Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  The pirate remained silent and Sullyan smiled.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They were approaching their suite, Sullyan anticipating a cup of hot fellan and a bath before dressing for dinner. The smell of horses clung to her clothing, the result of an unsatisfying but ultimately successful interview with the Hierarch’s horse master. The man hadn’t known who she was, and it had taken Anjer’s note of authority to gain her what she wanted. While there, she had also checked on Drum and Torka, as well as Marik’s warhorse.

  Intent on her bath, she wasn’t happy at being waylaid by a member of the Velletian Guard, especially when the man planted himself stiffly in front of her and performed a barely respectful salute.

  She glared at him. “Yes?”

  “Your pardon, Lady, but the Lord General requests your presence in his office.”

  She waited, making him fidget. Finally deciding not to be difficult, she said, “Very well.”

  As he led the way, she cast a glance over her shoulder at Robin. He aimed a thought at her, showing her Vanyr’s expression as he drew his men away from the pirate’s compound. Grimly, she threw an image back, showing the vindictive Commander in an uncomfortable and life-threatening situation involving her sword. Robin stifled a snort. He knew how serious this could be.

  The guard led them through the Palace to a door which opened into a comfortable and spacious office. The room contrasted starkly with the sparseness of Sullyan’s own office back at the Manor, which was never used to impress as this one obviously was. The carpeting was rich and expensive, military banners adorned the walls, and the table was varnished to a high luster. There was gilding everywhere, and the faint scent of polish hung in the air. Sullyan wrinkled her nose.

  The guard ushered them inside, announced them, and left.

  Lord General Anjer stood at a huge window overlooking the inner Palace courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t speak or turn round, and Sullyan and Robin waited before the table in silence. The Major recognized the tactic.

  Eventually, Anjer turned and they both accorded him a respectful salute, Robin even remembering the correct style. Anjer smiled faintly before schooling his features, and moved to stand behind the table.

  “Major Sullyan.”

  “My Lord General.”

  Anjer sat. “I believe you have been to see the pirate, Ky-shan?”

  “You have been well-informed, my Lord.”

  Anjer’s eyes narrowed. “I have also been informed that you were involved in a duel.”

  “Have you, my Lord?”

  His lips thinned and his voice betrayed tension. “Well, Major? Is it true?”

  She couldn’t afford to push Anjer’s patience too far. Looking him full in the eyes for the first time, she replied firmly. “As dueling in wartime is punishable by death, my Lord, I hardly think so.”

  “Then what did Commander Vanyr see?”

  She permitted understanding to show on her face. “Ah. Commander Vanyr.” Her pause made Anjer frown. “What the Commander saw, my Lord, was a simple training session.”

  Anjer surged to his feet. “Don’t play games with me, Major. I’m not a fool! Training session? With a pirate?”

  She held his black gaze. “Ky-shan and I have come to an understanding, my Lord, whereby his men will accept my command. But if you cannot take my honest word on what transpired, perhaps you will take Ky-shan’s?” Deliberately, she lowered her eyes.

  After a tense pause, Anjer barked for the guard. “Fetch Commander Vanyr. Bring Ky-shan too.” As the man left, Anjer pointed a finger at Sullyan. “If I find you’ve been dueling, Major, then no matter what the outcome, the consequences will be serious. It will reflect very badly on his Majesty, who has placed his trust in you. I presume you realize that?”

  “Of course, my Lord.”

  Anjer subsided into his chair, his expression thunderous. While they waited in silence for those summoned to arrive, he studied her with what seemed to be a mix of exasperation and admiration. Sullyan remained calm and impassive, hoping Anjer was regretting summoning her on Vanyr’s say-so.

  Soon the guard returned, bringing a self-righteous Vanyr and a bemused but wary Ky-shan. The pirate’s wound was invisible to someone who didn’t know it was there, and Sullyan’s healing meant that he could move freely. She saw Vanyr staring at the pirate, his expression puzzled.

  Once the guardsman left, Vanyr snapped a salute. Ky-shan just stood looking from Anjer to Sullyan, who accorded him not one glance. She was radiating ease, but sensed Robin’s tension as soon as Vanyr entered the room. She wouldn’t give much for the Commander’s prospects if Robin ever came across him unarmed.

  Anjer stared at Ky-shan, but soon realized he would get no acknowledgement from the pirate. Pursing his lips, he addressed Vanyr.

  “Commander, repeat what you told me you witnessed earlier this afternoon.”

  Vanyr was only too eager to oblige. “My men had abandoned their exercises near the pirate’s compound, sir, and I went to see what had distracted them. The Major had entered the compound and I saw her and this … this ruffian … engaged in what was obviously a duel for leadership of his band.”

  He stopped, smiling smugly.

  Anjer heaved a sigh. “Ky-shan, what is your version of events?”

  Sullyan heard Robin’s uneasy shift. Ky-shan’s reply was crucial. She didn’t allow herself to react and saw Ky-shan’s eyes shift briefly from her own nonchalance to Vanyr’s insufferable righteousness. A nasty smile appeared on the pirate’s lips and she allowed herself to breathe.

  “My Lord, the … Commander was mistaken. There was no duel to decide who leads my men. I lead my men, as always. But Major Sullyan and I have come to an agreement, and we will take her orders on the field of battle.”

  Vanyr rounded on him. “What a pack of lies! Do you expect us to believe that you just let her walk in there and sweet-talk you into following her? We’re not all fools, you know! I saw you, and you weren’t holding a dignified discussion. What the hell were you doing if not fighting a duel?”

  Ky-shan frowned. “Fighting? We weren’t fighting. Oh, you must mean our little fencing session. Really, Vanyr, you could hardly call that a duel. I was simply showing the Major some of the more useful strokes we practice on the eastern seaboard. I thought she might find them interesting.”

  Robin coughed to cover a snort of laughter and Sullyan could barely control the quirk of her lips. Vanyr’s face was a picture of outrage, his ire heightened by Ky-shan’s lack of respect. He opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Anjer rose to his feet.

  “Enough! Commander, go about your duties, and in future, keep your attention on your men. Leave the senior officers to conduct their own affairs.”

  Vanyr reacted as if slapped. He stared at Anjer with his mouth open. Then he made a sullen salute and a noisy exit. Robin shuddered, and Sullyan knew he had also felt the malice emanating from the man.

  Dismissing his humiliated subordinate, Anjer turned to the pirate. “Ky-shan, I trust you and your men will follow the Major’s orders implicitly over the coming weeks? Your future here depends on it. I hope she has made you fully aware of this.”

  Ky-shan stared back. “My men will do as they’re told.” His rough respect had clearly departed with the vengeful Vanyr. “We don’t have any objection to officers who give sensible orders.”

  Anjer wisely decided not to prolong the interview. “Very well, Ky-shan, you may go.”

  Once the pirate’s heavy footfalls had faded, Anjer spread his hands toward Sullyan. “I’m sorry, Major, I should have trusted you. The Hierarch has told me the reasons that brought you here, and Ephan revealed what he knows of your reputation. I wouldn’t normally have taken Commander Vanyr at his word without consulting you, but these are troubled times. Dissention among our own I can do without.”

  “I understand, my Lord. Never fear, I will be taking Ky-shan’s band into the field at dawn tomorrow, so we will be out of the
Commander’s way.”

  “So soon? Tell me, Major, how did you manage to gain that ruffian’s respect so quickly?”

  She gave him a winning smile. “Ky-shan may have shown me some useful strokes, my Lord, but believe me, I know a few of my own.”

  He held up his hands. “I don’t think I want to hear any more! I’ve taken up quite enough of your time. You must have duties to attend to if you’re going out at dawn. Do you have the equipment you need? Good. There’ll be supply trains in the field. Their runners will be told to watch out for you. I wish you good hunting for tomorrow, Major. No doubt I will see you at supper tonight.”

  Back in their rooms, Sullyan immediately shed her clothes to relax in the huge bathing pool. Robin joined her, and they spent a pleasant hour indulging their love, not thinking of the future at all, immediate or longer term. Once they were spent, Robin laid back, Sullyan cradled in his arms.

  “Brynne?”

  She was almost asleep. “Mmm?”

  “How much of a risk was that little episode this afternoon?”

  She smiled into his chest. “Which episode in particular, Robin?”

  “I’m serious! I meant the duel, of course.”

  “What duel? You heard what Ky-shan said.”

  “Sullyan!”

  She sighed. “Oh, it was a fair risk, Robin. You know my opinion of dueling. What occurred this afternoon was not an example I wish you to follow, but I could think of no quicker way to gain their respect. There was no time to win them over. I knew Ky-shan would never admit to dueling with a woman, no matter who won, and I was fairly sure I could defeat him. I must confess, though, he had me worried once or twice.”

  “He had you worried? I nearly had a seizure when you slipped at the end.”

  She frowned. “I did not slip! Have you ever seen me lose my footing? No, love, it was a carefully calculated move to put him off balance. My only worry was wounding him too deeply. I did not want to put him out of action.”

  Robin stared down at her, not sure if she was being truthful. She returned his gaze and he changed the subject. “Alright then. What was all that ‘Tallimore’ stuff?”

  She smiled in memory. “Years ago—I was about nine, I think—I spent a whole summer exploring the east coast of Andaryon. It was easy to pass myself off as a boy, and as the ports were all teeming with strangers, no one took any notice of me. I was fascinated by the many vessels coming and going and soon found myself yearning to see what sailing was like. I offered myself as a cabin boy and was accepted on board the third ship I tried. By sheer chance, this vessel—a much racier craft than the heavy cargo ships, although at the time I had no idea why—turned out to be a free trader. By the time the captain discovered I was a girl we were too far out to put back into port, so he let me stay. He was pleased he did so, for I made myself useful. I used my senses to find the shoals of fish they trawled for—and they did fish, although fishing was not their most lucrative means of obtaining gold—and I also managed to warn them of a serious storm. The crew was convinced I was a storm-seer and did not want to part with me. They thought I was ‘lucky’, and I did not explain. Seamen are such a superstitious lot!

  “In the evenings, I entertained them with songs and also learned a few of theirs. The one they sang most was The Ballad of Tallimore. Tallimore is where seamen believe they go when they die, and it is found far across the mythical Triple Sea. To wish someone a ‘broad reach to Tallimore’ is to give a seaman’s blessing. I knew Ky-shan would recognize it and be curious.”

  She smiled up at him. “Come, love, pleasant though this is, we must dress for dinner. I do not want to be late.” Sliding her slender form out of his arms, she left the pool, water sheeting off her smooth, tawny skin.

  Their clothes were waiting, having been laid out by a servant. Pharikian had provided a gown for Sullyan. Made of pale lavender velvet, it caught the light attractively. It was plain and simple in design with a close-fitting bodice, a scooped neck, sleeves that clung to her arms, and a full skirt falling almost to the ground. She slid into it, liking its soft, warm feel. There was also a gold girdle which sat low on her hips, accentuating her flat belly. Once she had dressed, she partially braided her hair, leaving a long mass of it to flow down her back.

  Robin’s clothing was equally plain, yet elegant. Soft, black breeches with a white lawn shirt subtly trimmed with gold, and a black sleeveless tunic. Sullyan eyed him admiringly when he was dressed, and he smiled invitingly back.

  Ruefully she shook her head. “Come now, Robin, duty calls. There will be time for that later.”

  A servant appeared at the door to escort them. The Count, although clearly nervous, had dressed with care. A long mantle of maroon velvet was shown off by a black sleeveless tunic and white shirt and breeches.

  Sullyan smiled approvingly as he joined them in the corridor. “The ladies will be all over you tonight, Ty.”

  His melancholy expression lifted at her compliment and he fell into step beside them.

  On entering the small hall where the dinner was being held, they saw that most of the other guests had already arrived. Pharikian, who had been talking to Anjer and two ladies, was watching for their arrival and came to greet them immediately.

  “My dear Lady Brynne,” he said, loud enough for all to hear, “I’m so pleased you could attend.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips, then smiled conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “According to Anjer you’ve already made your mark in my service, child.”

  She curtsied deeply. “Just being practical, Majesty.”

  He chuckled as he went on to greet Robin, who managed a respectable, courtly bow. Marik was next, and he stuttered over his greeting, but Pharikian merely addressed him as ‘My dear Count,’ and acknowledged his reverential bow.

  As he ushered them further into the room, Pharikian led the introductions. Anjer stepped forward, his huge frame elegantly handsome in unrelieved black. His eyes found Sullyan’s in amusement. He presented his wife, the Lady Torien, who was a small, slim woman about Sullyan’s age. The Major eyed her, thinking she would be crushed beneath Anjer’s weight in bed. Yet Torien obviously adored her husband, and she gave Sullyan a friendly smile.

  Next was Ephan, dressed in a dark blue that emphasized his grey hair and white eyes. His lady was more his own age. Her name was Hollet, and she regarded Sullyan coolly, although her eyes rested easily on Robin. Gaslek stepped out from behind her and took Sullyan’s hand. He seemed to be unattached, and his fussy manner was absent in such relaxed company. Having greeted her, he touched Pharikian’s arm and they moved away, deep in conversation.

  General Kryp approached reluctantly, showing his unwillingness to greet Sullyan as an equal even in this informal setting. However, once his eyes had roved over her slender curves and more appropriate attire, his expression changed. Sullyan felt a shiver of discomfort. She preferred his hostility to this speculative stare. It reminded her too much of Rykan.

  Prodded into his duty by a light cough, Kryp introduced his lady. Falina was a woman of ample girth to match her husband’s, although her height was less than his. Her grey eyes were cold and she held out just her fingertips to Sullyan in a condescending fashion.

  Sullyan inclined her head. “Lady Falina.”

  “So you are Brynne Sullyan.” Falina looked down her nose and her voice was high and thin. “I barely recognized you out of those awful things you were wearing when we passed you in the Citadel.”

  Sullyan kept her tone pleasant. “Oh, were you there, Lady? I am afraid I did not notice you among the crowd.”

  Falina went pale and Sullyan saw Robin hide a smile. He knew very well that she had identified Falina as one of those simpering, gaudy peacocks who had sniggered behind her fan.

  Determined to score a point, Falina said, “Will you take some advice, my dear? That lavender velvet does your complexion no favors at all. You really ought to ask an expert to go through your wardrobe.”

  Sullyan smiled sweetly. �
��Do you think so, Lady? Then I must remember to pass your opinion on to his Majesty. He will have to discipline his chatelaine, since it was she who chose this gown.”

  Falina’s mouth closed with a snap. Kryp rescued her from further embarrassment by pulling her away to talk to Lady Hollet.

  So far all the guests had pointedly ignored Marik, despite the Hierarch’s greeting. He trailed disconsolately behind Sullyan and Robin as they moved farther into the room. They were about to find their seats when Pharikian approached them once more. On his arm was a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. Sullyan guessed immediately who she was by her resemblance to her father, and made her a deep obeisance.

  She heard Pharikian say, “Lady Brynne Sullyan, I would like you to meet my daughter, the Princess Idrimar.”

  As she rose, Sullyan studied Idrimar. The young woman was attractive in a pale sort of way, but she had a listless manner that wasn’t entirely healthy. She seemed friendly as she greeted them, but Sullyan thought she probably had a gloomy nature. Of course, she reflected, the woman had lost her twin sister at birth and her mother soon after. She was also unmarried, unusual enough for an Andaryan woman of her age, but virtually unheard of for a ruler’s daughter. It seemed she had every right to her sorrow.

  Despite her underlying sadness, Idrimar chatted easily with them and even included Marik, which clearly unsettled him. As the servants announced supper, Sullyan noticed Marik watching the Princess out of the corner of his eye. She hid a private smile.

  The meal passed pleasantly. Sullyan sat with Robin and enjoyed light conversation with Gaslek, Ephan, Anjer, and their ladies. She had been wondering where the Hierarch’s son was, but soon learned he was currently staying in Morvaigne, the province of Tikhal, Lord of the North. Tikhal was Pharikian’s premier noble, senior to Lord Rykan. As powerful as Rykan, Tikhal lacked the dark lord’s brutal ambition, having no desire to overturn the Hierarch’s rule. Should Rykan succeed in his challenge, Pharikian’s Heir would be Rykan’s next target, so the Prince had been sent to the safety of Tikhal’s mountain stronghold. He wouldn’t return until the war was over, when he would either congratulate his father or prepare to fight for his life.