The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (39 page)

So far, though, there was no crowd. Not a single morsel of food had been touched, nor any of the tobacco pinched for pipes. Baron Ravel’s jaw hung open as he surveyed the room. He had expected a pleasant reception, but the feast before him left him dumbfounded.

‘All this . . .’ He glanced at Varl. ‘For us?’

Rodrik Varl laughed. ‘As I said, my lord, Jazana Carr wanted to welcome you properly. Now, shall I send for the rest of your men?’

The feast Jazana Carr provided rivalled any of Ravel’s own back home, and though he was glad for it he was also oddly jealous. Clearly she had spared no expense. It seemed to the
baron that his hostess was a braggart, because she had provided so much so easily. Still, Ravel was determined to enjoy himself. As suggested, he had sent for most of his men to join him, allowing them to gorge themselves on the queen’s hospitality. There were acrobats and jugglers, pretty girls for the men to admire, endless amounts of beer and wine, and music to delight even Ravel’s jaded ears. The expert musicians had his men dancing and singing alongside the Diamond Queen’s own soldiers, who had joined in the merriment a short time after it started. Jazana Carr had even provided a small dais for Baron Ravel, with a stoutly constructed, thronelike chair to support his great weight and soft upholstery to cradle his backside. There were four other chairs just like it at the dais, two for Bern and another of Ravel’s men, and one for Rodrik Varl. The fourth chair remained empty, however. This one, for Jazana Carr, was at Ravel’s right-hand side, and its vacancy irked the Baron. For two hours he and his men had slaked their varied thirsts, eating their fill and getting drunk on expensive wines, yet Jazana Carr had not appeared or even sent word to him. Ravel hid his anger by sampling everything the servants brought him. He consumed quail eggs by the dozen, pounds of briny chicken feet, countless wedges of cheese from Jerikor – which was his favourite and hard to get, even for him – and washed it all down with rivers of beer and wine. Because of his size he could drink litres without getting drunk and today he proved this fact to anyone who doubted it. Still, while the acrobats tumbled and the singers sang, Jazana Carr did not appear.

Then, just as Ravel felt his anger cresting, he saw her.

And like her feast, she was breathtaking.

The music stopped. The lyres quieted so the horns could trumpet her arrival. Rodrik Varl and the Norvan soldiers lowered their drinks and stood. Ravel hurried to follow this example, his own men doing the same. The tumblers in the centre of the room parted, making way for their mistress as
Jazana Carr floated into the chamber. She was unannounced but she needed no introduction, for she was unmistakably the Diamond Queen, her body sparkling with gemstones that dangled from her ears and neck and fingers, her satin gown aglow with emeralds. Her face was magnificent, like polished alabaster, her hair a golden waterfall, long and looped with bronze braids. Her lips, moistly coloured ruby red, pouted as she surveyed the room, but her eyes leaped with girlish joy at the attention. The train of her gown rippled as she walked regally toward the dais, where Rodrik Varl pushed back his enormous chair and came forth to escort her, taking her dainty hand and kissing it. He smiled at his queen with an expression so full of love that it shocked Ravel. Jazana Carr paused before the dais and nodded at her guests.

‘My lord Baron,’ said Rodrik Varl, ‘please meet my lady, Jazana Carr.’

Baron Ravel stepped down from the dais and, straining, bowed the best he could. ‘My lady,’ he said softly, ‘this is a great honour for me.’

‘Baron Ravel, rise, please,’ bid Jazana Carr. She had a voice like a nightingale, soft and lyrical. She smiled at the baron, dazzling him. ‘You grace Norvor by coming here,’ she continued. ‘Not everyone would have done so. Thank you for making the trip.’

‘The trip, my lady, was well worth the sight of you. I would have crossed an ocean had I known how magnificent you are.’

Jazana Carr pretended to blush. ‘I have heard you are a man of taste, Baron. Your compliment honours me.’

Ravel put out a hand. ‘Then do me an honour, lady, and let me take you to your seat.’

With feline grace Jazana Car slipped her hand into the baron’s. Her grip was warm and smooth. Ravel held her hand gently, then brushed past Rodrik Varl to guide the lady up the dais. The slight sway of her hips enchanted Ravel. To say that she was magnificent was to understate the
obvious. When they reached her seat Ravel paused and pulled back the enormous chair, bidding her to sit. The Diamond Queen smoothed the emerald ruffles of her gown and did so. At once, two of her exquisitely dressed servants rushed up to fill her glass and offer her food. Jazana Carr took the wine, declined the food, and settled in while Ravel took his seat. In a moment the entire gathering did the same, but they did not start speaking until the lady ordered the musicians to play once again. The instruments bloomed to life. The merriment resumed. Ravel turned confidently to Bern and gave a furtive wink.

‘My lady, you have embarrassed us with so much attention,’ he told Jazana Carr. ‘This celebration; it is all too much! My men and I are overwhelmed by your hospitality.’

‘It is a trifle, believe me, Baron Ravel,’ said the Diamond Queen. ‘And you are a man accustomed to good things. Surely I could have given you nothing less.’

‘I thank you, my lady, but my expectations have been royally exceeded. I came here expecting to talk, but this . . .’ Ravel sighed. ‘This is fabulous.’

The compliment made the lady smile. ‘It pleases me to hear you say so, Baron. Of course we will talk, but first you should enjoy yourself. Business is best conducted on a full stomach.’

‘Lady, even my great stomach can only endure so much. We should talk, when you are ready of course. I confess that I’m anxious to hear your opinion on things.’

It was diplomatic speech, yet Jazana Carr seemed not to understand. She ignored the statement, raising her glass and cheering on the acrobats instead, who had taken up positions in front of the dais.

‘We’ll talk, my lord,’ she said finally. ‘In a while.’

Surprised, Ravel had to stop himself from pushing her. She was a silly woman, this Diamond Queen, obviously preoccupied with fun and pretty things. Ravel cultivated his patience. With a snap of his fingers he summoned a serving girl, who placed a platter of gravied meats under his nose
for inspection. Ravel retrieved his fork and dragged slices of the meat onto his plate. A teenaged boy refilled his wine glass. The baron settled back into his chair. He made small talk with the queen, complimenting her on her good taste and the remarkable way she had managed to bring so many fine foods to such a desolate place. At this Jazana Carr sniffed. She told him with a wan smile that Hanging Man fortress was not really remote.

‘If you have money, nothing is remote,’ she said. ‘You must know that, Lord Ravel. You are a man of means, after all.’

‘True,’ Ravel replied. ‘I bring the best spices across the continent for my kitchens, the best wines, the best oils. Anything I want. The cost is unimportant.’

Jazana Carr raised her glass to him. ‘People like us should have no concern of such things.’

Like us
. The phrase irked Ravel.

‘You are indeed wealthy, my lady. This celebration proves that. Still, it must be very expensive for you.’

The queen shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

Again she turned to the tumblers, who had been joined by an obnoxious juggler who took four plates off the dais and began tossing them into the air. The crowd cheered and so did Jazana Carr, but not Ravel. The baron looked around the room and considered the expenses. How many soldiers were there in Hanging Man, he wondered? And how much did it cost to feed them all? Just the transport fees alone should have been ruinous.

A ruse
, he decided. Her ease at paying for such grand opera was a pretence. It could not be anything else. Almost unconsciously he stretched out his hand, laying it across the table near Jazana Carr so that she could see his many rings. She glanced down at his hand for a moment, but only because it distracted her. Still, he seized the moment.

‘Ah, you admire the rings,’ he said. He wiggled his fingers and smiled. ‘I know you’re an expert on gems, my lady. Here . . .’ He slipped a ring off his index finger, a fat band of
gold with an enormous diamond. ‘Tell me what you think of this.’

Jazana Carr raised her eyebrows politely. ‘Oh, yes, it’s very nice,’ she purred. ‘Diamonds with cuts like that are from Marn. We don’t do that cut in Norvor. Look, let me show you the difference . . .’

Now she proceeded to slip off a ring, this one larger than Ravel’s with an even more stunning diamond. ‘Here, you see?’ With her long fingernail she pointed out the differences. ‘Mine is Norvan. See how fine the cut is? Facets like that reflect more light.’

‘Mine came from a Marnan duke,’ said Ravel. ‘You may have it if you like.’

The hint of a crack appeared on the lady’s alabaster face. ‘You’re very kind, Baron. I think, though, that I have enough diamonds.’

Ravel pushed the ring closer to her. ‘Please, my lady, take it. It is nothing to me. If I wanted a hundred like it I could snap my fingers and make it so.’

‘Yes,’ drawled the queen, ‘I’m sure you could.’ Still, she left the ring there on the table, right next to her own. Her sparkling eyes regarded Ravel peculiarly. ‘You seem eager to talk about wealth, my lord. I suppose it is always so with great men of business like yourself.’

‘Forgive me, my lady,’ said Ravel. ‘I have so much of it, you see. It preoccupies me. To run as many holdings as I have requires all my attention, day and night.’

Jazana Carr gritted her pretty teeth. ‘I see,’ she said tightly. ‘Baron Ravel, perhaps you are right. Perhaps we should talk now and discuss what brought you here.’

‘Oh, I agree, my lady. And I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. We’ll come to an arrangement that is generous to you.’

Jazana Carr put down her glass and, with her free hand, took hold of Rodrik Varl’s arm. Varl snickered, shaking his head, and sipped his own drink. Ravel smiled at the queen,
confused, as the music and merriment went on around them.

‘Baron Ravel,’ chuckled Jazana Carr, ‘have you come here to offer me something?’

Ravel hesitated. ‘My lady, forgive me. I’m not sure what you’re asking. I came to Hanging Man because you agreed to talk with me.’

‘That’s right,’ replied the queen. Her smile never waned, and Ravel could not decipher what was amusing her. ‘Baron, you’re right. I did accept your offer to come speak with me.’ She looked at him expectantly. ‘And?’

‘And . . . well, I’m here.’ Ravel returned her questioning glance. ‘Aren’t you going to offer something?’

Jazana turned to Rodrik Varl and started laughing. ‘You see, Rodrik? What did I tell you? All men are like this!’

Baron Ravel leaned back, wondering what was happening. Next to him, Colonel Bern went stiff.

‘My lady,’ began Ravel, ‘the most unpleasant thought occurs to me. Have you brought me here to offer
me
terms?’

Jazana Carr couldn’t control herself. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. ‘Oh, why, why wouldn’t such a thing occur to you, Baron? Tell me, please, what makes you think you are so much above me?’ She picked up the ring he’d left on the table, holding it out before her. ‘This is supposed to impress me, is it?’ She flung the bauble toward the juggler. ‘For you!’ she laughed, urging the entertainer to take it. Ravel watched, mortified by the act.

‘Great Fate, woman!’ he cried. ‘I came all this way to hear your offer, to make a just peace with you! Surely you don’t expect me to bend to your demands.’

‘No, Baron, you’re right,’ said Jazana Carr. ‘I didn’t expect you to give up so easily. After all, you’re a man, which means you suffer from boundless arrogance. A just peace, you say? What were you going to offer me? What could you possibly offer me, Baron Ravel?’

Ravel growled, ‘Woman, you misjudge yourself to think yourself my equal.’

‘I am not your equal, sir, I am your better.’

‘You are a woman! You and your wealth are nothing compared to me!’

The sound of Ravel’s rant silenced the gathering. All at once the many gathered faces turned toward the dais. The music stopped. Jazana Carr twirled a thin finger in the air to start it up again. The musicians obeyed, but the soldiers in the room continued staring. Ravel was breathing hard. His face flushed with embarrassment.

‘My lady, you presume too much. I am not a man who yields. I came here in good faith, to strike a bargain that benefits us both.’

‘I didn’t bring you here to bargain, Baron Ravel. I brought you here to show you what you’re up against. You’ve seen my men, the army that I have at my fingertips. I should think my intentions are clear, even to a fat-headed merchant like yourself.’ Jazana Carr stopped smiling. ‘I made a promise to an old friend to take Liiria and make it mine. I won’t be stopped by some horse-trader looking to make a deal.’ With one finger she flicked the remaining ring on the table under Ravel’s nose. ‘This is my offer, Baron – this ring for Andola. You may remain governor, and that is all.’

‘What?’ Ravel erupted. ‘Witch! This insult is inexcusable!’

‘I don’t dicker like a fishmonger, Lord Ravel. That ring is the only payment you’ll ever get from me. Take what I’m offering and you’ll live a long, fat life.’

‘And if I don’t?’ hissed Ravel. ‘What will you do? What can you possibly do to
me
?’