Land of Night (10 page)

Liall frowned. “My mother speaks perfect Bizye."

Scarlet froze, casting his mind backward. Had he said anything offensive? He couldn't remember. “Oh, Deva,” he moaned, sinking into a chair.

Liall was thoughtfully running his fingers over the smooth stones, the silver webbing as flexible as silk in his hands. “This belonged to my grandfather, King Lukaska. My mother adored him,” he said quietly. “Perhaps she just means to show her favor to you."

"She means to put a broadside into Shikhoza, you mean. And at my expense. Just don't seat me next to any more fat barons."

Liall sat beside him. “Little fear of that. If I know my mother, she will want you to sit at the high table tonight, right where your pretty necklace can sparkle the lamplight into Shikhoza's eyes."

Scarlet made a strangled sound. “Gods, does she hate me?"

"No. But she does not know you. Strange as it seems, this is her way of finding out who you are.” Liall smiled a little. “I do not endorse her methods, but I am proud of the way you acquitted yourself today. She would not have given you this if she did not approve of you."

"I'll let you know my opinion of her."

His eyebrows went up a little. “When might I expect this report?"

Scarlet elbowed him, not gently. He
oofed
and chuckled. They sat in silence for a while until Nenos entered the room and bowed.

"Time to dress,” Liall said to Scarlet's questioning look.

"What, again? Hells!"

Nenos had more velvet and satin for him, which was beginning to feel less stifling. Liall, already dressed and glittering in a pitch black virca with silver trim, watched silently as Scarlet was laced and chivvied into another black virca that felt like it weighed a ton. Scarlet's clothing was smaller and there were differences in the swirling silver embroidery on the front pleats, but they were near enough to matching that Scarlet did a double take when he saw Liall and himself side by side in the mirror.

Liall turned to admire Scarlet with his own eyes. Liall ran his hands over the soft fabric covering Scarlet's chest, and his arms slid around Scarlet's neck. Only then did Scarlet realize that Liall was fastening the necklace around his throat.

"Keriss kir Nazheradei,” Liall said softly, as if trying it out. “I like your true name better, and I like your red pedlar's coat, but we must wear different skins while we are here."

Scarlet sighed, giving a little against his will. Liall had that effect on him. “This is very strange to me. Not at all what I expected to find."

"What did you expect?"

He shrugged. “What I've always known, I think. A good, hard road during the day, and at the end of it a simple meal and a bed if I'm lucky. New faces, new lands, new things to see."

"Well, you have the latter at least. And much more than a simple meal and a plain bed. Does that truly displease you?"

Scarlet hesitated. “I don't know,” he confessed. “It's very ... interesting here, but I'm not sure I could get used to it. And you're not exactly yourself, either."

"Explain."

"You're colder."

Liall paled a little. “I do not mean to be, I am just ... I am afraid, Scarlet."

That nearly made Scarlet laugh. What could fright Liall? “You? Of what, for Deva's sake?"

Liall bit his lip, looking down at Scarlet, his hands on Scarlet's shoulders. “I value your opinion of me very much."

Hells, what was this? “It's still in one piece."

"What if people were to say things about me? That I was not a good man, or that I had killed someone?"

Cadan had called Liall a brigand and accused him of murder, too, and Scarlet saw what a snake Cadan was, and how wrong. He shrugged. “I'm no stranger to insults. Did you believe everything the crew of the Ostre Sul said about me? Then stop fretting. Besides,” he added “even if you have killed someone, I'm sure they deserved it."

Liall did not answer, but his face turned sad as he arranged the heavy, glittering blue stones with his fingers. “Shall we go?"

They arrived some minutes before the queen and were seated—as Liall had warned—at the high table. Scarlet saw incredulous looks from all across the hall, but he let them slide off him without harm. That is, until he saw Shikhoza's eyes, poisonous with malice, fixed on him intently. Even Oleksei's hate had not been so pointed, so personal.

Liall did not look at the Lady, but he closed his hand over Scarlet's. All rose when Nadiushka arrived, but she smiled soberly and kissed her son on both cheeks. She held out a hand to Scarlet, and he bowed, this time remembering Jochi's admonitions.

"You are very brave,” she told him in that musical voice, in perfectly fluent Bizye. “And very honorable. I see now what captured my son."

"Thank you, your Majesty,” Scarlet said, but it was halting and resented. He did not enjoy being her barb to prick Shikhoza with, and whatever Liall said, he knew that was a big part of her extravagant gift to him.

Scarlet sensed the queen reading him as easily as a hunter tracking a desert deer. “You are welcome here, as I have said, Keriss,” she said pointedly, and took her seat beside the striking young man that Scarlet knew must be Cestimir, the Crown Prince. Cestimir lifted his glass to Scarlet and smiled cordially, but they could not talk with the queen and Liall seated between them. That would have been rude.

Cestimir was younger than Scarlet, and Scarlet had supposed this prince would be like any other Rshani he had met, either subtle and quick or hostile and curt. He had sharp eyes for a lad, though. Piercing, Scarlet decided, but there was no subtlety or art in his gaze. Cestimir's pale eyes thrust his glance like a weapon. Not the finesse of the slender Morturii long-knives either. Perhaps an axe.

Cestimir's clothes also caught his attention, for among all these glittering folk, the heir-apparent was dressed as plain a servant in a dun-gray wool virca with a piping of blue silk. The very absence of finery, in his position, made him stand out.
Here is a serious boy,
Scarlet thought. He wondered if Cestimir ever laughed.

Scarlet ate, watching the hall with interest. There were many courses of food and altogether too many pieces of silverware. Some of them completely baffled him, including one fork that was no bigger than his finger. He stared at it, wondering what it was for. Liall slid a glance to him and carefully speared a very tiny salted fish with it. Scarlet copied the action, and Liall smiled as if they shared a joke. Liall spoke sometimes in Bizye and sometimes in Sinha to his mother, but all the while Scarlet was aware that they were being watched carefully.

After a time, Scarlet managed to pretend that the hundreds of eyes on him did not exist. He narrowed his world down to the people at the table with him. By the time the meal was over and they could withdraw, he was growing sleepy. Scarlet had walked so far and stretched his mind so much to remember everything said to him that he felt as if he had done an honest day's work for the first time in months. The feeling was welcome. If they stayed here very long, he would have to get Liall to set him to some task or other, just so he would not feel useless and idle.

4.

A Bit of Music

It was customary in Rshan to stay until the host of the table, in this case the queen, retired. She remained longer than usual that night and when she rose, Liall did the same and put his arm out for Scarlet to take. As they filed out of the bright hall among the sound of clinking glasses and the mingled smells of food and incense, Scarlet flashed Liall a tired smile.

"I hope we don't have to repeat this any time soon,” he said lowly.

"You did perfectly."

"I half expected someone would ask me how we met again."

Liall covered Scarlet's hand on his arm with his fingers. “Not that I give a damn what they think, but you could always put forth something else, Scarlet."

"Lie?"

"Maybe only a little,” Liall soothed, knowing the Hilurin dislike for falsehood.

"Well, I could, and I did broaden the truth a little to Prince Eleferi when he prodded me for tales, but the queen was at the table."

"And?” They passed a large knot of courtiers and ladies at the far end of the hall who were chatting and drinking wine from long-stemmed glasses. They bowed to Liall and Scarlet.

"And she has that ring,” Scarlet said.

Liall frowned, his pace slowing.

Scarlet looked up at him innocently. “What's wrong?"

"What ring?"

"The ring your mother wears."

"My mother wears many rings."

"No,” Scarlet said impatiently, in sincere earnest. “The stone of truth."

Liall did a double-take, tried to hide what he felt, and failed.

"Oh, I see.” Scarlet might be naïve, but he was never slow. “It's not a magic ring. Is it?"

Liall was chuckling openly now. “Do you believe in fairy spells and light o'the wisps, too?"

"Liall.” A warning.

"Honestly, love,
magic?"
They passed another group of diners nearer to the great arched doorway, all glimmering with crystal and brightly shining silk. They stared at the prince's grinning face, openly interested.

"Stop it,” Scarlet said from the corner of his mouth, his ink-dark eyes glittering, but Liall had the matter in his teeth and would not let go.

"What about toadstool imps and nightflyers and goblins and—
oof!"

There was an audible and collective gasp from the watching courtiers, and ahead of them the queen turned to see what it was and found Liall nearly doubled up with laughter, holding his ribs where Scarlet had jammed his elbow quite hard, and the courtiers staring in absolute shock.
No one
struck a prince of Rshan, not even in jest.

"Witches?” Liall inquired, still laughing a little. “Sprites? Dragons?"

Scarlet thumped him on the shoulder, which drew more gasps as well as disapproving glares. Liall saw his mother on Cestimir's arm, and the highly diverted look she had on her face. It was worth having Scarlet's ire washing over him just to see how much she enjoyed the scene. Jochi was clearing his throat, attempting not to laugh, and the scandalized look of delight on Cestimir's young face was priceless. Before Scarlet could discipline him again, Liall threw himself at Scarlet and wound his arms around the Scarlet's slighter frame, immobilizing him before lifting him off his feet. Scarlet struggled, his expression outraged.

"Rutting lunatic, put me down!"

"No, you will chastise me again."

"Damn right I will if you don't put me
down!"

"Mercy!” Liall begged.

Someone tittered laughter. Scarlet was as red as a flame-flower but no longer struggling.

"Nazheradei,” the queen called, her tone light, “if you are quite through pawing my dinner guests?"

Liall set Scarlet on his feet. Scarlet jerked his clothing straight, not looking at Liall.

"For now,” Liall said meaningfully, and there was more humor.

Liall again offered Scarlet his arm. Scarlet took it, though it plainly galled him to do so. As they resumed their progress, Scarlet dug his fingers deep into Liall's bicep, hoping it would give him a cramp.

"You are in so much trouble,” he vowed under his breath.

"I certainly hope so,” Liall murmured in return.

Three days later, during a lull in the Baronial negotiations due to a Feast day, Liall returned to the apartment when twilit afternoon was wearing into twilit evening. Finding the common room and bedroom empty, he peered around the corner of the dining nook and into the kitchen. “T'aishka?” he called.

Nenos appeared immediately, his bright blue tunic smudged with flour and his white hair pulled back from his face. “Jochi has escorted him to the library,” he informed Liall as he dried his hands on a towel.

Liall's heart sank. “The library. Why?"

Nenos looked apologetic. “My Bizye has always been very terrible, but I believe your t'aishka made Jochi believe that if he did not take him out of the apartments today, he would leave on his own."

Liall sighed and thanked him and paced off through the long hallways and corridors of the palace. The library. Nadei and he had played there endlessly as boys. He remembered they used to hide behind an enormous bookcase incised with the heads of wolves, snickering behind their hands as servants poked in the corners, looking for them. It was not a place he wanted to see again.

Liall paused at the entryway of the library, hearing many voices issuing from the large, vaulted room.

A royal library is not a small, cozy affair, but an imposing and opulent theater where the plays being acted out by the occupants are ones of intellectual snobbery and hubris. Liall could not imagine why Scarlet had wanted to visit it, and he quailed at entering and stirring up all those old memories. Shikhoza's voice, issuing in a silky stream from the room, made him go still as a hare. Liall listened, half hidden by a solid wall of heavy, brocaded black tapestry placed near the entrance.

"I am no judge of Byzan literature, to know what might appeal, but you might enjoy this.” Shikhoza held out a little gilt-edged piece of parchment to Scarlet.

Liall saw that Nenos had dressed Scarlet in muted tones today, gray boots, dark blue breeches, and a simple knee-length virca that had touches of both, with only a plain necklace of milky blue topaz for adornment. He looked small and interesting among all those pale giants, a little dark bird from the south.

"It's an old Rshani poem, from a very large and popular volume. It's in Bizye, ser Keriss. I had it translated for you."

Scarlet accepted the poem from Shikhoza, though all could see it nettled him. Then he looked at her and—Liall supposed—saw the avid way she scrutinized his response, like a cat about to pounce on the interloping bird. Her satisfaction was evident even from Liall's hidden vantage point. She was confident Scarlet would fail, would be humiliated and shown up for the peasant upstart he was. Liall's hand gripped the tapestry tighter and he began to move forward, wanting to spare Scarlet.

Then, Scarlet smiled. It was a careless, easy grin that lit up his features. He shrugged and offered the poem back to her. “It might as well be in turtle or snow bear, for I can't read it."