. Yandharan stepped into the tower room and gave Nehemus the full measure of respect. He glanced over at Diana and bowed to her as well, eliciting an acknowledging nod.
“I await your orders to return and retake Serat, my lord,” Yandharan said.
“Yes, yes, indeed that is your responsibility as my son’s liegeman. I am mustering regiments to enable you to do just that. But that is not why I have summoned you away from the side of the lovely Zaibene.”
Yandharan bowed his head and waited for Nehemus to go on.
“Lady Death has given us a problem, Collector. Apparently there is a runaway Zon girl at large in Tirut. We need to find her and return her to the Sisterhood.”
Noting the pistol that Diana held loosely in her hand, Yandharan put a hand on his ceremonial sword hilt.
“My lord, I will be happy to help in any way that I can. However, while I maintain a house in Tirut, it is not my native city. Technically I have no authority here.”
“I have collectors aplenty here in Tirut, Yandharan,” said Nehemus. “But they will all be constrained to work through official channels. The Zon don’t want it widely known that there is a Zon girl wandering around the streets of Tirut. You can work discreetly and report directly to me. Your bronze badge will carry weight with the common run of people in the street.” He paused and looked over at Diana. “And if you find her, the Zon will express their gratitude in gold.”
“What does she look like?” asked Yandharan.
Diana tapped her wrist bracer and projected a life-size hologram of Asgara. The hologram buzzed and crackled softly before setting, brightening, and coalescing into a sharp image. Yandharan took a step back in alarm and almost tripped over the high threshold. Nehemus shrank back into the cushions of his armchair, whispering, “Sorcery!”
The hologram was Asgara’s official school image, dressed in a pink uniform leotard, wearing the gold d’Orr band in her hair, identifying her as the heiress to the d’Orr tiara. However, barbarians knew little about the intricacies of Zon society, so this ornament meant nothing to Yandharan and Nehemus. Scrubbed, anointed, and made up, with her ash-blonde curls in a coiffure atop her head, she looked twice her actual age.
The initial shock wore off quickly, and both men stared at the hologram in fascination. Yandharan looked from the hologram to Diana and back again.
“I think I know where she is,” he said finally.
“Take me to her,” said Diana. “Let us leave right now.”
Yandharan looked uncomfortable and addressed Nehemus.
“My lord baron, as you know I am here with my wife Zaibene, your kinswoman. She has been really looking forward to this ball and will be sorely disappointed to leave it so early.”
“Is this Zon girl in any immediate danger?” asked Nehemus.
“No, my lord. She is safe in the home of one of my men-at-arms. A dependable man, who lodges with a respectable war widow.”
“There!” said Nehemus, turning to Diana and smiling genially. “Yandharan will conduct you there early tomorrow morning. Let the child get a good night’s sleep.”
“Very well,” said Diana, reluctantly.
THE HOUSE WAS at the end of a long, twisting alley in a poorer section of Tirut, where all the bins were overflowing with garbage. The smells of the refuse were almost as strong in the house. Asgara sat at the k
itchen table, looking at the gray gruel, but she felt so sick that she had little appetite. She knew about germs and infection and had been careful to avoid drinking water and tried to eat foods where the risks were lowest. But she still felt queasy and weak.
Lidill Ikren came in carrying a cup of weak tea.
“Eat your supper, dear,” she said. “You must keep your strength up.”
Asgara looked at her with an annoyed expression. Lidill was plump with smooth, dusky skin and a pleasant face. She had been considered fairly attractive until a former lover had badly broken her nose. It had not healed well and now canted to one side. Asgara could not look at her without wrinkling her nose in distaste, an expression that Lidill found infuriating.
“It is your food that is making me ill,” she said.
Lidill set down her cup and put her hands on her hips.
“Oh, forgive me, gracious lady. How may I serve you? Shall I order some shoots of orange grass from the Shoba Isles? Some Kaylan tea?”
“Just take me to the gates of the city,” said Asgara. “If you let me go, I can take care of myself.”
“Just eat your gruel, there’s a good girl,” said Lidill, cajoling.
“I told you to leave it on the fire till it boiled, but you didn’t listen to me. So I won’t eat it. It will make me ill.”
“If you keep up with your high and mighty ways you can just starve, young lady,” snapped Lidill, losing patience.
“Don’t be angry at Asgara, Mama,” Noki said as he wandered into the kitchen. “She’s always so nice to me, not like the other kids in the lane.”
Noki was Lidill’s older son, and at ten, he was some years older than Asgara. But it was clear from even cursory observation that he was not normal. He had an unnaturally large head and eyes that slanted upward. His mouth and nose were small and his nasal bridge was flat. He walked with a loose-limbed, shambling gait. When he spoke, his mouth worked, and his speech was furry. But he was uniformly cheerful, and now he smiled brightly at both of them.
Asgara looked at him kindly, as she would at a particularly good-natured dog. She ruffled his hair and he beamed at her.
The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2) Page 27