Dangerous Gifts (6 page)

Rikkinnet snorted loudly enough that Malleay glared at her. “
And
,”he went on, “at the ceremonies there will be the guards of the other families, and the Palace’s own guard, that’s at
least
a hundred guards. Maybe more.”

“And who commands the loyalty of the Palace guard, and the guards of the rest of the Ten Families?” I said. “And what about the Ikinchli ceremony, the Enkantishak? Besides, I’ve dealt with political assassination before. Sometimes it’s done on the quiet, a knife in the bedchamber. Sometimes, it’s done in a big noticeable public way, to make a point. It’s the possibility you don’t think of that comes back to bite you. Also, I’d want to know exactly who would have access to her. Everyone. Family, friends, servants. Down to her old nurse.”

“Is that truly necessary?” Malleay said.

“People can be bribed. People can be threatened. And sometimes, people just change sides.”

Enthemmerlee’s hand rose, and touched her jaw, an odd, unhappy little gesture.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But the less trusting you are, the safer you’ll be. I’d need to know if anyone new had come into the household recently, too.”

Fain, damn him, was smiling smugly to himself. I began to wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

“Your overview seems comprehensive, Madam Steel,” Fain said. “And may I ask where you learned these skills?”

“A number of places, over a number of years. And I lost my first charge to a sneak attack. Not only did I not get paid, I nearly got killed as a result. And I had a soft spot for the gentleman. I regretted failing him. I learned.”

“I see. And did you lose any more?”

“Two.” I shrugged. “Advancement by assassination is hardly uncommon, whatever the plane.”

“How... how did you lose them?” Malleay said. Enthemmerlee simply watched me with those wide gold eyes.

“One in battle, when nothing I could say would prevent her riding out at the head of her troops, wearing extremely recognisable armour, and protocol prevented me from knocking her out and tying her up until she got some sense. Another... well. You know what I said about watching those closest to you? His brother. Close companion, trusted friend, just happened to have a much-loved wife who’d fallen into enemy hands. They promised they’d free her if he did the deed. They lied. Everyone died. A mess.”

“But you escaped,” Malleay said.

“Barely.” I’d exited via the garderobe with nothing but a short sword and the clothes I stood in, and spent too long running, stinking, scavenging and starving, until I was out of that unhappy kingdom.
Not
one of my pleasanter memories.

They looked at each other.

“Look,” I said, “even if I was to take the job, one can’t foresee everything. And it’s been a long time since I did this kind of work.
And
I don’t speak the language.”

“But mainly we speak Lithan, as you do here,” Enthemmerlee said. “The influence of the Perindi Empire.”

Damn.

“What about the Empire?” I said. “Do they have a finger in this pie?”

“They have a finger, but they don’t want to risk shoving their whole hand in,” Malleay said. “The Empire’s overstretched. So long as Incandress keeps the roads open, they’ll be happy enough to leave us be; Incandress may nominally be a satrapy, but the Empire hasn’t the resources to waste on forcing the issue. They’ll only do so if it seems a war might spill past our borders, and even then, they’d be pushed. They’ve got troops out in Belasia, the uprising in Lorf and the difficulties they’re facing with the Sanz-Rubolt Convocation. We could see a massive power-shift over the next three years. Imperator Locreint made a mistake naming a successor at this stage.”

He looked up, and blinked, as though surprised by his own sudden eloquence. “I keep my ears open,” he said.

“Malleay knows the international situation far better than the Advisors to the Crown,” Enthemmerlee said.

“The Crown. You have a... what, a king? A queen?” I said.

“Not for many decades. The Patineshi are known as Advisors to the Crown, that is all.”

Not that it mattered. What mattered was I wanted out of this more with every passing moment. I grasped at another straw. “What about magic? Can’t help you there.”

“Magic?” Enthemmerlee said.

“Magic. Do you have it on your plane? Does it work? If so, do you have anyone who can protect you from it? If not, you’d need to hire someone who can. That is, not me.”

“The magic on our plane is not dangerous,” Enthemmerlee said. “The Gudain cannot use it, and the magics used by the Ikinchli are...” She looked at Lobik. “Quiet ones.”

“Yes.” Lobik nodded. “Magic to fill the net and find safe passage. Not killing magic.”

“If there had been,” Rikkinnet said, “the history of Incandress would be a very different one.”

Fain broke the silence that followed. “Since there
are
working sorceries, someone determined enough might be able to use them. Many Fey magics work on a number of planes, for example. Don’t worry; we have someone we can make available to you.”

I glanced at Enthemmerlee. She smiled. “That is most kind,” she said. “Though I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Better to take the precaution, don’t you think?” Fain said.

I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t like the idea of someone whose first loyalty was to the Diplomatic Section being so close to Enthemmerlee; part, in fact, of her protection. However, I could hardly object, since I was the one who’d pointed out that
I
couldn’t protect her from magic. Oh, hells.

“Someone mentioned your family guard,” I said.

“They are useless,” Rikkinnet said. “And...” She looked at Enthemmerlee. “You
know
what I think.”

“Then perhaps Madam Steel should hear it too,” Enthemmerlee said.

“Very well. They are, mostly, dregs, captained by a drunk. Worse than useless, maybe dangerous. Gudain and Ikinchli both.”

“But they are the Entaire guard.” Enthemmerlee turned to me. “Among the Ten Families, one’s family guard are different from other servants. Guards are never dismissed, they receive a pension, they are part of the family. It is a tradition with the force of law.”

Lobik said, “Enthemmerlee, Rikkinnet is right. Maybe once they were not so bad, but you yourself have noticed the changes, hey?”

“Why not stay here, at least until the Patinarai?” I said. “You should be safe enough.” Fain, at least, wouldn’t be able to harm Enthemmerlee – I’d pushed him into taking an oath to that effect. In the normal way of things, you can trust an oath as much as any other promise from a politician, but this was a Fey oath. Once sworn, they insist on being fulfilled, one way or another. I doubted he’d forgiven me for that yet.

“The ball is officially a social occasion, but in fact, it is politically necessary. It is vital I attend the Ikinchli Enkantishak – not to do so would be a dreadful insult – and even after Patinarai, I will still need a guard.”

“You will not hire others?” Lobik said.

“No. I will not,” Enthemmerlee said. “I will not dishonour those who have done no wrong, who have, by all custom and tradition, the right to a decent living and an honourable retirement under the protection of my house.”

“Enthemmerlee...” Malleay said.

“I have told you my decision,” Enthemmerlee said.

Her three companions exchanged glances. Rikkinnet gave a small, sinuous shrug. “You are the Itnunnacklish,” she said.

“Yes. I am also about to become the head of my household, and in this respect, that is more important. This is what I would ask of you, Madam Steel: that you would try to improve my guard to the point where my friends will cease worrying me on this subject.”

“Wait,” I said. “You want me to train the guard from useless to the point where they can protect you from assassination,
while
looking after you, in, what, a few days? Sorry, but that’s not possible.” It might have been, once, but I’d been an Avatar then. I could turn a man into a potential general with a few rousing words. Not any more.

And, of course, I’d have to be doing whatever other duties Fain required of me in the spying line. Something for which I simply could not fathom why he seemed to think I was qualified.

Fain sat back and steepled his hands under his chin. “You will, of course, be adequately compensated, Madam Steel.”

“How adequately?” I said.

“Very,” said Fain. “Very adequately.”

“This is no time to be coy, Mr Fain.”

He named a sum that was a substantial amount more than I could usually make whoring in the same time. Enough to be tempting. I wondered how carefully he’d calculated it. To the last penny, knowing him. He had an unpleasant habit of knowing exactly what state my finances were in, and of course he knew what my rates were – not that he’d ever indulged.

Pity, that.

But still, it felt... wrong.

You sell sword long enough, and survive, and you get some sense for a bad job. It may be nothing much: the way the patron stands, or the way their subordinates look when they walk into a room, or a certain quiet among the guards. It may be no more than a feel in the air.

That feel was draping itself around my shoulders like a chilly fog. And there was that silvery powder around the doorframe.

Enthemmerlee leaned forward and fixed me with those beautiful eyes. “The Itnunnacklish is a symbol, yes. But it is an important one. If I become Patinate, I will represent the union of two peoples who are in danger of tearing each other apart. It is only a start – there is a great deal of work to be done – but if I can survive long enough to begin the work, long enough, even, for people to see what my existence actually means, to see the possibilities for their own futures, then...” She leaned back in her chair. “Then, perhaps, there is hope.” She suddenly sounded very young, and very tired.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish I could help you. But you need more than me. You need at least one dedicated bodyguard,
and
a trainer, and if your own guards are not merely bad, but, as it sounds, possibly untrustworthy...” I left it there.

“If it is money,” Fain said, “more can be found.”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

“You will not reconsider?” Enthemmerlee said. “Please.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.” I didn’t want to look at her, or at any of them. I pushed myself to my feet. “I wish you the best, but I’m not the person you need. I hope you find people. Try Bressler.”

I saw their faces despite myself. Malleay looked vindicated; Lobik was leaning towards Enthemmerlee with concern; Enthemmerlee herself had lowered her head, as though she was too tired even to keep it steady on her neck. The one who seemed most upset by my decision was Rikkinnet, who was glaring. Then she shrugged and turned away, which was worse.

Fain, unreadable as ever, stood up with swift grace and said, “Would you excuse us for just a moment?”

He unlocked the door and ushered me ahead of him. I clamped my fingers around the little bottle of anti-lust potion in my pocket, just in case he was planning to try a bit of extra persuasion.

He ushered me into another room with a very thick door, and locked this one too; I saw the same faint dusty shimmer around the frame as I’d seen on the meeting room door.

There was a delicately pretty desk of some rich reddish wood, a matching armchair and couch upholstered in worn green velvet, a low table with a rather lovely tea set in scarlet and gold porcelain.

Fain gestured me to take a seat.

“No. I’m not staying.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“It isn’t a change of heart. I never promised anything other than to listen.”

“True.”

“If you’re planning to try that little trick of yours...”

“Since you have already proved yourself immune to my charms, Babylon, I have no intention of trying any such thing.”

“Who says I’m immune to your charms?” He blinked, and I felt a brief triumph that I had, for once, managed to surprise him. “I just don’t like them artificially enhanced for the purpose of messing with my ability to think. Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I don’t want to take this job, however much money you throw at me.”

“Why not?”

“Because my gut doesn’t like it. And I have a lot of respect for my gut, it’s in the habit of keeping me alive.”

“I hope that your gut is, on this occasion, overanxious.”

“I don’t think so. Something’s wrong, isn’t it? In the Section.”

His gaze sharpened as though on a whetstone. “Now what would give you that idea?”

“The fact that you’re after me, an outsider, and no damn diplomat, to do this.
Again.
The fact that you’re locking every door in what’s probably the most secure building in Scalentine, and there were what looked like wards on the meeting room door as well. This does not bode well for anyone you’ve hired, Mr Fain. I don’t need arrows aimed at my back as well as my front.”

He looked down and straightened one of the cups on the tray. “I can say that I need someone on Incandress that I trust.”

“I thought you had a magician?”

“The Scholar in question would not have been my first choice, had circumstances allowed, and he is not excessively experienced. You are.”

“I’m experienced at surviving. I’d prefer to continue doing so. It sounds to me like there’s a civil war brewing in Incandress; in a situation like that,
anything
can happen. I doubt that one person can make much difference to the outcome. Especially if there are other influences trying to mess things up.”

“That’s not what Enthemmerlee believes.”

“I admire her. I’m
not
her. Why is the Diplomatic Section suddenly so interested in Incandress anyway?”

“It’s on a major trade route. Our situation on Scalentine makes the free flow of goods uniquely important; civil war would disrupt that. And an unstable situation anywhere close to the portals by which we connect to the other planes is something on which we wish to keep a very close eye indeed.”

“But it’s not as though anything really dodgy could get through, is it?”

The portals to Scalentine prevent anyone coming through with big armies or really powerful magic, and they stop the worst infectious diseases. It makes it a good place to run a whorehouse. It also makes it the ultimate in buffer states, and extremely useful as neutral ground on which to trade and conduct the kind of political negotiations better done outside all parties’ home territories. But they’ve learned not to send negotiators who have a case of the sniffles.