Authors: Vera Nazarian
“
Stop that man!” she cried. “Thief!” (Knowing that if she said “murderer,” no one would dare.)
In a group ahead, several heads turned her way, staring with little comprehension, and she realized, to her great annoyance, that they were foreigners who did not speak the Tongue.
I am forgetting what district this is. Damn! So easy to lose a man here! No one would even understand
.
She was very close to him now, her breath catching in her throat, so she whipped out the dagger at her belt. People continued staring at her oddly, and at the other racing man-figure. Most moved out of their way.
Just as the man reached the end of the square, and was about to enter the side street, a huge produce cart rolled slowly out of the street, but only after the man dodged by it, accompanied by the surprised curse of the driver. At least this one’s words were in the Tongue.
Ranhé wanted to howl in frustration. The cart slowed, then stopped, obstructing her way.
“
Out of my way, son of
mkharshak!
I am a leper madwoman!” she cried at him, and brandished her dagger. The poor man’s eyes bulged in sudden fear, and he futilely attempted to speed up the cart.
“
Y-you! Don’t touch me!” he cried. “Get away! Get away from my fruit!”
“
I spit on your fruit!” she retorted, quickly edging past him, finding herself within the narrow street.
Too late. There was no sign of the assassin. The alley had swallowed him. No matter how long she might search now, he could be hiding anywhere here, in any one of these crowded houses, or behind fences, with their millions of winding ways. Breathing heavily, Ranhé stood watching the gray-shadowed street, angry at herself more than anything. She had let the bastard get away.
Ranhé replaced the dagger at her belt, then quickly made her way back to where they had stopped near the Gates, at the City House.
And on the way back, she considered it.
Yes, this was an unrelated accident. And yet, my lord has enemies. I wonder
. . . .
When she returned, it was, at first glance, as if nothing had happened. Elasand, with a closed expression, was paying off Milhas. Pheyl’s eyes, on the other hand, were still bulging fearfully, and he took his fifty
dahr
with the quickness of someone who wanted to run and relieve himself around the corner. He managed a crooked smile and a low nod to the aristocrat.
Elas was gracious in parting. This made Pheyl Milhas smile wider, now that the money was all his. “Thank you, m’lord, thanks very much, ‘twas pleasure working for you.”
But Elas had already turned away, seeing Ranhé.
“
I’m sorry,” she said. “It was impossible to catch him.”
He looked at her more closely, more seriously than ever before. She could see it in the way his eyes appeared fully awake, as though he had just seen her for the first time.
For a moment, he did not speak. Then he said, “I didn’t expect you to catch him. After everything else you’ve done for me.”
She watched him.
“
Do you realize,” he said, “that you saved my life just now? And that first time, yesterday—you have most probably saved my life also, and had surely saved my aunt and cousin. And earlier today, you’ve performed a service outside your duties.”
Ranhé glanced away, seeing from the corner of her eye the carriage window curtains parted, and two faces watching them.
She shrugged.
“
That man was not trying to kill me,” Elas continued, while fingering with disdain the murderous throw-disk. “And he is not associated with Bilhaar. There are no markings on this deadly thing that might give any clue. I just happened to be in his way, and his aim was bad. But—I have several different enemies.”
“
I inferred that much,” said Ranhé.
He chose to ignore the sarcasm. There was that new earnest look on his face. He continued, “And with so much potential trouble, someone like myself needs particular loyalty. Well, then. You, Ranhéas Ylir, appear more trustworthy than anything I’ve encountered for a long time.”
“
Thank you, my lord. May I use you for references, in case I need to engage in self-adulation before my next employer?”
She regretted it immediately. This was definitely not her customary polished manner.
“
I am glad I was able to please,” she continued, trying to regain her equilibrium. “But I’ve allowed that trash to escape. Inexcusable. I’ve kept you alive, but I can’t guarantee it for the future.”
“
Now, that’s ridiculous. Nothing can be guaranteed. My good Ranhé, you are a perfectionist,” said Elas, smiling. “Why don’t you relax? Especially that now I’m trying to offer you a more or less permanent employment.”
Ranhé’s face lost all expression. “I am relaxed, just out of breath from chasing that son of a bitch,” she said. “And I don’t
take
permanent employment.” She spoke slowly, carefully, pronouncing every word with extra clarity.
“
Why?” he taunted, suddenly angry with her in the same animated way in which only moments ago he was expressing gratitude. “Do I distress you somehow? I’ve noticed, yes. Do I frighten you? What exactly is it about me?”
Her strongest weapon at such instances had always been honesty.
“
In truth, I cannot say,” she replied, glancing away. When she returned to look at him again, she was changed.
He watched, impassive, waiting.
“
I am,” said Ranhé, “a strange sort. You might not realize it yet, but I’m telling you now, in a way, warning you, not to estimate me in any normal way. I am—a self-proclaimed everything. At the moment, your hired guard. At another, I might be someone else. Anyone. Anything.”
He watched her.
“
You don’t quite understand, I see,” she continued. “As I said, I don’t take permanent employment. Ever.”
“
Why not?” he said coldly.
“
Because I do as I please. I work to
amuse
myself. That’s the only stimulus. All is temporary, and I am fickle. I only work for people who amuse or interest me. Or for jobs that involve interesting complications.”
He smiled. “Then I should be complimented that for a time I managed to amuse you enough, mistress Ylir.”
“
Ah . . .” she said. “Then maybe you’ll understand why I must refuse your offer.”
“
No, actually, I don’t,” he said, interested more than ever.
“
I am saying, my Lord Elasand-re, that this association of ours has gone too far. The initial curiosity has burned out.”
“
I don’t believe you for a moment,” he said.
“
Then believe this. From the first instant, it had been unbearable for me. I’m bound and stifled, and I want to be rid of you now, if you would forgive my saying so. To be rid of you, for I am a madwoman, and you affect me in a strange way. Enough! I would not continue to be employed if you drowned me in
dahr
.”
He was the one to look away now, thoughtful. “Do you know,” he said, “it’s remarkable you tell me all this. Maybe you are mad. And maybe, that’s what’s so curious about your manner, what in turn interests me. You are unclaimable, yet so capable of loyalty.”
“
I am simply perverse.” She never let him meet her eyes.
“
Whatever you are,” Elas pursued, “I also feel bound to you. There is something about the way we are with one another, a strange sense of connection.”
Her eyes were blank.
“
For example,” he said. “The way we talk even now, despite the fact that we’re in the middle of the street, my kinswomen are anxiously waiting within the carriage, thinking me mad, and the sun is making beads of sweat glitter on your brow.”
Unconsciously she wiped her forehead.
“
And,” he continued, “I seem to be speaking to you, a stranger, a commoner, as if you were a confidante of a lifetime. And—you saved me.”
“
I saved you. Because I
felt
like doing it. I am changeable, Elasand-re. I would be bored tomorrow. Bored with you and your cause. And will leave you, just like that. Because I’d no longer care, in my own sick, subtle, perverse manner.”
“
Well, why don’t you then?” His voice had grown soft, persuasive, quiet. “Leave me when it bores you. I will not grudge you. In the meantime, simply work for me indefinitely. I ask you again. I want to have you with me, your abilities, your originality. You said I stifle you—well then, learn to overcome your inner self in this. For your own good. Or you’ll never be so elegant again. And if I throw you off balance, do not fear, I will never ask you why.”
“
You are so clever, lord . . .” she whispered. “And you are undeniably right. Yet again, why the hell do you bother? You do not have my perverse sense of play.”
“
Do I not? Ranhéas, I think it’s time for me also to engage in a moment of truth. We are two creatures of the same mind. It draws us together. I glimpse something in you, woman. Do not fear me. Stay. I will give you work that you’ve never had the equal of, to satiate, to quench your—addiction. Always changing, surprising work.”
“
You choose such precise words.”
“
Words that might touch
you
.”
Lixa Beis, listening within the carriage, absolutely enthralled, turned to her mother, saying, “What exactly have they been talking about, these last ten minutes?”
She said this in a careless petulant voice, in order that Dame Beis might think she was more innocent about the nature of the conversation than in fact. Truly, Lixa was sensitive to fine undercurrents that her mother could not even imagine.
Molhveth Beis, lying back on fine pillows, sincerely thought herself in a half-faint still. First, to be riding, confined, for hours. And then seeing her nephew nearly killed, for the second time in less than two days—this was unbearable. She was high-strung, and her faint had been quite real. All that had happened afterwards was but anticlimax. She didn’t care, or bother, to overhear anything.
Seeing that her mother did not react, Lixa was satisfied, her own secretive nature pacified. She was overhearing others in an odd private conversation—no matter if it was but her cousin Elas and that woman guard—and she was feeling fascinated guilt. Guilt for somehow hearing things. Guilt for—
But then, whoever said this conversation was private? They weren’t exactly being secretive about their words, standing in the crowded sunlit square.
Yet, something made her uncomfortable. It seemed to Lixa that she was observing them through a psychic veil, an intangible layer of difference that placed them into a common reality apart from the rest of the world.
And hardly daring to breathe, Lixa continued listening.
“
What else must I tell you to convince you?” spoke Elas, his expression having become gentle, and not exactly how an employer and a lord might deal with a hired commoner.
There was a strained expression on Ranhé’s face, however. “I don’t know,” she was saying.
“
Why, for gods’ sake?” he asked, yet again.
What an odd level of intimacy.
“
I suppose that the monetary aspect hardly interests you,” he said. “However”—and a curve came to his lips—“I’ll bring it up. I will pay you three hundred and fifty
dahr
of gold for every month that you choose to stay in my employ.”
Ranhé’s look widened. “So much! You overestimate me extremely. And again, I haven’t yet agreed to anything. . . .”
But I will
, she thought.
He draws me like a moth to a flame.
“
Agree, then.
Now
. I am wearied of arguing and trying to convince you.” He threw the words like a challenge. His tone had become curt suddenly. And he wanted to add but didn’t,
I am trying, it seems, in this one thing, harder than I’ve ever tried in anything
. . . .
Ranhé breathed the air of the City, deeply, as if it were her last gasp of freedom. “I’ve never,” she said, “never committed myself to this extent. You’ll not say anything if all of a sudden I want to leave? I warn you. I’ll ultimately do it. Maybe exactly at the least opportune moment for you, when you might need my service most of all.”
“
I know. I agree to these terms.”
You do not realize how much more firmly I am binding you thus, to me
, he thought.
Loose bonds are the hardest to sever. You will never leave until I let you, or until I dispose of you myself
.
The gray sun blanched her face. And she looked up into that brilliant gray, squinting, as though to ask advice from the sky.
“
What exactly would be the nature of my employment with you this time?”
“
A good question. More than a guard,” said Elas, “I need a right-hand man—or woman. In truth, the very fact that you are female will help considerably, to make your position oblique. You’ll accompany me everywhere I go, except under rare circumstances. You will be armed, appropriately. And upon occasion, you’ll appear to be unarmed to others. And upon yet other occasions, you’ll pretend to be someone not yourself. . . .”
“
This conjures fascinating possibilities, I must confess.”
He smiled. “A job suited perfectly to you, as you’ll see.”
“
I see already.”