Taxing Courtship (The Hands of Destin Book 1)

by Jaycee Jarvis

  “I’ve been giving Terin a nice set of bruises.” Ulric swung a staff in a showy maneuver. “Do you want some?”

  Quintin’s fingers itched for a staff of his own. Instead he gestured at his sling. “Not yet, I’m afraid. If I tear my stitches, this will never heal.”

  Ulric grunted. “A pity. Terin’s not much of a challenge.”

  “I’m done for the day.” Terin leaned against his staff, breathing heavily. “What brings you here, Quintin? Skipping work to go whoring with Ulric?”

  “I’ll leave that to you. I wanted to ask Ulric a favor.”

  Ulric grunted encouragingly as he strode across the room to a bucket on a stand and pulled out a dipper.

  “I visited an old temple down near the river yesterday, and its yarumo tree is in dire need of some earthwork.”

  Ulric took a gulp of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Droplets splattered the floor. “What were you doing there?”

  Terin watched Quintin, a wicked gleam in his eye. “The lovely Lady Emmanuella wouldn’t be its patron, now would she?”

  “She is, actually. I went to pay my respects.”

  “Showing your fair savior the depth of your appreciation?”

  “Yes, though a pouch of kapok tea is hardly a balanced exchange for my life.” He fiddled with his sling. Had Terin recognized Em or was his teasing more general? “Lady Em has been very gracious. She insists I owe her nothing, but I thought she wouldn’t turn down earthwork for her holy tree.”

  Ulric tossed the dipper back in the bucket. “You want me to head over there and fix it up?”

  “This morning, if you’re willing.”

  Ulric shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’m willing to earn the blessings of the gods.”

  “I’ll go along to introduce Ulric to your fair savior.” Terin waggled his eyebrows at Quintin. “Unless you want the pleasure of seeing her yourself.”

  “She probably won’t be there, otherwise I’d be sorely tempted.” As much as he wanted to help Em, he also needed to keep his distance or risk giving the Bursar more fodder for his attacks.

  “We can’t let Ulric go alone. He’s likely to offend someone before he’s so much as stated his purpose.” Terin rubbed his chin. “This scheme needs grace and charm to smooth the way.”

  “Hey, I can be charming,” Ulric protested. He lifted an arm and sniffed his pit. “Though maybe not right after besting you in staves.”

  “Neither of you needs to charm anyone. All I want is help for her tree.”

  Terin smiled knowingly. “If you want to be the one to flirt with her, you should go with Ulric.”

  Ulric pointed at himself with his thumb. “Since I’m the one saving the tree, I get to flirt with the Lady.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about flirting.” Terin made a disgusted noise. “Especially with a Lady.”

  “Who’s flirting with Ladies?” Ophelia asked as she stepped through the archway.

  “I am.” Ulric tousled Quintin’s hair. “As a favor to Quintin.”

  “Moving up from your usual Taricday entertainments?” Ophelia asked, her voice heavy with disapproval.

  “I’ll get to those later.” Ulric clapped a hand on Terin’s shoulder. “Coming with me?”

  “Certainly.” Terin sniffed. “I’m your only hope of success.”

  Quintin waited until he heard the outside door close behind them before turning to Ophelia. “I need to talk to you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I know what happened to your missing orphan.”

  Ophelia gasped. “Where is she? Does she yet live?”

  “She’s working on an estate upriver. A messenger from Merdale will stop by Rivera today to take you there if you wish.”

  “However did you arrange this?” She clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and eager. “Merdale? Isn’t that where you got injured?”

  “Yes, and it’s how I arranged this.” Quintin explained about his conversation with Em, while carefully leaving out any hints of her secrets. “Once you’re satisfied Nadine is safe, it would be a great favor to the Lady if we could call off the inquisitors.”

  “Oh, it’s too late for that.”

  “What?”

  “They arrived last night.”

  Chapter 30

  Em lit an incense cone on the center of the altar at Aerynet. “Blessed Fermena, blow your holy breath upon my mind so I may find a solution to this predicament.”

  Stiff from a night praying in the steamroom, her body protested as she knelt before the altar. Her vigil brought back painful memories of her first months as a Lady. Then, as now, her desperate prayers were caused by Violet’s greed. The injustice of it all infuriated her.

  She breathed deeply, grappling with her rage. The Goddess of Air had no use for strong emotion.

  “Holy Fermena, mother of wisdom, please help me.” She needed the wisdom of the Goddess to see a way out of her dilemma. While her brother’s revelation about her cousin’s theft changed her understanding of her whole life, she was helpless to set things right and prevent Violet from continuing her damaging deception.

  The beaded curtain at the door rattled. Em twisted around, her aching body crying out at the motion. Lucy had gone to market, supplied by Lord Harold’s largess, and Em did not expect her back so soon. Had something gone wrong?

  Instead of Lucy, Quintin’s handsome friend Terin stepped into the sanctuary. “Lady Emmanuella, what a delight to see you here.”

  Em stood and delivered a respectful bow. “Welcome to Aerynet, Han-Advocate.”

  A massive stranger loomed next to Terin, his face obscured by a bushy black beard. Though too large for a munto, he had the dark coloring of the reclusive mountain people. His brows drew together as his eyes studied her with unnerving intensity.

  She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her kaftan and curved her lips in a polite smile. “Have you and your friend come to receive Fermena’s blessing?”

  Terin’s teeth glinted as he smiled. “We’ve come to earn her blessing.”

  The large man snorted. “You’re just here to look pretty. I’m doing the work.”

  “Pretty manners are necessary to the task.”

  Em’s stomach pitched. Between the problem with her deed chain and the threat of an inquisition, she couldn’t handle another surprise. “I don’t understand.”

  “Pretty manners, my arse.” The stranger cuffed Terin’s shoulder with a beefy fist. “Introduce us.”

  Terin gave his companion a narrow-eyed glare, before shining a smile at Em. “My deepest apologies, for I have been remiss. My lady, allow me to present Han-Builder Ulric of Furpass, Hand of Destin and Artificer for the Mortarary. Ulric, this is Lady Emmanuella a’Fermena.”

  Ulric bent his barrel of a body in a jerky bow.

  “Ulric is earth talented. Quintin thought your tree might be in need of his skills.”

  She licked her lips. While her father had placated her with a purse of cacao, the paltry amount would insult an earthworker. Besides, Lucy was out spending those beans on other supplies as they spoke. “It was very kind of Quintin to think of me, and you were quite obliging to visit, but really there was no need for you to come.”

  Ulric snorted and jerked his head at the tree’s yellowing leaves. “You shoulda had this done months ago.”

  She flushed, unable to deny it. “Your visit has caught me by surprise. I’m not prepared to properly repay you for your work. It would be best—”

  Terin waved an elegant hand in dismissal. “Consider it a gift.”

  She forced herself to laugh, though the sound was breathy and raw to her own ears. “I cannot accept such a valuable gift from a stranger.”

  Ulric’s dark brows dr
ew together in a fierce scowl. “It’s not a gift.”

  Terin face tightened though he continued to smile at her. “We’re not going to charge her, Ulric. Remember, let me do the talking to avoid offend—”

  “It’s not a gift.” The beefy man pointed a thick finger at her. “Quintin says this little bit of a thing saved his life. True or not?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, yes, but—”

  Ulric’s head jerked in a nod. “An hour of earthwork is a piss poor trade for my year-mate’s life. I’ll come out every season for a cycle or two. Fair?”

  She tilted her chin up. She had saved Quintin simply because it had been the right thing to do, a first in her lawless life. Her soul rebelled at twisting her honorable act into yet another way to make ends meet. “I didn’t help him in order to extort his friends.”

  “We wouldn’t dream you did, my lady.” Terin pressed his hands together and bent low. “We are indebted to you nonetheless. Quintin thought this might be one thing we could do to repay you. Please be gracious enough to accept this meager work as a token of our gratitude.”

  “Today.” Ulric crossed his arms over his chest, his massive biceps bulging. “And once a season for a whole cycle.”

  “Yes, yes.” While she had enjoyed feeling honorable and good while it lasted, as always Aerynet came first. To have the tree tended twice a year for nine years might restore it to full health again. “As you noted we are in dire need of it.”

  “Show me the roots, and I’ll get to work.”

  Em led Ulric back down the steps and around the pilings at the base of the building.

  He ducked his head to avoid the beams supporting the temple floor, and brushed cobwebs away from his face. He gagged as he moved deeper into the gloom. “This is terrible. Have you never had earthwork done?”

  “It’s been years,” she admitted in a small voice, torn between shame at her own failures to provide for Aerynet and renewed outrage at her cousin’s theft.

  Ulric muttered curses in response.

  Terin cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you to it then, eh, Ulric?”

  “Yes.” Ulric’s booming voice echoed strangely from under the building. “This will take at least a couple hours.”

  Terin offered his arm to Em. “Shall we go for a walk?”

  “While I’m needed here, you have no obligation to stay.” She held her breath against the hope he would leave. She wanted to return to her meditations, not spend two hours in idle chatter.

  “Abandon a beautiful Lady? Perish the thought. Why do you have to stay?”

  She climbed the steps back up to the sanctuary, slowly reciting the names of the gods in her head to soothe her disappointment. “Acolyte Lucy is out running errands, so I’m in charge of greeting any visitors.”

  “Is Aerynet too minor for a single Mystic?”

  “Mystic Patricia is resting.” Em held aside the sparkling strands curtaining the entrance. “Have you been on a job like this with Ulric before?”

  “Quintin isn’t in the habit of risking life and limb, so this situation is unique. I’ve only seen Ulric replenish the soil for Quintin’s mother.” Terin swept into the temple, his black and white waccat trailing behind him. “If you’ve got some good earthen food ready for him afterward, he’ll appreciate it.”

  “My father sent down a smoked bogbear haunch for my acolytes. I could warm some of it for him.”

  “Meat from the bogbear that nearly killed Quintin?” He flashed a perfect smile. “Ulric will relish it.”

  “What about you? Would you like some tea or refreshments?”

  “It is not you who should be serving me.” Terin bent low at the waist. “The question is, how can I best please you?”

  Em’s brow knitted. Did she imagine the innuendo in his tone? “I beg your pardon?”

  “I am also in your debt for my year-mate’s life.” Terin stepped closer, lowering his voice to a sultry purr. “I don’t have Ulric’s gift, but I do have other, more personal, skills you might enjoy.”

  “Since we’re all alone with a couple of hours to fill?”

  “Exactly.” He smiled, slow and sensuous as a snake.

  Too bad she’d never cared for reptiles. She skipped backward and pinned on her brightest smile. “How are your skills with a broom?”

  He staggered slightly, as if her move away had surprised him. “A broom?”

  “Yes. Fermena is ascending in less than a week, and we need to prepare for the celebration.” She cocked her head, abandoning all plans of polite yet tedious chatter. If this charmer wanted to hang around until Ulric finished his task, he could make himself useful. “The best way for you to repay your debt is to help me scrub this place from top to bottom.”

  “Oh, so that’s the way it is.” His seductive smile grew into a grin. “Shall I entertain you with stories of Quintin in his youth, then?”

  “No,” Em said quickly, an ache in her heart. His offer was more tempting than it should be. There was no future in learning more about the Han-Auditor. “Let’s get to work.”

  An hour later, Em was covered in dust and well satisfied with the progress they had made. Terin had convinced young Ben to climb into the rafters to string garlands and bunches of feathers around the ceiling. The sanctuary had a festive air unlike any time since her mother’s death. It was enough to give Em a thin ray of hope.

  The glass beads tinkled at the entrance. Em turned, expecting Lucy or Ulric. Instead a trio in the black and red tunics of inquisitors strode into the room.

  Her heart plunged to her stomach. Still she hurried forward to greet them, snagging a bundle of feathers as she went. There was nothing to be gained by appearing rude. She sank into the welcoming pose, the feathers held above her head. “Welcome to Aerynet, good inquisitors. A thousand pardons, I do not have a proper repast prepared for you. Please accept these feathers as a token of our esteem.”

  The trio stepped forward, making introductions and accepting the feathers.

  Em rose to her feet. “How may we be of service? Do you seek the blessing of the Goddess?”

  “Who does not wish to be blessed by the gods?” One woman asked. She appeared older than the other two and stood slightly in front of them. “Though our task here today is more specific in nature. Are you Acolyte Lucy d’Fermena?”

  “Acolyte Lucy is out at the moment. I am Lady Emmanuella, patron of Aerynet. May I help?”

  The lead inquisitor frowned. “We have questions only the acolyte can answer. When will she return?”

  “Bartering at the market is an unpredictable task. She could be gone for hours yet.” Em tried not to twitch as the other two inquisitors drifted away, their keen eyes studying the interior of her temple. Quintin had been able to deduce the state of their finances within minutes. Would these inquisitors also see beyond the paltry decorations?

  “You say you’re the patron?” The older woman raked a contemptuous glance over her dusty kaftan. “You don’t look like a Lady. Show me your deed chain.”

  Em’s stomach dropped to her toes. “I don’t have it on me,” she stammered. “I’m cleaning in anticipation of the new year and left my finery at home.”

  The inquisitor sniffed. “Your deed chain is not some bauble to be cast aside on a whim.”

  “Certainly not!” Em replied, trying to sound offended. “But I wouldn’t want it dirtied or damaged.”

  The inquisitor’s face tightened.

  Fearing she’d gone too far, Em bent in another respectful bow. “Shall I get you some tea while you wait for Acolyte Lucy?”

  “Or you could help scrub the sanctuary,” Terin suggested from his perch on a table against one wall.

  Em suppressed a flinch at his voice. She had forgotten he was there, witness to her humiliation.

  “
Who are you?” the lead inquisitor demanded.

  “Han-Advocate Terin, at your service.” He hopped down from the table and bowed deeply. His black and white waccat appeared from the shadows and sat at his feet.

  “What’s a Hand doing scrubbing floors?” the nearest inquisitor asked.

  “I’m happy to help my friend, Lady Em, while I’m between circuits. Besides, even Hands benefit from the blessings of the gods.” He waved a dirty rag at the inquisitor. “How about it? Want to earn some divine favor?”

  The inquisitor reared back, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

  “No, thank you,” the lead inquisitor said firmly. “Since you are busy here we will return to question Acolyte Lucy later.”

  “Shall I send word to the Troika Hall when she returns?”

  “Yes, I would appreciate it.” The inquisitor pierced Em with a gimlet glare. “I expect to see your deed chain when I return.”

  Em swallowed hard to conceal her panic. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter 31

  After Ulric completed his task, Em sent him and Terin on their way as quickly as good manners allowed. She needed her deed chain and there was only one way to get it. She rode her okapi to Merdale as fast as possible, not slowing to a walk until they entered the gardens.

  Her okapi snorted, his hooves crunching on the gravel drive.

  “Thank you, Fermena for your blessing and guidance,” Em murmured as she spotted Violet sewing under a fig tree at the edge of the garden. She had to talk to her cousin before her father realized she was back. The Goddess must approve of Em’s plan to let her find her quarry so quickly, and all alone. She climbed down from her okapi.

  Violet squinted against the noonday sun as Em stood over her. “Where have you been?”