“I had thought to bring a few more servants with us,” Urien apologized. “It’s so cold, though, I thought a small carriage would be more comfortable and more private. However, if you would rather walk—”
“Oh, no, a carriage sounds perfect,” Jael said hurriedly, realizing what that meant—Lord Urien and herself alone in the carriage, with the guards riding outside.
Urien apparently had not brought his own carriage to town, for Jael recognized the waiting vehicle as a hired carriage from one of the local businesses. It was luxuriously comfortable, however, with a weatherproofíng spell to warm the interior. Jael was unaccustomed to the lord’s politeness in extending a hand to help her in first, but she grinned quietly to herself when he sat down beside her, instead of taking the opposite seat.
“There’re three houses I know of that should still be available,” Jael told him. “Two are on North Street and one is on River Road, but the one on River Road may be too far south.”
“Then let’s look at that one first,” Urien said gaily. “In this weather, the farther south, the better.”
Jael stuck her head outside long enough to give directions to the driver and make sure that none of the guards would be able to hear the conversation inside the carriage. She ducked back inside, shivering, and Urien gallantly took off his fur-lined cloak, wrapping it around her.
“Thank you,” Jael said, smiling. “And thanks for the tea, too.”
“I’m glad you liked the tea,” Urien smiled back, his eyes twinkling.
“I liked this, too.” Jael fished the pendant out of her shirt. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It must be very valuable.”
“It looks beautiful on you,” Urien said. He grinned sheepishly. “But I should confess that that piece was made by a cousin of mine, so I got rather a good bargain on it. Nonetheless, I was afraid the High Lord and Lady might disapprove.”
“Disapprove? Mother would chew coal and breathe fire,” Jael said wryly.
Urien laughed. “I would think your parents would be accustomed to such attentions by now,” he said gently. “Surely your suitors have given you many gifts.”
“Suitors?” Jael wiped the blank expression off her face as quickly as she could. Of course Urien would expect her to have had suitors; most daughters of noble birth would have been long married by now. “Well—”
Urien raised his eyebrows.
“Surely a lovely young noblewoman like yourself has had many suitors,” he said inquiringly.
“Well, you heard Mother,” Jael said awkwardly. “As she sees it, I’m just one of the children.”
“Ah.” Urien took her hand, stroking it sympathetically. “How frustrating that must be for you.”
“It surely is,” Jael said sourly. Urien’s hands were cool, and Jael realized uncomfortably that she was still wearing his cloak. “I’m warmer now, if you want this back,” Jael said hesitantly.
“We’ll share it.” Urien moved a little closer, draping the spacious cloak around both of them—and his arm around Jael’s shoulders in the process. Jael was not fooled by this maneuver—a quiet, unobtrusive observer around town could watch almost every possible technique of flirting—but when Urien attempted nothing more intimate, Jael smiled rather triumphantly to herself and settled comfortably against his side.
When Jael had cautioned that the house on River Road might be too far south, she had not been referring to climate. Southern Noble District bordered on Rivertown, not a desirable neighborhood. The house Jael had seen was indeed still available, but it fronted on a tavern and a brothel, and there were beggars in the alleys on both sides. Urien insisted on seeing the house anyway, and Jael found the excursion interesting; Jael had never seen the large stone buildings empty, and the rooms seemed icy cold and echoingly large.
“Well, it is a fine house,” Urien said regretfully several hours later, when they had made their way from the upper rooms to the cellar. “Unfortunately I must agree that the neighborhood isn’t suitable.”
“I told you that before we ever got inside,” Jael laughed as they settled into the coach.
“Ah, but then I would have had to take you back to the castle that much sooner,” Urien smiled back. “Shall we dine in the market?”
Jael sighed.
“I can’t eat,” she said. “I have to fast for two days for this elven ritual. It’s supposed to unblock my magic and make me stop tripping over my own feet.”
“A miraculous ritual indeed,” Urien chuckled. “But are you a mage, then?”
“Not yet,” Jael said ruefully. “Grandmother Celene says I’ve got it, but I can’t use it. Mother doesn’t think the ritual is going to work, either. So I’m probably starving for two days for nothing.”
“What a pity,” Urien sighed. “I heard there was a man selling dragon in the plaza.”
Jael had thought that after her hearty breakfast, she wouldn’t want food for hours and hours; at the mention of dragon, however, her mouth watered.
“There’s no reason you shouldn’t eat, just because I can’t,” Jael said, trying valiantly not to look hungry.
“Eat while you go hungry? Certainly not,” Urien said indignantly. “Is there nothing you can have?”
“Boiled potherbs and vegetable broth,” Jael said miserably, wishing she had simply said she was not hungry. “Tea.”
“Then we will find an obliging inn.” Urien leaned out the carriage window and spoke to the driver; Jael, utterly amazed, was escorted grandly into the Silver Scepter, where other nobles looked on rather dubiously as Jael and Urien were served plates of plain boiled greens and cups of steaming tea from Urien’s stock.
Urien raised an eyebrow at the potherbs, but smiled at Jael and raised his cup of tea in a congenial toast.
“Very healthful, I’m sure, and balancing to the body’s humors,” he chuckled. “Well calculated to reduce an overgenerous waist.”
Jael, who had never cared for boiled potherbs, found the food abysmal, but the tea was even more delicious than Jael remembered it, and that made the greens more tolerable. Jael was even more embarrassed when she realized that Urien was being charged two Suns for the miserable meal, but Urien simply laughed, joking that on the caravan to Allanmere, his servants had gathered whole pans full of fresh potherbs and cooked them up for not so much as a copper, and with the added flavoring of meat. He asked the maid to brew another pot of tea and pour it into a heat-spelled pot for the afternoon, and paid yet another Sun for that; Jael started to protest, then realized that to a merchant who could afford to give her a pendant worth doubtless hundreds of Suns, three Suns for a meal was likely nothing new to him.
They looked at one of the houses on North Street, but the other was closed and locked, although a peep in at the windows showed it to be empty.
“That wouldn’t stop Aunt Shadow for a minute,” Jael said, sighing. “I suppose we’ll just have to contact the owner and come back tomorrow.”
“How terrible,” Urien chuckled, and Jael grinned at him.
“Did you arrange for this house to be closed up?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t even know where it was. How could I?” Urien protested, but he was smiling. “But it’ll have to be day after tomorrow, Lady Jaellyn. I can’t neglect the temple.”
“I can’t go then,” Jael said disappointedly. “I’ve got to go to that elven ritual I mentioned, and I don’t know for certain how long it’ll take.” Jael bit back a sigh, stifling her disappointment. She could scarcely expect the lord to spend all his time with her; he had, after all, come to Allanmere to deal with the Temple of Baaros, not to visit her.
“If you don’t mind, then, I’ll wait to see the other house when you can come with me,” Urien said. “I still must contact the owner, and tramping through cold, dusty, empty houses is much more interesting with a pleasant companion.”
Urien reached for the clay pot of tea; however, to his disgust, the pot had cracked, leaking the tea over the floor of the carriage.
“I see it’s a matter of pride not to use a sealing spell on pottery locally,” he said wryly. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll bring a metal pot.”
Jael said nothing, squirming inwardly. She’d be willing to bet that there had been a sealing spell on the pot—before it was placed in the carriage with Jael. No, there was no chance that she was going to tell Lord Urien about that unfortunate problem; besides, if luck was with her for once, in a couple of days it wouldn’t matter.
When they reached the castle, Urien escorted Jael to her room after dismissing the guards.
“I must change before supper, and be sure that my people have moved the rest of my belongings to the inn,” he said regretfully. He bowed over her hand and kissed it, his lips cool against her knuckles. “But perhaps you would care to walk with me in the gardens after supper. High Lord Argent told me that supper would be early tonight. It’s a little chill, but the changing colors of the leaves are beautiful in the sunset.”
Jael was amazed to realize she was blushing.
“I’d like that very much,” she said, forcing her voice to firmness. She’d be boiled in oil before she would simper like some tittering, idiotic maiden. She hooked one finger through the gold chain of the pendant, pulling the chain up a little so Urien could see it. “Thank you again for your gift. It’s lovely.”
“Then perhaps it is worthy of its wearer,” Urien said smoothly. “Until supper, then.”
Jael stood watching after him for a few moments, then sighed and closed her door, wondering dismally what she could possibly wear to supper. Maybe it was time to call in Mother’s seamstresses and see what they could make up new for her. Maybe—
Jael shook her head, flopping onto her bed. Mooning over finery and blushing! Soon she’d be dropping handkerchiefs and giggling and darkening her eyelashes. What in the Mother Forest’s name did she think she was doing with Urien anyway? Certainly she was enjoying the attention, but what was she hoping for? Even if she wanted to marry him and become the lady of a large merchant family—an abysmal thought—there was no chance at all that her parents would ever permit her to marry a merchant and priest who would, in all probability, soon be returning to another city. Not marriage, then.
A few nights’ passion with a handsome, romantic nobleman from a far city? Jael sighed disgustedly at the idea. Did she really want Urien in her bed, or was she merely that desperate to prove that she wasn’t a child? And prove it to whom, Urien or herself? Her mind might be curious, but her body wouldn’t care if she waited twenty more years for her first tumble.
“Jael!”
The whispered voice came from Jael’s window, and Jael was surprised at the face peeping in.
“Tanis?” Jael hurried over. “What are you doing here?”
“I sneaked away from the temple,” Tanis admitted. “They dismissed all the acolytes, anyway, while the priests are all locked in rooms arguing. I wanted to come and apologize for scolding you like an old grandmother in the market. It’s not your fault that—well—”
“—that everything goes wrong all around me,” Jael finished. “Well, it is my fault in a way, even though I don’t mean to do it. That’s all right, Tanis. I seem to sour everybody’s milk at some time or other. I’m just glad you’re not still angry with me. I don’t have many friends. Don’t you want to come in?”
“No, I’ve got to hurry back to the temple before I’m missed,” Tanis said with a sigh. “And tomorrow High Priest Urien is going to be looking through all the temple records, so I’ll be busy all day carrying scrolls back and forth. But do you want to go to the market tomorrow evening?”
“All right,” Jael said eagerly. An evening of Tanis’s lively, undemanding company was just what she needed. Then she remembered and sighed. “I probably can’t. I’ve got to go to the Heartwood the next morning for this elven ritual, and Mist will likely have me meditating all evening or something. Can we go when I get back?”
“Of course,” Tanis said. “Any evening that High Priest Urien doesn’t have me digging through the temple archives.”
“What do you think of Lord—High Priest Urien, anyway?” Jael asked him.
“I don’t know.” Tanis frowned. “I was almost relieved when he came. I was worrying that the temple would be thrown out of the city, I suppose. And he knows everything about how to run a temple, I think. But he’s—I don’t know. Somehow I don’t like him.”
“Why not?” Jael pressed, surprised to find herself bristling a little.
“I don’t know,” Tanis said, shrugging. “It’s like when you bite into a meat pie and the meat’s spoiled, but the spices hide the flavor. At first you don’t notice anything, and then you can’t figure out why the pie doesn’t taste right. And the next thing you know, you’re spewing your guts out in the privy.”
Jael had to laugh at that.
“I don’t think Mother quite likes him either,” Jael confessed. “I don’t know why. I think he’s been very friendly and polite.”
“He certainly wasn’t polite with Ankaras,” Tanis said wryly. “He got so angry I thought he’d lock us all up in the
cellar. He has all of us doing menial work now, while he and his priests do all the rituals and make the decisions.”
“Well, he’s Ankaras’s superior, isn’t he?” Jael asked. “Doesn’t Ankaras have to obey him?”
“We all do,” Tanis said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll meet with you when you get back, then.”
“All right,” Jael said, wondering a little at Tanis’s attitude. From what she’d seen at the temple, Ankaras had seemed a very harsh master indeed. She couldn’t imagine Urien, however angry, being so severe.
Because the early autumn weather often necessitated Jael drinking potions and herbal teas, Jael always kept a kettle and water near the fireplace in her room. Now she filled the kettle and heated the water, shaving some of Urien’s tea into the water to brew, sniffing pleasurably at the aroma as the heat of the fire warmed her through.
There was time for a leisurely bath before supper, and by the time Jael had found something suitable to wear from her scanty wardrobe, only her growling stomach marred her mood. A last cup of hot, sweet tea somewhat soothed her hunger, and for once she did not have to rush down to supper.
Shadow and Mist were already there, as were Mother and Father, chatting with Lord Urien. Urien appeared completely at his ease, despite being the only full-blood human in the room. He smiled delightedly when Jael entered the room.
“Good evening, Lady Jaellyn,” he said, taking Jael’s hand and turning so that his back was to the others. “I was thanking your parents again for allowing you to help me find a house. It is most kind of them, and of you, it being such a tedious job in this weather.” He grinned and winked deliberately.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Jael said, grinning back and joining in the game. “I’d rather look at houses than go to fighting practice, at least.”
There were still candles at the table instead of light globes, and now Jael was sure that Mother and Father had delayed replacing the light globes because of her. To Jael’s relief, however, no place had been set for Markus or Mera, probably because of their behavior the night before.
“So you didn’t find anything suitable?” Shadow asked. “What about the two houses on North Street I saw yesterday?”
“We saw one of them,” Urien said. “It might suffice, but I’d prefer to see the other before I make my choice.”
“Who owns the western house, the one with the blue glass windows?” Jael asked her parents. “You know, the one with that awful gargoyle statue on the roof.”
Shadow laughed.
“That used to belong to Numan, the merchant who sold statuary to the temples,” she said. “I once heard he put that gargoyle on the roof because he couldn’t sell it. I was in that house once. It’s a fairly comfortable place, and there’s a nice hidden cache behind a stone in the hearth for your valuables.”
“And how did you manage to learn that?” Mist as
ked Shadow, grinning.
“Well, why do you think I was there?” Shadow joked back. “To tumble that snag-toothed old corpse?”
“Aunt Shadow used to be Guildmistress of the Guild of Thieves,” Jael explained to Urien.
“Oh, my.” Urien bowed. “I am honored, Guildmistress.”
“Retired,” Shadow corrected. “Aubry’s the one you have to deal with now. Although he’s got more respect for the Temple District than I ever did, I admit.”
“Then I will in turn admit that what you say is a relief,” Urien chuckled. “My poor temple has little enough wealth to sustain it that I’m afraid we can afford few ‘donations’ to the Guild.”
“Isn’t that a little odd, an impoverished temple to a mercantile god?” Mist asked confusedly.
“Baaros’s blessings are meant for His worshippers, not for the luxury and comfort of His priests,” Urien said patiently.
“Most priests, being from mercantile houses themselves, have some private wealth to use for their personal comfort, but the temples themselves are funded by the offerings of the worshippers.”
“An interesting system,” Shadow said thoughtfully. “Most temples supposedly don’t allow their priests to keep personal wealth, but feed and keep them out of temple funds.”
Urien smiled, but his explanation of temple economics was interrupted by the arrival of the servants bearing platters of food. Urien escorted Jael to the table, and when Jael was served a plate of plain boiled greens, she was afraid that Urien would request the same for himself out of misplaced gallantry; fortunately, Urien hesitated, but finally helped himself to the venison roast.
Shadow had heard most of the news about the Temple of Baaros from Donya and Argent (and likely from Aubry as well), but she didn’t seem to mind hearing it again from Urien. Jael toyed with her greens—only two meals and already she was heartily sick of the taste—and ground her teeth. At least Aunt Shadow wasn’t actively flirting with Urien. Jael was privately of the opinion that there was probably no man in Allanmere who could withstand so formidable an assault. Jael glanced down surreptitiously at her still almost-flat chest, wiry legs, and rumpled tunic, and sighed disgustedly.
Dagger's Edge (Shadow series) Page 9