The Diplomat (34 page)

“No, but it would nice to know exactly what you have in mind.”

“I won’t tell you yet. Mostly because I’m not sure I’m doing this right, and it may not turn out as I expect it to.” Elise poured the bubbling mixture into another, and the combination wailed and emitted a puff of wavering green smoke. “Your horrible friend Artunos was very rude to me earlier. When he left me here in my chambers, he warned me not to keep tempting you astray.”

“You’re tempting me, but not astray. Don’t worry about him.”

“It took you so long to visit me.” Elise laid down her tools and turned toward Rema. “I want to hear your excuses. How is Muhan?”

“He’s well. He says hello. I had to deal with Bannon as well, and paperwork.”

Elise scrunched her nose. “Bannon. Well, so long as you were properly occupied.” She left the desk and climbed into Rema’s lap. “I missed you.”

Rema slipped a hand into Elise’s forest of hair, feeling for the slender shape of her neck. As she did so, she glanced at Jalaya, who watched with a serene smile. If her face could be so untouched by envy, what excuse did Rema have? Yet it was hard not to be jealous of the way Elise had blushed when she’d learned that Jalaya had watched her dressing—but there, she was doing it again. Was this incessant envy part of being in love, or was it a flaw of her own?

“You’re tense.” Elise squeezed Rema’s shoulders. “I wish there was room on the bed.”

“Do I need to leave you two alone?” said Jalaya. “Or shall I stay here and watch? I could write a scandalous song about you.”

“Don’t you worry. There’ll be no fun for us yet. I have to get this work done. I just wanted to hold my Rema a moment.” Elise played with a lock of Rema’s hair. “You’re so serene, Jalaya. Aren’t you going to miss her now that I’ve stolen her from you?”

Jalaya smiled, but there was something forlorn in the tilt of her lips. “No matter what I’ve tried, she’s always been unhappy. For her, I’d have given up any other lover and spent every moment at her side. Yet if she had chosen me, she would have stayed unhappy, always yearning for something I couldn’t give her.” Tears glistened at the tips of her lashes, and a painful regret gripped Rema’s heart. “I can’t stand up to people the way you two do. I hate conflict. I don’t know magic or diplomacy. I was happy being her little songbird, but she doesn’t need me like she needs you.”

“Jalaya,” said Elise. “Oh, sweetheart, please don’t cry.”

Jalaya brushed the tears from her lashes. “Silly me. I didn’t think I would.”

It was unendurable, hearing that beautiful voice so suffused with sadness. “Jalaya—”

“Don’t say a thing, or I’m going to fall to bits.” Jalaya took a deep breath before returning to her feet. “It’s time for me to fly away. Don’t forget the meeting, Rema. Goodnight, Elsie. I hope I didn’t misbehave too much.”

“Goodnight,” said Elise, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. The moment Jalaya shut the door behind her, Elise tightened her arms around Rema. “I feel so sorry for her. She seems so calm, but it’s obvious she’s missing you terribly inside. I’m trying to imagine how I’d feel if someone took you from me. I’d rip off their face.”

“I have to confess I’ve felt a little jealous lately. You two look charming together.”

“She’s the loveliest person I’ve ever met. I enjoy it when she looks at me, and the naughty way she teases me is tremendous fun. But she’s not you.” Elise raised Rema’s chin and drew their lips together in a brief but searching kiss. The moment their mouths parted, Elise wriggled to her feet. Rema made to pull her back, missing the warmth of her body, but Elise shook her head.

“I have to get back to my work. Believe me, you have no idea how hard it is for me to refuse you after I’ve waited so long to have you.” Elise returned to her desk and dropped a crystal into a vial. The result was a hissing puff of dark yellow smoke, and she looked disappointed.

“I have a plan of my own. It may not work, and for now, it’s safer if you don’t know about it.”

“I trust you. I always knew you wouldn’t sit by while Ormun married me.”

“If only I’d always known that myself. Until a few days ago, that was honestly what I was prepared to do.”

Elise shrieked as she dropped the vial. “Hot!” She shook her hand, her expression rueful. “You may think that, but I know better. Your heart wouldn’t have let you. You’re the woman who took a whipping for me and who slept in my stairwell to protect me from Calan.” Elise mingled two dusts and squeaked in delight. “They changed color! I knew they’d do that!”

“Now I understand why Jalaya was so enrapt. I could watch you do this for hours.”

“You mean you could stare at my behind for hours. You’re both shameless.”

“Bannon offered me his help.” Rema stared into her palms. Even the name was haunting her. “I sent him away, but I wasn’t brave enough to refuse him outright. Once I wouldn’t even have breathed the same air as a man like that.”

Elise put down her tools again and folded her arms. “Rema, I know you agonize over whether your life has been good or bad. Stop worrying and look at the people around you. Jalaya adores you. Loric loved you, and once we’re done, he’ll love you again. My mother admired you and even my father spoke well of you. As for Yorin, I’ve never seen him soften to anyone the way he did to you. And I can’t even put into words the way you make me feel.”

Rema nodded slowly. “When this over, I’m making this empire right again. I’m going to finish the work Togun and I started. I’m going to end these senseless wars and I’ll send these women home.”

“It’s serious, then, this plan of yours.”

“It’s this or death, and I have two days in which to succeed. Losing you would be no different than dying for me.”

“I can’t wait until we’re able to wake together as lovers do. Every morning, before sense returns to me, I’m stricken by the thought that you must be a dream. I want to be able to open my eyes upon waking and see you there, the articulate, passionate woman who returns the full measure of my love.”

“I’ll tell you I love you so many times you’ll get sick of it. But whatever you’re doing, Elsie, be careful. Don’t forget Melnennor.”

Elise opened her eyes wide. “I did forget about the magician! I’d like to meet him.”

“You’re bound to, if you keep up what you’re doing.” Rema stood beside Elise and kissed her neck. “I’m off now for a meeting with my friends. Don’t forget to have some dinner.”

“That awful Artunos said he’d bring me some.” Elise murmured as Rema’s kisses reached her ear. “God. I want you for dinner.”

Rema laughed as she squeezed her. “Hold that thought.”

“I asked Jalaya what you were like as a lover. She was very candid, but I won’t tell you what she said. It’d make you blush.”

“I think I’m blushing now.” Rema kissed Elise once more before pulling away. “Good luck with your mixing.”

“Mixing is only the beginning.” Elise snapped a stick in her hand, and it released a steady stream of soot. “Ooh, that stings my eyes…”

Before leaving the room, Rema stopped to admire Elise, who was staring into the boiling depths of her alembic. Whatever it was that swirled in her concoction radiated a green light, illuminating her round cheeks. Was this the sorcery that had silenced Calan’s prisoner? What would Melnennor make of it, that enigmatic member of court whose craft nobody had ever witnessed firsthand? Rema drew the door shut and cleared her thoughts. Some elements in this struggle were beyond her comprehension and best left there. The meeting with her friends drew nigh, and it was time to call upon her own gift for enchantment.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rema drifted through the silent, darkening corridors, still lost in thoughts of love. As she passed by a courtyard, the crying of a nocturnal bird startled her into alertness. Love was dangerous to the concentration, it seemed.

She arrived at a kitchen and passed through the long rows of ovens into its pantry. A trapdoor rested in one corner, partially hidden by barrels of dried fruit. Rema lifted the trapdoor’s corroded ring and pulled. The door swung before landing with a resonant thud, revealing a flight of stairs. Rema took a tinderbox from her pocket, ignited a nearby torch, lifted it from its bracket and descended into the shadows.

As she reached the bottom, the baleful torchlight outlined the hunched shadows of wine casks and the pointed ears of sacks of grain, most of them no doubt filled with mold or beetles. In one corner, several crates had been upturned and arranged in a semicircle. An imaginative onlooker would have correctly guessed them to mark some secret meeting place. Rema placed the torch at the base of the stairs, took her place, crossed her legs and waited.

Sothis was the first to arrive, his high-collared robe gathering cobwebs as he tottered down the stairs. He walked with a limp, the result of a war injury, and Rema winced in sympathy as he struggled from the final step. His face was ill-humored and sallow, and his heavily-pouched eyes indicated both exhaustion and illness. Rema waved her fingers, and Sothis managed a sickly smile.

“How was your trip?” he said, in his reedy, breathless voice. He was only forty-one, but his health had been poor for as long as Rema had known him.

“Memorable. Would you like me to find you something easier to sit on?”

“No, I’ll survive a few hours.” Sothis settled onto a crate beside her. His labored breathing began to ease to a more measured rhythm. “How are your knees?”

Rema and Sothis often exchanged stories of woe, he complaining about his lungs and she about her aching joints. “They’ve been a little better since I got back to Arann. I think it’s the warm weather.”

“You should take care of them while you’re young. Have a healer look at you.”

“I know, I know, but it’s like admitting that I’m growing old.”

Sothis rasped a thin chuckle. “You are growing old.”

The sound of brisk footsteps heralded the arrival of Artunos, who descended with Muhan walking close behind him. Artunos directed Muhan to a crate and sat beside Rema, his arms folded. “I hope we can trust this man,” he said.

“Have faith in my judgment.” Rema pressed her palms together, and Muhan returned the gesture. “Muhan, I’m glad you joined us this evening.”

“I don’t see the food,” said Muhan, his colorful grin eerie in the flickering light. “A good thing I stuffed myself with suckling pig.”

“Don’t tell me about suckling pig,” said Sothis. “Anything more than liquid makes my stomach ache.”

“Don’t talk about pigs at all,” said a clear voice at the top of the stairs. Jalaya stepped into view, her cheeks bronzed by torchlight. “Whatever did the poor things do to you?” For no clear reason other than her natural tenderness, Jalaya held the unwavering conviction that harming animals—even to eat them—was a grave sin. Rema, who had grown up among hungry merchants, had at first been doubtful such a diet was possible, but Jalaya had worked hard over several years to persuade her, producing endless fragrant dishes filled with spiced roasted vegetables, intensely-colored lentils and nutty yellow rice. Eventually Rema had conceded Jalaya could be right, though she had insisted, to Jalaya’s dismay, that a fish was not an animal.

“Have you heard anything interesting tonight?” Rema said as Jalaya trod softly down the stairs.

“Well, a musician friend told me that Haran and Ferruro are very drunk.”

Artunos’s frown deepened. “A good mood for them means trouble for us.”

“Or they’re drinking to avoid their sorrows,” said Rema. “Jalaya, don’t sit yet. Let’s bring some food down. I haven’t eaten for hours.”

“But I just walked down all those stairs,” said Jalaya, teetering on the last step. “You bully.”

Rema took Jalaya’s hand and pulled her up the stairs to the pantry, where they scoured for food. Jalaya began to fill a basket with fruits and cinnamon loaves, while Rema foraged several lengths of cured meat for the others, ignoring Jalaya’s look of gentle reproach. “Jalaya,” she said. “I’m sorry about earlier. I never realized you felt so strongly about me.”

Jalaya hesitated, her small hand still midreach for a vivid yellow apple. “I should be apologizing. I left in such a sulk.”

“You call that a sulk? You should see how Elise sulks.”

“I’m half in love with her myself.” Jalaya finally snared the apple and dropped it into her basket. “She’s grumpy and she’s strange, but her heart is animated in a way I’ve only seen before in you. I’ve never forgotten how you shouted at that brothel owner until he started to cry. I was in love with you from that moment. I can only imagine how you must have dazzled her.”

“I was fortunate enough to have a gentle father and a ferocious mother to demonstrate what should be obvious. Women have every right to be strong and to claim their equality.”

Jalaya held a pear to her nose, her eyes bright with appreciation. “You always say such serious things. I love how you think, but you never find time to stop.” Her smile grew wicked. “Though I was once able to pause your thoughts by running my fingers across your skin and breathing my passion upon your lips…”

A pleasant shiver ran through Rema’s body. “Jalaya, don’t tease. Come on, let’s take this food.”

“Look at us, the women serving the men. How subservient we are!”

Rema pinched Jalaya on her cheek, and she shrieked and danced away, her eyes sparkling. They returned to the cellar to discover that Calicio had somehow appeared in their absence. He stood some distance from the others, and the torchlight barely reached him, enveloping much of his body in shadow. He was the imperial spymaster, a reclusive and intelligent man; despite being an easterner—the only one among the court’s officials—he spoke Annari like a native. He also kept a male lover at court, and it was only by Rema’s hard work that it was permissible for his consort to be publicly known.

“How did you creep by us?” said Rema, staring at him. “We were up in the pantry the whole time.”

“You were preoccupied. One doesn’t survive twenty years as a spy without being able to sneak past a pair of giggling women.”

Rema shook her head, laughing. “We’re lucky you’re on our side.”

After giving Calicio a quick wave, Jalaya perched atop a wine cask and crossed her legs, exposing for a moment her bare thighs. Muhan lowered his head as if embarrassed, but none of the other men appeared to notice.