Dancing on the Block

by Marina Barinova

“Oh, I have lots of epithets, each worse than the next,” she replied sweetly. “Artanna the Traitor, Artanna Two Blades, Artanna the Highligland Whore, and lately I even picked up Artanna Arrowbutt. You can use whichever you like, Lord Ekkehard.”

  Picking up on Gregor’s displeased glance, Rainer clucked his tongue and turned away. The duke continued when he was sure he had everyone’s attention again.

  “I’ll let you all know that the Hundred troops from Givoi are in Ellisdor at my personal invitation.” Gregor’s gaze settled on the Ekkehards. “Additionally, Lady Artanna is to be counted among my advisors beginning today, and therefore you and your people will give her the respect that status deserves. Is that clear?”

  Everyone agreed grudgingly. Artanna’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she kept her questions to herself.

  “In that case, that’s all for today,” the duke sad. The advisors started getting up, filling the air in the small hall with the sound of chairs pushed across the floor. “Artanna, Aldor, please stay. There’s something we need to discuss.”

  When the hall was empty, Artanna stretched and cracked her knuckles.

  “The perfect time for you to tell me what you’re up to,” she said.

  Gregor tossed a log onto the fire and crouched in front of it.

  “As you’re no doubt already aware, after the death of the emperor, I announced my right to the throne. Unfortunately, my trip to the capital was fruitless.”

  The Vagran shook her head.

  “Let’s start from the beginning, Gregor. I couldn’t be further from high politics, and all the little things I have going on in Givoi can’t compare to your imperial scale.”

  “But you know Emperor Margius died without leaving an heir, yes?”

  “Okay, not that far away.”

  “There are two contenders for the throne: Demos of House Devaton and me. We’re both nephews of the dead emperor. The law says that the Small Council should select the best candidate in cases like this, though the complication here is that I’m a relative on the female side. There’s no precedent for this given that the Tallonids have always left heirs.”

  “Okay, and?”

  Gregor’s expression darkened.

  “That’s it for now. The Small Council assigned the justices and clergy with the job of going through all the papers that could serve as proof of the legality of my claim. They’ll let me know when they have something, but that’s as far as it got.”

  “All right,” Artanna replied with a nod. “And what’s your plan now?”

  The duke shrugged hesitantly.

  “I’m back home, taking care of Irital. What…what’s wrong?”

  Artanna shook with noiseless mirth. Flushing deep red, Gregor fell silent, while Aldor’s gaze shot back and forth between the Vagran and the duke. A look of embarrassment and fear was plastered on his face. After wiping tears from her eyes, and still in the grip of merriment, the Vagran started talking.

  “Am I correct in understanding that you appeared in Missolen and told everyone who would listen about your right to the throne, marking yourself as a threat to the normal way of life in the empire and the aristocrats looking to crown their own candidate?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And then you just up and left? You’re letting the Small Council do whatever they want!” Artanna practically shouted. “Screw you with a pepper, Gregor! You should have left someone in Missolen to keep an eye on things.”

  The duke looked confused and embarrassed.

  “But the great master—”

  “To hell with the great master! I wouldn’t pay a copper coin for his flapping tongue.”

  “Careful, Artanna,” Gregor said.

  The Vagran was taken aback.

  “Sorry. I get it—you were raised and grew up in the Order,” she continued, her voice gentler. “You still follow the Way, you worship the Keeper, and you follow Gillenai’s precepts. But Gregor, do I really have to tell you that the clergy are still people, and they often forget about their god when they climb high enough and gain enough power? They wanted to forget the orders and dogma, believe me. Different concerns are more important to them, now. More earthly ones. Do you know how many masters visit the brothels in Givoi? All of them! Each and every one! Sooner or later, good intentions are put to rest—you can always find someone who thinks himself more worthy than everyone else, more equal than equal, and then you realize they’ve built an entire hierarchy hidden behind their beautiful words. But what about the simple people? Are they supposed to save their souls by handing over a tenth of their monthly earnings just because that’s what the priests want? If I remember correctly, the Keeper didn’t hang a list of sins and their fees on the doors of the Shrines. And so, I can be positive that your great master will come up with the solution that benefits him alone, and that he’ll do it with a heart beating as calmly as ever. Not the one that benefits you, not the other contenders for the throne; him and his people alone. That’s, of course, if he’s influential enough to act on his own, and not at someone else’s order.”

  “No,” Voldhard replied, shaking his head. “It can’t be like that…”

  Artanna shook the duke by the shoulders.

  “Damn demons, you’re so blind! Open your eyes, Gregor!” she burst out. “If everything you said is true, you aren’t just rolling around in shit; you’re about to drown in an ocean of it! You were swindled and gotten rid of, and you’re only too happy to march to the beat of their drum.”

  Voldhard pulled himself irritably away from the Vagran’s grip.

  “There’s some truth to what Artanna’s saying,” Aldor said quietly. “The church has property, lands, its own bank, trade relations… It stopped being what we think of it as a long time ago. And commotion doesn’t make it money. The great master can’t help but get involved in the dirty games the elite play in the capital, and they might even have some sort of influence over him. Eclusum is in Missolen, after all…”

  “Have you even once in your life put on some simple clothes and headed into the backwoods to see how your subjects live?” the mercenary asked right next to Gregor’s ear. “You should try that more often.”

  The duke paced the hall nervously.

  “You think I’m isolated from real life? That I just exist in my own little world?”

  The Hundred leader shrugged.

  “Judging by how you talk, yes.”

  “Okay, we’ll give that a try,” Voldhard replied. “I’ll go see what life is like in my lands in the very near future. Would you care to join me?”

  “I won’t see anything new, of course, but I’ll be happy to. I need some reason for being here in Ellisdor. By the way, speaking of which, now’s as good a time as any to tell me what your plans are for the Hundred. My fighters get stupid when there’s nothing for them to do.”

  “You know what happened with the ambassador from Latandal.”

  “I heard.”

  “I don’t know why, but I have a feeling I know who did it. The ambassador was poisoned with an Ennian substance, and my cousin Demos is half-Ennian. We have some people sitting in the dark who may have been part of the plot, but they don’t want to talk. Do you have anyone who might loosen their tongues?”

  “I’ll have to think about that,” Artanna replied with a nod. “What else?”

  “I want your people to join the guardsmen standing watch over Irital. The two groups can keep an eye on each other and let us know if anything suspicious happens. Also, I’ll need your scouts—they say your old friend Nood Steelhead is making trouble on the border again. Make sure all your people are here, and there will definitely be plenty of work for them.”

  “They can’t all come. I have a contract with the viceroy of Givoi, and you may not know it, but there’s some shit going down there, too. But I promise I’ll bring the more able-bodied ones. Also, remember that I swore to Rolf Voldhard that I’d offer all the help I could to his descendants, though there was nothing about doing it
for free.”

  Gregor gave her a dismissive wave.

  “Haltsel will take care of that.”

  “Got it. All right, let’s see if we can extract some information about the poisoner. What then?”

  “It’s too early for that. Get the prisoners talking first.”

  “I do have one idea for how we can make that happened.” Artanna stepped closer to the duke and peered into his rage-darkened eyes. “Hey, are you really prepared to fight for the crown? Go to war, spill the blood of your soldiers and innocent people?”

  Gregor looked away and frowned.

  “I wasn’t until they came after Irital and Aldor. Now I don’t know. I do want to find and kill whoever almost took Irital away from me.”

  “They aren’t Runds in Missolen, and it won’t be the kind of war you’re used to.”

  “The worse for Missolen,” Gregor shot back. “The imperials call us barbarians, and maybe they’re right. Are you with me?”

  Artanna touched his eyes with the cool tips of her fingers.

  “You’re still young, Gregor. Fiery and passionate. But you do need to understand that that isn’t an excuse. Why should I fight in someone else’s war? I fought for your father, and he let me go a long time ago, so why should I jump right back into danger like that?”

  “For the money. You’re a mercenary, after all.”

  The Hundred leader laughed.

  “Do you have that much cash, boy? The battle could take years—this isn’t a seasonal march into the Disputed Lands.”

  “You’ll get enough to buy the whole of Givoi.”

  “It just about belongs to me already.”

  “In that case, I’ll give you even more. If you stick with me to the end, you’ll win power and a title. A barony, a county, a fortune… Whatever you want.”

  The mercenary turned away and ran her bony fingers over the brown spines of the books on a shelf.

  “Why me, Gregor? Why, after everything that happened here, after the battle, after Lotar died and what happened after that, why do you want me next to you?”

  Voldhard went over to Artanna, pulled her around, and grabbed her arm.

  “Because Lotar made his choice on his own and paid for it. He couldn’t leave the Ekkehards alone with the Runds to pay for their audacity and defiance of direct orders, he threw his troops into a suicide attack, and he decided their fate. You did everything you could. And you’re the only honest mercenary I know. It doesn’t matter to me that people here think you’re a traitor—I was on the field that day, and I saw the truth with my own eyes. I know the truth, and it isn’t those drunken fables!” Voldhard’s voice rose to a yell as he shook the woman’s shoulders. “I saw how they didn’t wait for your squad. I remember how that didn’t stop you, that you jumped in and tried to save Lotar knowing you were risking your life. But you did it anyway. And what amazed me most was that after everything, after your imprisonment, you found the strength to promise my father you’d come to my aid. You know what duty means, Artanna, and that’s why I believe in you.”

  “That’s a lot of trust for little old me, and all for one bit of stupidity,” the Vagran replied with a dark smile as she tried to hold back the tears. “Would you mind not holding me so tightly?”

  The duke let Artanna’s arm go suddenly.

  “You want to know why you? In all the time I knew you, you never once gave my father reason to doubt your loyalty.”

  The Vagran rubbed the feeling back into her arm and looked up at the duke.

  “If you’re reduced to trusting mercenaries and foreigners, you really are up to your ears in shit, my boy.”

  ***

  Jert wasn’t to be found in the barracks or in the mess hall. He wasn’t in the stable. Leaving the blacksmith after coming up empty there, too, Artanna cursed and yelled over at Shrain, who was bent over sharpening a dagger.

  “Baby, where’s Copper?”

  “He was just around here, I thought,” the hulk called back without looking up.

  “Oh, screw him.” Artanna threw up her arms and headed toward the sheds.

  For whatever reason, Jert bugged her. The Ennian was forward, a pain, and overly talkative, though he was useful, and that was the only reason Artanna put up with him. You can forgive a good fighter for a lot when he’s good for something.

  Looking around, Artanna crossed the inner courtyard, walked around the residential buildings, and stepped into the back entrance to the storerooms and kitchens. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. The Vagran lowered her eyelids, stood still, and started carefully forward once she could make out the outlines of the objects surrounding her. Barrels, boxes, and sacks stood out in the light filtering through the tiny barred windows. Near one of the doors, she stopped and listened to the sounds coming from the other side of it. She slowly and gently pushed it open, careful not to make any noise, and slipped inside.

  Chaos reigned in the closet with its dim window light—empty boxes, bundles of straw, and rows of pots were littered around the floor and on the shelves. Half-rotten rags were everywhere. And in the middle of it all, in the shadow cast by a large, sagging cupboard, was a tall, well-built man leaning on a wobbling table and making heated love to a slight, golden-haired girl. A dark hand was placed roughly over her mouth to keep her from crying out. After pausing for a second, the man straightened up, and Artanna recognized him.

  “Damn it, Jert! With a Latanian? Next, you’re going to find yourself a baroness!”

  The lovers froze. The girl screeched shortly and jumped away.

  “Get out of here!” Artanna barked at her. “And keep your mouth shut. Wag your tongue, and I’ll chop it right out of your mouth.”

  The golden-haired girl ducked behind the Ennian, quickly threw on her dress, and dashed out of the room, doing her best to cover her face.

  “Hey there, Commander!” the Ennian said with a broad smile. “I didn’t think this was what you meant when you said you were going to keep an eye on me. Want to jump in?”

  “Maybe I should drop you down a well to cool off that head of yours, you dog.” After making sure the girl was out of earshot, Artanna closed the door to the room firmly.

  “Ah, come on, Commander. Even you need to blow off steam every once in a while, and I don’t mind.”

  “I’ve heard Ennians tend to be awfully unimpressive down there, and I need you for something else, Copper.”

  “Seeing as how you scared off my woman, I’m going to have to relax some other way.” The Ennian sighed mournfully and started pacing the room, white buttocks on full display.

  Artanna nudged his pants, which were lying on the floor, with the toe of her boot.

  “Cover your shame if you don’t mind.”

  “Prude. Never seen a naked butt before?”

  “Yours is laughable, and I’m not up for jokes right now.”

  Copper chuckled and started getting dressed.

  “So, what did you need me for so badly that you went looking for me here?”

  “How are Ennian mercenaries with torturing people?”

  An impertinent smile immediately swept over Jert’s face.

  “Just wondering?”

  “Yes, I was just musing about that during my morning prayers,” the Vagran shot back in annoyance. “A very important person in the castle was poisoned almost to death. They have four suspects, but none of them are talking. Our job is to get them to open up.”

  “And why me? Where’s the vaunted Vagran clemency and all the other cute little ways you have for chatting with people?”

  “Do you know anything about Drinna’s Blessing?”

  Copper froze and glanced at the Hundred leader in surprise.

  “It’s a strong Ennian poison the aristocrats in my country are fond of. So, you’re telling me…”

  “Excellent, you’re aware. The ambassador from Latandal was poisoned with that crap, though she turned out to be tough enough to survive.”

  “Oh, that’s
what you’re talking about. Yes, I heard about what happened to her—that golden nymph told me a thing or two. See? She could have been useful, and you threw her out. But the Ennian poison… She didn’t tell me about that.”

  The Hundred leader walked around the room, kicking up dust.

  “Now can you see why I came to you? It makes sense to have someone running the interrogation who’s informed and can discuss what’s going on. There’ll be additional payment—the duke is generous.”

  “You surprise me more every day, Commander.” The carefree look back on his face, Jert pulled his shoes on. “I hope the fun will be worth the blue balls you gave me. Incidentally, I’d never been with a Latanian, and I started working on her the moment we stepped foot in the castle. Thanks for ruining a dream!”

  “So, will you do it?”

  “I haven’t had anything like that in a while,” Jert replied. “And you’ve been such a pain here today that I wouldn’t mind cutting you up, not to mention the prisoners.”

  “There we go,” Artanna grinned. “It turns out, it is possible to get under your skin.”

  Copper gave the Vagran a withering glance.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that, Commander. I really wouldn’t.”

  Chapter 26. Missolen

  “You’re late,” Lady Eltinia hissed angrily. “Where were you? And you look like a commoner. Why aren’t you wearing the doublet I sent you?”

  The dowager duchess grabbed her son by the arm and marched him to the center of the enormous ballroom. She looked dazzlingly elegant.

  “I’m the damn imperial treasurer. You think I have time to think about what I’m wearing?” Demos whispered, still smiling at the guests.

  If you only knew the trip I just had to take.

  “The older you are, the more obnoxious you get.”

  “I could tell you the same thing.”

  Family values. Adorable.

  “You could think about forgetting your pointless bravado and greet the guests for once,” his mother snapped back.

  Demos used the remains of his composure to smile politely at his mother.

  When father died, rumors rippled around the palace about mother having something to do with his untimely demise, that she availed herself of the services offered by some Ennian poisoners. I would have drunk the stuff willingly if I’d been in his shoes. She’s unbearable.