Dangerous Gifts (36 page)

Nowhere to be seen, dammit. What was he up to? Distancing himself from any association with me? And did it mean the Fey oath was wearing off? Without that and without a trained bodyguard, I didn’t like to imagine the situation Enthemmerlee would be left in.

“And that the accused did engage in corrupt practices with another person outside of the marital state...”

“No,” Enthemmerlee said. “No. This is outrageous behaviour towards a citizen of another country. The Statutes only apply to Gudain!”

“The Statutes apply to all who are capable of being restrained by them,” the Fenac said. “Whether or not they’re a
foreigner
.”

I was beginning to feel fairly annoyed. And the way the little sleazelet was looking at me wasn’t helping. But I didn’t think battering my way through them was going to help Enthemmerlee.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m sure everything can be sorted out. Just tell me where I’m supposed to have been improperly dressed.”

“When answering the door to members of the household,” he said. “Now let’s have any weapons you’re carrying, please.”

It must have been the night the Ikinchli had turned up, and Captain Tantris had come to fetch me. Had he been spreading the word? Or one of the guards who’d been with him? The guard, what was I going to do about the guard?

They wouldn’t be able to look after Enthemmerlee. They were better, but they weren’t
good,
and with someone deliberately getting me out of the way...

“Wait,” Enboryay said.

“I remind your lordship that under the Moral Statutes I am empowered to arrest any member of a household who attempts to obstruct or impede me in the performance of my duties,” he said. Gosh, he was proud of all those big words; I wondered who’d taught them to him.

“Lady Enthemmerlee,” I said.

She looked at me, eyes wide with distress, but her voice was calm and clear. “Madam Steel,” she said. “This is a disgrace, for which I apologise for my countrymen. You must think us quite barbaric. I assure you every effort will be made to sort out this
misunderstanding.
”

The Fenac commander gave a snort of contempt. I calmed myself by planning the exact pattern of bruising I was going to leave on his slimy little hide, the minute I got the chance. “Lady Enthemmerlee, I think I’m going to have to go along with this... person. Please take care of yourself.” I thought as fast as I could. “Rikkinnet, you’ve ambassadorial privileges. Talk to Fain. Maybe, between you, you can do something to get me out. But in the meantime, Enthemmerlee is your first priority. I’ve been locked up before, I’ll survive.”

Bergast, who I’d forgotten about in the confusion, was standing with his mouth open. “Scholar Bergast!”

“Yes?” He was round-eyed as a child. I wondered if his briefing had covered the possibility of being thrown in stir. Maybe he thought it didn’t happen to people like him.

“Just do your job, Bergast.”

“I...”

The Fenac, who was obviously getting annoyed at being ignored, drew his sword. He hadn’t had it out until now; sloppy. More used to dealing with intimidated Ikinchli who weren’t allowed edged weapons, presumably. Good.

“Enough chat,” he said. “Let’s have those weapons. All of ’em.”

“Very well.”

I unslung my shield, and handed it to Rikkinnet, followed by my sword and dagger, and the arm-knife.

“Now, you can’t give them to her,” the Fenac said. “Scalys don’t get to carry edged weapons.”

“
She
is the Ikinchli Ambassador to Scalentine, and I am a citizen of Scalentine,” I said. “I am trusting the Ambassador with the property of a Scalentine citizen, to be returned through the proper diplomatic channels. I don’t know if you know Scalentine, but they have
very
strong ideas about property. They get extremely touchy if they think their citizens are being robbed.” I was bullshitting for all I was worth, hoping that the thought of annoying a neighbouring country might get him worried – or, at least, confused.

“Quite right,” Fain said,
finally
appearing in the doorway. He was still pale, and his arm was in a sling. “After all, who will trade with a country where the property of any passing foreigner may be appropriated at any moment?”

The Fenac commander became aware that he was in danger of treading on the toes of the rich and powerful. He waved a hand. “Well, don’t blame me if she goes off and murders someone with ’em.”

“I should also mention,” Fain said, “that Scalentine feels very strongly about the treatment of its citizens while in custody. Very strongly indeed. If Madam Steel should happen to suffer any accident, I fear there will be
consequences
.” He let a little bit of the real Darask Fain show through then; well, one of them, anyway. The commander dropped back a step. That was probably all the help the Diplomatic Section was going to be able to give me, but it was better than nothing.

“Right. Hands,” the commander said.

“What exactly do you want me to do with them?” I said.

“Hold ’em out and don’t try and be funny.”

I held out my hands, and he bound a chain around them. I felt my skin shrink from the touch of it as he led me away, to the coach waiting in the courtyard.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

P
RISONS ARE NEVER
pleasant. The type of stink varies a little depending on which species get put in the cells most, and how often the buckets or the straw are changed. This one was better than some I’ve been in, maybe because it was in the base of the Advisory Hall and they didn’t want the stink rising to disturb the nostrils of government. Talk about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

It looked as though it had once been a set of cellars. I wondered if they’d kept wine in them; I couldn’t half have done with a glass. After all, I was off duty. Possibly permanently. The cells, barred cages that had been set into the alcoves, were full of Ikinchli, some of them no more than children. Their eyes glowed in the dim light, watching, as I was marched past them.

There were five or six miserable-looking Gudain in a cage by themselves. No sign of Daryellee. Members of the Ten Families perhaps got a special cell, upstairs; or maybe she had been sent home with a stern word, if that.

I found it hard to care. It was the chains. How I hated the chains. The cold weight made me shudder.

The Fenac gave me a cage to myself. I don’t think they knew what else to do with me.

“Hey,” I said. “The chains?” I didn’t like the way my voice sounded, weak. But it was the feel of them, of being bound that way. My skin seemed to shrink around me in anticipation of pain.

“The chains?” one of them said. “Oh, you don’t like the chains, eh?”

“Come on,” I said, trying not to let my voice shake. Almost succeeding. “Please. What am I going to do?” At that moment I didn’t know myself. I could hardly think straight.
This is not Tiresana. There is no pillar of adamant for them to bind you to; Shakanti is not waiting for the moon to rise so she can play with your pain.

But my skin was unconvinced.

They didn’t take them off. They searched me in the most perfunctory fashion, without actually touching my flesh at any point. I still had a knife on my thigh, my modesty – such as it was – and not a lot else.

Tired, smoke-coloured light drizzled in through the high window slits. Two Fenac I didn’t remember seeing before sat at a table, pushing counters about, occasionally glancing over at the cages. The other prisoners shifted and whispered.

I shuffled some straw into a pile as best I could with my feet, and sat down. Things skittered in the corners. I hoped they were rats, not beetles.

“Hey,” one of the prisoners whispered. “Hey, you the one who was with the Itnunnacklish?”

“Who wants to know?”

“You think she’s real?”

“For what it’s worth, I think she is.”

“’Course that one think she’s real,” someone else hissed. “Get paid, hey?”

“I get paid to use my sword, not to lie about what I think,” I said, and yawned helplessly. I hadn’t slept much the last few days. In fact, it felt as though I hadn’t slept much for weeks. Despite the crawling sensation the chains gave me, suddenly I wanted nothing more than to lie down, whatever was lurking in the straw.

“You think she’s the Itnunnacklish, you supposed to guard her, but you get yourself arrested. Maybe you Gudain after all, not give half a shit.”

“I give,” I said. “I give plenty of shit.” I yawned again. “Trust me.”

If whoever it was answered, I didn’t hear. Sleep grabbed me like a drowning man, and took me under.

I
WOKE CLUTCHING
for balance, utterly confused, certain I was falling. I couldn’t get hold of anything, my hands were still chained.

I sat up and tried to ease the stiffness out of my joints. The tiny window was black; it was night. How long had I slept? The Ikinchli in the cages either side watched me, some warily, some with interest, some just with the blank gaze of people with nothing else to look at and nowhere else to go. A lot of them were bruised.

“Hey, Curves,” one of the Ikinchli males said. He was a chunky sort, with wide, muscular shoulders. There were stains on his face I realised were probably dried blood, and his grin showed a missing tooth.

“Hey, Muscles. Do we get fed in this place?”

“Once a day.” He tilted his head. “You missed it. Terrible
guak.
Youwouldn’t like. Next time I eat it for you.”

“Generous of you,” I said.

I desperately needed a piss, and realised that there was, actually, a degree of privacy; a curve of wall with a bucket behind it. The wall was high enough to conceal me from the shoulders down. Gudain ideas of modesty again, I supposed.

“Hey,” I said. “Hey, mister.”

“What?”

“I need...” I jerked my head towards the wall. “And I can’t, you know, with these things on.” I turned my back, shook my chained wrists, looked at them over my shoulder. I’m not great at winsome, but I made a stab at it. “Come on, give a girl a break, what do you say?”

The Fenac looked at each other.

“All right,” one of them growled. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

I don’t know what they’d been told about me, but they were pretty cautious; and of course, they were on edge. The Ikinchli weren’t the only ones with bruises, and one of the Fenac had had a clump of hair torn out, leaving an ugly, crusting wound.

Five of them came in, one dealt with the chains, and the others held sharp objects close to bits of me I didn’t want punctured.

They waited while I used the bucket. I checked my thigh-knife, but left it where it was.

At least they rechained my hands in front of me. I wondered what the hells had made them so nervous; none of the other prisoners were chained as well as locked up. Maybe my reputation had preceded me. It was obviously a more impressive one than I realised. Three I could have handled – maybe. But five, with another three waiting outside and on the alert for trouble, not to mention the guards upstairs... No.

I wondered what they planned for me. A trial? To make me disappear? That might prove awkward, Fain having made it clear that eyes were being kept on me.

Not impossible, though. Just awkward.

So I sat, and thought, and watched the Fenac. Those baggy brown uniforms had a bit of stiffening around the neck, like the internal ruff of Gudain fashion, but smaller. It probably meant the throat was fairly well protected. Couldn’t tell if they were wearing groin-guards – the material was too loose and puffy. They had helmets, low and round with a small brim, held on with a chinstrap. No noseguard – hmm. Short, efficient-looking swords. They were still playing their game, but they glanced up every now and then. They looked alert. And they were both Gudain. The chances of using a few wiles to persuade either of them to get close enough to give me an advantage was pretty minimal; even when they’d been ‘searching’ me, they hadn’t taken the opportunity for fondling, though that might just mean they had more sense than first appeared.

The Ikinchli ceremony, the Enkantishak, was the following day. Would Enthemmerlee take the Household Guard with her? Better them than nothing, but All preserve us, that could go so very wrong.

Now I’d slept, and had nothing to do
but
think, my mind began to pick through the last few days like a bird fossicking in the undergrowth, turning over every leaf and twig.

Because my gut was yelling at me again. Something was up, something was wrong, something much more than my being locked up.

I’d missed something. I knew it.

I stared at the Fenac, until one of them clocked and glared at me in that gaoler’s
stop looking at me or I’ll come over there and make you regret it
way. Funny, the way you can feel someone’s look on the back of your neck.

I’d felt it leaving Malleay’s room. Someone had been watching. The person who’d accused me of breaking the Moral Statutes? Whoever they were, they wanted me out of the way.

The captain? He’d certainly seen me in a state of undress, but it seemed unlikely he’d know about Malleay. In fact, the only person other than Malleay who could possibly have any idea was whoever had been watching that night.

The nearest room was Selinecree’s. But... Selinecree? She didn’t seem likely. The mere fact that someone in her household had been accused, surely, would be an embarrassment. More scandal, more gossip...

Fain? Could he have wanted me out of the way? Why?

All I could think was that when Laney turned up, if I wasn’t there, he’d have a better chance of persuading her to take off the oath – or so he might think. But he wanted Enthemmerlee alive, and she had a slightly better chance of that with me around. Fey oaths... Well, they’re not infallible, from what I understand. They’ll do their best to be fulfilled, but in the end all they really do is tip the odds.

And for all I knew, Laney had already turned up. It was more than time. She could already have undone the oath. If she knew where I was, she’d probably come racing in to sort everything out... but she’d be walking into a bunch of Gudain not only immune to her seductions, but with an automatic prejudice against foreigners. And in a building full of iron.