Covenants (v2.2) Page 14

  “Here.” I allowed Laurel to place more in my mouth and chewed those. The pounding started to subside and my stomach settled. “Stubborn, stubborn idiot. If you had done this yesterday, you’d not be flirting with death now.” I tried to answer him, but with the pain withdrawing I was sliding towards oblivion. My eyelids drooped.

  “Why are you holding his hand, Sro Laurel?”

  “How long has the lieutenant harassed Lord Rabbit, honored captain?” Laurel countered with another question.

  I opened my eyes a bit, somewhat interested.

  “Since Slevoic was assigned to Freston, about three years ago.” I felt Laurel make a couple of passes over my hand, and then gently pry it open.

  “What the sodding poxy hell is that?”

  My eyes opened all the way. Suiden never cursed. Well, maybe a little, but not like that. I tried to see but my vision was still blurred.

  “The accumulation of three years of abuse.” Laurel made a couple more passes. “If Lord Rabbit had connected with this, we would’ ve had to scrape the lieutenant off the wall, floor, and anywhere else he may have splashed.” Whatever was in my hand began to dissipate and I wiggled my fingers. “Do not move, Lord Rabbit.” I stopped.

  “Runaway untrained apprentice mage.” I could hear the concern in the captain’s voice. “Is he a danger? Is he in danger?”

  “No, honored captain, to both.” Another pass and it ebbed some more. “The mentha will help restore Rabbit’s balance and he’ll regain his usual self-control.” Laurel brushed his paw over my palm and the tingling started to fade. “He’s had a lot thrust upon him all at once. The lieutenant’s taunts and threats were the final drops that burst the dam.” He drew on my skin with a claw, leaving a line of fire in my palm. “If we leave him be for a while, he should recover. He’s too dragon-headed to do otherwise.” I heard him dip something in water and wring it out, and I sighed as he placed a wet cloth on my forehead. My eyes closed and, as everything faded away, I heard someone snore and wondered who it was.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  A badger was leaning over me. I could see the white patch on his forehead as his paw shook my shoulder. I thought of the family that had moved into the forest near our farm, and how Honor Ash Faena had to eventually negotiate a truce between them, the wolf pack and the big cats. I smiled sleepily at him. “I give you good day, honored badger.”

  His brows came together; then he picked up some leaves. “Here, Rabbit. Suiden said you were to take these the instant you wake up.” Willing to obey a direct order, even one given through a furry animal, I reached for the leaves, pleased that my hand did not shake—though I couldn’t think why it should. I bit down on them, enjoying their sharp flavor. The badger watched me as I chewed and I wondered why Jeff looked so anxious. I struggled to rise, Jeff helping by grabbing one arm. “This is getting monotonous,” I said as I staggered to my feet. Again, I was surprised to find that I was mostly steady, though I now began to remember why I mightn’t be. I took a tentative step and kept my balance.

  “So, do you know who I am?” Jeff asked, still looking worried.

  “Don’t be stupid, Jeff.”

  Jeff looked relieved, then glared at me. “What was I supposed to think? You called me ‘honored badger’ a minute ago.”

  “Oh.” I thought fast. “I was dreaming about my parents’ farm and the badgers that lived near it.” I shrugged. “Must’ve got you mixed up with it.” I rubbed my hand, which started to burn a bit.

  “Well, never mind all that,” Jeff said. “A servant from Court has come to fetch Ambassador Laurel.” He pulled me towards the door. “The captain said that you have a quarter hour to get ready so that you can accompany him.”

  “But—” I began, startled that I’d be tipped out of my sickbed just to play liaison.

  “Rabbit, the servant asked for you too.”

  Hell and its ugly mother. I hit the hallway at a trot and reached the water closet at a full run, sliding a little past the door when I stopped. A quarter hour later, washed, shaved and dressed, I was bounding down the stairs, trying to straighten my hastily donned belt.

  “Here he is now,” Captain Suiden said as I reached the bottom. The man in royal livery next to him bowed low.

  “Lord Rabbit,” the servant said, “I am here to escort both you and Ambassador Laurel.”

  “To the king?” I asked, finally getting everything straight.

  “To one of his majesty’s ministers, my lord. The Chancellor of Foreign Affairs.” The servant gave a faint smile. “If I might take the liberty to say, Chancellor Berle was a little vexed when she discovered that you and the ambassador had arrived and she hadn’t been told, and she sent me straightway to offer her apologies and to bring you to Court.”

  There had been a low amount of noise from tradespeople busy with the outfitting of the embassy, but now it shot up, a couple of muffled shrieks adding to the sounds of panic. I looked down the hall and saw Laurel Faena approaching, carrying his staff.

  The servant, though, ignored the commotion with well-trained deafness, and once more bowed low. “Ambassador Laurel.” Over his shoulder I could see Groskin approaching as he walked towards us, carrying the captain’s dress belt, sword and gloves. He handed them to Suiden and the captain put the sword on and tucked the yellow gloves into the belt.

  “Lieutenant,” Groskin said, holding out another sword and set of gloves. I frowned at both the “lieutenant” and how he was careful to keep his hands from touching mine, but then I looked at what he had handed me and all other thoughts fled.

  All horse soldiers received a plain blade and dark blue dress gloves; holding the tasseled officer’s sword in my hand hit home as nothing else did the change in my status. Jeff had followed Groskin, and I stared at him as I took the old ones off and buckled on the new belt, adjusted the sword and carefully folded the bright yellow gloves over the strap.

  “I am ready when you are, honored folk,” Laurel said.

  Both tradespeople and troopers watched as Laurel led our little procession to the front door. Javes came out of the captains’ office and Groskin joined him. Both of their faces were somber. Groskin, though, did not meet my eyes.

  “You have command, Captain Javes,” Suiden said.

  “Yes, Captain Suiden.”

  As the door closed behind us, I looked out on the street and saw the death staff and dragon skin loaded on one of several horses. Jeff slipped past us to go join the captain and servant, but Laurel Faena paused next to me. “And so it begins,” he said softly. He then looked at me. “Are you all right, Lord Rabbit?”

  I nodded. “Yes, honored Faena. The mentha worked wonders.”

  It was Laurel’s turn to nod. “That is good. I have more if you need it.” He touched my arm. “We will talk when we return.” Captain Suiden and the servant, realizing that they had lost us, looked back.

  Laurel gave a brief chuff. “I suppose that we should go on, lest our keepers come back and get us.” He smoothed his feathers and checked his beads, took a deep breath, then walked towards the horses. After making sure my sword hung straight, I followed.

  I had thought that I’d already seen a fair chunk of Iversly, but I discovered that I’d traveled only a small part. We rode through squares, across marketplaces, down shop-lined streets, around triumphal arches and monuments, past theaters, over bridges that spanned the tributaries that fed the Banson and formed the delta that the Royal City was built on.

  “Iverlsy is a triangle with the Royal Residence at the farthest end,” Suiden said as we crossed yet another square, “unlike most cities that are built around a central point.” A standard elf design where the stronghold faces the threat. The wind shifted, bringing with it a salty tang, and I wondered what had threatened them from the sea.

  “We did,” Suiden said.

  I turned around to stare at the captain.

  “Eyes forward, Lieutenant.”

  I faced front again.

  The Faena walked
next to Suiden, carrying his staff in one paw and leading the packhorse with the other. But instead of the bubble we normally got when the big cat was out and about, the city folk lined the street—in some places several deep. Most watched Laurel, but I also fell under scrutiny.

  “It seems that Captain Javes’ campaign was successful, sir,” I said to Suiden. A man lifted a child to his shoulder and pointed at me, and I was tempted to wave.

  “Yes, and don’t even think about it.”

  We crossed one more square, another bridge, passed through a triumphal arch, rounded a corner, and stopped. The end of our journey was before us—the Royal Residence of King Jusson Golden Eye. And behind it was me sea.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The royal compound was a huge, sprawling complex several stories high with wings, annexes, and outbuildings. The palace itself was gold-roofed, but there was the purple of the army and the different blues of commerce. The servant, being a considerate guide, allowed us a few moments to gawk before riding on.

  As we neared, I could make out over the surrounding walls the soaring arches and graceful colonnades that were part of the original elfin building, and see where human architects tried to match their delicate beauty. They came close, but it was still obvious where one ended and the other began. Something gleamed to my left and I turned. Across from the royal buildings was the patriarch’s See, the crystal and silver church spires bright in the sun. I blinked at how the palace and the See were opposite each other, and the tension that seemed to shimmer between them.

  “Politics, Rabbit,” Suiden murmured, “and a balance of power. One counterweighing the other so the scales remain even, never tipping into either the tyranny of an unchecked throne or the fanatical orthodoxy of church governance.”

  “What about the army, sir?” I asked. “Where does it fit?”

  “Right now in the Lord Commander’s hand,” Suiden replied.

  I opened my mouth to ask what about the king, but shut it again at seeing the servant’s interested gaze.

  The entire compound was on a promontory that thrust out into the ocean and I could hear the breakers crashing below it. We reached the only bridge that spanned the palace moat; I looked down, saw sharpened stakes in the water along with strange fish with many teeth, and moved my horse as close to the middle as I could get without running over the captain. On the other side of the bridge was the guard gate. We stopped and I leaned forward, curious how this would play out.

  “Guests to see Foreign Chancellor Berle.”

  The lieutenant in charge merely nodded at the servant and waved him through, he and his men taking care to salute the captain as we passed. I did, however, sneak a peek behind me and saw them clumped together staring after us.

  We were led up a broadway, lined with trees punctuated with vistas of fountains, ornamental lakes, arbors and shaded walks. The road crunched under the horses’ hooves—it was made of crushed seashells and gleamed white in the morning sun. The ground had been gently sloping up for some time, but as it leveled off, we veered to the right, following a smaller road that curved around a stand of flowering trees. Clearing them, we could see that we had come to a palace wing. As we dismounted, liveried groomers appeared to collect our horses, and after a brief but heated discussion about who was to carry the death staff and dragon skin, we climbed the flight of steps into the building—I last, because my arms were full.

  We were ushered into an ornate reception chamber that had columns with twining vines carved onto them, cages full of bright-feathered birds that chirped and twittered, a painted ceiling full of cavorting nymphs (I heard a gasp behind me as Jeff realized there were bared bosoms and legs up there), and a mosaic floor showing cavorting mermaids (there was another gasp as he realized what we were walking on). Tall, north-facing windows filled the room with a soft light, and I could see someone standing by a table at the far end. She bowed as soon as Laurel Faena got into range and as she straightened I looked into the face of a vixen.

  “The Chancellor of Foreign Affairs, Berle,” the servant intoned. He then effaced himself, leaving the room.

  “Grace to you, Ambassador Laurel,” the chancellor said. Her russet eyes flicked over me, rested on the captain for a moment, then snapped back to the Faena.

  “Honored chancellor,” Laurel said, rising from his own bow. He turned and gestured for me to join him. “May I?” At the chancellor’s nod, Laurel directed me to lay my burdens down on the table. As soon as I did, I moved back to where Jeff was trying to find an inoffensive place to put his feet, and Suiden joined us.

  Chancellor Berle looked down at the staff, shield and hauberk. “My goodness, Ambassador. What are these?”

  “The reason why I’ve come to speak with your king, Chancellor,” Laurel said. “They are what’s left of two Border citizens.”

  “I see.” Chancellor Berle stared with dismayed fascination; then she gave a wry smile. “Well, I was going to invite you to be seated, but I don’t think that would be appropriate now.” At the captain’s high sign, Jeff and I grabbed chairs and moved them away from the table. The chancellor gave another wry smile. “Thank goodness for ingenuity. Shall we?”

  Despite Suiden’s prejudice against gambling, I’d been in a few high stakes games where it was as much bluff and reading the other players as it was skill and luck of the draw. Chancellor Berle and Laurel Faena sat facing each other as if one had bet the family estate and the other was determined to win it. The chancellor made the opening bid.

  “I wish to apologize, Ambassador Laurel. You’ve come a long way to receive such a poor welcome.”

  “Thank you, honored chancellor.” Laurel saw the chancellor’s bet and raised it. “I admit it was a little disconcerting.”

  Chancellor Berle nodded. “Unfortunately, I was away from the city and did not get word that you had arrived until I returned last night.” She made a discard. “And contrary to appearances, the treasury clerks do not set foreign policy.”

  So much for Losan eso Dru.

  “However, I trust that you’ve managed to get everything arranged to your satisfaction?”

  “Yes, honored chancellor. Through the efforts of Captains Suiden and Javes, the embassy should soon be completely furnished.”

  “Good.” Chancellor Berle shifted in her seat. Time to show cards. “So, Ambassador, as I said, you’ve come a long way. Why?”

  Laurel Faena stood and walked over to the table. He looked at me and held out his staff. At the captain’s nod, I walked over and took it from him, starting a little at the warmth that spread over my hand and up my arm. Laurel bent over and removed the shroud from Prudence Oak’s body. The chancellor rose and stood next to the Faena.

  “Are you familiar with spritewood, honored chancellor?”

  “Yes, Ambassador.” Surprised, I looked up from the table and met Chancellor Berle’s eyes as she watched me over Laurel’s shoulder.

  “Then I don’t need to explain what this is.” Laurel traced over the dead sprite. “Her name was Prudence Oak, Chancellor. I knew her and grieved hard with her sister over her murder. So imagine my shock when I discovered a church elder using her body as his Staff of Office.” Laurel pointed at the hauberk. “Or my horror when I saw a commander in the Royal Army wearing the skin of Dragon Gwyyn, a son of a dear friend.” Laurel looked up. “The commander said that he was told it came from the Royal Armory.” Laurel moved back to his chair, sitting down. “For the past five years we have suffered predations from runners—”

  “Runners?” Chancellor Berle asked, also seating herself once more.

  “Smugglers and raiders, honored chancellor. They run wood, pelts, ivory and such into Iversterre and the lucrative markets here.” Laurel held out his paw and I handed his staff back to him. “Where no one asks any questions about the origin of an exotic fur, or whether the apothecary’s potion contains real dragonheart.”

  “This is very distressing, Ambassador.”

  “We’re not too happy about it
ourselves.” Laurel leaned forward. “There is talk of war.”

  There was silence. “I see,” Chancellor Berle finally said. “Are you sure that these smugglers are from here?”

  “A fair question. Some runners have been caught”—Laurel’s lips drew back, showing his eyeteeth—”and questioned diligently. They were all from Iversterre.”

  “Are there Border folk involved too?”

  Laurel shrugged. “It’s possible, but so far we’ve found no evidence.”

  “I see,” the chancellor said again. She folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me, how does Lieutenant Rabbit fit into this?” I’d been distracted by a particularly nubile mermaid, but my head snapped up at my name.

  Laurel’s whiskers swept back again, this time his smile showing fewer teeth. “Honored Two Trees—Lord Rafe ibn Chause—was instrumental in getting the High Council to try diplomacy. He recommended his son as a go-between, due to both Lord Rabbit’s Border ties and his kin in the human kingdom.” Laurel chuffed. “It was either that or send a retinue of Border folk, and we didn’t think Iversterre was ready for that.”

  Chancellor Berle nodded. “And Captain Suiden?”

  Laurel’s brows drew together as he stared at the unexpected card he had just been dealt. “Captain Suiden?”

  “He is the son of the sister of the Amir of Tural.”

  I couldn’t help it. I stared—along with Jeff and Laurel—at my captain. And Prince Suiden smiled faintly as he bowed to the fox.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I made a mental note to never gamble with Laurel Faena. Instead of disclaiming any knowledge of Captain Suiden’s royalness, or denying that he was plotting with the Amir of Tural, the cat shrugged.

  “I am sure your army commanders knew who he was when they appointed him head of my escort.” Laurel looked at Chancellor Berle, his face calm. “The good captain’s antecedents do not interest me. The illegal running does. The moon season will begin at the full moon, and the blood of the slaughtered will then sing out for vengeance. A most dangerous time, Chancellor Berle, when all will be reminded of friends and family who have been murdered.”