Part 31 (1/2)

”What in the name of any G.o.d you choose were you thinking? Did you imagine you could kill Chardin Sher's a.s.sistant, who, as you probably do not know, was yesterday named as envoy to stay on in Nicias after the conference ends, without your own head rolling in the gutter?”

”Sir, he deliberately sought a fight”

”Do youalways have to do what people always want you to?”

”It was a matter of honor.”

”Honor can be easily redeemed without swordplay, sir!” Tenedos snapped.

”It was not mine, but... someone else's.”

Tenedos stopped his pacing and stared at me.

”Mayhap the Countess Agramonte and Lavedan?” I did not answer. Tenedos's anger vanished.

”I see,” he said thoughtfully. ”Since you are a gentleman, and would not answer me, I shall not inquire as to how far this matter has gone, even though my question would be fueled less by prurience than politics. Nor will I make any suggestions as what you should do nor not do regarding the countess. I a.s.sume you well know how powerful her husband is.

”By the G.o.ds, Damastes, it's hard to keep you alive long enough to fulfill my promises to you!”

”Yes, sir. But I was not the one who pulled on Chardin Sher's beard that he doesn't have.”

”No. No you weren't. But that was calculated, unlike ... unlike some other matters.” Tenedos sat down, rubbing his forehead, thinking. Then he rose.

”I have a seminar to instruct some dominas in how weather magic can help them win battles in fifteen minutes, so you'll excuse me. Oh yes.” He went to a desk, and took out a leather bag. ”Here's gold enough to get some very good friends of yours very drunk to repay a very large debt.”

”No thank you, sir,” I said. ”I have money of my own. And if it's not enough, I'll sell my sword for more.”

”Very good. Consider this somewhat regrettable episode set aside. But don't wander into dark places to meet men with disreputable reputations any more than you have to. I don't know where I'd find your replacement.”

I wanted to ask Tenedos exactly what place he saw for me, but then doubted if I'd want the answer, even if he knew it. I saluted and left. I had to find a tavern to rent.

Yonge grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me close. His words were slurred, since he was very drunk. I was not much better. Although I'd held myself to only a handful of brandies, my normally sober ways were not helping matters at all. Karjan was trying to convince the tavern la.s.s she really didn't want to sleep alone, and Yonge's three a.s.sociates, dis- *reputable and dangerous friends he'd made in his whoring about Nicias, were singing a ballad-three ballads, actually, none of them capable of understanding the others' bellows.

”Y'know, Numantian,” Yonge said, ”I think I'll stick close with you.”

”You've fallen in love, then?”

”Don't try to be witty. I'm serious.”

”All right. Be serious.”

”Do you know why?”

”I do not.”

” 'Cause you're bound to be a gen'ral, and I've never been around a real gen'ral.”

”May Vachan bless your words.”

”I don't know if that's a blesh... blessing. But you didn't let me finish. You'll either be a gen'ral... or else you'll get dead doing some fool thing that'll prob'ly end up being a legend or something.

”Either way, I want to see what comes next.”

He refilled our gla.s.ses until they overflowed onto the table.

”Now, put this away neat. You're not drinking the way a gen'ral should.”

I shuddered and obeyed.

The next morning I wished Malebranche had killed me. Lance Karjan was in little better shape, but the h.e.l.ls with him. He didn't have to meet a beautiful countess at noon. Fortunately I had arranged with the adjutant to have the day off to keep my appointment with Maran.

I drank half a gallon of water, pulled myself into my sports uniform, and staggered out to the athletic field. I threw up three times in four laps, went to the troop's bathing area and steamed for half an hour, then leaped into the coldest pool in the building.

I went to the mess, and sweet-talked the cooks into a gla.s.s of sharp fruit juice and three eggs beaten into an omelet made with the sharpest of spices. That and a pot of herbal tea, and there was a slight chance I would live long enough to greet Maran.

I handed Lucan's reins to a serving man, and entered the restaurant. I thought it was best to come in mufti; the uniform of the Helms was far too distinguishable for my purposes. I handed Maran's note to the greeter, and he bowed.

”Upstairs, sir. Third door. Here is the key.”

I went up the stairs, realizing that at no time had I been seen by any of the restaurant's patrons. I began to suspect this eating establishment's reputation was founded on more than culinary skills.

I tapped at the door, inserted the key, and entered as laughter tinkled within.

The room was small for a dining area, no more than twenty feet by twelve feet, and high-ceilinged, with another door at its far end. There was a table set for two in the center of the room. Along both walls were couches wide enough to be beds and next to one a sideboard with an a.s.sortment of bottles. The rag beneath my boots was soft and thick enough to serve as a mattress.

Sitting on one couch, an open bottle of wine in an ice bucket between them, were Maran and a woman I did not know. They both stood.

”Ah, so this is the brave captain,” the stranger said. I bowed.

”Damastes,” Maran said, ”this is my very best friend, Lady Amiel Kalvedon.”

Lady Kalvedon was, even to my prejudiced eye, as lovely as Maran. She was taller, and while slender, had larger b.r.e.a.s.t.s that jutted from a very low-cut peasant's smock in silk that ended at midthigh. She had the perfect legs of a dancer. Her black hair came down to her shoulders in curling waves.

”Amiel has volunteered to do us a great service.”

”Oh?”

”I am your ap.r.o.n,” she said. Her voice was sultry. She was looking at me carefully, and I almost felt like blus.h.i.+ng, knowing, for the first time, how a pretty woman feels entering a roomful of men. I thought she was about to take out a tape, ask me to lower my trousers, and measure the length of my c.o.c.k.

*”Damastes,” she went on. ”Damastes the Fair, I think I shall call you.”

”I thank you, Lady.”

”Considering what I am doing for you, and the terrible cost to my reputation, you should call me Amiel.” She picked up her winegla.s.s, while I stood there, puzzled, drained it, bent and kissed Maran on the lips, picked up a shoulder bag, and went to the other door. ' shall be invisible until four, children. So have fun.” She left.