“Jezran,” he insisted somewhat darkly, “if you do not trust me now, it may not be possible for us to succeed in whatever it is you have planned.”
I paused and considered his words carefully before replying. “Pi’Vari,” I said levelly as I approached him, lowering my voice as I got nearer, “the value of your loyalty isn’t exactly what it once was. Without some meaningful gesture on your part, it’s going to be hard for you to find your way back into the loop any time soon.”
Pi’Vari’s eyes narrowed. “And just what kind of gesture did you have in mind?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll think of something worthwhile,” I said cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. “But you might want to think about doing it quickly since our futures may have just gotten a whole lot shorter than they were yesterday.”
Satisfied that my points had been made, I turned and left the library in my herald’s capable—if duplicitous—hands.
The boxes were neatly arranged near the gate, when an honest-to-goodness wooden airship pulled into view a few hundred feet up in the air. It looked like a much, much larger version of the skiff Pryzius had been in when he found us on the Veldyrian Meadows, with a massive stern castle that was easily three stories tall.
The airship itself was probably two hundred feet long and a quarter as wide at the broadest point. It descended slowly until coming to a gentle rest no more than four feet from the street’s surface. It was eerie how silent the vessel was as it moved, as I had never seen something so large move without making any noise.
A massive ramp, large enough for two SUV’s to be driven up side-by-side, descended slowly until it touched down on the street a few feet in front of us.
I signaled the servants to carry the cases containing the books and other decoy materials up into the airship, and they complied immediately. Apparently I was the only person present who hadn’t seen an airship, but I had to keep up appearances since I was fairly certain that Jezran had seen them before.
At the top of the ramp was Pryzius, a warm smile plastered on his face. He had a long way to go before he mastered the expression the way his father had, but I realized that it was a pretty uncanny resemblance between father and son now that I got a good look at him.
“Jezran,” he greeted me. “Welcome aboard the Black Ranger,” he said in the same tone his father used—a tone reserved for when he was getting exactly what he wanted.
“Thank you,” I replied, fixing my own face into a similarly warm expression.
I nodded to Pi’Vari and Dancer, and together we proceeded up the ramp for what might be the last ride any of us ever took.
Chapter XXXI: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner…
A few hours into the ride and I became more certain with each passing minute that Pryzius intended to spring his trap en route to Coldetz.
The crew of the Black Ranger (which was apparently the name of the airship we were riding) was far too polite for any naval crew I’d heard of or seen. As expected, Pryzius had brought Gaeld with him and the young Tyrdren’s Sundered Champion was even wearing a few new pieces of jewelry. Those articles were doubtless enchanted to make him even more deadly in combat…if that was even possible.
“So how long will the journey take,” I asked Pryzius casually, trying to keep up appearances. We were standing on the second balcony of the stern castle, with a great view of the ship as it screamed through the sky faster than any passenger jet had a right to move.
Pryzius clapped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Not long, Jezran,” he assured me, “according to our Captain, we shall set down in Coldetz as tomorrow’s dawn breaks.”
“Good,” I said, nodding in satisfaction. “My men and I need some rest, I’m afraid, and now would seem to be a good time, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would,” he replied with a nod, “and please, accept my apology for that whole business with Kaven Urkalia. Sometimes I get…” He gestured airily to his head with his fingers before sighing, “I have a bad temper, and I am sorry that I jeopardized our potential future together over such a petty matter.”
This needed some cultivating, even if we both knew the whole thing was a sham, so I played along. “I thought you were still bitter about how things turned out on our class’s Selection Day,” I said hesitantly.
Pryzius laughed. Man, he was getting good at this. At this rate he would rival his father with less than another decade of practice.
“Jezran, Jezran,” he chuckled, “we both know that was a piece of politics between my father and your Master. Frankly, I think my father allowed Antolin’s petition for First Selection to succeed merely to drive me even harder, since he clearly believes me to be lacking in dedication.”
“Are you?” I blurted, instantly regretting the tactless query.
Anger flashed in Pryzius’ eyes for a moment, and I relaxed my mind in preparation for casting a defensive spell, but the moment passed and the young Tyrdren allowed a grin to spread across his face. “It is true,” he admitted, “that growing up in such lavish appointments and having every luxury known to humanity can have a deleterious effect on the average young man’s development.” He looked out across the deck of the ship before adding, “But, like you, I am not an average young man.” He turned to me and his expression turned serious. “My father was right, you know.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure your father has been right about many things.”
Pryzius shook his head. “No, I mean when he called the two of us the ‘future of Veldyrian’,” he explained. “He was right, and it took a lot of thought for me to agree with him.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s possible,” I admitted, “but I really don’t think so. You, maybe,” I added, “but not me.”
Pryzius clucked his tongue chidingly. “You sell yourself short, Jezran. You are more important than you know.”
I took that as the signal to take my leave, which I did immediately. “I’ll be in our assigned quarters, hopefully getting some sleep,” I said before turning and walking down the companionway leading to the main deck, where Dancer was keeping a watchful eye on Gaeld—who was returning the favor without any attempt at subterfuge.
I guess no matter how much pleasant conversation their masters made, the attack dogs knew the real score and were determined to land the first blow when the fur began to fly—especially if things went ahead of schedule.
“Dancer, Pi’Vari,” I called out, “let’s get some rest.”
When the door closed to our cabin, we sat down together and I saw that Pi’Vari had something heavy on his mind.
But finding out what it was would probably be tricky; I had instructed my companions not to discuss sensitive matters while aboard the Black Ranger, since there were certainly eyes and ears everywhere.
“What’s troubling you, Pi’Vari?” I asked after failing to come up with anything better.
My herald shook his head. “I cannot believe my stupidity,” he said, hanging his head as though in shame.
Now I was concerned. He seemed genuinely upset with himself, and not just putting on a show for the metaphorical cameras. I leaned forward. “What is it?” I asked, awkwardly placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Pi’Vari shook his head angrily. “I made a scheduling error, and now my sister will not receive her gift until the day after her birthday,” he said as he locked eyes with mine.
I’m not the best at picking up on innuendo, so I just stared at him dumbfounded for a few seconds.
Pi’Vari, trying desperately to communicate whatever it was he thought was so important, leaned forward. “Do you remember last month, when I was drunk and rambling on and on about how much she would enjoy the small stone carving I purchased during our travels?” he hinted, but I was still completely in the dark.
“You know the one,” he continued, looking at me expectantly, “I found it just outside the walls of Coldetz and decided to keep it, but then it fell out of my pack in the gr
aveyard where Aemir fell injured.”
Now I knew what he was talking about. “Oh, that one,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry; my mind was somewhere else just now. Yes,” I confirmed, “I know the one you mean.”
Pi’Vari nodded. “And do you remember how I told you that I had arranged for her to receive it sometime tomorrow evening, just in time for her celebration?”
“Yes,” I said slowly, my stomach doing cartwheels in my belly. “I remember you were quite specific on the timing, saying something about how badly you needed to be there to see the look on her face,” I said through gritted teeth. I knew I wasn’t going to like what he said next.
“Well,” he said quietly, “I was mistaken.” Pi’Vari paused, and I wasn’t sure I could bear the tension for even a few seconds but thankfully he continued, “Her birthday is tonight, not tomorrow night.” He hung his head in his hands, ripping at his hair. “I forgot about the extra day this month, and failed to verify the date before arranging for delivery.”
I felt pure, molten fury at that moment, but appearances needed to be maintained. “Well,” I said coldly after too long of a pause, “better late than never, I suppose.” It was a hollow sentiment, but there were appearances to maintain.
“Sister have birthday before,” said Dancer unexpectedly. “She understand; you there last time.”
Pi’Vari and I looked at the little man in equal amazement. Somehow, he had followed along through our little doublespeak session and had actually made an insightful observation. There was clearly more to my latest Champion than met the eye.
“That’s true,” I admitted, but it didn’t make me feel any better. “I guess we’ll just have to hope she forgives you when you return.”
Pi’Vari nodded, clearly still upset with himself, “That we will.”
I worked through the ramifications of Pi’Vari’s scheduling mistake (which I had allowed by not double-checking him) in my mind, but there was no way around the inevitable truth.
If Pi’Vari was right then the moon wasn’t going to be full tomorrow night; it was going to be full tonight—while we were still in transit! The Black Ranger was scheduled to arrive in Coldetz precisely at dawn, which was about twelve hours away. If the Iron Butcher picked up where Tyreva and the Colossus left off, we would be completely useless to the people gathered inside the castle who now depended on us for protection.
But no matter how much I thought it through there was literally nothing we could do about it. Even Co’Zar’I’Us and his slightly faster method of travel were unavailable to us; he had been pretty clear that it would take at least a week before he could reproduce it.
“Oh,” my herald added, clearly trying to change the subject, “I discovered from one of the crew that Pryzius intends to hold a banquet for us tonight in the Captain’s dining room.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I wonder why,” I mused. “Are you absolutely certain?” I asked, before hastily adding, “I brought along some of Chester’s meats and cheeses for dinner, but if they’re already planning something…” It was pathetic, but I had to come up with some reason why I was so interested in a potential meal.
Pi’Vari nodded, giving me a meaningful look before continuing. “I saw the table laid out with my own eyes. Apparently, Pryzius is sincere in his attempt to broker a friendship between our Houses.”
“That would be a welcome change,” I remarked absently. If Pryzius really did intend to hold a banquet for us, then it was likely that he wouldn’t strike before whatever scene he had planned at dinner was concluded.
Dancer decided to once again put his two cents in. “Good time for sleep,” he concluded.
I nodded. “That sounds like as good an idea as anything else,” I lied.
The three of us flopped into our assigned bunks before pretending to fall asleep. It was just an hour or two until dark, and usually the Great Houses preferred their dinner parties to begin just before midnight, and never earlier than around eleven o’clock pm.
That meant at least four hours of feigned slumber, which was a more daunting task than it sounds—and anything but restful.
But the hours passed uneventfully, until the expected knock came at the door and we rousted to play the parts of oblivious travelers awakening from a long nap.
“I thought a taste of the finest pleasures Veldyrian has to offer before we arrived in our new home to be a welcome idea,” said Pryzius, waving his arm at the banquet table laid out in front of us as we entered the dining hall.
There were fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, pastries and wines piled on the table. There were even some stranger forms of exotic nourishment, such as fried flowers, soups made by boiling certain woods in sweet nectars, and other unidentifiable oddities which were apparently Veldyrian delicacies.
But the food wasn’t all that Pryzius had thought to bring along. Scattered throughout the room were a dozen or so suggestively clothed women adorned in the colors of the rainbow, each standing out even among such an impressive collection of beauty. Some were tall and some were short. Some had curves that would make them millions if they ever got a reality TV show on cable, and others were athletic enough they looked like they could earn the same amount of money on a tennis court. One had skin the color of fresh milk, another’s was a deep, rich tan while yet another’s was as black as the Sudanese neighbors I had lived next to after getting my own place.
These women made no attempt to hide the nature of their role in this engagement, which was clearly to divide our attentions. And even with all the stress, plotting, scheming and general insanity I had dealt with in the previous few days—let alone the previous year and a half—I knew they would succeed to some degree no matter how hard we tried to ignore them.
“Please,” Pryzius prompted with a broad grin, “sit! Tonight, we should enjoy all our great Empire has to offer.”
I sat down in one of the heavily cushioned wooden seats, and my companions did likewise. Pryzius took his position at the head of the table, and Gaeld sat down next to him. The Sundered Champion predictably managed to ignore the beautiful women—unlike the rest of us.
“I do not believe I have ever seen such an impressive collection of exquisite pleasures,” remarked Pi’Vari appreciatively. “I, for one, am grateful to our host for arranging such an extravagant event.”
Pryzius waved his hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it,” he said in mock humility. “We all walk the same path, at least for the foreseeable future, and we must learn to enjoy each other’s company.”
I surreptitiously cast a simple spell which all wizards learn at the Wizard’s College. It was an Augury which allowed me to detect poisons, either magical or mundane in nature. Supposedly, the spell was impossible to fool, and it was one of the only spells which all High Wizards were allowed to use without a specific license.
Nothing on the table reacted as I swept my eyes up and down the impressive array of delicacies so I grabbed a chunk of smoked meat and took a bite, signaling my companions to do the same.
They complied greedily, and after just a few seconds everyone seated at the table was devouring whatever had caught their eye.
The women made their way around the table, and I did my best to keep my eyes off them but it was proving to be a difficult task. It had been many, many months since my last private encounter with a woman—and I’d apparently missed the experience more than I expected.
But I reminded myself that these were almost certainly part of Pryzius’ trap, and for all I knew they were each a fully-trained assassin with a dozen notches on their belts…or garters…or wherever women like these would keep such notches.
That thought actually did the trick, and I was able to once again focus on the task at hand: staying alive long enough to reach Coldetz. I thought it was unlikely that Pryzius would attempt to attack us in transit, since he had more to gain by somehow discrediting me in front of the High Sheriff of Coldetz before assuming direct control of the mythicite operation.
&nbs
p; But I knew that he would seize the opportunity if we presented too tempting a target, so I had to keep my wits about me and maintain my focus.
I couldn’t help but wonder if midnight had already come and gone. The people of Coldetz were going to be in for a long, bloody night without our help. Even with our help, it was likely that the Iron Butcher would prove capable of bringing down the Middle Gate, which made the fall of the Inner Gate inevitable.
And I had failed them, just like Co’Zar’I’Us had said I would: the people who depended on me were going to die because I had faltered. Soothsayers and self-styled prophets always wrapped their predictions in a tangled mess of clutter, so I was able to dismiss the rest of his ominous talk of being ‘poised to strike the decisive blow,’ which at the time he’d said it seemed like nothing but a bunch of rubbish.
But he had been fairly clear on the particular point of how I would fail them and how they would pay the price for my failure—and it burned me to the core.
Pi’Vari’s failed attempt at balancing three of the women on his lap at once snapped me out of my self-torture. My herald apparently thought he knew exactly what to do with those particular pleasures, and I honestly couldn’t blame him. After all, there were worse ways to die than in the company of three beautiful women.
And as much as I was feeling angry, sorry, and otherwise disappointed with myself, I couldn’t even contemplate giving up. The people in Coldetz needed me, and I owed it to them to help however I could. That meant putting up with this farce of a party, either until we could retire back to our bunks or until we reached Coldetz and saw just how bad the damage was.
Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) Page 37
