The Diplomat (20 page)

“But you couldn’t question him on this marriage?”

“No.” Rema stared at the court wall until its stones blurred together. “He believes that these brides are his to take. I did fight him for a time, until the pain of doing so became too great. Yet I should have kept fighting until he killed me. That would be better than this.”

Muhan patted her on the shoulder. “Evil men have short lives. Who knows what the future holds?”

“Who knows indeed.” Rema raised her head and straightened her back. She had dwelt enough in pity. “Do you know where Domyr and the Narandane servants are being quartered?”

“Of course. Like you, I pay attention. It’d be easier to show you than to describe. Shall I lead the way?”

“Please do.”

They left the echoing court behind them. After a short walk, Muhan took her to a hall that ended at a doorway flanked by two armed men. “In there.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to see you again before I leave.”

“Perhaps at dinner. I imagine you have no desire to dine with the royalty at present.”

Rema clasped her hands in a sign of farewell, and Muhan copied the gesture before returning the way they had come, the ends of his colorful tunic drifting through the air. After a pensive pause, she continued down the corridor.

“Good day, my lord,” said the shorter of the two guards.

“Lady,” said the other guard. “It’s that imperial diplomat, you oaf.”

“Ah.” The first guard scratched at his beard. “My apologies.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Rema. “I’d like to speak to Domyr, if that’s allowed.”

The guards glanced at each other, and the first shrugged. “I suppose there’s no reason why not. Diplomats talking to diplomats. Makes sense.”

“Thank you.” Rema pushed the door open. The wide chamber beyond was furnished with several worn but well-padded chairs, all of which circled a low, flat table. Domyr was sitting in one of the chairs, while his two remaining servants waited in the corner of the room.

Domyr raised his head. “Most honored Remela. I was distressed to hear that my man attacked you. I am pleased you survived.”

“I’m quite pleased as well.” Rema settled into the armchair with the closest view of Domyr’s stern features. “You’ll excuse me if I get right to my point.”

“Nobody with wisdom can object to brevity.”

“I want you never to reveal the identity of the Danoshan traitor.” Rema leaned forward, staring into Domyr’s depthless eyes. “And when you get back to Lyorn, I want you to burn the letter that you were sent.”

It was no wonder Domyr had been chosen to impersonate a diplomat; Rema had seen statues betray more emotion. Still, she had little doubt he comprehended her.

“I know you won’t confirm a single word I’m saying,” said Rema. “That doesn’t matter. I also know that in a day or two you’ll leave the capital on your way back to Lyorn. We both understand there’s no evidence to link you to the attack on my person.”

“Lyorn? You are confused. I am a Narandane.” Domyr’s lips betrayed the barest hint of a smile.

“A Narandane from Lyorn. And when you return home, you and your servants will be very rich people.” Rema took out her purse and spilled its contents across the table. Golden coins bounced and clinked together. Domyr’s eyes lowered to take in the wealth before him, but his face remained impassive. “In either Narandor or Lyorn, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what even a fifth of this could buy. All you need to do is burn the letter and never speak a word of this affair again.”

“Your words are nonsensical and bewilder me.” Domyr half-closed his eyes as he reclined in his chair. “You also appear to have spilled money on the table. Perhaps this is some consequence of your injury.”

“That’s right. I’ve injured myself, I’m rambling and I’ve spilled my coin purse, but I’m far too rich and lazy to pick the coins up. If you gather them for me, I’ll reward you by letting you keep them all.”

Domyr glanced at his servants, and a smile finally broke the sullen cast of his face. “I see now why my people fled the West. The heat there has a terrible effect upon one’s senses.”

“You should be grateful. Calan wanted this war to last a generation. If he’d had his way, you’d have seen many villages destroyed and buried too many dead. I’ve taken away your victory, and in return I’ve given you peace. Savor it for some time before you decide to break it again. You might just find that it appeals to you.”

Domyr chuckled, deep and guttural. “While your words are nothing but strange fancies, I will do what I can to appease your whims.”

“That’s all I request.”

Rema bowed, pushed the empty coin purse back into her pocket and left the room. She nodded to the guards before returning down the hallway. Much had been resolved, but her work in Danosha was not quite done. There remained one loose thread, the one most liable to cause her agreement to unravel—and before she confronted it, she needed a moment’s respite.

The kitchen was abandoned but for a few dour-faced servants. Alys was in the pantry, crouching by a sack of grain and chasing out weevils. “Hello, Alys,” said Rema. “I’d like to take some food back to my room. Do you have time to help me?”

“Yes!” Alys shook a weevil from her fingertip and dashed to the pantry with Rema in tow. “We have honey today, Rema, and there’s a loaf just about to come warm out of the oven.”

“Lucky me. I’ve also become fond of that cheese.”

“You’ll get fat.” Alys wagged her finger. “And then you won’t fit into your magnificent trousers anymore. What a shame that will be. Here, have these grapes too. I’ll put them in this bowl.”

“Grapes as well? I will get fat.” Rema ducked as a servant walked past carrying an enormous leg of lamb, and Alys laughed. “It’s certainly quieter than usual. Usually the kitchens seem hectic at this time of day.”

“Well, of course! Everyone knows the news. First you were attacked, and everybody was worried for you. I’m so happy to see you safe. Then we all find out that our beloved Lady Elise is going away, so nobody’s in much of a mood to smile. Who’s going to tend to our bunions now?”

“Let’s hurry. I want to get back to my room, and I’m hungry.” They began their journey to Rema’s chamber, Alys carrying the tray while Rema clutched the bowl of grapes to her chest. With all her recent distractions, she had almost forgotten about the fresh wound on her back, but now the insistent pain returned. If only she had some of Elise’s numbing ointment on hand.

Upon reaching for her bedchamber door, Rema hesitated—damn it all, the key was still in the pocket of her ruined coat. “I don’t have my key. Elise has it.”

“Don’t fret,” said Alys. “I’ll go get another.”

She darted away, leaving Rema to guard the food. The wound gnawed at her, made worse by her exhaustion from walking the palace—she would likely dream for weeks of walking these bleak halls. It was unfair. Injured and tired as she was, she ought to be in bed with a beautiful woman feeding her these grapes by hand. Perhaps Jalaya, her sweet singer, so tender with her affections…and what would Elise make of that?

After some minutes, Alys returned triumphantly waving a key. As they entered the room, Rema noted her clean outfit folded on the bed, just as Yorin had promised. It was just as well she’d remembered to bring a spare; it would have been shameful to return without a uniform.

“Here you are.” Alys placed the tray on Rema’s bedside table and, after a moment’s indecision, dropped the bowl of grapes on her bed. “You sleep and get well! You look very pale.”

“I’ll try.” Rema sat on the bed, sipped water from a flask and crunched a grape between her teeth. As Rema ate, Alys hovered in the doorway.

“Will you be leaving us soon, Rema?”

“I’m afraid so, but I’ll say goodbye before I do.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I stole some trousers from one of the servant boys, and I’ve been wearing them in secret. They’re so comfortable, and I feel tough! I don’t know why we’re not supposed to!”

“There’s no sensible law that says we can’t. People will stare at you and sometimes poke fun, but that’s their problem, not yours.”

“You’re so wise. I wish all women could be like you. You don’t take lip from anyone, and you’re just as smart as Yorin. I thought he was the smartest person in the world until I met you.”

Rema forced a smile. As sweet as the compliment was, it left her heart heavy. As a servant woman in a feudal kingdom, Alys would always struggle against an inescapable tyranny that enfolded her life with cruelties. Perhaps Loric would set things right; he was a gentle boy and would become a good man. But then, Rema had once thought the same about Ormun. An old sorrow moved in her soul, and she banished her unhappy thoughts. “Don’t flatter me. I’ve too much pride as it is.”

Alys danced out of sight, closing the door as she went. Rema picked at her food, and when it was gone she lay on her side, waiting. If she remained still, the wound didn’t seem to bother her, and she found that when she breathed slowly, she could even relax. Unfortunately, such relaxation caused her thoughts to drift inevitably to Elise. The voyage home was certain to be a nightmare. Every day Elise would be taken closer to the fate she’d feared her entire life, and Rema would be there to watch her fall deeper into despair, unable to console her…

The sound of the door opening woke Rema from a drowsy, feverish slumber. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, sitting upright.

“You’re a sly one,” said Bannon, closing the door behind him and pulling back his hood. He scrutinized the room with his pale eyes. Apparently satisfied, he reclined against the door and pushed his thumbs into the loop of his belt. “For someone who was almost killed today, you’ve accomplished quite a bit, haven’t you?”

“You understood my message then.”

“You knew that I would. By the way, Calan was livid when you left. He took it out on the prisoner, which I’m sure will hurt you to know.”

Nausea touched Rema’s throat—the brutality never ended, it seemed. “I’m sure you did everything you could to stop him.”

“Not my responsibility. I will say, though, watching the two of you go at each other was entertaining. You made it very clear who is the top dog.”

“I can see we comprehend each other. How much?”

“Thirty thousand gold imperials, property—nothing fancy—and safe passage to Arann. Lyorn is very eager to get their hands on me, and every day their claws get closer. Calan’s too dumb to see it, of course.”

“Agreed. You’ll travel back with me, and upon our return I’ll pay you the money. You should understand that I loathe you and everything that you’ve done.”

“My heart breaks.” Bannon chuckled. “I’m curious. How could you be so sure I’d understand your intention and come to you?”

“Believe it or not, Bannon, but you’re not the first greedy, ambitious mercenary I’ve met.”

Bannon’s mellow laugh was an odd contrast to his unfeeling eyes. “You’re a subtle operator. A few hints about your wealth, cutting Calan down to size, all the while trying to coax me into realizing that I’ve put my money on the wrong cock.”

“I hope you’re talking about roosters. Otherwise, I have some surprising news for you.”

“I do enjoy that wit of yours.” Bannon flashed a mouthful of even teeth. “You know, the worst thing about Calan is that he has no sense of humor. Well, he thinks he does, but it all comes down to crude jokes about women. Me, I know the rougher corners of the world, and I’ve met plenty of women who could break Calan over their knee.”

“So I take it you won’t lose any sleep over your betrayal.”

“No man alive sleeps sounder than me. At any rate, you’re lucky I came. Now Calan’s been denied his precious war, he’s told me to execute our bloody little backup plan. An hour after midnight tonight, another assassin and I will dispatch certain targets. Loric, Cedrin, Talitha. You too. Calan would love to do you himself, but he’s afraid to spill the blood of an imperial diplomat. The steward survives, because Calan knows the court would collapse without him. As for his sister, he intends to kill her with his own hands.”

Rema maintained her composure, but it was hard to keep the horror from her voice. “And then?”

“And then I go to Calan’s chamber with this other assassin, who believes we’re about to receive our payment. I kill the poor bastard right there, make it look like a struggle. In the morning it appears that Calan, alone of everyone, has escaped death by waking just in time to cut down his assailant. I pocket some money and wipe my blade clean.”

Rema stared at him in disgusted fascination. “And you’d have done it, too, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve done so much worse, believe me. But I got your hint and understood it very well. You can cut me a better deal, and Calan’s an idiot who will get me killed eventually. You’re a clever woman, Rema.”

“I do my best. And now you’ll earn my money by making it seem to Calan as if the plan is going ahead. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’d hate to be on your bad side.” Bannon gave an amused snort. “Well, that’s a stupid thing to say. I am on your bad side.” He threw a salute before opening the door. “We’ll talk again tomorrow. Oh, and try not to look at me with so much revulsion, it’s ever so hurtful.”

“Get on your way. I’ve had enough of the sight of you.”

Bannon sauntered away, leaving the door open. Rema tried to stand, but her knees had stiffened again. She rubbed them, and when the pain eased she tottered to her feet, scarcely able to stay upright. It seemed her work would never be done.

She found Yorin haranguing maids in the kitchen. He peered at Rema, sighed and dismissed the maids with a gesture. “Be off with you, and don’t do it again,” he said as they scattered. “Rema, you were prudent to leave the throne room when you did. Loric continued ranting, the Queen became very upset, the King shouted at them both and then Elise shouted at him. It’s a good thing nobody was armed.”

The image was amusing, but Rema was too tired to laugh. “Poor Elise.”

“She’s in your hands now. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“And how do you feel about the state of affairs?”

“There’s a decent chance I’ll see my boy alive again. You can’t imagine what that feels like. I’ve become so cheerful I even gave the head cook the night off, and now of course we’re all far behind for dinner.”