A faint frown came and went on Suiden’s face.
“It’s all right, honored captain,” Laurel said.
“I’ve been charged with your safekeeping, Sro Laurel,” Suiden said.
“So you have. Until I reach Iversly. Which I have.” Laurel smiled, showing gleaming eyeteeth, and while the welcome party didn’t step back, they did seem to lean outward a little. The Faena ignored the archdoyen’s glare. “I can hardly lodge with you in the barracks.”
“That is so, Sro Laurel, but while Lieutenant Rabbit has been assigned as your liaison, he is also under my command. I will not let him go off by himself.” The welcome party now looked at me as they would a village simpleton. I heard more snickering and made a ruder gesture.
“Besides,” Suiden said, “Commander Ebner was quite explicit in his directives.” He thought a moment, then turned to the welcome lieutenant. “I know that there will be guards at the embassy. Is it possible we could take over those duties?”
“What a splendid idea,” Javes said. “Why don’t we just toddle along with Ambassador Laurel while you find out, Lieutenant?”
I found myself looking at Captain Javes sidelong. He was doing his silly ass smile (which was a shade different than his silly bugger) but beyond that I saw the wolf in parade dress for the first time.
The welcome lieutenant let out a sigh. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, sirs.” He sighed again and nodded at the clerk. “We will follow you to the ambassador’s residence.” He looked back at Suiden. “Although I doubt, sir, that you will be able to fit your full complement in the residence.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out,” Suiden said. He turned and looked at Groskin. “Give the command to move out, Lieutenant.” At Groskin’s shout, we swung up on our horses and followed the Royal Garrison lieutenant and the clerk, the church clergy staying with us—apparently to bless away any ill intent from the waterfront’s denizens. As we moved through the streets I tried not to gawk, but I was seeing things I had only heard about—and had dismissed as untrue at the time.
“There’s something about sailors that draws whores like flies,” Groskin said as he rode next to me, his mouth quirking up—after he first glanced ahead to make sure the arch-doyen was out of earshot. “Almost as bad as soldiers.” The prostitutes in Freston never looked as raddled as these poor drabs. (I guess there was an advantage to small town living.) One full of pockmarks caught my eye and, after she gave a great hacking cough and spat out what was left of her lungs, smiled, showing blackened teeth. I snapped forward as I heard snickering behind me. I made another rude gesture, then worried that she would see and take it as an invitation. Until we rounded a corner, I sneaked glances back to make sure she wasn’t following.
We wound through the Royal City’s streets, our surroundings improving until we were riding down broad boulevards and through large squares. The bubble was back, the city’s folk doing a double take and then giving wide berth to our party, their eyes wide as they realized that the large cat walking out in front of us was real. The sun beat down and I wondered how Laurel could stand the heat of the paving stones against his bare pads. My toes curled in sympathy. Or at least they tried. I’d sweated so much in my boots that my feet were drowning.
We turned the corner and were in another large square, the center full of trimmed grass, flowers, clipped bushes and trees. We edged along it until we came to a large house and stopped. Losan turned to the Faena.
“Your residence, Ambassador.”
“Where are his guards?” Suiden asked, his brows raised.
“Uh, I’m sure they’ll be along soon,” Losan said, looking at the lieutenant.
“Not my jurisdiction,” he replied, shrugging.
“It’s just as well, then, that we came here,” Suiden said, swinging down from his horse. He walked up to the door and knocked. We waited. He knocked again. We waited again. He tried the door and it swung open, showing a darkened hall with no one in sight. “Where are the embassy servants?”
“Normally ambassadors supply their own,” Losan said.
“Yes, but Commander Ebner’s missive stated that Sro Laurel had no retinue.”
“Uh—”
Suiden sighed and came back to Laurel. “It is, then, just as well that we are here.” He looked at Losan. “I am sure that you will see that the ambassador receives all the servants he needs to run his embassy.”
“And who will pay their wages?” the clerk asked, recovering. She stared down at the Faena, who stood there wearing only beads and feathers, his mouth open as he panted in the heat.
Laurel gave a slight bow. “Do not worry, honored—hmm—do not worry. The High Council took into account the need to support myself. I have more than enough to take care of any expense.”
“The kingdom does not recognize Border coinage,” Losan said. “We’ve heard about fairy gold.”
“As I have no fae gold, there’s no problem.” Laurel turned and looked at the dark—and cool-looking—interior. “But why are we standing out here when we could be in there?” He didn’t wait for an answer but started up the walk to the door.
I swung down from my horse, followed by Groskin and Jeff. We got in front of the Faena and entered first, scanning the foyer. It was like entering a cool cave and Laurel gave a sigh of relief as he reached the hallway tiles. “Much, much better,” he murmured. He turned and caused the clerk, who had followed behind us, to step back again.
“Sweet river of life—”
I figured she wasn’t talking about the Banson as it flowed through the city. I glanced at Laurel and saw his amber eyes were glowing in the dimness. They winked out as he gave a long, slow blink, then came alive again. I looked back out the door and saw our escorts had clustered around the door and were staring at the Faena too, the arch-doyen’s mouth pulling down at the corners. Out beyond them were the troops. I could see Ryson with the luggage carts and behind him, Slevoic leading the spare horses.
“If you would please, Javes, secure the premises,” Suiden said, from the street. “I will go with the lieutenant from the garrison to present the dispatches.” As Suiden rode off with the welcome lieutenant and the church contingent (Doyen Allwyn looked longingly over his shoulder at us), the troop moved in.
It was a large, graceful house, cool in the afternoon heat with smooth walls, colored tiles and arched hallways. It was built around a courtyard, full of lush plants filtering green light through the windows. Some of the ground floor rooms had glass doors and when we opened them, we could hear the splash and tinkle of the fountain in the courtyard center. There were fruit trees and shaded nooks with benches, paving stones and grass, flowers and lattices. I stood at a door, inhaling the fragrance, when the wind sighed and once more I caught scent of the sea.
It was a large, graceful, empty house. Each room was bare—no furniture, no window coverings, no rugs. The kitchen didn’t have a pan, plate or spoon. It did have an indoor pump, and there was one outside by a small vegetable and herb garden that Basel clucked over, but ho bucket in either place. We opened a shed and there wasn’t a hoe or rake to be found.
“Sheesh,” Jeff murmured, looking into the shed’s corners. “They’ve even taken the cobwebs.”
“The ambassador is responsible for furnishing the embassy,” Losan said, when Captain Javes confronted her on the house’s bareness.
“I see,” Javes replied. “And if there’s a pressing need for a chamber pot before he can buy one, what is he supposed to do?” At his words several men shifted uneasily as they were made aware of their own pressing needs (the tinkling fountain didn’t help).