I was peeved that I couldn’t read him. Most mortals had sloppy minds and let fall their thoughts like flakes coming off a scalp, much as Haru and Vaal accused me of doing, but this man held his mind tighter than most.
I looked at his companions and knew at once they were present for his protection. Nothing of import passed through their thoughts.
Those things on their backs were most definitely some sort of weapon, and smelling of the powder that Haru transported. Powder that exploded. I could only think these humans held the metal rods while the wooden ends somehow blasted apart in the face of an attacker, but it seemed impractical to me. And dangerous for the wielder.
My gaze panned down the visitor’s body again, taking in the flared coat, the breeches, the stockings, the buckled shoes. His uniform was bright red, the lace at the sleeves, neck and chest gleaming white. Frothy. He overflowed with textile froth.
His men were less embellished. Perhaps the excess of lace indicated rank, for I saw nothing in the way of insignia on Erant Sirran’s person.
My eyes lifted back to his face. He still regarded me with a distrustful expression. “Are you finished?” he said.
“Have I started something?” I retorted. I grinned at him, all teeth. If I had started something, he wouldn’t have been alive to know it had ended.
One of his men took two steps toward me, his weapon slipping half off his shoulder. His leader ordered him back. “He’s a common lout,” Sirran said. “Ignore him.”
Yes, do that. You’ll live longer.
In good faith, whispered up to me from below.
I’m acting in good faith! I answered. Are any of them dead yet?
A note of mirth lit in my mind and made me smile. The soldiers were all the more upset with me, the nobleman all the colder, and Haru’s attention flittered away at once. He’d not intended to worsen the situation.
A few minutes later, the cabin door opened, and Haru climbed the hatch steps. I blinked at him in surprise, having expected him to remain below, decent and ready to receive a visitor. Instead, he stood at my side, an impassive prince of Brellin, his legs as steady as if he’d not been wobbling on them only minutes earlier.
He’d dressed in an outfit of deep blue comprising a jerkin with matching trousers, a pastel yellow shirt beneath, a yellow sash around his waist, a slender, curved sword with a highly ornamented scabbard tucked within the sash, and a matching knife tucked on the right. His boots were of reptile leather, dyed a slightly darker hue than his trousers. His hair had been rebraided with a blue ribbon twisted into the plaits, and he’d put on earrings with sapphires, a pair of eyes in silver settings shaped like coiling ether dragons.
Fucking Intana, dangling from his ears.
Hell. I wanted to hit him for owning baubles that did homage to my son, and fuck him until he was desperate again.
Be good, he said to me and stepped forward to greet the visitor. I followed in his wake, Vaal at my side.
Haru halted before the taller mortal and executed a slight bow, his right palm pressed over his heart. This wasn’t a Brellin politeness, but an accepted means of showing good intention, one traveller to another. On his splayed fingers were rings that I hadn’t noticed at once. A square cut sapphire, a pair of pearls, one white, one lustrous black, small diamonds littering the settings around the larger precious stones. I glanced at his left hand, which held the logbook, and spied more jewellery, a black opal, a larger diamond with seed pearls, another sapphire, this one an impressive trillion cut.
Such finery. He was a prince of Brellin indeed.
“Erant Sirran,” he greeted. “I am Haru of Sachoné House of the Brellin People.” He lifted his left hand slightly, indicating the logbook. “Shall we repair to the galley while you inspect this? I am badly in need of a good cup of tea. Will you join me?”
“I should be delighted,” Sirran replied stiffly. Looking at his too-bland expression, I guessed Haru’s simple splendour had startled him. Where froth and bloody hues had tried to smother, cooler tones and good taste had ushered into our presence a freshening breeze to lighten the atmosphere.
Haru turned and led the way to the galley.
“May I ask what is your station amongst your people, Haru of Sachoné House?” Erant Sirran inquired. A demeaning tone overlaid the politeness of his query, and I bristled silently, but Haru set him down with softly spoken words.
“Prince. Merchant. Holy man.” Haru paused to look up at him. “I am older than I seem, Erant Sirran. Don’t presume to misjudge me.”
He continued on, and Sirran stared after him without moving for a second, while I watched in surprise. Damn. Haru wasn’t being all that gentle this evening. He really was exhausted.
Vaal nudged me to move forward, and I stepped quickly to catch up with the group trailing Haru down the stairs. “They all stink of the explosive powder,” I said to Vaal in an ancient tongue.
“I know,” he replied. “I’ve informed Haru.”
One of Sirran’s men looked back at us suspiciously, and Vaal smiled so fiendishly, the soldier shuddered and almost fell, rushing down the steps to join his fellows.
I sniggered and shoved my shoulder into Vaal’s. He shoved back, still grinning. Even with completely human teeth, he looked as if he’d happily chew through the man’s neck. Damn, I loved that shark.
Down in the galley, Haru and Sirran seated themselves at opposite sides of the large table. Valerys bustled about in the cooking area, making tea and setting up a plate of sweetened biscuits. First Mate stood to the rear of his captain, and Sirran’s men stood to the rear of him. Vaal and I remained near the hatch to survey all the players at once.
Haru set the logbook on the table and gave it a small shove in Sirran’s direction. Sirran pulled it around and opened it.
“I cannot read this,” he said and shoved it off with an irritated motion. “It is accepted courtesy to write the logs in common speak and required when coming into our port.”
“It is not required in my part of the world,” Haru answered, “where our language is the prevalent one, but my first mate will read it for you, if you like.”
Remi stepped around the table to do so. Erant Sirran released the book to him, and Remi began reading, standing to Sirran’s side while Haru and Sirran regarded each other. For several minutes, only Remi’s voice and the noise of Valerys quietly thumping about sounded in the confined space, neither Haru nor Sirran admitting defeat in the war of stares, until…
“Is this costume of yours typical of your people?” Sirran said suddenly, his chin lifting in a small jerk to indicate Haru’s outfit.
“How do you mean? What my men wear is typical for my people. What my cousin wears is typical for the women of my people, when they are working.”
“And what you wear? These…earrings?”
Haru smiled a shark’s smile at him. “Both the men and the women of Brellin are fond of these small embellishments, Erant Sirran, much as you seem to be fond of…froth.”
I released an audible snigger, and Sirran glared at me. His gaze shot back to my supposed master. “Are you being deliberately rude?” he demanded of Haru.
“Are you, to use that tone asking about my jewellery?”
In the following silence, Valerys rushed forward with the pot of tea and the plate of biscuits. She’d added lumps of sugar crystals to the plate. A sailor helped her, bringing the cups, and Remi began translating the log again. Sirran waved impatiently at him without looking.
“Never mind that.” He smiled at Haru, a damned good imitation of a shark’s smile. Not bad. “I apologize. I should be more tolerant of the tastes of another culture.”
His gaze shot toward Vaal and me, then back to Haru.
Ah. He’d just implied Haru was effeminate and in need of men to service him. And all with a single look. Not bad again.
Haru poured the tea, his motions smooth and unhurried. “Tolerance is always better for commerce, Erant Sirran, but not required to please me. Your opin
ion of me is of no importance, as I don’t expect to remember you outside of a week. Would you like some sugar with your tea?”
I smiled. Damn, but Haru was sharp as Vaal’s teeth today.
“Yes, thank you,” Sirran replied stiffly.
“It’s Owilten tea,” Haru said. “Have you heard of it?”
“Yes. Very expensive.”
“I’ve ten extra crates in my hold. Large crates. I don’t suppose you know any merchants that might be interested?”
“I might.”
“And of course there’s the cargo of explosive powder on my deck that you’ve come to obtain,” Haru continued.
I blinked and thought-sent, How do you know that?
The stink on their clothes, Haru said. But it’s more a feeling I have. Let’s see if I’m correct.
Right. I looked at Sirran. He stared at Haru for a moment, then said, “But of course, you must know of the shortage. The disaster…”
Damn, Haru was good.
“Cut off your supply. Yes,” Haru finished for Sirran. “It was quite the thing. Did your city suffer the aftershocks of the cataclysm?”
“We did, but the upheaval was not so violent as in some places.”
“Definitely not so violent as suffered the lost peninsula,” Haru appended. “Your city is still here.”
He sipped at his tea, and I tried to stop scowling. Though he didn’t look at me, I knew he laughed in his head. He’d be poking me for my stupidity for ages, him and Vaal. I supposed I deserved it.
Yes. Now hush, Haru whispered to me. All your thinking is distracting. I can barely concentrate.
Really? He seemed perfectly in control to me.
Hardly. I’m ready to put my head on this table and sleep. He set the cup down and smiled at Sirran again, this time without so much of the shark in the gesture. “I’m in need of potable water of good quality. I should like to trade for other supplies as well. I’d rather not bother with currency unless you’re prepared to trade by weight in gold.”
“All explosive powder is seize-able, as granted by the Imperial Court,” Sirran said, and his shark’s smile was all the stronger.
I stiffened next to Vaal, who did the same. No one touched Haru’s cargo without us tearing apart anyone that dared.
“Very well,” Haru said simply. “Do you have the pertinent papers to show me?”
I could have dropped my jaw on the deck, gawping at him. Like that? He gave up just like that?
Vaal prodded at me to stop me gaping. I closed my mouth. What is he doing? I asked.
Don’t know. Just watch for now.
“Am I right in understanding that you inspected my ship from a distance, through a spyglass?” Haru asked.
“I did,” Sirran confirmed.
“And saw the markings on the powder kegs when the canvas covers flapped in the wind?”
“Yes.” Sirran glanced over at Vaal and me again, to give us a gloating, disgusted look. “And other things.”
He couldn’t have seen much, or he’d have remarked the signs of divinity on my skin and hair, and noticed my avatar getting blasted from the deck when Vaal took over the love making.
No doubt the heavy rain obscured his view, Vaal said.
No doubt. Fucking mortal. Dead. He was so dead. I just wouldn’t eat him.
Oh, please stop thinking! Haru pleaded. Let me manage this. There’s no need for murder and mayhem.
Well, fine. I crossed my arms and scowled, but neither he, nor the visitors, bothered looking at me.
Sirran slipped a hand into his jacket and withdrew a packet of papers from an inside pocket. He slid it over to Haru, who accepted it and untied the ribbon fastening it together. Haru inspected each sheet in order, then tied the packet up again and passed it back without comment.
“More biscuits?” he asked Sirran.
Sirran retrieved the packet, his features set in an inexpressive stare, but I had the impression Haru’s complete lack of concern disconcerted him. “Yes, thank you. They’re not bad,” he answered.
“It’s the spices. Our cook is very proficient with them.” Haru smiled toward Valerys. She cast him a nervous grin, her eyes flashing toward the visitor and away, and fetched more biscuits from the cupboards.
“You have these spices in your hold as well?” Sirran asked. His gaze momentarily strayed to Valerys and pinned on her bottom when she turned around, but he brought his attention back to Haru as Haru replied.
“But of course. These odd weapons you and your men sport? What are they exactly?”
Sirran stared at him, his expression sceptical. “You carry explosive powder. How can you not know?”
Haru offered a dismissive shrug. “I have travelled half way around the world, Erant Sirran. Five months ago, I purchased the powder from a gentleman that made beautiful flowers of fire in the sky. It was art, entertainment. But what I see on your backs seems something grimmer than art. Would you be willing to demonstrate how these weapons function?”
Sirran’s shark smile returned, but it was guarded. “Up on deck?” he inquired.
“After the tea?” Haru replied.
“Yes, of course.”
And with that, they began chatting about innocuous subjects: sailing, the weather, the ports that had been lost when the peninsula had cracked off the continent and crumbled into the ocean. I stared at Sirran and Haru, and boggled at human deceit. They disliked each other, and yet pretended otherwise. I wouldn’t have bothered pretending, not unless I had something to gain.
Exactly, Haru said to me. There is information to gain, and this man is hoping to discover more about me because I’ve outdone his hauteur.
And you want to know more about these weapons. But what is the point without the powder to make use of any?
Oh, we’ll take that back later, Haru said and smiled into his teacup, hiding his mirth from Sirran. What’s the point in causing a fuss when it’s so easy to retrieve stolen goods, hmm?
I wanted to laugh, but kept myself in check. Deceitful, beautiful Haru. He’d never once considered the situation lost, but it was a nuisance, watching him cater to this over-bred ass licker.
Ass licker?
You think he doesn’t lick his emperor’s ass every chance he can get?
Again Haru’s cup concealed a grin, but this time I didn’t bother to hide mine. Sirran was too busy staring at Haru anyway. Bastard was most definitely an ass licker. He just didn’t know it yet.
I doubt that he’s thinking of licking asses, Haru said. More like he’s thinking about how I let you pound mine into unrecognisable jelly in full view of the shore.
And wondering if he can manage to do the same, Vaal added wryly. Don’t make me eat him, Haru. He looks a bit sour. Can’t possibly taste good. He’ll turn my stomach.
I almost growled in outrage. Sirran? Wondering how to pound Haru’s ass? No damned way! I’d snap the ass licker’s sour neck first.
Why can’t we read him? I demanded.
Open your eyes, Vaal responded. He’s wearing a charm in that mess of froth, up there around his neck.
Oh. A charm. It seemed this war involved wizardry as well as explosive powder. What’s the use of explosive weapons if there are wizards handy?
Wizards suffer exhaustion like any man, Haru said. The powder remains the powder, unchanged until it is used up. I seriously doubt the imperial wizards are happy with its existence, as it frees the common man to spread his murder and mayhem in a manner not unlike the gods, who will think of ass licking and ass pounding and neck snapping at the least provocation.
Watch your mouth, Haru! I growled, but Haru, beautiful, impenitent, oh-so-disrespectful Haru, lowered his thick lashes over his cheeks to screen the mockery in his eyes, then raised his teacup and smiled again.
I shot a look at Vaal. Oh, yes. He was pissed, the false brown of his human irises almost shark black. I smiled at him. He smiled back. We were so going to fuck Haru’s ass to jelly again after this stupid Sirran left the ship.
/> Lightning farts, Haru reminded.
“Damn,” I breathed out softly.
“Double damn,” Vaal concurred.
“Fine. We’ll do him tomorrow,” I said and watched as the smile fled Haru’s face, and his skin lost a shade from sudden pallor.
Oh, yes. We were so going to fuck his impertinent ass to jelly again. Tomorrow.
Damn, Haru whispered, and this time had to hide a worried grimace behind his cup.
Chapter Thirteen
“I don’t suppose you’d bring out a barrel for me to inspect the contents now?” Erant Sirran said. “I’m somewhat disturbed that you left them exposed to the elements. There’s every chance the powder is ruined.”
We had come out on deck for the demonstration, but the sun had set and it was now too dark to see much of anything. Haru had agreed to wait until morning, when Sirran intended to have the powder kegs unloaded. Just now, he and Haru stood in front of the stack, the epitome of polite boredom in how they looked at anything but each other.
“There’s no reason for concern. The kegs are hermetically sealed, and the supplier assured me this brand of powder is less prone to the vagaries of moisture.”
Sirran’s gaze at last settled on Haru. “Brand? What do you mean by brand? What are the proportions?”
Haru executed the most languid return of attention, brown eyes almost hidden in lashes until he looked up at Sirran, and when he at last did, Sirran’s pale skin flushed slightly and his regard became just a little sharper. Hell, what a pervert. He’d seen a man getting done, and if not for his greed, would not have thought of anything else but how to go about doing the same. Of this, I was certain.
Haru named three alchemical ingredients and their amounts, and surprised Sirran further. “They aren’t just mixed in with each other. There’s no settling of ingredients. The powder is corned.”
“Corned? What is corned?”
“An invention of the supplier. He makes a paste of the three ingredients and forms it into cakes; after which he breaks the cakes up into grains and polishes them by tumbling them in a wooden barrel. The result is a powder that does not settle out into the three ingredients, and has a better resistance to moisture.”
Loved Him to Death: Omos of the Ether Page 13