‘You wanted to see her, T'Varr. Well, here she is. And now she's to be hanged.’ Chrias spoke shortly, sharply, before Tsen could say a word. The kwen's jaw was clenched tight, drawing the muscles in his neck taut and making them stand out from his skin. Tsen raised an eyebrow. Inside he tutted to himself. Our kwen barely on his own leash? My, my, what did you do, slave? I think I like you more and more. He nodded to himself at his own wisdom and then grinned at his own folly.
‘A visiting monarch from another realm?’ Tsen cocked his head. ‘And you wish to hang her?’ Careful now, tongue, before the nasty little thoughts make you lash him. Our dear kwen surely sees himself as the next sea lord, and he has the favour of the lady of Xican behind him. What do you have? Not so much. So careful, tongue. Careful.
‘A slave who killed a Taiytakei. There are no exceptions.’
‘Not for slaves, that is true.’ Tsen nodded as if that was the end of the matter. Then he cocked his head again. ‘Is she a slave?’
‘Of course she is. .’
Ah, the quiet satisfaction of a trap seen a moment too late. Tsen smiled. Beamed. He made a show of getting up and inspecting the woman's arms. They had a strength to them, certainly more than any bed-slave would have, however exquisite. ‘I wasn't sure.’ He kept on smiling, right in Chrias's face. ‘She might have been a guest under our lord's hospitality, in which case her fate would belong to him and not to any of us here at all. But since she is a slave. .’ he looked up and held Chrias's eye ‘. . an unbranded slave, that is, then she is nothing. A thing. Property. Not a person at all.’ He let out a heavy sigh and nodded as if finding himself with yet another terrible burden to add to the many he already carried. Not that that was far from the truth. ‘Very well. She is an unbranded slave and so she is a thing and not a person and thus is the responsibility of a t'varr and not a kwen. You have your point, Chrias. She's mine and I will have the pain of dealing with her.’ He let the woman's arms go, watching her from the corner of one eye and Chrias from the corner of the other. And now, tongue, say something nice. Something flattering. Send our lord's kwen away with at least some little bone to play with, eh? ‘Well I thank you, Chrias, for the never-ending petty troubles you send my way. Still, I dare say you have enough on your own plate just now, what with all those sail-slaves and sword-slaves and soldiers of our lord's guard who all failed so fatally in their duty to keep Zifan'Shu separated from dangerous sharp objects?’ His glance flicked to the two black-cloaks. Oh well done, tongue. Well done. In his head he gave himself a sarcastic round of applause. He might as well have come out and called Chrias an incompetent horse's arse. Ah well, at least we're keeping alive the cliche that a kwen and a t'varr can never really stand each other. Much more important than trying not to humiliate a man who doubtless already wants us to go and die somewhere quiet in a ditch. Good good, tongue. Nice work. Now shut up. He feigned another heavy sigh. ‘Leave her to me then, Chrias. I will arrange a fate that will be deeply unpleasant. Hanging is far too good for her.’ And now let's see if he has these two soldiers run me through. It would be a kwen-ish sort of thing to do. Gets it all over with and out in the open, after all.
LaLa was here, a part of the air around them. Did Chrias know that? Would it make a difference? He didn't know. Didn't know whether LaLa could be quick enough either. He turned away, waiting for Chrias to either leave him or kill him. Quai'Shu was useless now. Tsen had seen that and so had Chrias. Zifan'Shu was dead. There was, as LaLa had suggested, no clear successor, in which case the first to grab the spoils often won, but which spoils, that was the thing. Chrias would take Xican. There'd be no stopping him and Tsen had no intention of trying. And then we'll see whether these dragons are worth everything Quai'Shu promised, and if they're not then we raise our hands, drop out of the game and start making wagers on who's left standing at the end. Eh? He felt relieved beyond words that he'd sent Kalaiya ahead to the eyrie before he'd left. She'd be where Chrias couldn't get to her, but he felt like such a fool too, because he'd only sent her ahead of him out of a selfish desire to have her with him again as soon as he could. For her own safety? Hadn't even crossed his mind until he'd reached Khalishtor.
The kwen was still standing there. Baros Tsen waved him away until he wasn't and it was just him and the woman and the eyes of his hidden guardian. He felt absurdly excited. Because Chrias and I just declared war? I suppose the chance of being murdered is something that some might find exciting. Hadn't ever thought I'd be one of them, though. He gave a little nod to the slave woman. ‘I am Baros Tsen. Hands of the Sea Lord of Xican,’ he said.
The woman looked him over and clearly found him wanting, as most women instinctively did. ‘I am Zafir, dragon-queen of the Silver City and speaker of the nine realms.’
Tsen put on his best affable smile and spoke as politely as he could. ‘You were all those things but now you are a slave.’ He tried to look sorry for her but it probably wasn't working. ‘My slave. Chrias Kwen wants to hang you. Should I let him? I understand you were intent on burning all my ships with your monsters when you were taken.’
‘I was.’ She smiled back at him, the smile of a snake. ‘Give me back my monsters and I still will.’ She had a pretty face, Tsen thought. Very, very pretty. The rest of her was a bit of this and that. Good muscles, athletic, well shaped. Her skin let her down, though. It wasn't as smooth as it could be, rough and blemished in places and, of course, ghostly pale. Maybe an enchanter could do something about that. She could do some with fattening-up too, but the proportions were good and her face was striking and her eyes were lively and bright. Not bad. Nothing special, though.
He shook his head. ‘Ach, I could probably get a half-decent price for you, but you're not really a head-turner.’
She spluttered and inside his head Tsen patted himself on the shoulder. Weakness found.
‘Chrias says you've driven our sea lord insane.’
‘I would have killed him if I'd got to him. Your old one stared into the eyes of a dragon and his mind broke. It broke one of my slaves as well. A quiet little girl, timid and frail, and a great lord who thinks himself a master of worlds.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Gone.’
‘Slaves like you do not have slaves of their own,’ he told her. She shrugged.
‘You may say that is so, but they know.’
Tsen took a deep breath. Yes, well you started well, T'Varr. ‘I begin to see why you and my dear friend the kwen fail so marvellously to get along. You killed our sea lord's son. Do you not see how that poses something of a problem?’ And now shall I take a wager on who will win if we keep on with our sparring?
The dragon slave — he was already starting to think of her as that — licked her lips. ‘Does it not trouble you that I might kill you too?’
Tsen laughed and shook his head. ‘No. No, it does not.’
She held up her bandaged hand, flicked her hair and looked him in the eye, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. ‘I almost a brought a shard of glass with me. I had one to hand. If I had brought it, I might have used it.’
‘To what end?’ Tsen looked her over one more time. ‘Whatever you were before, you are a slave now, mine for my sins and probably lengthy regret. I will parade you about, share you with my friends, speak with you about the realms from which you come and finally tire of you. Amuse me and your life will be a pleasant one. Disappoint me or step out of line and, well, you've seen Chrias Kwen. I'll just give you away to whoever wants you. That's all. You may go now.’