Duel of Fire (Steel and Fire Book 1) (18 page)

“I don’t think we need to bore our young friend here. And some things needn’t be discussed in mixed company.” Zage’s whispery voice made it sound as if he were speaking through smoke. He wore all black, like the last time Dara had seen him, and the silver leaf pin glinted at his throat.

“Of course not,” Chala said slowly. He adjusted his collar again, his hands moving nervously.

“Join us for a drink, Warden?” Siv asked. He scooted closer to Lady Tull to make room on the couch.

“I have business to attend to with my associates,” Zage said. “My prince, where is your bodyguard?”

Siv shrugged, reaching for his wine goblet. “Pool’s around here somewhere. Probably making eyes at Lady Atria.”

“I see,” Zage said softly. “You would do well to be careful.”

“I always am!”

Zage studied the prince for a moment before saying good-bye to the others. His dark eyes flitted to Dara before he joined the Fireworkers at the center table. She shivered. The Fire Warden seemed awfully interested in whether or not Siv had a guard. She wished the prince hadn’t told him about Pool’s preoccupation with Lady Atria.

“He’s a good man, Zage,” the prince said when the Fire Warden was out of earshot. He moved a mijen tile, opening himself up for Dara to take a few of his tiles. “But he has a hard time relaxing.”

“Another round?” Chala said. He frowned at the table and gave Dara an appraising look. There was no way he could catch up to her score now. “I spend enough time worrying about the Fireworkers. Not another word of business.” He waved his arm for another bottle of wine, and soon everyone had a full goblet. Dara didn’t even need hers topped up. She didn’t like wine much more than ale. At least she had won the game.

Bolden called for a toast, and Dara held her goblet up with everyone else.

“To wine, friends, and the two ladies who have graced us with their presence,” Bolden said. He nodded at Dara and Lady Tull, keeping his eyes on the latter as he sipped from his goblet.

“And to me!” said another voice behind them. “Can’t start the toasts without me.”

“Kelad!” Bolden said.

Dara spun to see that her friend had arrived. He wore finer clothes than usual. If she was not mistaken, the red and black embroidered into his silk coat were the colors of House Rollendar. Bolden stood and clapped Kel on the back.

“It’s the man of the hour,” Bolden said. “Kelad won me a pile of firestones in the Eventide Open. Finished in the top four. It almost made up for his dismal performance in the Square Tourney.”

Kel shrugged. “I’ll never live that one down.”

Bolden kept his hand on Kel’s shoulder in a proprietary manner and turned to the others.

“I don’t think you’ve met Prince Sivarrion before. Kelad Korran, may I present the heir-prince and future Fourth King, Sivarrion Amintelle. And you know us, his faithful lackeys.” There was something mocking in Bolden’s tone. Dara hadn’t imagined it.

Kel bowed to Siv and the others. Then his eyes fell on Dara.

“That is not Dara Ruminor in a dress, with a drink in her hand. I must have died and waltzed into the realm of the Firelord.”

“Hey Kel,” Dara mumbled, blushing. “Not a word of this to the guys.”

“Have you seen this girl duel?” Kel said. He raised his voice a bit, and people at the other tables looked over. “This is the second coming of Surri herself. Did you know she runs all the way across Furlingbird Bridge from Village to Square every single day? Sometimes twice! She trains harder than any other duelist on the mountain.”

“Including you?” someone shouted from another table.

“Half the mountain trains harder than me!” Kel called. “No, Dara Ruminor is the duelist you’ll be telling your kids about in twenty years. She’s the real thing. A round on me in honor of Dara Ruminor!”

“Hear, hear!” Siv called immediately, and the others followed his lead. Siv winked at Dara and whispered, “He knows how it’s done.”

During Kel’s speech she had being sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. If the patrons in the parlor hadn’t paid attention to her before, they would now. She wished she could act as nonchalant about the attention as Kel did. She’d still rather have a sword than a goblet of wine in her hand.

Kel plopped down on the couch between Dara and the prince.

“Want to spot me the gold for the round, Dara?”

“I—”

“Just kidding,” Kel said. “I won at cards earlier. I’m good for it.”

“Was that necessary?” she asked.

Kel picked up Dara’s goblet and took a long sip. “It’s high time you got noticed by the right people, Dar. That’s what it takes if you really want a patron.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her!” Siv said. “That’s why I brought her here tonight. You did my job a lot more efficiently, though.”

If Kel was surprised to have the prince of Vertigon congratulating him, he covered it well.

“She needs to be a more dynamic duelist too,” Kel said. “Patrons love that.”

“Exactly,” Siv said. He leaned around Kel, eyes bright. “See, Dara. This’ll work. We’ve been going over some new moves.”

“New moves, eh?” Kel raised an eyebrow at Dara.

Lady Tull touched Siv’s arm, pulling his attention away from the two duelists. Kel waited until Siv was fully engaged in conversation with the comely widow before turning back to Dara and hissing in her ear.

“What in the name of the deepest gorge are you doing here with Prince Sivarrion of all people? And what does he mean you’ve been working on moves?”

“I’ve been dueling with him,” Dara said.

“Dueling,” Kel said flatly. “With Sivarrion. The future Fourth King. And now you’re drinking wine and schmoozing with lords and ladies? What’s gotten into you?”

“Berg asked me to,” Dara said, fiddling with the folds of her skirt. “The prince needed a training partner.”

“You’re partners now? When were you going to tell me?”

“It was supposed to be sort of a secret,” Dara whispered. “Coach Berg offered me free lessons in exchange. He thinks the prince needs to take dueling more seriously for his own safety.”

“Berg’s a head case, but that’s not the point.” Kel looked over at the prince, who was still deep in conversation with Lady Tull. “The cur-dragon is obviously out of the bag. You could have told me in the spirit of our long friendship. I almost had a heart attack when I saw you here.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed,” Dara said. “Parlors aren’t usually for me, but he thinks I should try to become friends with potential sponsors.”

“He’s right about that,” Kel said. “Though I’ll warn you that a friend who pays for your living is never quite the same.” He finished off Dara’s wine and waved for another goblet. “I can’t believe this. Oat and I thought you might have a secret lover because you’re late to practice so often now.” Kel’s eyes widened. “Wait. He’s not your secret—”

“No! Of course not.”

“You sure? He’s going to a lot of effort to—”

“I’m sure.”

Dara looked past Kel to make sure Siv hadn’t heard them. The prince was still engrossed in whatever Lady Tull was saying. Tull laughed and laid a hand on Siv’s arm. Dara felt a painful twinge in her stomach, but she ignored it.

“Well, this has made my night,” Kel said as a servant appeared with a goblet for him and refilled Dara’s wine as well.

“Please don’t tell Oat,” Dara said. “He’s looking for a patron too, and I don’t want him to think I’m holding out on him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kel said. “I tried to get him in with Bolden, but he’s not a fun enough drinking buddy for the tastes of our young lord.”

Bolden was talking to Chala on the opposite side of the table, the game of tiles forgotten. He kept looking at Siv and Tull out of the corner of his eye. Chala was making some sort of business pitch, but Bolden barely listened. He interrupted Chala to call for something stronger than wine, his attention still focused on the widow and the prince. Lady Tull was playing with the fabric of Siv’s coat now. The sight made Dara feel slightly sick. She took another sip of her newly refilled wine, but the taste wasn’t getting any better.

“Hopefully I’ll do well enough in the Cup to get a patron even if all this stuff doesn’t work out,” Dara said.

“You’ll be fine, Dar.” Kel drained his goblet in one gulp. Dara raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged and said, “I’ve got some catching up to do with my liege.”

Dara wondered whether Kel really enjoyed Lord Bolden’s company. On the one hand, Kel got to visit exclusive back-room parlors, but he had little choice in the matter. He was essentially singing for his supper. Every patron expected something different for their support. It was Kel’s responsibility to be good entertainment and good company for the young lord.

“Speaking of patrons,” Kel said, keeping his voice low, “if you and the prince are so chummy, have you considered asking him to sponsor you?”

“The royal family never sponsors duelists.”

“There’s a first time for everything. He’s got the gold.”

“No.” Dara didn’t hesitate. The idea had crossed her mind once, but once was enough. “I’m not asking him for money. We’re training partners. At least inside the dueling hall, we’re on an equal footing. I’ll help him become a better duelist, and he’ll help me do whatever it is we’re doing here, but that’s it.” Dara did not want to start down the path of accepting money from Siv. Somehow, she knew it would change things between them.

Kel glanced at Bolden. “Understood.”

15.

The Bridge

AS
the hour grew late, the revelers trickled out of the parlor, many of them swaying and stumbling. Kel and Bolden left with their arms around each other’s shoulders, singing loud drinking songs. Dara made Kel swear not to tell anyone about her and the prince, but she wasn’t sure he’d remember in the morning. Chala curled up on a couch beneath his traveling cloak, determined to stay the night with his arm wrapped around a bottle of wine. When Lady Tull rose to go, Siv kissed her hand and offered her an elegant bow. He sauntered over to speak to the Fire Warden, who hovered in the corner like a dark bird, while Dara searched for her cloak.

She found Pool sitting on a bench in the entryway with his arms wrapped around Lady Atria. Atria sat partway on top of Dara’s cloak, but she didn’t seem to notice Dara waiting politely beside them. Pool and Atria kissed in the half-light from the lanterns, making wet smacking sounds. Feeling embarrassed, Dara cleared her throat a few times to get their attention, but they didn’t budge. Finally, she grasped the edge of her cloak and tugged on it until Atria shifted onto Pool’s lap and the cloak popped loose.

She returned to the underground parlor, where Siv was taking leave of Zage.

“I’m just going to walk my dueling partner to the bridge,” Siv was saying.

“Take care, my prince,” Zage said. “The night is dark, even on the Fire Mountain.”

“Never fear,” Siv said, throwing his arms wide. “I’ll be bright-eyed as a burrlinbat at our next lesson.”

“Farewell, then.”

Siv lurched slightly as he joined Dara at the door. Zage’s eyes glittered in the semi-darkness behind him. Once she was sure the prince was following, she hurried up the steps, wanting to get away from Zage as soon as possible.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” Dara said.

“Nonsense,” Siv said. “I could use a bit of fresh mountain air. Where’s Pool?”

“He and Lady Atria are . . . busy.”

“You don’t say? He’s been pining after her for ages.”

They walked toward the front of the greathouse together. Siv grinned widely when they reached Pool and Atria.

“Pool!” he shouted.

Immediately, Pool leapt up, his face smeared with Atria’s red lip stain.

“My prince! I am at your service, ready to defend your life at every moment, Sire!”

“Sit back down, Pool,” Siv said. “We’re just walking to Fell Bridge. Take your time, and catch up to us.”

“My prince, I couldn’t possibly—”

“I’ve got one of the best duelists in Vertigon with me,” Siv said, forcing Pool back down on the bench with both hands. “Say a proper good-bye, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Yes, my prince. I will take my leave of my most benevolent and sublime lady and join you shortly.”

“As you were.” Siv chuckled as he and Dara headed out the door.

It was the hour past midnight. The street outside the parlor was empty. Siv and Dara’s footsteps tapped a quiet music in the stillness as they passed the elaborate gates of the Fire Warden’s house. They walked side by side, closer together than they had before. Something about the dark and the night made it seem like the right thing to do.

“Thank you for the invitation tonight, my prince,” Dara said.

“You’re starting to sound like Pool,” Siv said. He began to hum tunelessly, his steps weaving a bit.

“No, really, I had a lovely time.”

“Sorry you didn’t like the wine.”

“I don’t like any wine,” Dara said. “It makes morning training sessions easier, at least.”

“Well, I’ll be at practice tomorrow no matter what,” Siv said.

“I know. You’ve been working hard over the past few weeks.”

“Have to stay ahead of Berg’s mythical assassins, don’t I?” Siv smiled, his prominent cheekbones carving strong shadows on his face. His eyes shone bright in the moonlight, and his meandering steps brought him a hair closer to her. Dara looked down to avoid his gaze, but she didn’t pull away from him.

The streets of Lower King’s were deserted, and as they strode through the darkness together it felt as if they were the only two people on the mountain. Mist and quiet drifted around them as they crossed Thunderbird Square and approached Fell Bridge. There was no sign of the bridge guard, except for a single light burning in the window of his house. The stillness was eerie. Pool should have caught up to them by now.

“Lady Tull was nice,” Dara said to fill the silence.

Siv looked at her sharply.

“What makes you say that?”

“She seemed to enjoy your company, that’s all.”

Siv was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed. “Lady Tull is the head of a powerful house,” he said. “A rich house.”