“Good afternoon, Vanjhant.”
“Good afternoon, sir, mistress.”
After they passed, I caught a few words, carried on the wind.
“. . . does something with the Civic Patrol . . .”
“. . . looks like he’d be the type . . .”
Did I really look that way?
“Yes,” replied Seliora, although I’d not said a word. “Even your father said something about it, Khethila told me. You never looked like a portraiturist, and now you look much more like a very fit and physical naval officer.”
“Not an Army type?”
She shook her head.
Once we got to the studio, I helped Seliora out of her cloak, then held her tightly. The kisses that followed were not short, but not overly long, and she eased away from me.
“There was something about a portrait . . .”
The smile in her eyes warmed me, and I posed her, then went to the easel.
I only worked on Seliora’s portrait for a little more than a glass, but by then I had her face completed, except for a few touches, and some of her jacket. It still took close to a quint before I’d cleaned up everything and closed up the studio.
“I’ll be glad not to have to wear this every Samedi afternoon,” she said as we walked toward the Bridge of Desires-the closest bridge for hailing a hack to go to the factorage.
“You can wear a different blouse next week. That part’s done.” I grinned at her, except it was close to a leer.
She blushed. “You can be impossible.”
“Not impossible. Merely difficult.”
We were both chilled by the time we crossed the bridge and managed to hail a coach. The ride south to Alusine Wool was not much warmer, because the wind was strong enough to whistle around and through the rattling windows. There was a single coach outside Alusine Wool when we emerged from the hack, but when I’d paid the driver and turned, the coach had pulled away. I hoped whoever was inside had expended more than a few golds purchasing wool.
Seliora stood and studied the front of the building for a moment, and at the letters of the sign. I let her. She’d never been to the family factorage before. Then we walked up the low stairs and in through the doors.
Khethila immediately stood as she saw us enter. She didn’t run down from the desk on the rear dais, but she didn’t dawdle, either.
“Rhenn! Seliora.” She gave me a quick hug and Seliora a slightly longer one. “You’re so kind to come.”
“Have you heard anything else?” I doubted that, because it was more than two days to Kherseilles by ironway, even by urgent express.
She shook her head. “I won’t hear anything until Lundi at the earliest, I expect.”
“Do you know how badly Rousel was hurt?” asked Seliora.
“The message from Remaya said that he had broken ribs and crushed legs.”
“Was there anything about how it happened?”
“No. Just that it was an accident.”
“Can I do anything to help?” Seliora’s words were both warm and supportive.
“Not right now. I can’t think of anything.” Khethila glanced around the factorage. “We’re selling a bit more than we did last year at this time, and I’ve been writing up the bid for another Navy order. All I can do is make sure that Father doesn’t have to worry about the business here.”
We talked for almost another glass before Seliora and I took our leave and let Khethila and Eilthyr begin to close up the factorage.
As we stood outside at the edge of West River Road, waiting for a hack, I half turned to Seliora. “Do you have the evening planned, lady?”
“We could join Father and Mother at home and then go with them to Chaelya’s. . . .”
I couldn’t help smiling. “What did you tell them? That you’d ask me, and to expect us?”
Seliora blushed.
“I thought as much.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
We waited for less than a quint before a hack, even bound northward, stopped for us.
Once we were inside, I asked, “Do you think we could take a ride tomorrow, early in the afternoon?”
“How early?”
“Right after brunch?”
“Only if you come to brunch.”
“I can manage that.” That would even let me sleep late and still have a good meal.
“You’d like to head north?”
“How did you guess?”
She smiled knowingly.
I sensed a sadness, and I said, “The more this goes on, the more it seems that I don’t have much choice.”
“I know. Sometimes, we don’t.”
That was always going to be the hard part, I was coming to understand. “How do you know which choice is right?”
“When only one choice will save those you love,” replied Seliora.
I didn’t know that I could have put it that succinctly.
When we reached NordEste Design, Bhenyt was waiting outside. As we emerged from the coach, he ran over and called up to the driver. “Half silver if you wait a quint!”
“Done, young fellow!” agreed the bearded coachman. “Done!”
“Two coppers now,” added Bhenyt, “and the rest on the fare.”
I couldn’t help grinning at Bhenyt. He grinned back.
Seliora and I walked quickly up the outer steps, then through the doors and up the stairs. Betara and Shelim were sitting on one of the settees, but both rose as we entered the main second-level entry hall.
“I thought we might be seeing you about now.” Betara’s eyes went to me. “How are you doing, Rhenn?”
“I’m fine. My brother Rousel’s been seriously injured in an accident in Kherseilles. My parents are there.”
“Do you know how accidental the accident was?” Betara asked.
“No. Given the difficulties Rousel has faced recently, I have my doubts as to how accidental this was.”
Seliora and Betara exchanged glances.
Shelim nodded, then said, “Whatever we can do.”
“We’re going riding tomorrow,” Seliora said. “Rhenn will need to borrow the mare from time to time.”
“Is that all?” asked Betara.
“I hope so. You have already done much more than I ever could have asked for, and I appreciate not having to worry about people shooting at me every time I come to see Seliora.” I offered what I hoped was both a thankful and a knowing smile.
“There are those who should not be trusted with rifles,” Betara said lightly.
“That is true, but I’m still grateful.” I paused. “By the way, you and Grandmama Diestra might like to know that Lieutenant Mardoyt suffered an accident earlier this week. On Lundi night an oak limb fell on him. He’s expected to live, but he’ll likely be stipended off because he won’t walk well and can’t use one arm.”
“That will please Mama,” Betara said. “He is an evil man.” Her words were delivered evenly and factually. Then she smiled. “We should go. Staelia is expecting us.” She adjusted a red woolen cloak trimmed in black.
Shelim escorted her down the steps and out to the waiting hack. Seliora and I followed.
Once the hack was headed southeast on Nordroad, I addressed Betara. “The other thing I didn’t tell you was that one of the taudischefs was an imager. That was Youdh. He attacked me and another patroller on rounds on Meredi. We captured him. He was tried by the Collegium and executed on Vendrei.”
Betara nodded. “We heard that he had been taken by the Patrol, but no one knew much more than that.” She paused, then added, “Except that the Temple priests are very displeased.”
“Do you know what they’ll do?”
She shook her head. “Whatever it is, they’ll get someone else to do it, and it will seem like the sansespoirs or the poor workers in the taudis are to blame.”
To me, that translated into a riot when the conscription teams arrived, if not worse. “I’ll watch for that, although I don’t know if I can do much.”
>
When we reached Chaelya’s, I was the first out of the coach, and offered my hand and arm to Seliora, and then to Betara. I didn’t know what Shelim paid the hacker, except that his response was definitely grateful.
“Thank you, sir!”
No sooner had we stepped in through the brick-framed doorway than Staelia bustled up to us. “Shelim, Betara . . . and Seliora and Rhenn . . . I’m so glad all of you are here. It’s chill tonight, for this time of year, and we aren’t that crowded. This way. You have the corner table.”
Several diners looked up as we passed, and one, a younger man attired in a royal green jacket, swallowed. I looked at him and smiled. He paled. I wondered exactly what he’d done.
Staelia seated us at the rear table that was set off slightly from the others. Taelia immediately appeared with two carafes of wine-one a pale amber and the other a claret-red. “The white is Simota, the red Endaluz.”
I hadn’t had either, but opted for the white, as did Betara. Seliora and her father chose the Endaluz.
“Has the war had any effect on your business?” I asked Betara and Shelim once Taelia had half filled all four goblets.
Betara sipped her wine, then said, “No. Unless things get worse, I don’t think it will. Most of our clients aren’t likely to be affected. The only factors who come to us, except for a special side chair or armchair, are those like Glendyl or Diogayn who are possibly as wealthy as some of the lesser High Holders.”
“Have you done a commission for Glendyl?” I tried the Simota; it was somehow slightly buttery, without being cloying.
“Not quite two years ago. He wanted a dining set for his estate here in L’Excelsis.”
“How was he to work for?”
“Very demanding until he was satisfied with the design, and very easy after that.”
“He wanted things his way, but trusted your abilities,” I suggested.
“That’s how it should be,” Betara replied. “We won’t do anything for Diogayn again.”
Seliora winced.
“Oh?” I looked to her.
“He tried to insist that I should show great gratitude, if you know what I mean, for the commission, and became very upset when I declined. Then he insisted on changes after we’d already ordered fabric.”
“Then he demanded that we change the back design of the chair frame,” added Shelim.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We delivered what he requested, at a price set according to the agreement. He wasn’t happy.”
“Change escalation clause?” I asked.
“He didn’t read it closely,” Betara said. “We brought our advocate with the delivery. His advocate called him an idiot. Not quite in those terms.”
“He said that Diogayn should not have signed an agreement with unfamiliar phrasing,” added Shelim, “without consulting his advocate and that given the documentation we had produced he could pay us, or he could pay us and the advocate even more.”
“He thought that his wealth and power would suffice,” I suggested.
“Oh, he tried that, too. We had to deal with several incidents . . . until the body of one of his ‘agents’ was found inside his guarded compound inside his locked carriage house, garroted in the driver’s seat of his favorite coach.”
“He hasn’t even said unkind things about us,” Betara added. “Not anywhere in public, and the dining set we delivered was exquisite and without any flaws. We even used a new fabric design with the chair frames he rejected for High Holder Asathyn, and made a higher profit.”
I could see the incident as another example of what Seliora had said about NordEste Design’s ability to outcheat cheaters. I was also very glad that I did truly love Seliora.
One of the dinner specials was game hen stuffed with plums and hazelnuts, with a plum sauce, and I had that. Seliora chose a mushroom, fowl, and rice casserole in a cream sauce. I had a taste of hers, and she of mine. We agreed, in a fashion. She thought hers was better for her, and mine for me. So did I.
A hack was waiting outside Chaelia’s when we left, doubtless arranged by Staelia, which was very good because the wind had picked up even more, although the sky was cloudless. Both Artiema and Erion showed half discs distinctly in the clear night air, the larger moon golden white, and the hunter moon reddish beige.
Again, I held the coach door and helped the ladies up, then followed.
When the hacker turned into Hagahl Lane, I cleared my throat. “I suppose I should go . . .” I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to intrude.
“Don’t run off,” Betara said.
“Please come in,” added Seliora.
It didn’t take any more persuasion for me to accompany them inside.
Only two lamps were lit in the main-level hallway, and the large space was hushed.
“It’s early for you young people, but we need quiet time,” Betara said. “Good night.”
“Good night, Mama, Papa,” Seliora said. “We won’t stay up too late. Remember, we’re going riding tomorrow after brunch.”
“Better you than us. Good night.”
As they turned and headed up the side staircase to the third level, Seliora said, “It’s too cold on the upper terraces, but this late there won’t be anyone in the plaques room. It does have a small settee that’s not too uncomfortable. . . .”
Again, I wasn’t about to argue . . . and I followed her to a door I hadn’t noticed before, set almost in the northwest corner of the hall, but on the north wall. It was ajar, and Seliora eased it open and stepped inside the narrow room that ran across much of the north side of the building. In the dim light from the single pair of lamps still burning in the main hallway, I could see two boxes resting on the dark blue felt of the nearer plaques table, obviously holding plaques. Several other boxes rested on a cabinet against the far wall. The other two tables had nothing on them. Pharsis were known for being avid plaques players, but generally the gambling games, while the High Holders preferred whist.
Seliora didn’t light one of the wall lamps, and I didn’t suggest it. She did leave the door ajar. “This is the only time someone’s not here on the weekends. Well . . . except before breakfast.”
“Do you play?”
“Some. That’s because Shomyr insisted I had to learn. I’d rather do other things.” She turned and lifted her lips.
Thankfully, the settee was on the south wall and not visible from the doorway, unless someone actually stepped into the room.
43
On Samedi night, once more, despite the pleasant dinner with Betara and Shelim-and the even more enjoyable time with Seliora in the plaques room-I didn’t sleep well. I woke not that long after dawn on Solayi feeling like my intestines were strangled and my legs had been under an iron weight. I was so sore and stiff that I had to do some exercises before I headed downstairs for a cold shower and a colder shave. I knew that every muscle in my body would have contracted into spasms if that water had hit me without my loosening up.
Because I’d get a filling meal at Seliora’s, I didn’t have to eat breakfast at the dining hall. That way I could avoid Heisbyl, who was the duty master. It wasn’t that I disliked him, or even that I even disagreed with what he said. It was the condescending attitude. While he was older and more experienced, we were of the same rank, and I had been moderately successful both as a portraiturist and as an imager, facts that his attitude ignored.
I set out across the Bridge of Desires after eighth glass under a gray sky. Occasional fine flakes of snow drifted down, but melted as soon as they touched the stone of the pavement. In the sky to the west, I could see patches of pale blue. With some luck, the sun might be out before we started out on our ride. I had to wait more than a quint on the west side of the river before I could catch a hack to take me to NordEste Design and Seliora, and I wasn’t all that certain the driver wanted the fare, but was afraid to turn down an imager. Because it was cold, when I got out of the coach at Seliora’s, I gave him an extra pai
r of coppers beyond the normal one or two for a gratuity.
He didn’t quite smile, but he looked to be the type who seldom did. He did incline his head and say, “Much obliged, sir.”
“My thanks for the ride.” I did smile before turning and hurrying up the steps.
The twins-Hanahra and Hestya-opened the door, even before I lifted the knocker.
“Good morning, Master Rhennthyl,” offered one.
“Aunt Seliora,” the other called up the entry staircase, “he’s here!”
The twin at the door closed and bolted it, while the other scurried up before me.
Seliora was waiting at the edge of the carpeted part of the main entry hall. She wore long black riding skirts, with a pale pink shirt and a deep crimson vest.
She gave me an embrace and a kiss on the cheek, while the twins stood there and giggled, then said, “Mother and Aunt Odelia have fixed far too much. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m very hungry,” I admitted. “I didn’t have breakfast.”
“Good. You might even eat as much as Shomyr.” She took my arm, gently possessive. We walked toward the archway at the back of the entry hall that opened into the dining chamber.
Betara and Shelim turned as Seliora led me toward our places near the head of the table.
“Seliora told Mama Diestra about your brother. She is as sorry as we are.” The concern faded from Betara’s face, followed by a hardening expression as she added, “She also believes that we must give you anything we can to help. Anything.”
Shelim nodded.
From where she stood just across the table from Betara, Diestra nodded as well.
“Thank you.” I couldn’t help but be touched . . . and a bit fearfully awed.
All three smiled.
Whether it was because of Rousel’s accident, or informality, I actually ended up at the table beside Seliora, with Odelia and Bhenyt across from us, and Betara to my right.
Shelim cleared his throat as everyone continued to stand, then said, “For the grace that we all owe to each other, for the bounty of the earth of which we are about to partake, for good faith among all, and mercies great and small. For all these we offer thanks and gratitude, both now and ever more, in the spirit of that which cannot be named or imaged. . . .”
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