The Seer King: Book One of the Seer King Trilogy (38 page)

The affair was held in the palace’s main ballroom, a great, glass-domed structure that could have held twice as many people. There was one orchestra here, and others scattered throughout the grounds. Either by clever communication or sorcery, all of them played the same tune at the same time, keeping in perfect time with each other.

At the center of the room was Chardin Sher, and a long receiving line snaked toward him. About halfway up it I saw the Seer Tenedos and his baroness. We joined them, after asking permission from those behind. Both Marán and I lifted our masks, as had the others in the line. After meeting Chardin Sher the mysteries could begin.

“What do you think of my ensemble, Damastes?” Tenedos wondered.

“You’re quite the First Man, sir,” I said. “I didn’t know he was supposed to have been that hairy.”

“I think my tailor became a bit carried away,” Tenedos explained. “Or else he thought I needed far more concealment than I allow for.”

If Tenedos’s furs were somewhat exaggerated, Baroness Rasenna compensated in quite the opposite direction. Her costume began as a fur collar around her neck that ruffed down just far enough to cover the middle of her breasts, although when she moved her nipples peeped into sight. Fur went from the back of the collar down her spine, between her legs and then up across her hips to rejoin the spinal covering. She wore a wolf-head for a headdress and short boots.

“I think the costumer believed that the First Man was set down in the icy south, and First Woman in the tropics, but Laish doesn’t like my theory,” Rasenna said.

“I didn’t say that,” Tenedos said. “I just said I didn’t know how they ever came together if your theory’s right.”

“What Umar willed would happen.”

“More likely the Man would’ve settled down with the first friendly sheep he encountered and there never would have been a Second Man,” Tenedos said.

I was right — Rasenna was good for the seer. He was quite jovial this evening.

But as we drew closer to Chardin Sher, his cheerfulness vanished and he quit bantering. His gaze was fixed on the Kallian. I followed his example, and let the women talk between themselves.

Chardin Sher was tall, almost as tall as I am. He was thin, his clean-shaven face almost gaunt. His eyes were the palest, hardest gray I have ever seen. He was flanked by three retainers and a third small man, who whispered in his ear each time a Nician stepped forward to greet him. Two of the others were his bodyguards, men whose eyes never stopped sweeping the room, although their smiles and even laughter came mechanically as required.

The third man made me start. It was Elias Malebranche, the Kallian emissary to the court of Achim Baber Feigana, whose presence and even stranger disappearance had never been explained.

None of the Kallians wore costume, and Malebranche turned, and saw Tenedos and myself. I saw he still wore the fighting knife in its horizontal sheath. He, too, stiffened, his hand reflexively touching the knife.

At that moment I knew one of us would kill the other.

I tapped Tenedos’s boot with my foot, but he was intent on studying the Kallian prime minister and not to be distracted.

Chardin Sher smiled, and said something to the couple in front of Tenedos that made them laugh as they walked away, then the seer was in front of him. The little man whispered a few words to Kallian. Tenedos stood motionless for a moment, and I wondered if he thought Chardin Sher should be the first to bow. Then he inclined his head no more than politeness dictated. Chardin Sher did the same, paying no attention to Rasenna.

“So,” he said, his tone amused, “you are the wizard who thinks I am such a threat. Now you can see I am no more than any other man.”

“You have excellent information, sire. Would that we had the same for all that happens in Kallio.”

Chardin Sher frowned.

“What would that mean?”

Tenedos smiled and said, his voice an obvious lie, “Why, no more than we do not hear nearly enough of what it must be like to live in your state or in your capital of Polycittara, which I am sure provides a fascinating life.”

“Very good, Seer. You use more than magic to turn away a thrust, I see. Now, let me ask you, in all honesty, why you have been preaching that I need bringing down?”

“I have never said that, sir,” Tenedos said. “I have merely offered you as an example of ministers who seem to pay little attention to their rightful masters.”

“That is not true,” Chardin Sher. “I do everything I am ordered.”

“Ordered, yes. But if I had a servant who did no more than just what he was told, ignoring my unspoken policies, I’d have him thrashed and driven from my service.”

“So that is what you would have the Rule of Ten do with me?” The smile was gone from Chardin Sher’s lips, and his stare was the coldest of rage.

“I will not dare to speak for my leaders. If I could, though, I would require certain things of you before you return to Kallio.”

“What would
you
will?”

“That you formally renounce all of Kallio’s claims to the Border States and agree to join with Dara in mounting a punitive expedition into Kait to finally reduce that country to proper obedience.”

“That would mean war,” he said.

“I do not call suppressing bandits who call themselves a nation war, but if you choose that term, so be it.”

“And if I do not call for this crusade? The Rule of Ten haven’t suggested that to me at all.”

Tenedos looked unblinking into the Kallian’s eyes, and said nothing whatsoever. To my surprise, Chardin Sher was the first to look away.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid our chat’s holding up the line,” he said. “Perhaps we should make arrangements to continue this discussion before I leave Nicias.”

“My time is yours,” Tenedos bowed and stepped away.

Again, the little man whispered information, and I bowed to the Kallian.

“You are the man who saved Seer Tenedos’s life, eh?”

“And he mine.”

“Guard him well, soldier,” Chardin Sher said. “I have no magic, but I can predict a man such as him will always be courting danger.”

“I thank you for that advice, sir,” and I stepped away.

Chardin Sher’s eyes gleamed as he took in Marán.

“Countess,” he greeted after the briefing. “You are the most spectacular thing I’ve seen in Nicias thus far. Thank you for honoring me with your presence.”

Marán curtsied, and we joined Tenedos, who stood a few feet away, waiting. Rasenna was positively glowing, and seemed to care nothing for not being spoken to.

“You see why I love him,” she said, unasked. “My little magician will stand up to anything for what he believes.”

Tenedos looked embarrassed at her words. I waited for a comment, but, instead, he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You know, that small one that Chardin Sher has with him. A walking file. Interesting. Most valuable at times like this when you’re meeting strangers but courtesy suggests you should know them.”

“Perhaps you could train Kutulu,” I said.

“No,” Tenedos said. “He will have other, more important uses. Such a man as Chardin Sher has must have no identity, no soul, beyond what his master gives him.”

He replaced his mask, and I remembered what he’d told me in Sayana about never finding a man so monstrous that nothing could be learned from him.

“Now the preliminary skirmishing is over,” he said, “shall we enjoy ourselves, even though I dance but indifferently? Oh, yes. One thing, Damastes. I’ll lay ten gold pieces against one of your collar buttons that I never am summoned for a talk with Chardin Sher.”

I grinned. “Sir, just because I’m but a captain doesn’t mean I’m a fool. No bet.”

“Tsk. I do love an easy victory.” Tenedos bowed to Marán and led Rasenna toward the dance floor.

I took Marán’s arm and followed.

• • •

Marán, naturally, danced superbly. I am regarded as a decent stepper, but she knew all of the latest steps, whereas I had only familiarity with older standards. So we sat out some numbers, talking of this and that, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. I thought, wistfully, it was like the beginning of a courtship, when both parties are delighted over their lover-to-be’s wit, charm, and beauty.

A simple dance I knew the steps to began, and I took her in my arms and we moved together to the music.

The material of her dress felt like silk, but where silk is cold this was warm, living in the brief spell the magician had given.

I let my hand slip down from Marán’s shoulders to the small of her back, and could feel the beginning of her cleft. I longed to slide it down farther, and cup her buttocks, but knew better.

“You dance a bit closer than a chaperone might approve of, Damastes.”

“I apologize to the invisible iron lady. But not to you.”

“You are a shameful man, sir. Does the army teach you such behavior?”

“That and worse, my good Countess. For instance, there is a dance done by soldiers of my
real
regiment, in faraway Mehul, when they visit the sinful dens of Rotten Row, that requires the man to put both arms closely around his partner. Of course we officers would never partake of such an ostentatiously sexual pastime as that.”

“Is the dance slow or fast?”

“It alternates, and I’ve seen women leap from the floor and wrap their legs around their accomplices, and then lean back until their hair brushes the floor.”

“Sinful, perhaps,” Marán said. “And definitely acrobatic.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t that shock the good people of Nicias if we suddenly began such a turn?”

“Possibly,” I said, a bit drunk with the notion, “but I at least wouldn’t notice their response.”

“Careful, sir.”

There was a touch on my shoulder, and I came back to earth and prepared to relinquish Marán reluctantly to an interloper. Standing there was Elias Malebranche.

“Good evening, Captain á Cimabue.”

Anger just at his presence flashed through me, but I said nothing, and stepped back. Marán looked puzzled, but moved toward Malebranche, ready to dance away. She smiled at him — the landgrave was a not unhandsome man, I had to admit.

“No, Countess, I am not asking for the dance, but thank you for the honor,” he said. “My master wishes to have further converse with you.” He nodded at me. “We shall need the honor of the lady’s presence for only a few moments. So if you’ll excuse us …”

Marán’s face reddened.

“Captain,” she said to me, “I am not sure I understand what this man really wishes, but I am most shocked he would ask me to leave my chosen escort at his master’s beckon, for some sort of dialogue he is afraid for you to overhear. I gather you know him?”

“Yes,” I said, pushing my own rage back, and put an expression of puzzlement on my face. “Yes, now I think I do. Forgive me. Countess Agramónte and Lavedan, this is Elias Malebranche. I believe he has a title … ah yes. Landgrave.”

Malebranche bowed, Marán barely inclined her head. Before Marán could respond to the insulting invitation, I said, in my smoothest courtier’s tones, “My humblest apologies, Landgrave Malebranche. But I did not recognize you without your yellow silk cord.”

Malebranche’s eyes flashed rage, and he spun on me.

“What does that mean, sir?”

Instead of answering him directly, I spoke to Marán.

“The good landgrave has close friends in the hills and now elsewhere who have most unusual ideas on how to enrich themselves. I shall not speak their name here, but his associates are the sort of murderous scum you might expect a man who behaves as he does to associate with.”

Malebranche’s words came through gritted teeth.

“Your manners, sir, are exactly what I’d expect from a peasant foot soldier. My master merely thought the lady might enjoy the company of a gentleman, rather than a mercenary from a forgotten and barbaric state who’s probably taken vows of celibacy to match his costume.”

There could be but one response to that. I was about to explode, but saw Malebranche’s hand unconsciously caressing the haft of his knife. If I struck him, he would be entitled to defend himself by any means necessary right here, and I was unarmed, though I feared him not in the slightest. If I called him out, it would be his choice of weapons, and obviously he was an expert with the knife. Marán, too, knew what must occur, and her anger had turned to fear.

I don’t know where I found control — perhaps Tanis or my monkey god Vachan granted me a boon. But I did, and said, in a fairly calm tone, “Landgrave, I know what you wish me to do. But I cannot. A Numantian officer must not duel with his inferiors.”

“How dare you! The Malebranche family can extend its heritage for a thousand years!”

“If that is so, which I doubt, then your ancestors would be hanging their heads, seeing their descendant no more than a false nobleman’s pimp.”

That did it.

Malebranche, his voice ice, said, “Very well. My response shall be on the Field of Honor. Is that agreeable with you?”

I bowed agreement, and he stalked away.

The red anger subsided, and I looked about. Fortunately no one seemed to have heard our exchange, and we were merely getting puzzled looks as to why we were standing still in the middle of the dance floor.

I took Marán in my arms and moved away, pretending to dance.

“Now what happens?” she whispered.

“Now I kill the bastard.”

• • •

A few minutes later, Marán’s temper roared back, and she wanted to go to Chardin Sher and tell him what a contemptible swine he was.

“If you wish,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I’ll cheerfully accompany you.”

“No you won’t. I can take care of myself. Besides, you’d probably take that wretched man’s dagger away from him and stab the shit, and then what would happen?”

“I’d be executed, of course. But I would die happy, and rise on the Wheel for having served such a beautiful woman.”

“Stop trying to calm me down, dammit!”

“My apologies.” I started to say something more, that I had not been the one to insult her, but fortunately held my tongue. We were alone in one of the gardens. We’d gone out of the ballroom to calm ourselves down, and clearly it was not happening. Marán stared out into the night. After a time, she turned back.