“As you can see, Lord Esclaur, Lieutenant Rabbit is being swamped. We rely upon you to help us navigate this.” Suiden had started to go to his chair when there was a tap at the door. He sighed and waved at his desk. “Just put it there.” I watched as the mountaintops grew in height and Suiden moved to one of the guest chairs to sit. He put his head in his hand, massaging his brow.
Lord Esclaur responded by taking off his lightweight cotton coat, rolling up the sleeves of his lawn shirt, and diving in. The folding table was set up for him, tea and sandwiches were requested, and Jeff and I were pressed into service, ferrying the unread invitations to, removing the rejects from, and maintaining the “keeper” piles in front of the lordling. All the while, Esclaur kept up a running patter of commentary. “What, doing that in this heat? I don’t think so. No. Yes. Yes. Oh, no, you will not go there. My goodness gracious, is she ready to come out?” He picked up an invitation engraved with the Flavan crest and gave a genteel sneer. “I suppose you’ll have to. Family.”
At the end of two hours, we had sorted through all the invitations, had written acceptance replies to all the engagements that Lord Esclaur had deemed that I must attend, and had entered them into datebooks he produced, one for him and one for me. He indicated a few somewhat smaller piles. “These, Lord Rabbit, are invitations for Ambassador Laurel and I’ve separated them into ‘wise to go,’ ‘doesn’t matter one way or another,’ and ‘run for the hills.’ ” He then pointed at other piles. “And these, Prince Suiden, are your and Captain Javes’ invitations. Again, I’ve taken the liberty to sort them.” He started rolling down his sleeves. “I am at your disposal, gracious sirs, to accompany you to any and all of these functions.” He slipped on his coat, adjusting his cuffs. “Fortunately, I’ve also been invited to most of these, and I’m sure a word in the proper ears will take of the rest.”
I followed Esclaur to the door, where he turned and, catching sight of my face, grinned at me—and superimposed briefly on the fop I saw a blue-eyed white wolf of the Upper Reaches. “Oh, do not fret, Lord Rabbit. Remember, life always entails change. Yes, indeed. And the alternative is just not acceptable.” The lordling bowed, turned back to the door and ran into Laurel Faena, followed by Lord Gherat.
“Well, it’s one of the Court’s little lapdogs,” Gherat said, smiling. “Who let you off your leash, Esclaur?”
“Oh, I’m allowed out on my own every once in a while, Gherat,” Esclaur replied. “Especially when there’s a full moon out. You know, to howl and chase shadows.” Laurel and I looked at each other and then back at the two of them.
Gherat shrugged. “Be careful. Sometimes shadows hide things that are real. You wouldn’t want to crack your noggin by running headlong into one.” Just what we needed, I thought, more cryptic rot. Gherat shot a look at me, his eyes widening a little.
Laurel rumbled. “We should not joke about the moon, honored lords. It marks a time of unpleasant remembrance for the Border.” He nodded at Lord Gherat. “But I do have hope to report good things to the High Council. Thank you for bringing me the time of the meeting with the king.” Apparently Lord Esclaur wasn’t the only one who was the victim of Jusson’s humor this morning.
Gherat nodded back at the Faena, a faintly derisive look on his face. “You’re welcome—Ambassador.”
“Well, I’d better be going,” Esclaur said. “But I’ll be back this evening, Lord Rabbit, to accompany you to the rout. Grace to you, messirs.” He did a general bow that yet somehow managed to exclude Gherat, and left.
Which meant we received the full measure of Lord Gherat’s attention. He put on an solicitous expression. “You look a little peaked, Suiden. Too much reception last night?” He smiled. “Though perhaps you should overimbibe more often. I understand you have a rather pleasing baritone, especially when singing the, er, ‘yo hos.’ “
Suiden sighed. “To what do we owe the honor of your prolonged presence, Gherat?”
“Oh, I have many reasons.” Still smiling, Gherat walked over to the invitations. He picked up the Flavan one on top, read it, and flicked it back on the table. “One of which is to see my cousin, Slevoic. I was told, though, that he’s not here.” He picked up another invitation.
“No, he’s not,” Suiden said. He stood up and went to the teapot on his desk. I could hear the gurgle as he poured the last of the tea into his cup. “Slevoic has been assigned to the Royal Garrison stables.”
Gherat froze, then turned to Suiden. “You sent one of my House to work in the stables?”
“Yes,” Suiden said, sipping his tea.
“How dare you.” Gherat’s blue eyes glittered with rage, and both Jeff and I took a step towards him. Laurel caught our arms.
“I dare because he’s under my command and therefore mine to do with as I will.” Suiden raised a brow. “Wasn’t that what Slevoic said when those soldiers were killed?”
While stationed at the Iversly Royal Garrison, Slevoic had forced his unit to ford one of the Banson’s tributaries during a storm, and three troopers had drowned when they were swept from their horses. Even his noble connections couldn’t overcome his causing the needless deaths of his men, and Slevoic was packed off to Freston for his sins. However, looking at Gherat’s face, the shame of being sent to Freston paled in comparison to working in the Royal Garrison stables in full view of all the Vicious’ former mates. Thinking on the blinded trooper Jeff told me about, I smiled.
Gherat struggled for control. “And Lieutenant Groskin?” he asked after a moment. “I also wish to pay my respects to Archdoyen Obruesk’s young friend. Where’s he?”
“Kitchens,” Suiden said briefly, taking another sip of tea.
This time Gherat kept his face rigidly blank, though I could see a muscle jumping by his eye. “I see. Then I will see them another time.” He turned, and met both Laurel’s and my gazes. After another struggle, he gave a short bow, his mouth a thin line. “Sirs.” Straightening, he stalked out of the room, his back stiff. Jeff slipped out after him to make sure he actually went to the front door.
There was silence until we heard the muffled thud of the front door closing; then Laurel softly chuffed. “That was wondrously sweet, honored captain.”
Suiden smiled, briefly. “Yes.” He then winced and, after rubbing his forehead, tried to pour more tea. However, the teapot was empty. Setting pot and cup down, he went behind his desk and sat in his chair, faint lines between his brows.
“I have a remedy for your ailment,” Laurel offered.
“No, thank you.” Suiden gave Laurel a narrow look, but the Faena had moved to the window and the captain had to shut his eyes against the glare. Jeff came back into the room and as Suiden opened his eyes to look at him, he saw the stacks of his own invitations. He sighed. “Can you read and write, trooper?”
“Yes, Captain,” Jeff said.
“Good. You are in charge of my social calendar. Your first duties will be to enter these into my datebook.” Suiden nodded at the invitations and winced, swallowing hard. “No, belay that. Your first duty is to get me a pot of tea. Strong.”
“What about Rabbit, sir?”
“He can damn well wait here until you’re done.” Suiden closed his eyes again. “Javes should be back any minute. He went to get some additions to your wardrobe, Lieutenant, so that you’ll be presentable when you go out on the town.” Jeff gave a faint snicker as he went out the door again, but I didn’t care. I was staring at the captain in horror, seeing myself with a giant quiz glass hung around my neck, the weight bending me over to the ground.
“Don’t worry, Rabbit,” Suiden said, his eyes still closed. “Javes knows your style.” One eye cracked open. “Though I would’ve thought that his sartorial boldness would appeal to you.”