Covenants (v2.1)

by Lorna Freeman

  “No, no need. If it’s not out here, I’m sure it’s not in there either.” Javes’ smile changed, becoming narrower, yet showing more teeth. “And I’m also sure that the good furnisher won’t offend either Ambassador Laurel or Lord Rabbit ibn Chause by selling us smuggled spritewood, what?”

  “No, gracious sirs—”

  “Splendid.” Javes beamed again.

  Javes sat down with Guarez and was soon immersed in genteel dickering for the complete furnishing of the embassy. I went back to the middle of the room to Jeff. I wanted to think on why I had been displayed, and what plans I had thwarted when I couldn’t accompany Captain Suiden to the bank yesterday. Also creeping around the edges was the remark about me looking like my grandda, and I found myself checking that my uniform was straight. I was so involved that it took me a while to realize that Jeff was quiet and not trying to make my present interesting with sounds, snickers and low-voiced comments, no matter that the captain had ordered us not to talk. I gave him a look and met a cold stare. I sighed, then shrugged. I hadn’t known that Javes was going to thrust my parents’ nobility down the merchant’s throat.

  Javes stood up. “Excellent, Guarez. We will await you at the embassy this evening.” He waited until the furnisher bowed. “And thank you for the recommendations.” He turned and signaled us. “All right, men. To our next destination.” He checked a list that was on store stationery. “Which should be right around the corner.” Guarez escorted us to the door and gave another bow to Javes and then one to me. “Captain, my lord.” He shut the door so close behind us that I felt my trouser cuffs shift in the breeze.

  The performance was repeated at the carpet, window coverings (something called blinds, made of thin, polished wood slats, bleached almost white), porcelain, silversmith, linen, and other shops. Captain Javes asked if they had any Border contraband, introduced me as a lord, had me check around, and then bargained hard for the supplying of me embassy in whatever the shop sold. He flashed around the letter of credit, careful not to let the shopkeepers drool on it, then had them agree to come to the embassy that evening to “see the scope of the job, what?” He never mentioned, though, that the ambassador was a mountain cat who walked on his back legs. I figured that there was going to be a whole lot of screaming in the old place that night.

  We walked out of the last shop, the sun high overhead hitting us hard, and I was glad of the wide-brim hat. I glanced at Jeff, but he stared straight ahead, still in a snit over “Lieutenant Lord Rabbit.” We mounted our horses and he fell in behind Javes and me when we started moving.

  “I think first we should water our horses and then find something for us. I’m feeling a little peckish,” Javes said.

  I looked sideways at the captain. He caught it and raised an eyebrow. “Spit it out or let it go. But do not sulk, Lieutenant.”

  My ma would accuse me of the sullens, usually when she pushed into where I didn’t want her to be. I didn’t care to hear the same from the captain. “What can I say, sir?”

  “You can ask what the blazes is going on instead of playing the sacrificial victim.”

  “It would have been nice to be informed before what is going on went on, sir.”

  “So you would’ve been, if you hadn’t been taken sick yesterday morning.”

  “Before I was to go to the bank, sir?”

  Javes looked at me sideways. “Suiden was right. You’re not as naive as you sometimes act, Lieutenant.” That did not answer my question and I stayed silent. We turned down a street and saw a square where a fountain bubbled into a trough. We rode up and the citizenry moved back, giving us clear access to the water. I frowned—in Freston the army had to wait its turn just like everyone else. “Does the army here always get to go to the front of the line?” I asked Javes.

  “Oh, no, Lieutenant Lord Rabbit,” Javes said, dismounting. He tried to lead his horse to the water, but the animal needed no help. He shouldered the captain out of the way and bent down into the trough, drinking noisily. Jeff and I had to quickly dismount too or we would have been dumped into the water as our horses hastened to follow the captain’s. Javes looked around. “No,” he repeated, “they don’t do this because of us.” He gave a slight smile. “It’s because of you.” I blinked and stared around, meeting the eyes of one man who was holding his horse back while ours drank their fill. He flinched, then gave a low bow.

  “Between our clergy traveling companions, Gherat’s clerks, any letters that came from Gresh, Dornel, and Freston, plus our just finished shopping trip, I am sure that the city knows that a grandson of Lord Flavan and a nephew of the current Lord Chause is a lieutenant in the Royal Army. And you heard Guarez this morning, you’re the spitting image of the old lord.” He lifted his quiz glass and peered at my trousers. “Even down to the creases. Tell me, old boy, how do you get them so sharp?”

  “You know, sir, Slevoic asked me that very question.”

  The silly ass went away and the wolf stared back at me. “Careful, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Our horses, having done their best to suck the trough dry, were finished and we mounted. Javes once more led us down a street, and now that I wasn’t concentrating on finding tailor shops or wondering what the captain was up to, I noticed that I was garnering my fair share of attention, some even pointing me out to companions. It was as if a target had taken up space on my back, and I had to fight not to hunch my shoulders.

  “Was this expedition so that everyone would know that the rumors were true, sir?”

  “Partly,” Javes said. “We did need to furnish the embassy.”

  “Would it have hurt to just let them be rumors?” Blast, I was sulking. I pressed my lips together, hoping that they hadn’t been in a pout.

  “Rumors can be denied and dismissed, Rabbit.” The gray wolf’s yellow eyes were almost colorless in the bright sunlight. “If you had disappeared prior to anyone really seeing you, your existence could’ve been denied and dismissed too.”

  Now I felt I also had targets on my chest and forehead. “Sh—uh, shoot, sir. The abduction attempt?”

  “Perhaps.” Javes guided us around anodier square, this one lined—judging by the aromas—with eateries. “A clerk or even the odd officer can be suborned. It is very difficult, though, to do an entire city.” Wolf eyes met mine. “I’m not saying it can’t be done, but it takes a very high level of, say, application.”

  I chewed on that as we continued around the square, until Javes stopped in front of a restaurant that had tables sheltering from the sun under a blue and white striped awning. I waited until we all dismounted.

  “But it has happened, sir.” I saw Javes’ questioning look.

  “Iversterre has dismissed an entire people.” A couple of riders on horseback slowed down, saw me looking back at them and sped up again, their horses’ hooves clattering against the stone street. “Here, Border folk don’t exist except as fantastic stories. Never mind that the kingdom lost a vicious and bloody war to them. And especially never mind that the People once lived here until they were driven out. With ‘a very high level of application.’ ” I watched a server from the restaurant approach.

  Captain Javes turned and frowned at the server, causing her to freeze. His face then smoothed and he smiled, gesturing for her to continue forward. “Um, may I help you, gracious sirs?” Her gaze fell on me and her eyes widened as she bowed. “My lord?”

  “An outside table,” Javes said, “if you please.” He indicited one in a corner, a fair distance away from the other patrons. “That one looks nice.”

  It was amazing how we all sat at a round table and still managed to have our backs to the wall. My display continued with passersby doing double takes, while the server told us the specialty dishes, took our orders, and disappeared back into the restaurant. A carriage slowed down so its occupants could get a good look at me as the server returned with a basket of bread, a dish of oil Javes said came from olives, and tall glasses of lemonade and tea. Javes
spoke to her and she went inside again and came back with two pitchers that had water beading on the outside. I reached up and touched one—it was cold.

  “They bring ice from the mountains down the Banson in special boats,” Javes said as the server placed the pitchers on the table, “and store it in an icehouse here. I remembered them as having the coldest drinks in the square.” He took a sip of lemonade. “I was right.”

  The server bowed. “Thank you, gracious sir.” She whisked the tray away and went back into the restaurant.

  The captain waited until she had moved out of earshot, then pinned Jeffen with a glare. “They say that the only way for more than one person to keep a secret is for the others to be dead. If what I’m about to say leaks out, trooper, you’ll wish you were, understood?” Jeff nodded, his mouth open. I figured there weren’t going to be any more “oh, I say” jokes in the barracks.

  “And I am sure, Rabbit, that you’ll not talk about this either, as you keep secrets so well.” There’s nothing like a jab with one’s tea.

  I nodded too. “Yes, sir.”

  Javes picked up his glass of lemonade, drained half in one long swallow, then looked at me. “All right. Let’s say that perhaps Iversterre has been a little forgetful. That events have slipped from its memory, like certain wars. With this memory lapse—maybe even because of it—is an increase in incidents that if allowed to continue would cause the kingdom’s future to become very interesting.How would you remedy that, Lieutenant?” The gray wolf looked at me, his eyes intent.

  “I’d do my best to remind it, sir.”

  Javes nodded and sipped his lemonade, looking back over the street. “And so we shall, starting tonight when the royal merchants stop by to greet the new ambassador.”

  “Oh.” I sat still for a moment, then smiled and raised my own glass to the couple walking down the street who had paused to stare.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  We returned to the embassy once we finished our meal. After two pitchers of tea at the restaurant, I was in agony and vaulted off my horse as soon as we arrived, dashing into the house. I tried one water closet on the first floor, found it occupied, and then sprinted up the stairs to the one near my room, trying to ignore the fountain splashes. A blessed short time later, I came out and ran into Laurel.

  “So, Lord Rabbit, did you find your tailor?”

  I had forgotten about my quest for new clothes. “No, Laurel Faena. Not this time.”

  “I see. And how do you feel?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really? I don’t remember your eyes having such dark circles.” He looked down. “Nor your hands trembling like that.” He flicked an ear back. “Did you chew the leaves?”

  “No, honored Faena.”

  The other ear went back. “Denying what happened is not going to make it go away. Though it does seem to be a kingdom pastime, no?” It was the second time that Laurel had alluded to a conversation I had with my superior officers when he wasn’t present, and my eyes narrowed.

  “No, Lord Rabbit, do not suspect me. Never suspect me.” His ears came up and he glanced down the stairwell, then looked back at me and lowered his voice. “You’re not alone in this, Rabbit.” He smiled and his whiskers swept back. “Mages aren’t the only ones who use the mentha. But we will talk later.”

  I stopped Laurel as he made to go around me. “Wait a damned minute. You will not lob boulders like that, then walk away. What do you mean—”

  “Well, well. It’s the Border freak and his mutant cat.” I had heard footsteps coming up the stairs, but blocked them out as I was intent on my conversation with Laurel, and now I was paying the price. I turned and saw Lieutenant Slevoic with Ryson behind him.

  “Is Milord Puke feeling less delicate?” Slevoic puffed on a cheroot and blew smoke in my face.

  “Get stuffed,” I said, a headache building between my eyes. My fingers began to tingle.

  “And how’s that going to happen? You?”

  “I told you before, leave me out of your dreams.”

  Slevoic took a couple of quick steps until he was standing nose to nose with me. My head was pounding and I heard wind blowing, a rushing, angry sound. Which was strange as the hallway was still.

  Slevoic looked around. “What do you know. No one here.” He blew more smoke. “Just you and me, puke.” Plus Ryson and Laurel, but they apparently didn’t matter in Slevoic’s universe. I backed away from him to give myself room, feeling as though I wasn’t touching the floor. Slevoic smiled, licking his lips as he gripped his cheroot, ready to thrust it where it’d burn. I raised my hand and felt it fill with—something—as my own lips pulled away from my teeth.

  “No, Rabbit, stop!” Laurel grabbed me, pulling my arm down, and I felt his paw close over my hand, holding it shut.

  “What is going on here?”

  Ryson snapped to attention and Slevoic followed more slowly. I couldn’t move, as Laurel held me immobile. Groskin and Suiden reached the top of the stairs. I looked around, as far as Laurel allowed me, and I could see faces appear in doorways, down in the courtyard and in the stairwell. Jeff was on the steps, his eyes just clearing the second floor. Captain Javes moved up through the crowd in the stairwell until he stood next to Groskin. His yellow eyes gleamed at me.

  I tried to pull my hand from Laurel’s grip, but he resisted, his claws pressing lightly into my skin.

  “Well?” Groskin glared at us, his frown deepening as he realized the only one who had to obey him was Ryson.

  “You will answer Lieutenant Groskin’s question,” Suiden said, looking at each of us. When his eyes lit on Laurel holding my fist closed, his brows raised.

  How to explain to a captain that two of his lieutenants were about to try to kill—or at least seriously maim—each other as he watched and did nothing? Ryson’s mouth hung open as he searched for words that would keep his own hide whole, but nothing came out. Suiden’s eyes returned to my face. “Lieutenant Rabbit?”

  “Lieutenant Slevoic is a twit, sir, and I was going to help him get over it.”

  “There are no rocks to guard here, Lieutenant.”

  “No, sir.”

  “I see.” The captain’s eyes moved to the burning cheroot in Slevoic’s hand. “Lieutenant Slevoic?”

  “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

  “Don’t you always?” Javes murmured.

  “I find Rabbit to be a disturbing influence, sir,” Slevoic said.

  “That’s true,” I said. “He’s always trying to tell me his dreams, sir.”

  “You puking freak—”

  “Remain quiet, Lieutenant Rabbit, or I will have Groskin remove you.” I shut up as Groskin gave the captain a very unhappy look. Sweat trickled down my back from being in close contact with Laurel.

  “Please continue, Lieutenant Slevoic.”

  “Yes, sir.” Slevoic turned his blue eyes on me. “I question Rabbit’s loyalties. He’s Border born and raised, no matter that his parents are from Iversterre, and he’s tight with the magical—”

  “Ambassador Laurel, Lieutenant,” Suiden said, “and you should put out your cheroot before you’re burned.” I gave a small sigh of disappointment as Slevoic handed the cheroot to Ryson, who ended up having to dump it in the convenience. When the noise from the flush subsided, Suiden waved his hand at Slevoic.

  “Continue.”

  “He’s close to the ma—uh, Ambassador Laurel, making pacts with it, exchanging feathers and who knows what else.” Slevoic’s brows rose. “Do you realize, sir, that we have just his and the ma—the ambassador’s word that me staff, shield and hauberk are what they say they are? People have been accused—imprisoned even—on their say-so only.” He gave a faint smile that Suiden couldn’t see. “And there they are, holding each other like they’re lovers.”

  “You find that amusing, Lieutenant?” Then again, the captain had been known to see around corners.

  Slevoic stopped smiling, but he continued to stare at me and I thought
about leaning back into the Faena, allowing him to take my weight.

  “You will remain as you are, Rabbit.” Suiden looked at Laurel. “Is there a reason why you’re holding the lieutenant, Sro Laurel?”

  “He has not recovered from his illness, honored captain, and he’s shaking hard. I’m afraid he will collapse.” Now that Laurel pointed it out, tremors were racking my body. My headache had increased and small lights now flashed before my eyes.

  “Sir,” Slevoic said, “we don’t even know that Rabbit’s illness is real. No one else has gotten sick.”

  “Is that the reason why you were ready to brawl with him, Lieutenant? With lit cheroot in hand?”

  “Sir—”

  “Or every time I look up you’re in his face, calling him puke, freak or both?”

  “No, I—”

  “Listen well, Slevoic, for I will only say this once. What you say may be true—”

  The roaring wind got louder, threatening to tear me apart. Laurel tightened his arms as I swayed.

  “—or not. It’s conjecture. There is no proof whatsoever that Rabbit has betrayed his oath of allegiance.”

  “But sir—”

  “None at all, Lieutenant. I do know, though, that you have done your level best to spread discontent. Because of you, the men grumble, whisper in corners, form factions, and are even encouraged to insubordination and subterfuge.” Suiden’s eyes rested on Ryson. “Whatever he may be, Rabbit has never undermined either troop morale or my command.”

  Slevoic’s face was blank. “Sir—”

  “The Lord Commander is well aware of who Rabbit is and his relationship with the Border.” Suiden looked back, at Slevoic. “It was he who approved his joining the Royal Army, he who stationed him at Freston, and the Lord Commander himself confirmed his appointment as the ambassador’s liaison. Are you calling the Lord Commander a fool, Lieutenant?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Very wise, Lieutenant. Very, very wise.” Suiden paused to make sure he had Slevoic’s full attention. “You are hereby confined to your quarters until you are brought before a review board on charges of attacking a fellow officer, with intent to cause great bodily harm—”