by Gaie Sebold
“Do you know where your rooms are?” I said.
“Oh, yes. Though I think I shall walk about a little first.” The rain had turned the hair around his face to rat’s tails; they shivered, shedding droplets.
“Mokraine, are you feeling all right?”
The lines either side of his mouth deepened. “No.”
“Can I help?”
He managed a smile that looked hard-won. “Your particular comforts are not for me, Babylon.”
“I didn’t mean that. Unless it would help.”
“I don’t think so, but thank you.” He raised a hand, then turned away, the familiar at his heels.
I went back to the rooms to check in with Rikkinnet. She was wearing a beautifully embroidered green and gold tunic and trousers, very smartly cut. She tugged at the high collar.
“Very smart,” I said.
“For the ball. Is too tight. I am strangulating.”
“You look magnificent. Very ambassadorial.”
She shrugged. “To the Gudain, I will just be a jumped-up Ikinchli in pretty clothes.”
“And what will you be to Rikkinnet?”
She gave a smile which was mostly teeth. “Sometimes also Rikkinnet feels like a jumped-up Ikinchli in pretty clothes.”
“If it’s any comfort, you’ll look better than any of the Gudain.”
“So? Is true anyway.”
I had to laugh. “How’s Enthemmerlee doing?”
“Okay. She is nervous, but hold up good. You?” She looked me up and down.
“As I can get.” I was in my usual kit: toughened leather breast and backplate, bracers, greaves. A little decoration, nothing that stuck out to catch a blade. Over leather trousers and a silk shirt. I’d left it hanging on the bedpost, hoping the creases would drop, only to discover someone had come in and pressed it. Which was helpful, but a little unnerving. I’m out of the habit of being served.
“No, is good,” she said. “Anyone want to make trouble, you make them think twice.”
There was a knock on the door. I opened it to see Scholar Bergast. “Yes?”
“I heard...” He swallowed and glanced up and down the corridor as though he expected something to leap out at him. “It can’t be true... Adept Mokraine arrived last night?”
“Yes.”
“But what... I mean... Adept Mokraine? Is here? Who sent him?”
“Sent him? No one sends Mokraine anywhere. He just turned up.”
“But why?”
“He’s not sure.”
“What do you mean, he isn’t sure?”
“What I said. He said something drew him here.”
“Who,” Rikkinnet said, somewhat sharply, “is this Mokraine?”
In all the confusion I’d kind of forgotten to let her know. So then I had to explain. And then I had to explain some more.
Bergast listened, but kept shaking his head, as though he wasn’t convinced by what he was hearing. Well, he’d meet Mokraine for himself eventually. “I have to go,” he muttered, and skittered off towards his room as though his bowels were troubling him.
Rikkinnet looked less than pleased. Female Ikinchli have no crests, but her tail was twitching. “But why is he here?” she said. “I do not like this. You say he is, or was, a most powerful warlock. He is not in his right mind. This is not a good situation, no?”
“Believe me,” I said, “I’m aware of that. But he’s not interested in the things that interest other people, Rikkinnet. Politics and such just don’t seem to enter his head. Besides, he’s already been useful today. Look, trust me, he doesn’t want to cause her any upset. Which is odd in itself, that that should even bother him, but there. I think you can believe he has no intention of harming her.”
“I hope you are right,” she said, glaring in the direction that Bergast had disappeared. “Her magical defender, he seems as much use as a holed net.”
“Well, he was chosen by the Section... hmm. Yes. We’ll just have to hope, won’t we? Right now the main thing I’m worried about are those guards. They let Mokraine walk right in. I think I’m going to have to have a word.”
“Good,” Rikkinnet said. “I should like to come watch.”
“Well, one of us should stay with Enthemmerlee. But can we get to talk to that cousin of yours? Insh... er.”
“Inshinnik? You want him brought here before tomorrow?”
“Can you organise it?”
“For when?”
“As soon as possible. An hour?”
“Yes, I think.”
DENTOR, HIS RUFF soiled, his hems coming down and his buttons dull with tarnish, was sitting surrounded by similarly scruffy cronies, telling a joke in which the word ‘scaly’ figured a lot.
The Ikinchli were studiously ignoring his little performance, though I could see a number of raised crests.
I walked over to them. “You’re Dentor, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I would like,” I said, “a word. With you. In private.”
Anywhere else, that sort of approach would have led to all sorts of comments. But this was Incandress, among the Gudain. Not a joke, not a nudge; though I heard one of the Ikinchli say something that contained several words I recognised. You must think I have no taste.
“Why?” Dentor said.
I let my eyes travel to the snake around his arm. “Scarlet angel, am I right? Deadliest snake on Incandress.”
“S’right.”
“Kill you in an instant if you didn’t know how to handle it.”
“Yeah.”
“Man like you, can handle a scarlet angel, you got nothing to worry about having a few private words with me, now have you?”
He stuck his lower lip out like a pouting baby, and glanced around at his cronies, who were hanging on every word.
Dentor shrugged, and got up. “Come on, then.”
I followed him out of the room, round to the back. “What d’you want?” he said, gracious as ever, running his snake-free hand through his hedgehog hair.
“Captain or no captain, I get the impression you’re the one they follow, am I right? You’ve got influence.”
He stuck his chest out. “Yeah, I do. I talk, they listen. Captain don’t have a problem with it.”
The captain, I thought, either hadn’t noticed the way his guard was looking or had decided to ignore it until forced to do otherwise.
“Now, I noticed something in there. The Ikinchli, they look like they’re going on parade; shined up to the last button. You boys... Well. Not so much. So, you want to tell me what that’s about?”
“They want to get all in a lather for some scaly superstition, that’s up to them, ain’t it? Me and my crew, we don’t put stock in that stuff. And anyway, you can’t make a scaly look like a guard, don’t matter what you dress ’em in.”
“You don’t think people might get the impression that maybe they’re, I dunno, better disciplined, better guards, than you Gudain?”
“What, them? Don’t make me laugh.”
“And you don’t think it might be seen as showing disrespect to the family?”
“The master’s head of the family, no one else. He seen us, just this morning, and he didn’t say nothing. Nor’d the captain. Seems like we look plenty smart enough for him.”
Right, tact wasn’t going to work. I leaned over him, close enough that he had to lean back to meet my eye.
“I want you to smarten up, soldier. Your boots are filthy, your uniform’s disgusting, and you look like you’ve forgotten how to stand up straight. You’re a disgrace. So sharpen the hell up and tell your friends to do likewise.”
“Or what?” he said, grinning. “You ain’t my captain, you can’t tell me what to do.”
I reached my hand out to the snake and it reared up, flickering its tongue at me. Fervently hoping I’d interpreted Mokraine correctly, I stroked its head with one finger. It hissed, but didn’t bite. Yet.
“Or... your cronies find out about your angel,” I
said. “Drawn its venom sacs, haven’t you? How brave will you look when they find out it’sless, shall we say, potent than you’d like them to think?”
His eyes changed, and I had half a second to think, Thank you, Mokraine, I owe you one, before I saw his hand drop. I grabbed his wrist, hard enough to hurt. “Don’t be a bloody fool.”
“You can’t hurt me!”
“What would you care to bet?” I said. True, I couldn’t kill him, loathsome as he was; it might cause trouble for Enthemmerlee, and that was something I was here to prevent. Plus, however great the temptation, I’m no frigging murderer.
“Let go!”
“Listen to me. You are going to straighten up, and you’re going to tell your chums to do the same. And you are going to act like guards. You are going to treat the Itnunnacklish’s life as far more precious than your own, or the news about your little pet is going to get out.”
“All right, all right.”
“And I want you and the rest of the guard at the gate, in just under an hour. All of ’em.”
I let him pull his wrist out of my grip. He was looking at me like a bad-tempered dog on a tight chain. A grudge would be held, no doubt about it; but then, it wasn’t as though we were ever likely to be the best of chums.
He pulled his mates into a huddle, and I heard him telling them that they weren’t going to let the Ikinchli get above themselves by trying to look smarter than Gudain.
It was a start. But without the captain actually acting like one, Dentor was still going to think he was in charge.
STIKINISK WAS HEADING back from her patrol of the grounds; she picked up her long easy stride to catch me. Her uniform was crisp, every button polished. Oh, those eyes. Delicious as fresh apples.
“Ready for the Palace tomorrow?” I said.
“Yes. We wait a long time for this. Hope we are good enough to keep her safe.”
“Me too. That’s our job.”
“Maybe you give me some tips, hah? Train me up, private?”
Subtle, by some standards. And I was tempted. Oh, the relief, that I was, looking at her, seriously tempted. It was like walking into sunshine after too long in shadow. But now Mokraine had told me she was attracted to me, doing anything about it seemed somehow like cheating. Besides, I was on duty, and it might complicate things, which were complicated enough already.
“I don’t think I’m going to have time for private lessons,” I said, letting the regret show. “But maybe your captain will be willing to let me give the guards a bit of a sharpener. We’ll see what can be done, eh?”
“Okay.” She lidded those remarkable eyes briefly, and I felt a little pang.
“Have you been with the Guard long?” I said.
“A few years. Me and – a while.”
“You and?”
“My brother, he used to be with the Guard.”
“He left?”
She scuffed the ground, not looking at me. “Yes. You got family back home?”
“I have my crew. They’re my family.”
“Crew like ship?”
“No, I run a... business, with them.”
“You get to choose who makes your family, then,” she said.
“I suppose so,” I said, looking at her. There was something in her voice; this conversation wasn’t quite as casual as it seemed, but I was damned if I could work out what was going on. I’d probably know more if I took her to bed, but doing that just to try and dig out whatever she wasn’t quite telling me... Well, that’s getting into dodgy business. There’s whoring, and there’s whoring.
“Anyway, is good. You got people to look out for you,” she said.
“And I look out for them.”
She nodded.
“Stikinisk? There is something maybe you could help me with,” I said. “Is there someone in the household the guards like? Someone you all see as a friend, or... heck, even an animal everyone’s fond of?”
Her tail flicked. “What you going to do?”
“Oh, hey, nothing bad. I promise. No one – not even a snake – is going to get hurt. That’s what I’m trying to prevent. I just need to know.”
What I needed was leverage. There was Dentor, but I had a feeling Dentor was the kind of lever that might snap under the hand, leaving a nasty jagged edge.
“The little one. Chitherlee.”
“Enthemmerlee’s niece?”
“Her father, he died of a bad fever. Her mother she had it too, get very sick, too sick to look after Chitherlee. At least, that is what they say, only...”
“Only?”
Stikinisk shrugged. “Maybe I should not say.”
“I won’t pass it on, Stikinisk.”
“The mother, she is not... She is like a little girl, in the head, you know? Not very smart. She go back to her family, leave the baby behind to grow up here. Chitherlee, she’s smart. Lucky, yes?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And she is everyone’s baby, she come toddling around the guardhouse as soon as she can walk; everyone, Gudain and Ikinchli both, all like Chitherlee.”
“Thank you, Stikinisk.”
“Anything bad happen to her, you going to have big trouble.”
“Trust me, I do not want anything bad to happen to her. Or anyone else.” I just wished I could trust that nothing would. This whole situation reeked of bad. “I want the guard, all of them, to the gate, in just under an hour’s time. I’ve told Dentor to bring his cronies, can you bring the rest?”
“I will try.”
AS I HEADED for the gate, the seneschal hurried up to me with that odd, stiff-backed walk of his, and said, “I have arranged for the... the warlock Mokraine to have rooms. I spoke to Lady Selinecree. She has ordered that he be at the far end, near the kitchens. I hope this will be sufficient?”
“Why so far from the family rooms?”
“Oh, they are not servants’ quarters,” he said, hurriedly. “A good room, I assure you. I told her he seemed unwell, and might need care, and I believe she also spoke to Scholar Bergast. She thought it best he be near the servants, so that he can be easily looked after. Also, his meals will be taken to his rooms.”
“I don’t think he’s that sick. Or at least, not sick in that way, precisely.”
“The Lady Selinecree insisted.”
“Well, thank her for her care.” The woman might be a complete flibbertigibbet, but at least she tried to look after her guests, even the ones who turned up unannounced in the middle of the damn night.
And got let in.
AT THE GATEHOUSE, the guard were leaning on the wall, blinking at the rain, weapons loose in their hands. One Gudain, one Ikinchli; both young, male and bored.
After a few minutes, I saw an Ikinchli in purple and green livery (Laney would have had a fit at the sight of it) coming towards them.
The guards nodded him straight through.
“Excuse me,” I said, going up to the new arrival. “And you are?”
“I am Inshinnik,” he said. “I come to speak to Rikkinnet. Is okay?” He blinked nervously at me.
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Come with me.”
I took him straight to Rikkinnet, keeping a very careful eye on him en route, and explained about the guard.
Rikkinnet swore, very quietly but for quite some time. “I have told her. I have told her and told her. This, though...”
Inshinnik looked anxiously from her to me and back. “I did wrong?”
“Not you, no,” I said. “Where’s Malleay?”
Rikkinnet snorted. “In his room, reading. We need another useless man?”
“Maybe not completely useless,” I said, and went and told him what I wanted.
“You want what?”
“Look, it’s important. Come and watch, if you need to. Can you get it?”
He protested, but eventually he disappeared, and came back, with one of the child’s dolls clutched in his hand.
“It’s not a favourite, is it?”
“No
. But I don’t see... What are you going to do?”
“Come and watch,” I said. The doll was a fairly elaborate one, and looked not unlike Chitherlee. Good.
I went back to Inshinnik. “I think those guards need a little lesson, if you’d be willing to take part in it.”
“Surely,” he said, when I told him what I wanted. “But this livery, is quite tight, no? How do we do this?”
“Allow me,” I said.
Under other circumstances, dressing him for the part would have been quite fun. He had a nice body under the appalling uniform, and no objection to being manhandled. In fact, he enjoyed it. Quite obviously, too. I eyed his emerging cocks with appreciation; Ikinchli penises are handsome things, to my eye, though a little startling to those not used to them.
Rikkinnet rolled her eyes. “Inshinnik. Babylon does not want to roll with you, okay?
“Maybe I ask her, not you,” Inshinnik said.
“I appreciate the thought, handsome, but there’s no time. Try and think of something else, I don’t want the guards to look more closely than usual.”
“Hah. Gudain never look. Gudain pretend no one has body at all. Poor Gudain ladies,” he sighed.
Malleay chose that moment to walk in, glanced down, spun away and stared at the wall, positively vibrating with embarrassment.
Poor Gudain ladies, indeed.
“I did warn you, this one keeps his brains under his tail,” Rikkinnet said. “We ready now?”
“As we can be,” I said, as Inshinnik, with some difficulty, laced his trousers.
Malleay, his blush only slowly fading, followed us as far as the gate.
Inshinnik walked through it. The guards watched him go, with the idle lack of interest of people lounging in a park. The rest of the guard had turned up: Dentor and his cronies in a bunch, a handful of Ikinchli with Stikinisk in their midst. The rest, the hoverers, in ones and twos. They eyed each other. The gate-guards looked at them, and at each other, and shrugged.
Rikkinnet and I withdrew to the trees, taking Malleay with us. “I really don’t see...” he said.
“Just wait,” I said.
Inshinnik strolled back in through the gate, calling out that he’d left his bag behind. The guards nodded him through.
