The Diplomat (33 page)

“And you make number five. Are you just showing off how clever you think you are, or is there a point?”

“There’s a point. You just have to tell me who to stick it in.”

So it was going to be that kind of game. At least Rema knew the rules. “And then you’d sell me out just like you sold out Calan. Haran could pay you as much as I. Ormun even more.”

Bannon grinned. “Difference is, Calan was an idiot. I never knew if I was going to get paid or if he was going to get us both killed. And I doubt I’ll improve my chances by working for a mad Emperor or a lawman. But you? You’d stick to your word, you’d keep my throat intact, and you’re tougher than any man I’ve met. Working for you would be a pleasure.”

Rema frowned. A compliment from a man like Bannon was worse than an insult from a friend. “We both know that I don’t approve of your methods. I’m hardly about to give you more money to reward your butchery.”

“Still, let’s hypothesize. I’ve explored the palace a little and talked to a few people since I got here. Oh, yes, I got past the guards, don’t raise your eyebrow like that. First interesting fact: Ormun is rarely guarded. In his meeting chambers, no guards. At dinner, no guards. Even walking the palace he’s rarely guarded. He only has guards in his throne room and one outside his bedchamber. How does a man with so many enemies stay alive?”

“Fear, I suppose. Even if he dies, the law will outlive him, such as it is. Where can an assassin flee to when the Empire controls two-thirds of the continent? And even if they escaped, the end result would still only be that Betany takes charge, a prospect that appeals to nobody except Haran.”

“Many assassins are fearless.” Bannon drummed his fingers on his knee. “But let’s move on. I think it interesting that one of the captains of guard is a friend of yours.”

“I see where you’re going, but no. Just because he’s captain doesn’t mean he can order the guards to do something treasonous. There are a lot of ambitious men serving in the palace guard, and they’d happily turn Artunos over to Ormun if they thought he was plotting a coup.”

Bannon’s laughter was improbably charming, coming as it did from such a vile source. “When I backstab a friend to get ahead, they call me a monster. When someone does it at court, they call it ambition!” He chuckled again before sobering. “Fine, fine. Tell me, why don’t you just walk out of here with the woman on your arm? Nobody could stop you.”

“Because without me, my friends here will die. Don’t think I haven’t been tempted.”

“Then do the noble thing and arrange for her to be smuggled off. Remain here without her.”

The challenge in his eyes was obvious, and to her shame, Rema found herself unable to meet it. “Selfish, selfish,” Bannon said as she stared at the table. “Yes, it’s true. I could escort her to safety and you might never see her again. Is it worth it?”

“How long would she survive?” Rema picked up an onyx paperweight and turned it in her hands. “She’d be alone and in an unfamiliar city. She’s resourceful and clever, but she’s spent her entire life in the one room of a palace. The world is bigger than she can comprehend. She needs me.”

“An implausible response. I could take her to a safe house in the city where you could visit her.”

Damn his relentless logic. “No use. The moment she’s gone, Ormun will suspect I’m involved, and it’ll likely end up with my execution.”

“It’s no wonder you don’t get anywhere. You’re a terrible pessimist.”

“Unlike your jolly self.” Rema forced herself to look again into his unsettling eyes. “Tell me what I’ve overlooked, then.”

Bannon leaned closer. “You don’t think I started out working for Calan, did you? I’ve been around. Danosha was a refuge from a bounty I picked up in Lyorn, and I was in Lyorn because I managed to stir up some trouble in Kalanis. I’ll admit Arann is bigger than I’m used to, but I’m a quick learner. You’ve overlooked me.”

Rema dropped the paperweight with a wooden thud. “I’ve written you a letter of credit.” She slid a piece of paper across the desk. “I’ll start discussing property with those who can arrange it—that’ll take time. As far as I’m concerned, after that, we’ll no longer need to deal with each other.”

Bannon’s smile widened. “Your tongue and eyes disagree with each other. You’re so desperate to help her, it’s driving you mad. If it helps, think of me as a tool. Better a good woman direct me than a bad man. I’ll only hurt those you direct me to. I don’t get pleasure from killing, you know. Just pleasure from a job well done.” He gave another pleasant chuckle. “And sometimes, well, that means killing.”

Rema lowered her head, letting his words play through her mind. The late morning sun warmed her back, and the mingled odors of the garden drifted through the window. If not for the fiendish presence opposite her, she could almost be at peace. “You should be in jail in at least three different kingdoms.”

“But I’m not.”

The plan Rema had in mind could easily fail, and to think of the consequences of that failure set her insides trembling. Still, she was tired of scheming and appeasing. It was time to be clear of heart and conscience once more, so that she could look into Elise’s eyes without guilt. Perhaps such moral clarity was an infantile dream, and Elise’s grand tantrums merely naivety stamping its foot. But even if that were true, Rema would love her all the same, for her strange magic, her wild appearance and her furious and undaunted will.

“I haven’t decided on anything,” said Rema. “But I doubt you’ll hear from me again.”

Bannon shrugged as if he’d never expected any other response. “I’ll be around. Skulking, as you all put it. Even if you turn down my offer, there’s profit to be made here. I see many people with many problems. Be sure you hire me first, Rema.”

“I’m sure you can show yourself out.” Rema gestured to the door.

“Indeed!” Bannon took the letter of credit from the desk and leapt to his feet. “A pleasure doing business with you. Our debt is almost settled.”

“I’ll be sure to arrange you a house with no mirrors, lest you frighten yourself.”

Bannon was still laughing as he closed the door. Rema sighed and poured herself a glass of wine from the cabinet beside her desk. She felt old today, every bit of her thirty years. And wasn’t she going to be thirty-one in only five months? She needed a distraction from her worries. An image of Jalaya immediately came to mind, and she sighed again. A different distraction. She reached for her quill. Two months of paperwork seemed as effective a diversion as any.

First she had to write a report of her trip to Danosha, including any observations that might be of interest to Calicio, the spymaster. Following that was a request to Sothis to arrange troops and provisions; an accompanying letter to Ferruro, adding her name to the request for funds that would be necessary for such an endeavor; and another letter to Ferruro requesting her pay for the previous two months, as well as the bonus she was entitled to for a successful diplomatic mission. After some thought, she also wrote a letter to Haran formally protesting his proposal to criminalize speech. Only at the last line did she realize that, regardless of the failure or success of her plan, the letter would never be necessary. She grumbled and filled the rest of the page with scribbled pictures of Elise and half-remembered lines of poetry.

By the time she was done, she had gone through half an inkwell, her fingers were clenched and weary, and the light behind her had faded into dullness. She splashed her face with water from a bowl, and the cold touch shivered her into alertness. Seeing Jalaya and Elise together had made Rema conscious of her age, and now she peered closely at her reflection, frowning at the lines on her forehead. Her slim wrists and forearms were concerning. Was she eating enough? She’d forgotten to have lunch yet again, and soon she’d have to start thinking about dinner.

At least there was still time to visit Elise before the evening’s conspiracies began. The thought was cheering, and Rema whistled as she walked through the winding corridors. It was all this traveling that made her so thin, surely, always marching from one room of some court to another. Perhaps Elise would be willing to take an early dinner somewhere in the palace. They would eat a grand main, followed by dessert—yogurt, perhaps, with honey and cinnamon. Elise would get some on her cheek, and Rema would lick it off…

Rema knocked on Elise’s door as if in a dream. The door opened, and she smiled into Elise’s round, untidy features. “Rema!” said Elise, her eyes lighting. “Come in, you divinity.”

So she was in a good mood, thank the gods. Amazing what one could achieve with a passionate kiss, a fervent declaration and a clever tongue.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elise’s room was a catastrophe of books and open crates. Scattered among the tomes was an indecipherable assortment of odds and ends, eldritch crystals and powders of every conceivable color. Elise—strangely enough—had changed into a tight silver dress slashed at the right thigh to reveal most of her leg. Most unexpected of all, however, was Jalaya, who was sitting on a side table swinging her feet. She grinned at Rema and fluttered her long lashes.

“What are you doing here?” said Rema. Even now, the sight of that gentle little face provoked a whirling mingle of guilt, regret and jealousy that was entirely outside Rema’s comprehension.

“I’m keeping Elsie company,” said Jalaya. “I know you’re as busy as the breeze, and I couldn’t let her sit glumly by herself.”

“Well, I had work to do.” Rema closed the door and stared at the room around her. “Where can I sit in all this mess?”

“That pile of books looks like a good Rema-seat.” Jalaya’s tone grew sly. “I heard you kissed her for the first time today. I was shocked.”

Rema’s cheeks warmed. Gossiping little imps. “And why did that shock you?”

“Three weeks at sea, and you never even touched her once? I don’t think I could have had your restraint.”

During their exchange, Elise had returned to her desk and grown busy again with her work. Hearing Jalaya’s words, she drew back her unruly wave of hair to reveal a smile. “Jalaya’s been good company,” she said, sifting a powder through her hands. “We gossiped for a little, and she helped me unpack. She became excited when she saw my dresses, so I put some on for her.”

Jalaya put a hand over her lips as she giggled. “Don’t look at me like that, Rema. I covered my eyes while she was changing.”

It was a typical Jalaya prank. Rema willed back her creeping envy. “And you never once peeked between your fingers?”

“Not once.” Jalaya spoke with absolute solemnity—the surest sign that she was lying.

“In other words, more than once.”

Jalaya laughed again, and Elise turned red. “You said you wouldn’t! Jalaya, really!”

“I only peeked a little, I swear.” Jalaya winked. “She also asked me countless questions about lovemaking. I’ve never met someone so interested in the subject. She’s prurient.”

“Try to see it from my perspective,” said Elise. “You two are the only women I’ve met who are like me. For all I know, my servant women were pretending in order to satisfy me. You can’t imagine how it feels to see you two traipsing about unashamed with nobody even stopping to comment. It’s wonderful. I want to know everything I’ve missed out on.”

Rema spotted the promise of a space on the bed and began to clear the books about it. As she shifted the heavy tomes, Elise continued talking. “Jalaya’s father is even worse than mine, it seems. He sold her to a brothel because he discovered her with a woman.”

“Yes, a sad story.” Rema settled between two precarious walls of books. “Most women in our situation have sad stories. Not so me. When my parents first visited me in Arann, my father asked if I’d been seeing any young men. I told him that I’d discovered something far more interesting. He asked if I meant literature, poetry, religion…and I told him no, that I meant young women. Gods, how they laughed. My mother was delighted. She told me I’d be better off with a woman. That they have more sense.”

“I’ll never forget my own meeting with them,” said Jalaya. “Rema’s father and I exchanged verse after verse, and her mother made me sing until my voice was tired. She told me she wished she could bottle my voice and sell it. It was a blissful evening. I seated myself in Rema’s lap, the two of us entangling as lovers will, and her parents showed no perturbation at all. Only the deepest affection.”

Elise bowed her head. “My parents couldn’t have been more different. I still remember my father’s words when I first got caught. ‘Get her married off quickly, Talitha, before anyone finds out.’ That’s what he said.”

“Try to be at peace with them. It’s in the past now, and they’ve learned their error. What else have you two been up to?”

“Elsie told me a little about magic,” said Jalaya. Irritatingly enough, her attention remained entirely on Elise, whose dress tightened suggestively across her body every time she stretched for some new reagent. “It’s complex. I only understood a little.”

“I suppose your thoughts were elsewhere.”

“Are you implying something?” Jalaya widened her innocent eyes. “There’s nothing improper happening in this little head. Oh, Elsie, I think you dropped something under the desk there…”

“Really?” Elise dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to the floor, peering beneath the desk. As Elise’s behind wiggled in the air, its owner oblivious, Jalaya covered her lips and her body shivered beneath countless giggles. Rema found herself smiling as well. She liked Jalaya’s playful way of flirting, which was often more silly than erotic, and it had been thoughtful of her to keep Elise company.

Elise returned to her feet, her face puzzled and suspicious. “I didn’t drop anything.”

Jalaya widened her artless eyes further. “No! Really? Are you sure you don’t want to look again?”

“Oh, you demon.” Elise played with a loose strand of her hair. “I see what you’re doing. Stop ogling me and let me get on with my work.”

“And what is your work?” said Rema.

Elise lifted a vial, and it bubbled goop over her wrist. “I’m working on a solution. You’re going to tell me not to, I suppose.”