“Speaking of the Triumvirate, has our third member arrived yet?” Lucius asked.
Casting a look over her shoulder, Grennar shook her head. “Perhaps Adrianna is going for unfashionably late?”
“Speak my name and I shall appear,” a woman whispered behind them, a mischievous taint to her voice lending her fire-scarred face a dread quality.
Lucius glanced round and nodded a greeting to Adrianna and, with an apologetic look to the man next to him, shuffled along the bench to create room for her to sit. He saw Grennar narrow her eyes briefly, and he guessed why. The girl had looked behind them mere seconds before Adrianna had appeared, and had not seen the Shadowmage. Adrianna had seemed to materialise out of thin air, though whether it had been actual magic or simply a stealthy approach through the crowd, Lucius could not tell. Once, he had been able to sense the use of Adrianna’s magic, but those times had passed.
Once, he had called her Aidy, but it was now impossible to think of her in those old, familiar terms. This was now a very different woman sitting next to him, one utterly confident in her abilities which in themselves might well be boundless. She made him nervous and, though Grennar hid it, he knew Adrianna had a similar effect on the girl.
“We were wondering whether you would show up at all,” Grennar said, trying to cover her discomfort. Lucius had always felt that Grennar trusted him, as much as anyone could trust a thief, and considered him her equal. However, he also suspected that, around Adrianna, she felt more like the little teenage girl everyone else saw.
Adrianna beckoned and a tankard of wine skidded across the table into her waiting hand. She sipped at it and winced, the curse under her breath decrying all foul Pontaine wines.
“I was summoned,” she said pointedly, before glaring at Lucius. “Summoned. Me!”
Lucius meant to lay a hand on Adrianna’s arm to calm her fury, but stopped before his hand had travelled an inch. He briefly considered it was silly for him to think that she would burn him down with magic just for touching her. He also remembered that, in the past, he had touched far more of her than that, but instantly wiped the memory from his mind’s eye.
“I know we don’t need this baron,” Lucius began, “but we can perhaps make things easier for ourselves.”
He did not entirely believe this – many of the things he wanted out of this evening very much required the assent of the baron, but he had learned to talk to Adrianna in her own language, from her own perspective. It saved a great deal of argument and, after events in the recent past, Lucius was still very cautious in his dealings with Adrianna. Her energies seemed to be concentrated solely in gathering power for her guild of Shadowmages these days, but he never knew what might spark another explosion of her wrath. If that happened, the whole city might suffer.
Again.
“If a mere evening’s work means we can come to a suitable arrangement with the baron, then Grennar can get back to her beggars, me to the thieves and you can. . .” Lucius hesitated for a second, unsure of how to proceed.
Adrianna cocked an eyebrow at his delay and smiled with all the grace of a viper.
“What, Lucius?” she asked, the mischief coming back into her voice. Lucius wondered whether she had developed a natural cruel streak in recent months, or whether she viewed making him nervous as some sort of sport, or punishment. “I can get back to building the strongest and most powerful guild of mages this poor world has ever seen, perhaps? Start dredging up the oldest of magics and wrestle them under my command alone? Is that what you were going to say?”
“We’ve all got things we want, and they are things the baron can give to us with very little effort,” Lucius said, determined not to be drawn into whatever dark fantasy Adrianna was contemplating.
“He’s right,” said Grennar from the other side of Adrianna. “The baron is someone we can actually negotiate with.”
She stopped her explanation as Adrianna slowly turned to give her a withering glance of contempt. Grennar looked away, under the pretence of studying the baron further, but Lucius could sense how unsure she was around the older woman. Then again, Adrianna had that effect on most people she met.
Adrianna turned back to Lucius. “I will tell this baron what I am after, and he may request certain services of my guild. But this is not a negotiation, you understand that, Lucius? I do not negotiate. The baron wants what only my Shadowmages can provide. My price will be high and I will not be bartered down like some common trader. You remember that.”
Lucius nodded dutifully. “I will, Adrianna. I will.”
“And I trust you have not forgotten your training tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Make sure you are clear headed when you arrive,” Adrianna said as she sent her thoughts across the room to redirect a servant who was carrying a silvered plate of cold meats to the baron’s table. The boy looked momentarily confused, then trotted over to place the food in front of Adrianna.
Lucius returned the cup of mead he was about to drink to the table. He was not sure if Adrianna had been giving him a pointed direction or whether she was oblivious to his actions, but he decided that getting drunk at the banquet would not be the wisest move. In fact, he would not have put it past the baron for that to be the intention of inviting them to the banquet before meeting them.
The evening continued and the three guildmasters watched, the conversation between Lucius and Grennar somewhat stilted now Adrianna had arrived, as others in the hall steadily became more inebriated with the free-flowing Pontaine wines, spirits, mead and a drink served in a hot bowl they heard described as the Flower of Anclas. Its effect seemed to floor even the heaviest-set drinker quickly.
Many of the men present paired themselves with young female companions and throughout the darker recesses of the hall the couples could be seen in various states of undress, taking advantage of looser Pontaine morals to elevate themselves on the social ladder in a more intimate fashion, or simply to enjoy pleasures of the flesh beyond the copious food and drink. It seemed to Lucius that their visitors from Pontaine took everything to excess without recourse to consequences. He wondered if that would be the case during business negotiations.
An hour or more passed, and Lucius could tell Adrianna was becoming impatient, not from what she said but her growing, cold silence. It was with some relief that he saw the Baron de Sousse finally stand up and declare himself fit to retire, but he gave his blessings to anyone who wanted to continue enjoying his hospitality.
With that, the baron turned and disappeared into one of the many small doorways that lined the main hall, giving a lewd wink to a young man who had cornered one of the female servants against the wall and was trying to clumsily navigate his way through her garments.
“Does he intend to keep us here all night?” Adrianna finally said after another half-hour went by. Lucius was beginning to get worried that she would simply push her way into the keep in an effort to find the baron, and he doubted the lax attitude the Pontaine baron had lent to his security would extend to his personal quarters.
“We’ll be sent for,” he said. “I imagine you would have much to deal with yourself in your own house.”
He received a dismissive snort for his trouble, but a few minutes later a tall man clad in a dark blue tunic bowed low to them and bid them follow. The baron awaited their pleasure.
Once outside the hall, Lucius was surprised at how loud the banquet had been, for the corridors and staircases leading into the more secret parts of the keep were deathly quiet, leaving his ears ringing slightly from the lack of noise.
Leading them on what seemed a circuitous route past many confusing junctions and up six flights of spiralled stairs, the tall man bowed low again as he drew up to a closed door which he rapped upon once with his knuckles, and then swept his hand to indicate they should enter.
Adrianna was first, followed by Lucius and Grennar. The room was large, with an open balcony opposite the door that looked out onto the courtyar
d. Within, the room was richly appointed, with thick and colourful rugs scattered across the floor, while dozens of framed paintings depicting both landscapes and people fought for space on the walls. In front of the balcony, the baron sat behind a Sardenne oak desk, a finely crafted example with gold-inlaid patterns woven into the legs and rim. The contents of this room alone were worth several of the richer townhouses in Turnitia and served to mark the baron as an extremely wealthy man. The Citadel, after all, was merely an outpost in his wider realm. What must his home castle be like?
The Baron de Sousse was hunched over his desk, taking great care as he wrote into a book with a magnificent feathered quill. He did not look up as he spoke.
“Please, do come in,” he said, and Lucius noted immediately that his speech was not slurred in the least. However much the baron had drunk during the banquet, it seemed to affect him little. “I must apologise for my inattention, but I get so little time to work on the important things in life that I am forced to snatch but minutes here and there.”
Reaching the end of his current page, he reached across his desk for a pot and scattered powder from it over the wet ink. Holding the book up, he twisted round towards the balcony and blew on it, sending the powder spiralling into the evening air. Turning back to them, he gave a gracious smile.
“My current project,” he said, gesturing to the book as he laid it back down on the desk. “A history of expeditions into the Sardenne.”
“You have had family engage in such expeditions in the past,” Grennar said, and Lucius was not entirely sure it was a question.
The baron graced her with a wide beaming smile. “Indeed, young lady. It was my grandfather who penetrated the northern reaches to bring back the first reliable maps of the interior.” His smile slipped a little. “Of course, when he tried the same thing on the western approach, it did not end so well for him.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that.”
De Sousse waved the concern away. “Well, we all have to die, and it was a noble cause he was pursuing. I am just sorry that all his notes and maps disappeared with him. Ah, can’t be helped, I suppose.”
Leaning back into his chair, the baron gave all three a careful look. “We have common interests, the four of us. I’ve discussed my ideas with Grennar and she has indicated to me that the three of you are willing to come to agreement on certain issues.”
“If... certain accommodations can be made in return,” Lucius said.
“Of course,” the baron said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “That is how these things work. You will find, Mr Kane – or may I call you Lucius?”
Lucius nodded his head once.
“Splendid. And you may call me... well, call me Baron, or Your Excellency, actually. One must observe the forms.” The baron closed the book in front of him, and continued. “It seems to me that four groups of people must work in harmony if this city is to remain safe, secure and, just as important, prosperous. That would be the thieves, the beggars, the Shadowmages and those of us from Pontaine.”
“What about the merchants?” Lucius asked. “They control the wealth.”
“They have wealth, and can guide much of the gold that is on open view to everyone,” the baron conceded. “However, the merchants will always follow a strong hand – that is, after all, where the profits are likely to be. They also have little loyalty to one another and no binding organisation or structure – such as a guild. This makes them very easily led and, right now, the one to follow is Pontaine. We hold the balance of power here.”
“Until the Empire decides it wants this city back, or Pontaine decides just one city is not enough,” Adrianna said, speaking for the first time. “Your move into this city was neatly done, but there will be a reckoning between Vos and Pontaine. You made the first step.”
“With all respect, Lady, I disagree,” the baron said. “Vos is a spent force in the south at the moment, and they have their own internal problems with the rise of the Final Faith in their midst – contrary to popular rumour, that church and Vos are not one and the same.”
“And Pontaine?”
“As you have suggested,” the baron said, smiling again, “the Vos withdrawal from Turnitia was a chance we could not ignore. But we have no plans for any continued hostilities with the Empire. Neither nation is in any fit state for it after the last war, and I think it will be beyond the lifetimes of everyone present, even Grennar here, before war blights this land once again. No, Pontaine has no desire for war and Turnitia is, in the overall scheme of things, not important enough for Vos to waste time and money on retribution. We are safe here.”
“I am not entirely convinced,” Adrianna said. “I have met too many of your type in the past to believe anything you say.”
“Of course you don’t,” the baron said. “But this is how relationships are built. As we continue in our business relationship, you will learn more about me and my people – and I hope you will soon find I am of a type you have not yet met. Until then, we will be cautious. Both of us.”
“So where do we start?” Lucius asked.
Sifting through a sheaf of papers on his desk, de Sousse finally produced a single scroll that he handed to Lucius.
“For a start, this is a list of nobles and other notables I would like you to avoid robbing,” the baron said. He handed another paper to Grennar. “And these are the areas I would like to keep clear of beggars.”
Lucius glanced quickly at his list. There were no names on it he recognised, nor had he expected to. He presumed these men and women were high-borns from Pontaine or wealthy merchant-types that the baron had promised to protect. It was of little consequence, as he would find out who they were from Grennar in due course, and so few names to avoid still left an awful lot of business elsewhere in the city.
Beside him, Grennar was frowning. “The Square of True Believers? We have done some of our best business there in the past.”
“Your best business will always be around the outskirts of the Five Markets,” the baron answered, “and I would not think of taking those away from you. However, I have plans for the square – changing its name for one, and demolishing that eyesore of a cathedral. We’ll be turning it into the finest set of city gardens outside of Pontaine and, I hesitate to say, having your colleagues working the pathways and bridges will not lend to the atmosphere I am looking for.”
“The areas outside the gardens?” Grennar asked.
“All yours.”
“Done.”
The baron slid another paper across his desk.
“Now something altogether more distasteful. This is a list of people I find to be... unpleasant. I want them gone, dead. By the hand of thief, beggar or Shadowmage, I do not care which. Whoever does it, I believe you’ll find them either unknown to you or in serious need of meeting a grave. Old Vos officials, Final Faith sympathisers and the like.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Lucius said. His assassins had lacked for decent work since Vos had left the city, and if there was one section of his guild he wanted to keep on his side, it was Elaine’s old comrades.
“Finally,” said the baron, “I want a bodyguard. A Shadowmage.”
Adrianna hissed her disapproval at that suggestion.
“My Lady, I would not think of asking for such a favour without a contract and suitable payment in place. The skills of your guild are much renowned and it would benefit me greatly to have someone at my side who would add so much to my magical repertoire.” Seeing she was not convinced, de Sousse quickly continued. “And, I flatter myself, you would have at least some interest in placing someone so close to me, where I could be watched and reported on.”
Lucius cocked an eyebrow at that, and the baron favoured him with a frank smile.
“We will all watch each other, Lucius,” he said. “That is part of the game we play. We have common interests that can bind us together, but they won’t remove our natural suspicions. I see no reason not to be open about that when we all kn
ow it.”
Lucius noticed how the baron was changing his demeanour and mannerisms depending on who he was talking to. With Adrianna, it was with utter respect, he was deferential to a fault, though that could well have had as much to do with tales of the Shadowmage’s attack on the city before he arrived. Grennar he seemed to treat as a girl some years older than she really was, one who had proved her worth. And with himself, the baron was more relaxed, as though they had been friends for some years – though he guessed that was exactly how the baron wanted him to feel.
During the banquet, the baron had been the lead rogue among the revellers, but his drunken behaviour had disappeared the moment they had entered his chamber. The baron was clearly a shrewd opponent, very canny, and Lucius resolved not to be drawn in. This was a man he should watch carefully.
“We have some requests ourselves,” Grennar said.
“Of course, and I will be happy to accommodate you where I can.” The baron picked up a small silver bell from his desk and shook it, the tinny ring barely seeming to escape past them. “But you’ll excuse me if I bring in an advisor. My memory is not as sharp as most.”
Lucius doubted that.
The door behind them swung open and a heavyset man with a broad moustache entered. He seemed to fill the room as he towered a head taller than Lucius, and his frame was contained within a scarlet cloak that he drew around a bulging dark tunic. There was no hint of fat or lethargy about him though, and Lucius at first suspected he was some kind of warrior, perhaps a knight of Pontaine.
“Allow me to introduce Tellmore,” the baron said. “One of my most trusted colleagues.”
“His Excellency is too kind,” the man murmured. He turned to face the three guildmasters and dipped his head in a short bow. “I am Tellmore, Master of the Three Towers, Graduate with Honours of the League of Prestidigitation and Prestige, Watcher of the Forbidden Archive, Adept of the Tempest, and Enchanter of Familiars... among other things.”
The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) Page 52
