The Dragon of Despair (54 page)

Lord Polr seriously considered this last possibility for the first time since his initial briefing. Well, if they wanted a fight, he’d give them a fight, for the good of king and country—and for the honor of the Shields.

SETTLING INTO HASAMEMORRI’S HOUSE
should have been easy and peaceful.

Their enormously fat landlady, dressed as ever in something floating and pink, her facial ornamentation in shades of the same color, was delighted to see them. Clearly, as far as Hasamemorri was concerned, they were not foreigners of questionable character who had been forced to flee the city on rather short notice. They were valued clients.

I wonder if Hasamemorri ever figured out that Edlin and Derian doped her and her maids the night we left,
Elise thought, recalling the tea Doc had blended.
Probably not, judging from this welcome. And, of course, that welcome has more to do with Doc than with all the rest of us combined.

Indeed, they had barely finished dinner their first evening in Dragon’s Breath before Hasamemorri had plunked down in a chair in their former consulting room, propping her plump leg up on a footstool so Doc could check on her perpetually aching knees.

Doc had just knelt to examine the tormented joint when a loud scream of raw, unornamented terror came from the backyard.

Elise bolted from her place at Doc’s side and dashed down the center corridor to the kitchen. She arrived just as Wendee pulled open the door into the yard. The action admitted a thunderingly angry Firekeeper, who was alternately kicking and shoving in front of her a New Kelvinese in kilted robes. Although he was at least half again as tall as Firekeeper—and apparently in the prime of life—the wolf-woman was having no trouble herding him as she wished.

“Thief or bandit?” Firekeeper demanded sharply. “What is it when a man is in the dark listening at windows? Do I cut his throat or not?”

The man wailed in such wordless terror that Elise felt a sudden wash of pity for him. Thief or not, meeting Firekeeper in the dark was not something she would wish on anyone.

“Let’s ask him,” Elise suggested. “Is he armed?”

“Two arms,” Firekeeper said, contemptuously letting go of her captive, her Fang blossoming in her hand as she did so. “You see if more.”

“Don’t do anything threatening,” Elise advised the man in her most formal New Kelvinese. “I won’t answer for my companion otherwise.”

The man turned his face up to her imploringly and Elise saw clearly defined on his right cheek the stylized spindle that was the mark of the Sodality of Sericulturalists. Otherwise, he wore minimal paint—just a few dark lines defining brow and jaw. Elise recalled that the Sericulturalists usually wore less paint than the majority of New Kelvinese, lest they mar the exquisite fabrics that were their pride and their responsibility.

Certainly the man’s robes seemed to confirm him as a member of the Sericulturalists. Elise couldn’t recall when she’d seen such magnificent silk. Its dark blue dyes were deceptively simple, doubtless to show off the quality of the weave.

“I am,” the man replied, also in New Kelvinese, his voice trembling, “Nstasius, least Prime of the Sodality of Sericulturalists. I beg you, do not let that mad creature kill me!”

“Lady Blysse,” Elise said slowly, “has had a very difficult visit here in New Kelvin. She did not expect to find such an honored personage prowling in our back garden. Neither, for that matter, did I. Do you wish to explain yourself?”

Elise was aware that the rest of their company had joined them, even Peace, who hovered almost unseen in the partially open kitchen door, Citrine clinging to his robes.

Demonstrating the tact and prudence that had made her such a fine landlady during their former visit, Hasamemorri was lumbering up the stair to her own apartments. In a few moments, the door that separated the two portions of the house was heard to firmly shut.

Elise felt vaguely strange when she realized that no one was going to take over interrogating Firekeeper’s catch, but she pressed on.

“And what, Nstasius of the Sericulturalists, were you doing in our back garden?”

“Actually,” he said, looking a trace calmer, “I was around the side of the house when this…Lady Blysse took exception to my presence. She brought me around to the back.”

Elise repeated the gist of this to Firekeeper, who nodded.

“That is so,” Firekeeper said, grinning wickedly. “I think it not good for Hasamemorri if I bring this in front door. Blind Seer,” she added apparently as an afterthought, “is seeing if there is more.”

“Nstasius,” Elise said, “tell me quickly. Did you have any companions in your spying?”

“Spying!” he protested indignantly. “I was not…”

“Later,” Elise interrupted. “Answer my question. Any companion of yours may be in grave danger.”

Nstasius shook his head.

“I was alone,” he replied, “but I was not spying. I was trying to learn if you had retired for the evening. I had no wish to draw your landlady’s attention if you had done so.”

Derian, his New Kelvinese understandable if unpolished, interjected, “Well, you’ve failed there, and I hope you’ve told the truth about companions. Lady Blysse isn’t the most formidable of our guards.”

Nstasius looked unbelieving, but reasserted that he had been alone. Shaking down his kilted robes, he added, “I wished to speak with you of Hawk Haven about matters that would benefit us both, but I wished that our audience be private.”

“Wait a moment,” Elise said, “while I translate your request for those of my companions who do not speak your language.”

She did so. When she had concluded Doc spoke for the company.

“I don’t see what harm listening will do. Does our visitor speak Pellish?”

“A little,” Nstasius answered when Elise put the question to him, “but for such complex matters I would be happier speaking my own language—especially since this lady speaks it so well.”

No one argued that this should be otherwise and so everyone except for Grateful Peace and Citrine adjourned to the consulting room. The kitchen was public space shared with Hasamemorri and even the most tactful of landladies should not be tempted beyond reason.

Elise wished they had reason to include Peace in the conference, but prudence dictated that no undue attention be drawn to one who was—after all—simply a hired guide.

“I represent,” Nstasius began when all of them were settled, “a group vitally interested in better, more open relations with those lands that neighbor our own. My associates and myself hold progressive views regarding how New Kelvin should best advance. For too long have resources been diverted to antiquated and arcane interests that benefit none but a few researchers. We would see that change. We see Hawk Haven as a strong ally in our cause.”

One of those, then,
Elise thought as she translated for the others,
who oppose the policies of the current Dragon Speaker. King Tedric spoke of such.

“This is interesting,” she said aloud. “Why do you bring this matter to us? If you have heard rumors that Lord Kestrel and myself represent a potential market for your country’s goods, you are correct, but our finances are not vast.”

Nstasius did not look disappointed. Indeed, he looked rather pleased.

“You might find that your resources buy more than you had imagined possible,” he said delicately, “if you were to make your purchases through those with whom you have established friendly ties.”

“Isn’t that always the case?” Elise replied blandly, being deliberately obtuse.

Nstasius looked momentarily frustrated, then said, “Let us say, then, if your friends were in positions of power within the government and so able to grant trade concessions.”

“I begin to understand,” Elise said. From the look in Derian’s eyes, the horse trader’s son did too. “That would be very nice, but how could we assist you to promote yourselves and your allies into those positions?”

Nstasius tugged sharply at the end of his braid, twisting the coordinated blue ribbon around the end of his finger.

“Consolor Melina,” he said abruptly. “She is a new power among us. She is your countrywoman. Our hope is that you can help us to understand her.”

Understand?
Elise thought.
You would not like at all what we could help you to understand, Prime Nstasius.

Aloud she said, “Lord Kestrel and I are not close associates of the lady. She is of our parents’ generation. Still, if you tell us what you know of her and what she has done to make herself a power here—for we understand that a Consolor is not the same as a queen in our own land—then perhaps we can be of some assistance. Surely, there can be nothing wrong with promoting understanding between such different cultures.”

Nstasius managed to look relieved, sly, and eager all at once. Elise rattled off a rapid translation of what had passed. When she had finished, Firekeeper rose and stretched.

“I go see if Blind Seer find anyone else,” she suggested, sheathing her Fang.

“I’ll walk you out,” Wendee said, clearly determined that neither Firekeeper nor Blind Seer be given excuse to rough up other visitors, “and see if there’s enough warm water for tea. We could be talking for a while.”

Elise appreciated Wendee’s simple practicality—and the insight to the more complicated problem that it demonstrated.

They had been several hours on the road that morning, spent much of the day unpacking, and every bone in her body longed for bed, but this Nstasius wouldn’t have come so soon after their arrival or so secretly if he didn’t think that his business was urgent.

Prime Nstasius, too, would probably have preferred a meeting where they would have been more awake, more alert. Or would he?

Her own head spinning with possibilities, Elise prompted, “You were about to tell us what Consolor Melina has done to make herself such an influence in the nine moonspans in which she has dwelt in New Kelvin. We are especially curious how a foreigner could have so deeply involved herself in a land that so values tradition.”

“Consolor Melina has deeply embraced New Kelvinese manners and customs,” Nstasius began slowly. “Indeed there are those who say she shames those of us who desire change. Consolor Melina soaks up information about our past as a towel does water. There is no legend so obscure that she will not listen to it, no dance or ritual so arcane that she will not observe it. For those of us who had hoped to see such nonprofitable rites take a background to forward-minded production and trade, this is disquieting.”

Derian leaned forward and asked in his awkward but serviceable New Kelvinese, “Do you and your associates then hope to become another Waterland?”

Nstasius looked appalled, almost angry, then thoughtful.

“I can see how a foreigner might so perceive it. No, we do not. We would simply see some resources allocated in directions other than those that are chosen by Apheros and his cronies.”

Derian nodded and sat back, but Elise was certain that he—like her—suspected that Nstasius was not telling them everything. Therefore, she felt quite comfortable being less than complete in her report on Melina.

Elise spoke at some length about the woman: her late husband, her children, her family estate. She mentioned the importance of House Gyrfalcon, into which Melina had been born, and explained in greater detail than she would have thought necessary about inherited positions.

However, neither Elise nor any of her companions said anything about Melina’s singular hold over her children or how Sapphire had broken that hold. To do so would cast doubt on the crown princess, and this foreigner had not proven himself trustworthy.

By then the hour was so advanced that Elise must smother yawn after yawn behind her palm. At last, Nstasius apologized:

“I fear I have been untactful and unkind, but I wished to make this contact before your arrival was widely known. May we meet again?”

Elise considered.

“Perhaps it would be better if arrangements were made through the Hawk Haven ambassador. Lord Kestrel and I are meeting with her tomorrow.”

Nstasius neither agreed nor disagreed with this suggestion, but nodded thoughtfully.

“I shall consider your suggestion,” he said.

Firekeeper had not reentered the consulting room after her departure, but she was waiting in the central hall when they exited. Blind Seer was with her and Nstasius poorly concealed his shock.

Firekeeper bared her teeth, and the expression was not quite a smile.

“This was the only one this close,” she reported, “but I think some wait for him. We did not frighten them.”

Elise nodded.

“Thank you for your visit, Prime Nstasius,” she said. “If you have questions more precise—or perhaps specific actions of your Healed One’s Consolor you wish interpreted—please do not hesitate to contact us.”

Nstasius sketched a brief but respectful departure ritual that included them all.

“Thank you,” he said.

When he was gone and the door secured Firekeeper said, “Bee Biter will follow him to his nest, just to see if his pack is as he says.”

“Good,” Elise said.

Firekeeper wasn’t done with the matter.