“You’ll be asleep when I come home, so let me give you your good night kiss now,” she said.
“I won’t be asleep!” Peri protested. “Tell me all about it when you get home.”
“We’ll see.” Smiling, she pushed him gently out of her room.
When he was gone, she made a last adjustment to her rank insignia and sighed. A whole evening would be wasted when she could be doing something useful. Tonight was the yearly Guard Festival and Awards. Every City Guard, King’s Guard, and Naval Guard member would be there, except those required to be on duty or patrols. Even Betarr Kain City Guard might attend.
Today was Honorday and, by tomorrow, an eight-day would have passed since the murder of Councilman Reggis. The interviews with the people in the shops around Taalo’s laboratory revealed that the apothecary had an apprentice. Unfortunately, no one had a name or lineage, only a description of a lanky male about seventeen years old.
Miina had the unpleasant duty of contacting every registered Tyrran matriarch to track down the Taalo’s assistant, as well as trying to determine the apothecary’s background. According to the interviews so far, Taalo portrayed himself as nunetton when he rented the shop from the Isan-Kolme—for much higher fees than he’d pay if he were attached to a lineage. They doubted he was missing entirely from matriarchal records, since he appeared to be “upper-city” educated. There was a chance a matriarch might remember him or, at least, remember paying for his education. Surprisingly, Miina approached this tedious work with good humor.
Draius exerted more pressure on the Purje-Kolme by petitioning the matriarch for Vanhus’ business records. She wasn’t following Anja’s advice by keeping a low profile and she wondered when the matriarchs would blacklist her for being so impudent, but at least she had gotten results. For most of the day, she sat with papers and records collected for all three victims, trying to connect them. Each victim socialized in different circles and she couldn’t tie Taalo to any of them. Worse, the apothecary still couldn’t be found, even though the Pettaja clerks had managed to establish his habits: Taalo displayed interest in recently published scientific papers, as well as attending lectures promoted by the Royal Academy of Science. He also frequented certain bookbinders for the specially made paper he used in his chemistry experiments.
After fruitless hours in the office, Draius went to exercise Chisel in the stable ring. At least the fresh air helped clear her mind before she had to wash and dress for this evening’s festivities.
“Draius, I’ll have Cerin prepare the carriage and drive you.” Anja called from the foot of the stairs.
“No thanks, I’ll walk.”
There had been a short but strong downpour after she left the stables, and the temperatures suddenly warmed. The streets were wet, and the evening was mild and sweet with early spring flowers. The Great Hall was only twelve blocks away and she would have a pleasant walk.
She entered the main square from the south, facing the Great Hall, and paused to admire the festival lights. Colored glass globes with candles were placed on ledges about the square, and light poured out of the tall, narrow windows of the Great Hall. The light reflected in puddles about the square. Laughter, punctuated with shouts, came through the open doors of the building.
As she approached the doors, a figure in green and gold pushed away from a pillar and came lightly down the stairs to meet her. It was easy to recognize the graceful movement and the coiled energy in each step.
“I suspected you’d be attending this alone,” Lornis said. “You look too good tonight, you should have a protective companion.” His hair was also unbraided and unbound. The shining mane swirled as he saluted and took her unresisting arm.
“As if I need protecting!” Draius laughed, feeling absurdly exhilarated. She didn’t pull her arm away as they walked up the stairs. There would be no talk of death threats or magical charms tonight. “The only thing I’ll need protection from tonight will be boredom.”
“I am at your service, even for that.” Lornis spoke gravely, although his eyes danced. They walked through the large doors together.
Noise and light clashed about the hall, almost making her head hurt. The City Guard dress uniforms were flashy, but the green and silver of the Betarr Serin Guard totally overwhelmed them. Here and there she spotted a blue uniform with gold braid on Betarr Kain City Guard. People in uniforms milled about the long tables, as friends greeted each other and searched for just the right seats. Barrels of lager and wine were stacked against the wall as busy barkeeps served drinks from the counter and kept the servers circulating with beverages for the tables.
Across several long tables, she saw Jan talking with Netta, apparently having a serious discussion. Netta’s dark hair, such a contrast to her husband’s, shone in the lamplight as she shook her head. She looked away, and her brown eyes accidentally met Draius’s gaze across the room. For a moment, Netta and Draius measured each other. Then the woman looked down and Draius realized she’d been holding her breath. Jan moved away, apparently finished with the discussion. Looking about, Draius suspected that Netta hadn’t brought her spouse, even though her Vakuutis-Nelja contract supposedly remained strong.
A watchman began beating a gong, signaling everyone to get to his or her seat and quiet down. Up on the dais sat Captain Rhaffus, as captain of the Betarr Serasa City Guard, looking uncomfortable in his position to the left of King Perinon. On the King’s right sat the master of arms, Meran-Kolme Sevoi, resplendent in his silver and green uniform. On the other side of the master of arms was the captain of the King’s Guard, as well as the captain of the Betarr Kain City Guard in his dress blue and gold.
Draius noted the absence of any Phrenii. So this would be a purely mortal affair. Besides, what harm could come to the King as he sat with practically every Guard member in the sister cities?
The dais wasn’t crowded. Only the master of arms had his spouse sitting with him. Two of the captains were widowers and apparently planned to stay that way. No young woman had been selected to escort the King, opening up endless speculation. There were other noticeable vacancies on the dais: the captain of the Naval Guard and the harbor master usually attended, but they weren’t here tonight.
Draius and Lornis found seats toward the back end of the long center table. Near the front of the same table, Jan took a seat next to his commander, the OIC of City Defense. She watched Jan smile politely and engage in conversation with his commander’s spouse. Since Erik’s fall from favor, he’d quickly cultivated other useful and politic friendships.
Draius and Lornis were sitting with a mixed compliment of King and City Guard. Across the table sat Bordas, the commander of the last border patrol she had been assigned to. The conversation was kept light, staying away from the threatening political situation: in response to Groygan military and naval build-up, the King’s Council had increased import taxes yet again on Groygan goods. Tyrra now waited for the Groygan response.
She looked about at the crowd. The King’s Guard executed military actions while the City Guard maintained defenses within Tyrra and provided the King’s Guard with supplemental forces. Her throat tightened as she thought of the possibility of friends leaving and dying.
At her table, speculation started regarding the marked absence of any Naval Guard.
“Supposedly three ships of the line have left harbor within the past two days. Perhaps they’re doing something about the piracy,” Lornis said.
“Maybe they’re training,” someone suggested.
“It’s best we mind our own business,” Bordas said. That seemed to be the byword for the evening as everyone dug into dinner.
The food was simple but plentiful. Roasted pig was the main course, supplemented with heavy egg noodles, the Tyrran mainstay, and early spring vegetables mixed with last year’s potatoes. Platters of candied and dried fruit were set on all the tables. No fresh fruits were yet available, other than what could be imported from warmer climates such as Sareen.
&nb
sp; After most had been served their dinner, the program started. A watchman would beat the gong for silence, and an award or gift would be presented while the recipient (and often the presenter) stood red faced on the dais and shuffled his or her feet. The first awards were mostly fun and farce, such as the toy sword presented to a watchman who pursued a pickpocket with his sword drawn and tripped, breaking his weapon and his wrist. The man waved the small wooden sword with his splinted arm as he made his way back to his seat, where he and his comrades immediately precipitated a toast.
By the second break, Draius was weary of the noise and could not have stuffed another bite of food past her lips. Even imbibing conservatively with each toast, the evening was beginning to blur and feel like a ritual of endurance. The part she always dreaded was beginning: the serious awards. These were the career-advancing awards, prized by ambitious officers.
“Want to step outside for some fresh air?” Lornis asked.
She jumped up at his suggestion. They walked onto the back terrace that overlooked the public gardens behind the Great Hall. Others were trying to get some respite from the warm hall or, like her, trying to clear the wine from their heads. She and Lornis leaned on the stone balustrade, taking deep breaths of cool air.
“I’d trade this for all the wine inside the hall,” she said in a low voice.
Lornis nodded.
“Fine spring evening, isn’t it, Draius?” said a voice behind her.
She turned to face Jan. “Yes, a fine evening.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Lieutenant. I’d like to speak with my wife.”
Lornis nodded, but she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. He backed away only as far as propriety demanded, still within earshot.
“What do you want?” she asked. Jan was waiting for Lornis to leave and that didn’t seem to be happening. Given the wine she’d had, she didn’t care who overheard their conversation.
“I’ve heard our contract is now the subject of discussion with the Meran-Viisi.” Jan might have heard this from Anja, but Draius didn’t think the matriarch would have confided in him. Had Maricie or Cerin listened at the door?
“I wouldn’t say they’re interested in our contract as much as they’re interested in Peri.”
“Yes, Peri is who we must consider. My son—who will stay Serasa-Kolme, even if they’ve re-used your cousin’s name. On my Honor, I’ll provide for him myself before I let the Meran-Viisi have him.”
Picturing Jan with Netta, she released an explosive snort of laughter. “You? You’re swearing an oath on your honor? You can’t keep a contract, much less an oath!” She heard her words and her derisive tone, as if from a distance. It was too late to stop. The words were out of her mouth, and everyone around them went still.
Duels had been fought for such an insult. Now her mind filled with a glimpse of the H&H headline: First Husband-Wife Duel Fought in the City Guard! For a moment, her thoughts followed that bumpy road. She was good with the saber, but Jan had a better reach. The absurdity of the situation she’d precipitated made her hold back an uncharacteristic giggle of hysteria. I’ve had too much wine. I shouldn’t be talking with Jan right now, much less insulting his honor.
Jan made an abrupt gesture with his hands, and through the corner of her eye, Draius saw Lornis make a small movement. Without thinking, her hand went to the Guard on the hilt of her ceremonial saber. Its sole purpose was dueling, after all.
“This is ridiculous, Draius. Keep your voice down.” Jan lowered his own voice and held out his hands, palms up.
Draius took deep breaths, calming herself and building the wall up again, the wall that kept her feelings from overwhelming her. “I might be over-reacting, but so are you. I couldn’t turn Peri over to the Meran-Viisi. It’s not my decision to make and you know that. Why so much concern about this now?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about my son. Do you intend to sever Peri from the Serasa-Kolme, keep him from his cousins, his schoolmaster? How can you maintain the manner of his life without our resources?”
“You’re being absurd. There’s no question about Peri’s support or education.” Her jaw clenched. She and Jan were accustomed to a very comfortable life and they didn’t pay for Peri’s education. Traditionally, lineal assets funded the schooling of Tyrran children and supplemented their living expenses. Even if one lost their blood parents, no Tyrran child worried for their livelihood. Unless one was nunetton…
“What have you done, Jan?” Her tone was sharp. Had he cultivated Peri’s fears, building up a nightmare of losing name, livelihood, and future?
“Nothing.” His smile was angelic, but she saw the menace behind it. “Just remember that you may not always have the Meran-Viisi to fall back upon.”
Perhaps Jan did know about yesterday’s conversation with the matriarchs, because Draius might really have burned all her bridges with Aracia. If she had to petition the Meran-Viisi for Peri’s education, she had no doubt Aracia would be harsh. The matriarch would require humility, perhaps even groveling, and she’d expect absolute obedience.
“I’m asking you again to withdraw your complaint,” said Jan in a low voice. “You and Peri need me. One dalliance, one mistake, shouldn’t cause our contract to collapse.”
Why did he continue to lie to her? There had been many more than one dalliance; perhaps he thought the more he said the lie, the more likely she’d accept it.
The gong was beating insistently, calling them back to their seats.
“I’ll think about it.” Her tongue felt so thick and sluggish, she could barely get the words out. She turned away from Jan, trying to move decisively, but feeling sick to her stomach.
Inside the hall, Draius pushed her way quickly to the table and began to make apologies to her table-mates. “I’m feeling ill, so I’m going home early,” she was saying to Bordas when Lornis caught up. She felt him standing close behind her. It was almost midnight, so “early” was relative.
“Are you well enough to get home?” Bordas stood as if he would escort her home on the spot.
“No, I’ll be fine—“
“I’ll escort her,” Lornis cut in, with authority.
She pressed her lips together but said nothing, wanting to be out of the hall as fast as possible. Bordas’s eyes flitted from her face to Lornis, and back again.
“We can get you a carriage,” Bordas said.
“I’d rather walk, I—I think it’s the wine.”
Bordas and the others finally bid her goodnight. Outside, Draius wrapped her cloak tightly around her, irritated. “I didn’t ask you to escort me!”
“No, but you don’t seem yourself,” Lornis said.
She moved away from him and walked quickly through the square with her long strides. He hurried to catch up. “Look, Draius, don’t punish me because I’m offering you support and friendship.”
They had left the square and were walking down Cen Sali Street, which ran parallel to South Dock Way and the river. She slowed down. “If you think you can help me, you’re wrong. I’m trapped in a situation of my own making.”
“How can you say that you’re trapped?” He sounded exasperated. “This isn’t Groyga, where women wear chains of ownership and are confined to their houses. You have plenty of options, not to mention two matriarchs willing to support you.”
“Too bad I can’t just stand on my own,” she said bitterly.
“Everyone needs family. The matriarchs ensure the basic needs of life are supplied, and more. It’s the Tyrran way.”
Yes, it was. She often forgot that, because her father had taken steps to isolate the both of them from the Meran-Viisi after the Fevers. Her father didn’t like to depend upon matriarchs, but he didn’t leave her the means to be independent, did he? Then there was Jan. For some reason, he made her feel so helpless, so uncertain. She had to admit she was afraid of him; she knew his vindictiveness. Her biggest fear was he’d wound Peri in an effort to hurt her. And it’d work.
Her best defense was
to push the decisions on to someone else. “Lady Anja will find a way to work things out.”
Lornis grabbed her arm and jerked her around. They faced each other in the middle of the deserted street. He grabbed both her shoulders tightly and she couldn’t move. He was much stronger than she expected. “How can you be so competent in your work, yet so completely helpless in your personal life? From what I’ve heard, you haven’t had a marriage for years!”
She was surprised by his vehemence. “Who told you that? Berin?”
“All you two have left is your contract, which is pretty obvious to anyone. Berin says you’ve been stagnating for erins. He thinks your matriarch would support whatever decision you make, if you’d only make one!”
She pulled away. “Isn’t that the Tyrran way? To let your matriarch decide? And, for your information, I’ve made a written complaint but I have to stop there. I can’t be the one responsible for ending our contract.”
Lornis could never understand her relationship with Jan. For a moment, Draius longed to tell him about the dirty, little secrets that she kept for all these years. She wanted to trust him, anyone…
“Are you afraid of Jan? Do you fear you’ll be separated from Peri? You should talk to Lady Anja about Peri’s future. Perhaps she’ll make him favored.” He was referring to the common practice of matriarchs raising promising children, taking direct control and calling them “favored grandchildren.”
Now he presumed too much.
“By what right do you give me advice about my son? Why are you so interested in my affairs?”
At her venomous tone, he stepped back with surprise.
“Why don’t we examine your life? How does a Kulte-Kolme from the plains suddenly become a Betarr Serasa Guard officer, without going through the appropriate training?”
The muscles of his jaw clenched and he didn’t answer.
A Charm for Draius: A Novel of the Broken Kaskea (The Broken Kaskea Series Book 1) Page 19
