Covenants (v2.2)

Home > Other > Covenants (v2.2) > Page 10
Covenants (v2.2) Page 10

by Lorna Freeman


  While we were talking, I could hear the crew’s and troopers’ voices as they conversed, joked, and called to each other. Now, out of that noise, I heard my name and I turned around. Lieutenant Groskin was headed our way.

  “He even moves like my sire,” Laurel said.

  I watched Groskin’s fluid strides and on the deck there was the shadow of a tail.

  “What do you see, Lord Rabbit?”

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  “Come away from the railing, Rabbit,” Groskin said as he arrived. He didn’t wait for me to comply, but grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

  “Forgive us, honored lieutenant,” Laurel said with a small bow as he also moved further from the rail. “We weren’t thinking.”

  “Too right you weren’t thinking.” Groskin glared at both of us and I found myself hanging my head like a schoolboy caught out. “Captain Suiden wants to see you both.” He waited for us to start moving and fell in beside us. I guessed I was going to get my lecture after all. I hunched my shoulders.

  Commander Ystan, Governor Somne and Doyen Orso came to see us off the next morning. I had spent the night in Lieutenant Groskin’s cabin, as Captain Suiden decided that he wanted me under his or the lieutenant’s eye at all times. That meant that Slevoic was shifted to Captain Javes’ cabin and Laurel had the choice of either Captain Suiden’s cabin or sleeping on the floor of ours. He chose our floor, muttering about the testiness of dragons in the morning. I slept well, despite the fact that I had to lie on my stomach and that both my bunkmates were prejudiced against fresh air, refusing to open the porthole. Groskin swatted my hand as I reached for it.

  “Night air is injurious,” Groskin said. “Besides, the whole idea is to keep you secure, Rabbit.”

  This time I muttered about there only being so much air in the cabin and having to share it with two big oafs, but Laurel only laughed and Groskin ignored me.

  I now stood on the deck next to Lieutenant Groskin as Captains Javes and Suiden went through the leave-taking ceremony. I ignored the muted whistles and calls of “sweet cheeks” by the sailors as I watched Ystan hand Suiden a sealed pouch.

  “For the Lord Commander,” he said, and Captain Suiden saluted and promised to deliver it personally.

  “I’ve sent a letter to my good friend Archdoyen Obruesk,” Doyen Orso said to Lieutenant Groskin, “regarding your arrival in Iversly. Hopefully, you’ll be able to spend some time with him.”

  “Yes, uncle,” Groskin said.

  Finally, with one last bow, a salute, and Groskin surviving a crushing bear hug by Doyen Orso, we were rid of our guests and the ship’s captain gave the signal to set sail.

  “Next stop, the Royal City,” Laurel said.

  Chapter Twenty

  The heat was alive, weighing us down as we lay boneless in any shade we could find, every breath full of water. Hot water. It ran off of us in rivulets and made everything limp and bedraggled. We even found mushrooms growing in dark places and Ryson mildewed once more. He washed his clothes and bedding, but nothing dried and so he had to launder them again and again (which was, overall, a good thing). By our last day on the Banson, we were perilously close to being out of soap.

  We were in the city’s outskirts, the last of the farmland and country estates had fallen away some time ago, and the King’s Road, now running parallel to the river, was thick with the sky blue of dock warehouses, the occasional sprinkle of the gold of government and the purple tiles of army posts. Then we rounded the final bend and started the approach to the city proper and I caught a whiff of something that made me sneeze.

  “That’s the sea,” Suiden said, standing next to me in the prow, under one of several awnings the boat’s captain had erected for shade on the deck. (I called blessings down on his head each time I prayed.) I knew that I looked like a vaudeville provincial, but I leaned forward trying to see beyond the city to the ocean. Off in the distance there was a broad shimmer of light.

  “Heigh-ho,” I said softly. The smell washed over me again, a salty scent that evoked tales of elegant windriders that seemed bonded to their captains and alive. I shivered.

  “Yes,” Captain Suiden said.

  “Good view of the city, what?” Captain Javes said, coming up behind us. With him was Laurel, panting, and Lieutenants Groskin and Slevoic.

  I realized that I had ignored the Royal City in my quest for the sea, and I pulled my senses back to Iversly. And was bombarded. “Poxy hell!” I danced back from the railing wide-eyed.

  “Too much for your lordship?” Slevoic smirked.

  “Bloody yes!” I resisted, barely, clapping my hands over my ears and shutting my eyes. I did try to breathe through my mouth as the aromas of flowers and spices, jakes and middens, bakeries and kitchens, drains and gutters obliterated the sea scent, but all that did was cause me to taste it. Combined with the chaotic sights and loud sounds, it was way too much and I wanted to go to my cabin and hide.

  “It is rather overwhelming, no?” Laurel said, his eyes wide also. He covered his nose with one paw.

  I looked down and confirmed the presence of dead fish lying bloated in the green and oily water. The prow splashed through a wave and I moved even farther away from the railing, as I didn’t want to get any of the river on me.

  “Don’t worry, Sro Laurel, Lieutenant Rabbit, you’ll get used to it—if only in self-defense,” Captain Suiden said. He too had moved back from water washing up on the deck. “That’s where we’re going to dock, if I’m not mistaken,” he said, looking to the side. “I reckon we have about an hour before we do so.” He turned to Captain Javes. “It’s time to get the men together and give them their orders.” I followed the captains, as Suiden’s lecture on following directives was to the point (and very pointed). I heard boot steps beside me and assumed it was Groskin.

  “Well, Lord Puke, you’ve finally arrived in the big city,” Slevoic said.

  So it wasn’t Groskin. In my defense, I was fighting the odor of decaying fish mixed with turbid water. “Let it be, Slevoic.”

  Slevoic must have looked around and seen everyone was occupied, for he hooked my ankle with his booted foot to send me flying over the railing into the river. Except that I caught my balance and bumped into him. Accidentally. “Oh dear, how clumsy of me.” I reached down to help him up, but he batted my hand away and climbed to his feet.

  “Lieutenant Slevoic,” Captain Suiden said.

  Slevoic looked at him from behind blue eyes.

  “You will oversee the unloading of the horses.”

  For a long moment Slevoic stood motionless; then he saluted and went below deck. Ryson made to follow him.

  “Oh, I say, where are you going?” Captain Javes asked.

  Ryson paused. “I, uh—I’m assigned to the horses, sir.”

  “Oh, jolly good dedication to duty and all that, but we’ve something else planned for you.” Javes did his bugger me smile and beckoned Ryson to him. I noticed, though, how the captain was careful to remain upwind.

  I was assigned to Laurel—no surprise there—and gathering our luggage and warded cargo, we waited in the shade of one of the awnings, watching the sailors prepare to dock. Doyen Allwyn joined us with his own baggage, including the bell cask.

  “We never did get a chance to talk, Ambassador Laurel,” the church elder said as he sat down beside the Faena.

  Laurel rumbled agreement. “No, we did not.”

  “I have so many questions.” The doyen sighed and looked out over the river and the city. “I’ll be honest and tell you that I’m not looking forward to the next few days, especially when I tell His Holiness the Patriarch what has happened.” He looked at the cask and then the bundled staff and dragon skin. “Is happening.” The boat bumped against the pier and once again I got to see the sailors’ skill in docking. Doyen Allwyn stood and waited until we did also. “Hopefully, we will still be able to find time to converse together.”

  Laurel and I bowed.

  “Thank you for not
pressing about who gave me the staff,” the doyen said. “For allowing me to handle it myself.”

  “Honored elder,” Laurel said as he bowed again.

  “Blessings,” Doyen Allwyn said, waving his hand over us. “May you truly bring peace and understanding.” He turned and walked away.

  There was a moment of silence as we sat down again.

  “So you weren’t able to find out where the staff came from either, eh?” Laurel asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Laurel sighed as he leaned back, his staff propped beside him. “So, something else to discover while we’re here.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  There were thousands of pigeons in the Royal City and one of them must have carried the news of our arrival, as we were met at the docks by a lieutenant, a government clerk and a gaggle of clergy surrounding another doyen. My stomach clenched as I looked around to see if there was anyone who looked like my ma or da, but no one appeared who resembled my family. Laurel and I had loaded the staff and skin onto a horse, and I went down the boarding plank with the other troopers, holding its reins. When I reached the wharf, I felt as though I had been swallowed by the city and fought the urge to go back on the ship.

  Remembering my orders, I walked over to where Captain Suiden stood with Captain Javes, Doyen Allwyn and Laurel Faena, all facing our welcome party. Lieutenant Groskin joined me; there was no sign of Slevoic but I did notice that Ryson was standing guard over a mound of trunks and cases. Behind them, Basel fussed over unloading the food supplies.

  Hearing footsteps, I turned and saw Jeff approaching.

  “Captain Suiden said that I’m to guard your, uh, backside, Rabbit,” Jeff said as he reached me, “to ward off any attacks by demonic splinters.”

  “You can take your sodding splinters and—” I began.

  Captain Suiden moved aside, abruptly claiming my attention. “And this is Lieutenant Lord Rabbit ibn Chause e Flavan.”

  Startled, I snapped around and started to salute, then bow, and then figuring that I already looked a right ass and so might as well do it proper, did both. I heard snickering and made a rude gesture behind my back.

  My salute was merely returned by the lieutenant, but the clerk bowed.

  “Grace to you, Lord Rabbit,” she said. “Losan eso Dru, from the Lord Treasurer’s office.”

  The Iversly cleric waved his hand, his mouth in a thin smile. “Blessings, Lord Rabbit. I am Archdoyen Obruesk.”

  Blinking at the deep bass coming from the skinny rail of a man with very little hair left on his egg-shaped head, I bowed again. “Your Eminence.”

  Archdoyen Obruesk’s smile widened. “And blessings, Groskin. Your uncle Doyen Orso sent word via mail boat that you would be arriving.”

  “Grace to you, Your Eminence,” Groskin said, bowing.

  “Is Orso well?”

  “Yes, Your Eminence. He sends his greetings.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I look forward to dining with you while you’re here.” The lieutenant, who had been impatiently waiting while the archdoyen laid claim to Groskin, turned to Suiden and Javes. “There’s a saying about those who choose to stand in the hot sun. Shall we remove to someplace cooler, sirs?” The archdoyen shot the lieutenant a look and opened his mouth, but Losan spoke before he could.

  “Yes. And I will take you, Ambassador Laurel, to the residence set aside for your embassy.”

  A faint frown came and went on Suiden’s face.

  “It’s all right, honored captain,” Laurel said.

  “I’ve been charged with your safekeeping, Sro Laurel,” Suiden said.

  “So you have. Until I reach Iversly. Which I have.” Laurel smiled, showing gleaming eyeteeth, and while the welcome party didn’t step back, they did seem to lean outward a little. The Faena ignored the archdoyen’s glare. “I can hardly lodge with you in the barracks.”

  “That is so, Sro Laurel, but while Lieutenant Rabbit has been assigned as your liaison, he is also under my command. I will not let him go off by himself.” The welcome party now looked at me as they would a village simpleton. I heard more snickering and made a ruder gesture.

  “Besides,” Suiden said, “Commander Ebner was quite explicit in his directives.” He thought a moment, then turned to the welcome lieutenant. “I know that there will be guards at the embassy. Is it possible we could take over those duties?”

  “What a splendid idea,” Javes said. “Why don’t we just toddle along with Ambassador Laurel while you find out, Lieutenant?”

  I found myself looking at Captain Javes sidelong. He was doing his silly ass smile (which was a shade different than his silly bugger) but beyond that I saw the wolf in parade dress for the first time.

  The welcome lieutenant let out a sigh. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, sirs.” He sighed again and nodded at the clerk. “We will follow you to the ambassador’s residence.” He looked back at Suiden. “Although I doubt, sir, that you will be able to fit your full complement in the residence.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out,” Suiden said. He turned and looked at Groskin. “Give the command to move out, Lieutenant.” At Groskin’s shout, we swung up on our horses and followed the Royal Garrison lieutenant and the clerk, the church clergy staying with us—apparently to bless away any ill intent from the waterfront’s denizens. As we moved through the streets I tried not to gawk, but I was seeing things I had only heard about—and had dismissed as untrue at the time.

  “There’s something about sailors that draws whores like flies,” Groskin said as he rode next to me, his mouth quirking up—after he first glanced ahead to make sure the arch-doyen was out of earshot. “Almost as bad as soldiers.” The prostitutes in Freston never looked as raddled as these poor drabs. (I guess there was an advantage to small town living.) One full of pockmarks caught my eye and, after she gave a great hacking cough and spat out what was left of her lungs, smiled, showing blackened teeth. I snapped forward as I heard snickering behind me. I made another rude gesture, then worried that she would see and take it as an invitation. Until we rounded a corner, I sneaked glances back to make sure she wasn’t following.

  We wound through the Royal City’s streets, our surroundings improving until we were riding down broad boulevards and through large squares. The bubble was back, the city’s folk doing a double take and then giving wide berth to our party, their eyes wide as they realized that the large cat walking out in front of us was real. The sun beat down and I wondered how Laurel could stand the heat of the paving stones against his bare pads. My toes curled in sympathy. Or at least they tried. I’d sweated so much in my boots that my feet were drowning.

  We turned the corner and were in another large square, the center full of trimmed grass, flowers, clipped bushes and trees. We edged along it until we came to a large house and stopped. Losan turned to the Faena.

  “Your residence, Ambassador.”

  “Where are his guards?” Suiden asked, his brows raised.

  “Uh, I’m sure they’ll be along soon,” Losan said, looking at the lieutenant.

  “Not my jurisdiction,” he replied, shrugging.

  “It’s just as well, then, that we came here,” Suiden said, swinging down from his horse. He walked up to the door and knocked. We waited. He knocked again. We waited again. He tried the door and it swung open, showing a darkened hall with no one in sight. “Where are the embassy servants?”

  “Normally ambassadors supply their own,” Losan said.

  “Yes, but Commander Ebner’s missive stated that Sro Laurel had no retinue.”

  “Uh—”

  Suiden sighed and came back to Laurel. “It is, then, just as well that we are here.” He looked at Losan. “I am sure that you will see that the ambassador receives all the servants he needs to run his embassy.”

  “And who will pay their wages?” the clerk asked, recovering. She stared down at the Faena, who stood there wearing only beads and feathers, his mouth open
as he panted in the heat.

  Laurel gave a slight bow. “Do not worry, honored—hmm—do not worry. The High Council took into account the need to support myself. I have more than enough to take care of any expense.”

  “The kingdom does not recognize Border coinage,” Losan said. “We’ve heard about fairy gold.”

  “As I have no fae gold, there’s no problem.” Laurel turned and looked at the dark—and cool-looking—interior. “But why are we standing out here when we could be in there?” He didn’t wait for an answer but started up the walk to the door.

  I swung down from my horse, followed by Groskin and Jeff. We got in front of the Faena and entered first, scanning the foyer. It was like entering a cool cave and Laurel gave a sigh of relief as he reached the hallway tiles. “Much, much better,” he murmured. He turned and caused the clerk, who had followed behind us, to step back again.

  “Sweet river of life—”

  I figured she wasn’t talking about the Banson as it flowed through the city. I glanced at Laurel and saw his amber eyes were glowing in the dimness. They winked out as he gave a long, slow blink, then came alive again. I looked back out the door and saw our escorts had clustered around the door and were staring at the Faena too, the arch-doyen’s mouth pulling down at the corners. Out beyond them were the troops. I could see Ryson with the luggage carts and behind him, Slevoic leading the spare horses.

  “If you would please, Javes, secure the premises,” Suiden said, from the street. “I will go with the lieutenant from the garrison to present the dispatches.” As Suiden rode off with the welcome lieutenant and the church contingent (Doyen Allwyn looked longingly over his shoulder at us), the troop moved in.

  It was a large, graceful house, cool in the afternoon heat with smooth walls, colored tiles and arched hallways. It was built around a courtyard, full of lush plants filtering green light through the windows. Some of the ground floor rooms had glass doors and when we opened them, we could hear the splash and tinkle of the fountain in the courtyard center. There were fruit trees and shaded nooks with benches, paving stones and grass, flowers and lattices. I stood at a door, inhaling the fragrance, when the wind sighed and once more I caught scent of the sea.

 

‹ Prev