Pawn (The Pawn Series Book 1)

by Robin Roseau

  "We'll just need new tricks," Muranna said. "But that doesn't tell us how good he is. Has anyone seen him ride?"

  Juleena nodded. "He's a polo player. He took up the sport in Balstead several years ago."

  I looked at her. "Did you know that three days ago?"

  "You did your investigations," Juleena said. "I did mine."

  "We've had some polo players that have been a challenge for you, Yalla, and you lost to that one."

  "Yeah, but I was on Hamper that day," I said. "But this is still too big a wager. Sometimes I lose."

  "You were born in the saddle, Yalla," Ralalta said.

  "Polo ponies are bred for polo," Keelara pointed out. "Zana was bred for life in Garneer. She's good at the barrels, but a good polo pony could be better."

  I turned to Juleena. "Is he cruel to his mounts?"

  "It is said he is quite kind to them, actually," Juleena replied.

  I smiled. "I haven't taught Hamper how to speak Framaran."

  "The last I checked, none of our horses were able to speak, Yalla," Ralalta said with a smile.

  "The signals," I said. "Arrlottan horses listen to different signals than Framaran horses. I bet you taught all the other Arrlottan horses how to speak Framaran. But I haven't taught Hamper. But I can't make this wager."

  But at that, Ralalta began to smile.

  Subterfuge

  Keelara climbed into the carriage. Seconds later, we were moving -- nearly hurtling -- through the streets of Marport.

  "The Wet Whistle," she said. "He finally asked Ralissa for the name of a new pub."

  "Excellent," said Juleena. "I presume she's taking the long route."

  "Of course," Keelara said.

  This was our fourth night at this. Ralissa had replaced Fortin Grass's carriage driver, but the previous nights he hadn't been cooperative, selecting destinations for which we weren't prepared. We had hopes for this night. We would get to the Wet Whistle well ahead of him and be in place when he arrived. Hopefully he'd take the bait: Muranna and me.

  We were dressed as proper serving girls with simple dresses, although the bodices allowed us to expose a hint of cleavage on command, but only a hint. Muranna wore her hair down but pulled back with a ribbon. Mine was too short for that, but Muranna had found a way to add a ribbon, anyway.

  We didn't talk much during the carriage ride. I was nervous and clasped my hands in my lap, making a conscious effort to avoid wringing them. Muranna outwardly seemed calmer than I felt, but her lips were a little tight.

  Juleena noticed the tension and finally spoke. "If this works, great," she said. "If not, then we can evict him without reparations. If we must, we'll find another way to help out anyone who needs our help."

  I nodded, but it was Muranna who said, "I want to get him. He's an asshole."

  "He's an asshole who is going to be disgraced when he gets sent home," Juleena said. "He can go back to being King Valik's problem."

  We arrived in the alley behind the inn. Juleena and Keelara stepped out first, then Muranna and I. I took a hug from Juleena; she wouldn't be inside, although Keelara would be. "No unnecessary risks, Yalla," she said into my ear. "I mean it."

  "Of course not, Your Highness," I said. I kissed her cheek and then let Keelara usher us inside.

  The Wet Whistle had been Keelara's suggestion; the owners were "old family friends", as she put it. The back door was just off the kitchen, and we were noticed immediately. Balrick ran the kitchen and his wife, Orah, saw to the front room and the books. He looked up from the stew pot when we stepped in.

  "Oh good," he said. "Fresh help! Sarine is sick, so it's just Melna and Orah out front." He looked us up and down. "You two look perfect. We have plenty of stew tonight but we're running low on venison."

  "What kind of stew?"

  "Lamb," he said. "All right, it's mutton, but it's as tender as lamb. Here. Try it." He fished out a bowl and ladled out a little of the stew for us. We crossed the kitchen, and Balrick held out the bowl. I took it from him and sniffed, then held it for Muranna.

  "It smells amazing," I said. A moment later he held a spoon for each of us, and I took a sample.

  "Oh," Muranna said once her mouth was clear. "If this is what your stew is always like, we're coming here more often!"

  "It's been steeping all day," Balrick said, and I saw him puff out his chest a little.

  I tried a little more of the lamb. Err... Mutton. I didn't have a refined palate. I grew up on The Hippa, after all. "This is better than anything I had growing up," I announced, "and as good of stew as I've had since arriving in Marport. I'd eat an entire bowl right now if we had time."

  I handed back the bowl. "How do we look?"

  "Nervous. Don't be. You'll be fine. Just remember what we taught you."

  "Thanks, Balrick," I said. "Whether this works or not, we appreciate your help."

  I grabbed Muranna, and we turned to the door leading into the tavern's public room. The moment we arrived, Orah saw us. She was behind the bar, pulling a beer.

  "You two!" she called out. "Get over here!"

  We rushed over, putting ourselves into our characters. We each curtsied to her.

  "He's coming?" she asked us quietly.

  "Unless he changes his mind," I replied.

  She looked us up and down. "All right." She raised her voice. "Anna, help Sarine. These go to table six left."

  Muranna nodded and grabbed the four mugs. Orah looked at me. "Table twenty and four should be ready for you to sell them the stew."

  "Got it," I said.

  The taverns of Marport were all similar. Oh, sure, the decorating could be different. The arrangement of the tables could vary. Some had a fireplace; others didn't. The bar might be in different places. But they tended to the same basic structure.

  Tables tended to be communal, long and heavy and able to seat eight at a small table and up to twenty at a particularly long table. Some taverns used long benches. Some used several short benches. A few used stools or individual seats.

  At the Wet Whistle, there were four rows of three tables each, with a little room to walk between them. Standing at the bar, the door was exactly opposite and a large stone fireplace was on the left. The tables were logically numbered and easily identified. And then there were six more tables tucked into the corners, each sized only for two people, or a few more if they were very friendly.

  It appeared that Muranna and Sarine were handling the first two sections of tables, so I would see to the last section plus the small, individual tables.

  Muranna and I moved smoothly into our roles. I wouldn't say we were the best servers Marport had ever seen; we'd been given two days of practice. But the menu was simple and the table arrangement was easy to remember. I sold four bowls of stew at one table and three more at another. I delivered beer and cider and baskets of bread. I got called "a cute one" once, had my bottom patted "accidentally", and received an entirely intentional pinch from a twinkle-eyed granny. She got a kiss on the cheek and a whispered request not to do that again, as I was young, tender, and easily bruised. She chuckled and smoothed my bottom with her hand. I waved a finger at her and moved away.

  I made it back to Orah. "They're a little forward tonight."

  "If Tormira is too obnoxious, I'll have a word with her."

  "I can handle her," I said.

  We scurried about our jobs for another quarter hour before Fortin Grass stepped into the pub. I recognized him immediately, and when I looked at Muranna, it was clear she had seen him, too. The Drindarian spent a second or three in the entrance and then stepped forward to claim a vacant seat at the end of one of Muranna's tables. I tried to avoid looking like I was watching him. If he noticed me at all, it was in passing. I focused on my tables and let Muranna handle him.

  We basically had three plans. Either he showed no interest in either of us, or he showed interest in me, or in Muranna. If he showed no interest, the queen would simply evict him. There would be no reparations to the
women he'd been using, but we hadn't lost anything, either.

  If he showed interest in me, then it was easy.

  If he showed interest in Muranna, that's when it got complicated, but it wasn't anything we couldn't handle.

  And so, I paid attention to my duties, but by the time the man had ordered and eaten his dinner, it looked like he would be leaving Framara with his funds intact. But then things changed.

  I heard Muranna giggle loudly. When I looked over, Fortin was holding her hand and smiling. I did what I could to pay it no mind, but when I stopped by the bar to pick up a fresh order of beer, Orah whispered, "It appears he has taken the bait."

  "We'll see," I said.

  Still, it was another 15 minutes before Muranna intercepted me. "Cousin," she said. "I have someone who wants to meet you."

  She led me towards his table. I brought us to a stop perhaps three paces away. Fortin was watching us with a smarmy expression. I wanted to knife him. "He's kind of cute," I said to Muranna, making it look like I was saying it only to her, but loudly enough he would have heard.

  "Come on," Muranna said, tugging me forward. "Fortin..." She giggled when she said his name. "This is my, um. Cousin, Ari."

  "Cousin Ari, is it?" the man said, looking me up and down. Muranna and I were both dressed somewhat dowdily, so there wasn't much to see, but he smiled.

  I offered a simple curtsey. "We're not really cousins," I said, leaning close to him. "It just keeps explanations simple."

  "Of course it does," he said. And then he worked through one cliché after another, beginning by taking my hand and kissing it. "Your cousin tells me you do everything together."

  "That part is true," I said.

  "You have an accent."

  "I know," I said. I looked down thinking, 'Be coy. Be coy.' "I grew up on farm in the east."

  "Ari has shaken out all the hayseed," Muranna said. "Except for her accent."

  We chatted for a minute, Muranna and I giggling as necessary, then I begged off. I had tables to serve, after all.

  After that, the only indications I had that things were going well were the occasional giggles from Muranna and the fact that Fortin didn't leave. And so it was two hours later when Muranna next grabbed me.

  "Our shifts are over," she said, then giggled loudly. "Fortin has invited us for a carriage ride."

  "You know what happened the last time a gentlemen invited us for a carriage ride," I replied.

  Muranna offered me a well practiced, pleading look.

  "Is it at least a landau?" I asked. I already knew the answer, and so I let Muranna draw me over to the rogue, now waiting near the front door. There, I repeated the question.

  "I do not know this word," he admitted.

  "The carriage," I explained. "Does it have a top we can lower and enjoy the evening air?" I didn't want to be in an enclosed carriage with him, although if he were to attack us, he'd pay with more than money.

  "I was hoping for a little more privacy," he suggested.

  I looked him up and down and smiled as if I were pleased with what I saw, but then I said, "But we have barely met, and it is a pleasant evening."

  Muranna turned her eyes on the Drindarian, and I had never in my life seen a man able to resist when she did so. And so he said, "I believe there is a top to lower. I do not know if that makes my carriage a... what word did you use?"

  "Landau," I repeated with a smile. "Perhaps you should show us." Then, before he could take either my arm or Muranna's, I clasped hers and let him lead us out into the street. But as soon as we were all outside, she pulled away from me and slipped to one side of the man, simpering as she took his arm.

  Muranna was better at this than I was, and we both knew it. I had long grown accustomed to letting her take the lead when we were set to fleece a new sheep, and so I stepped to Fortin's other arm. I wasn't able to simper the way she could, but I clutched the arm, and so he led us down the street.

  His carriage was a half block away, waiting for him. As we drew closer, I recognized Ralissa, one of Keelara's most trusted guards, standing to the side.

  "Is this a... landau?" he asked, stumbling over the word.

  "It is," Ralissa answered for me.

  "Could we lower the top?"

  "Of course, good sir," Ralissa answered. And then we watched as she did just that, not lowering the top entirely, but sufficient for our reputations, so to speak, as if Muranna and I were two girls playing at following the rules of our betters.

  Ralissa and Fortin then together handed Muranna and me into the landau. Muranna took the backwards-facing seat, and I sat beside her, leaving the rearmost, forward-facing seat to Fortin. Ralissa climbed into her own place and swished the reins. It appeared Fortin had quietly told her where he wished to go.

  While I studied the man, Muranna engaged him in conversation, for what it was. Mostly that meant prompting him to speak of his deeds. I listened with half an ear while wondering how we should handle this.

  In the past, we hadn't done anything this convoluted. Oh, we could go to great lengths to arrange a chance meeting, sometimes of an individual, but more often a group of boys. Then it was always easier. Muranna could charm one -- or perhaps charm the lot of them so they could set to fighting between themselves for her affections -- and I was then free to attract whichever was willing to take second place. Or perhaps I was the greater prize, for those who knew I was the Queen's foster-daughter, but that was for other reasons.

  Muranna was the beauty between us. She may have suggested the hayseed had all been brushed away, but I would always carry The Hippa with me.

  But Fortin had been seducing innocent, wide-eyed maids, as best we could tell. It was as if he were setting up what he thought would be a challenge, perhaps so he could feel like he were truly a ladies' man when he convinced them to offer their hearts and maidenhoods. If we were too willing, we wouldn't present a challenge, and I worried we would lose his interest.

  On the other hand, we had practically promised a tryst with both of us, and perhaps that was at least as alluring as the conquest of a naïve maiden.

  I wasn't sure what we should do, now that we were together with him. Our entire plan was to let Muranna reel him in like a willing fish. And so I listened and watched.

  He actually was quite charming, to be fair. He was well traveled and soon had Muranna -- and then even me -- laughing with the tale of one of his exploits, and it was honest laughter. He laughed willingly even as he finished a rather self-deprecating tale. It quickly became clear why he'd had such little trouble seducing the maids of Marport.

  We rode about the town for the best part of an hour before coming to a stop at the front of one of the better inns of Marport, the Green Gables where Fortin was staying.

  "Perhaps the two of you would join me for a libation," Fortin said, all smiles.

  "Oh, that wouldn't do," Murana said. "That wouldn't do at all." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you want us, you have to win us."

  "Win you?"

  "Of course," she explained. She set a hand on his knee. "But perhaps you don't believe we're worth the effort."

  "Oh, you are definitely worth the effort, but however shall I win you?"

  Muranna leaned back. "We'll think of something. You may take us to dinner tomorrow and we'll discuss it then."

  It was Fortin's turn to lean forward. "And if I win you, what do I really win?"

  "Why, Mr. Grass," Muranna said. She turned to me and nuzzled at my neck for a while. I lidded my eyes and acted as if I enjoyed it. That part didn't take any acting skills. Then Muranna said, "I think you know exactly what you'll win."

  "I will send the carriage tomorrow," Fortin said. "Half seven." He stood to exit the carriage but leaned forward in an attempt to collect a kiss. Muranna offered a cheek, and then I offered the opposite cheek. The man stepped out, and Ralissa swished the reins.

  * * * *

  We rode all of three blocks before Keelara and Juleena, riding carefully t
hrough the streets, overtook the landau, and I thought I could see more guards riding along in the evening gloom. We barely slowed as they tied off their horses and climbed into the carriage. Keelara saw to the top, sheltering us from view.

  "Well?" Juleena asked.

  "Hooked," Muranna said with confidence.

  "Any trouble?"

  From her seat at the front of the carriage, Ralissa leaned backwards and said, "I do not like that man, as charming as he is. He is not the simple fool these two normally hoodwink."

  "Hey!" Muranna said.

  "She's right," I said. "But he is pretty and vain about it besides."

  "We don't hoodwink people," Muranna complained.

  "Of course you do," Juleena said. Juleena leaned forward and patted Muranna's knee. "Her Majesty and I clearly do not keep the two of you sufficiently occupied."

  Muranna grumped and said nothing, but Juleena smiled, and slowly Muranna smiled back. But she muttered something about, "We don't hoodwink anyone."

  Of course we did, and she knew it.

  "Keelara," I asked, "Is anyone watching him tonight?"

  "He's been watched since this started," she replied. "If he goes out again tonight, we'll know."

  "He might not be satisfied with a promise for tomorrow," Muranna said. "I don't want to have to catch him a second time."

  No one had an answer to that.

  * * * *

  The next evening, Muranna and I dressed as if we were two serving girls hoping to impress a man, but not impress him too much. There was just a little more hint of bosom available, a little more flair to our hips, a little more rouge in our cheeks. Fortin didn't come to retrieve us but instead sent the coach for us -- driven by Ralissa, of course. It wouldn't do to be picked up at the palace, of course, and so she retrieved us from the Wet Whistle three minutes after leaving Keelara and Juleena.

  Ralissa brought us back to the Green Gables. Fortin stepped out a few minutes after our arrival. Muranna gave him her hand and accepted a kiss on the cheek, and then it was my turn.

  This was a small bit of tricky part. We didn't know where he'd take us. He announced to Ralissa, "The Hungry Hawk," and she swished the reins.