The Other Lands (34 page)

Yanzen picked up the pipe, held it close to his neatly trimmed whiskers, and sniffed. “It’s not mist tainted, is it?”

“Such distrust!”

“Who’s to say it’s distrust? I wouldn’t mind a good mist haze every once in a while.”

Yanzen opened the weed pouch, pinched out a wad, and jammed it in the pipe. The motions had a coarse quality that was at odds with his neat garments and manicured fingernails and the aquiline grace of his mature features. Yanzen, like many whom Delivegu associated with, had more than one face. He had been in the service of the Saden household since he was a boy of five, first as an errand boy, later tending the family’s horses. For a time he trained as second to Sigh Saden’s youngest son, before the lad succumbed to a fever. In recent years he had risen to be head of the household servants. It was this position—with the great many intimacies it provided him access to—that made him a person of interest to Delivegu. Something his masters surely did not know was that Yanzen had an affinity for gambling and a considerable appetite for prostitutes. Sharing such vices, Delivegu and Yanzen had been on good terms for some time. The fact that Yanzen owed Delivegu an ever-growing sum of money had not dampened their friendship. Indeed, it seemed to warm both men to each other.

“So,” said Yanzen, blowing a cloud of smoke between them, “have you parted the queen’s thighs yet? Is she as sweet as she looks, or is it all ice inside her? Opinions differ, you know. Saden boasted the other night that she likes to suck toes. Is that true?”

Nothing in Delivegu’s expression betrayed how close he came to reaching across the desk with a fist. He could not have said why he found the comment so infuriating, but the notion that any part of Sigh Saden’s body would get near the queen’s mouth flushed him with angry heat. It was a lie, of course. Being a man who never had to lie about his conquests, Delivegu despised those who did. That’s how he explained it to himself, at least.

He said, “I doubt Saden has anything else that she could suck on. Either that or his toes dwarf his manhood. Just as likely. No, I’m not out to bed her.” He paused to let the lie sit a moment, and then continued with something more reasonable sounding. “That way lies madness. I have higher aspirations. I intend to be indispensable to her.”

“Do you, now? And what does she think about that?”

“She already calls on me about delicate matters. She has no chancellor, you know, nor does she want one from among her class.”

“You fancy yourself in line for the chancellorship, then?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Delivegu said. He loosened a few buttons on his shirt. No matter the tailoring he requested, his shirts always cramped his shoulders. “Yes, I know there are matters of birth to be considered, but you let me worry about that. Of course, I’ll look kindly on those who aid my endeavors, which are, in truth, the queen’s endeavors.”

As he finished off his whiskey, Yanzen watched him over his mug. Wiping the foam from the sides of his mouth, he asked, “What can I do for you, then? You want somebody dead in the Saden household? Most anything could be arranged, so long as we price it first.”

“No, I hold the entertaining assignments for myself. It’s just information I’m after. Your breadth of knowledge interests me. Who, in your mind, is the queen’s greatest enemy among the nobles?”

Yanzen shrugged. “Who’s to say? Flip any of them over and you’ll see a snake’s tail coming out his ass. It’s the truth. Senator or landowner, estate lord or—male and female both, mind you—they all speak treason when they speak of the queen.”

“Do they plot?”

“Plot? Naw, they don’t plot. That requires more cunning than most of them have. I can’t say that any of them are a danger. Maybe Sigh himself, but he’d as soon marry Corinn as anything else. Drop his old wife in a second, he would. But so many of the Agnates are new blood. They don’t know how to be nobles yet. Before Hanish—back then, the court and the Senate were rife not just with snakes but with pit vipers. These new nobles—few of them have any venom in their bites. The hostages, for example. Back before Hanish, sending off noble sons and daughters never meant much. They expected it. Part of their burden. They’d love their heir right enough, but they wouldn’t lose sleep when Thaddeus Clegg plucked a child away to stay at court. These new Agnates, though, they worry, wonder what’s going on over at that academy, visit whenever they can. They’re just not used to their offspring being moved about like game pieces. The bitch played that right.” He leaned back, enjoying the smoke and looking ever more at ease. “Anyway, they mostly chew their gums. For the majority, life is better now than it was before Corinn ascended. They don’t want to upset that.”

Delivegu had flinched slightly at the word
bitch
. It’s just a word, he thought, a coarse word that shouldn’t be used in relation to Corinn, but nothing to comment on. As for the rest of his friend’s counsel, he would have to measure it later, for he was skeptical that the Agnates were as harmless as Yanzen thought. He had been too long in their company, perhaps. Although that was also why he might be right about them.

“And what about the common people?” Delivegu asked.

“Those they all worry about!”

“Does your master ever talk about Barad? Some call him Barad the Lesser, an agitator from Kidnaban.”

“Heard the name. Sigh disregards him. A man like him can’t see any commoner as a threat.”

“Most of them aren’t.”

Yanzen must have heard some gravity in Delivegu’s voice, for he pulled the pipe from his mouth and studied him. “You think Barad might be a threat?”

Delivegu tipped the dregs of the flagon into his mug. “His name has reached my ears. He worries me. He shouldn’t be important, and yet I feel he is.”

“Methinks you’re besotted,” Yanzen said. “What was it you said—’indispensable to the queen’ or some such? She is a swan that breaks your neck just as you’re about to compliment her on the beauty of her wings. Mind me on that. I don’t think she’s likely to bed you, either. Not even in the comfort of her own compound. From what I hear, she hates it that her brother took up with a commoner. She’s going to hate it even more soon. What do you think about the prince’s bastard to be?”

Delivegu had been about to drink. He paused, squinting one eye. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know?” When Delivegu did not answer immediately, Yanzen smiled. “You don’t, do you? That amuses me. I know something that you don’t. Came by it easily as well. Perhaps it’s worth something? Some reduction of my debt?”

“Anything is possible, if the information proves sound,” Delivegu said. Then he added, in clipped tones, “Tell me.”

H
e had already waited an hour on the staircase balcony when Delivegu finally heard someone descending toward him. As the person rounded the rock wall, he saw that it was Rhrenna, the queen’s assistant. Bit of a disappointment. She was not exactly pretty, a little thin lipped and pallid for his tastes. Still, he liked the lines of her neck and the delicate muscles etched there. Perhaps more than anything, he liked that she was such a close confidante of the queen. Sleeping with her might pale in comparison, but he would not turn her away in the right circumstances. He looked her up and down in a manner that conveyed this possibility to her. She showed no sign that she acknowledged it, but he knew better.

“Tell me, Rhrenna, do you ever miss your homeland? It’s a shame, don’t you think, that Mein Tahalian has been abandoned. Must be caved in and crushed beneath the snow and ice by now. And nearly all Meinish men massacred … That must trouble you. So few left to choose from. How is one to maintain racial purity in such circumstances? I trust you’ve learned by now that men of other races can fill in just—”

Rhrenna cut in, all cold business. “I will hear your message.” She kept her chin tilted upward. It was a nice chin, Delivegu decided. He thought about nibbling it, but that must wait for another time.

“Oh, I thought you were just here to make small talk with me,” Delivegu said. “I wrote to you saying to get the queen, and saying to make haste.” He let his eyes drift down from her face and linger on her bosom and slim waist. “Unless my eyes deceive me, you are not the queen, and I’ve been kept waiting about as long as I will wait. Get the queen, or you’ll be sorry you didn’t.”

“You don’t order me, much less the queen. What is your business? If I deem it merits the queen’s attention, I’ll speak to her about it.”

“Oh, come now. You know the queen meets with me! I’m in her trust.”

“I
am in her trust,” Rhrenna corrected. “You handle certain business for her when she summons you. You do not, however, summon
her
. If you assumed otherwise, be now corrected.”

Delivegu stepped nearer, close enough that he could smell the fragrant oils scenting her neck. “It’s no whim, dear girl, that brings me here.” Face turned to the side so that he had to study her askance, he whispered, “Likely, when you think of me at night it’s as a rogue, a bandit who sneaks into your room, perhaps, and—” Rhrenna jerked her head to turn away. His hand shot up and stopped her at the shoulder. “I wouldn’t disavow that. There’ll be time later. But right now, I swear to you, my lady, your mistress will want to know what I have to tell her. It’s about her family line.”

“Tell it to me, then,” Corinn said. She came around the corner and down the steps toward them. “And it had better be good. If not, I’ll take your impertinence as a sign that business is concluded.”

Delivegu stepped away from Rhrenna. He bowed low, holding the position, secure in the knowledge that the muscles of his shoulders and back strained against his thin shirt. He said, “Before you proclaim my doom, Your Majesty, consider my message. I could have shared it with your maid—”

“I am not a maid,” Rhrenna snapped.

“But the moment you heard it you’d call for me. Nor would you want it committed to paper, and I’d wager you’d not want to wait until we’d arranged another of those clandestine meetings.” He straightened, enjoying the word
clandestine
and drawing it out slightly. “I’ve only been anticipating your desires.” The royal visage remained dangerously annoyed. She was a viper, this one. He got to the point. “The lady your brother shares a bed with, Wren—she’s with child.”

The queen’s face went blank. She looked for a moment as if she were completely devoid of thought: her lovely head empty and his to fill. Delivegu kept his smile from showing.

“I see,” he said, “that you’re wondering how I come to know so much about the ways of a courtly lady. I can detail that for you.”

And he did. He left out any mention of Yanzen, and instead told a tale largely fabricated. His information originated with sources far too low and disreputable for Corinn even to know their names. Through these shifty agents he claimed to have learned of a prostitute—or whore, really, for this one was on the lower end of that profession—who had bragged about having certain knowledge about the prince’s consort. Apparently, her cousin worked in the house of a surgeon whose wife served as midwife to some of the wretched in the lower town. “It’s a bit complicated—the whole web—but bear with me.” How Wren came in contact with such a woman the whore could not say. Sought her out to keep the whole thing secret, he figured, far away from the palace. The whore swore that her cousin was in the very room when the midwife confirmed the girl’s pregnancy. In her opinion, the woman looked healthy, and there was no reason to think the child was in any danger at present. But there it was: the prince had a child on the way.

“The girl is thrilled. Wants the pup. Couldn’t get enough of rubbing her hands over her belly, even though she doesn’t show yet.” This last detail he had made up on the spot, but he imagined it wasn’t far from true.

Rhrenna was the first to speak. “This is not possible.”

“Why not? What makes it impossible?”

The queen turned and placed her hands atop the stone railing. The sun was low on the horizon and orange highlights touched her features. Her face was not blank anymore, but it was as unreadable as it was beautiful. When she spoke, she might have been addressing her assistant more than Delivegu. “Wren is not supposed to be able to get pregnant. A tincture mixed into her tea years ago took the capacity from her. Or so I was told.”

“That may yet be true,” the secretary said. “Wren has said nothing about this. How can we be sure this whore told the truth?”

Delivegu crossed one arm over his chest and stroked his beard with the fingers of his other hand. “Could be,” he said, pitching his voice as thoughtful, as if he were just now thinking it through with her encouragement, “that Wren doesn’t want you to know. I don’t know why that would be, but women have their reasons. As for the whore, well … I interrogated her.”

“How?” Rhrenna asked.

“You wouldn’t like to hear all of it.” He almost insisted that be his final answer, but he found himself speaking anyway. Something about shocking them—especially Rhrenna—excited him. “The end was this: I took her hand and spread it on the table and said that I’d take her fingers off one at a time until she told me the truth, until I believed her.”