"Suppose I'd better go and get cleaned up," he said. "I'm supposed to be meeting the princess in about ten minutes."
He walked out of the stable, not noticing whether Orsea followed him or not. As he crossed the yard, he realized he was still holding his foil. He stuck it point downward in a stone urn full of small pink flowers and made his way into the main hall. Ten minutes; he sent someone to find the surgeon, and sat down on a bench.
"Don't ask," he said, when the surgeon arrived.
"I wasn't going to. Was it clean?"
Valens nodded. "Hurry up," he said, "I've got a date with a girl."
"This is going to hurt a lot," the surgeon said, threading his needle. "Don't bother being brave just for my benefit."
"I won't," Valens said.
He managed not to scream, even so (the Duke is always brave, always for his own exclusive benefit). The surgeon snipped off the end of the thread with a little silver knife. "Taking them out won't be much fun either," he said. "But there shouldn't be much of a scar. Be more careful next time."
His clothes were covered in blood, of course. He dragged himself back up to the tower room, changed and slumped down again. He was late for his appointment (whatever the right word was for half an hour of diplomatically mandated flirtation) and the cut was hurting like buggery. Still, it'd be a good way to get the conversation going.
"You've hurt your mouth," she said, as soon as she saw him. It was practically an accusation.
"Yes," he replied. "My own silly fault."
"What happened?"
He shrugged. "I got careless handling the goshawk you gave me, and she swiped me."
She frowned. "You should bathe the cut in distilled wine," she said, "to stop it getting infected. I'm surprised, though. I had hoped I'd trained her better than that."
"Not her fault," Valens said. "I'm just lucky she didn't strike for the eyes."
"That would have been very bad," she said. "You should have her killed."
"Certainly not," Valens said. "She's a very fine hawk."
"Yes. Even so."
He smiled. It hurt to smile at her, not entirely because of the stitches. "Besides," he said, "that'd be a poor way to treat a wedding present."
She frowned again. She seemed to be finding him rather hard going. "The hawk isn't my wedding present to you," she said. "My official present is two divisions of light cavalry, and my personal gift will be a suit of lightweight scale armor, a riding sword and a warhorse."
"Oh," Valens said. "You've spoiled the surprise."
She looked at him as though he was talking a language she didn't know. "The gifts are specified in the marriage contract," she said. "I'm sorry, I assumed you'd have read it."
"That's right, I remember now." He could still taste blood in his mouth. It made him feel hungry. "Anyway, let's talk about something else. This is the herb garden."
"I know."
"Of course you do. That one over there's mint; that's rosemary, and oregano."
"Basil."
"Sorry, basil, you're quite right. You know your herbs, then."
She nodded. "I read a book about them. We don't use herbs much at home, they're too hard to get hold of. Most of our meat is salted to preserve it, or smoked or dried. As well as common salt, we use wild honey and saltpeter, both of which are fairly abundant in our territory."
"I see," Valens said. "Interesting," he lied. "You must find the meat here pretty bland, in that case."
"Yes," she said.
"Tell me…" He racked his brain for something to ask her about. "Tell me what sort of food you eat in your country."
She raised her thin, long eyebrows. "Well," she said, "we are, as you know, a nomadic society. Accordingly, most of our food is provided by our livestock. We eat beef and mutton, cheese and other dairy products, and game, of course."
"How about bread? Vegetables?"
"We gather a wide variety of fruit," she went on, as though he hadn't interrupted, "and wild honey, which we use for a great many things besides preserving. We get a certain amount of flour from the Mezentines in trade, but it's still very much a luxury; for one thing, it's heavy and bulky to carry in any quantity. Nuts and berries-"
"And what you mostly trade with is salt," he broke in. "That's right, isn't it?"
She paused, as though his interruption had made her lose her place. "Salt, some hides and furs," she said. "But salt mostly."
"That's…" Valens couldn't think of a suitable word, so he shook his head. "Changing the subject rather," he went on, "there's one thing I'm a bit curious about. How did you actually find out about us, in the first place, I mean? Because, to be honest, I'd never heard of your people, except as a name."
Disapproval all over her face; clearly not diplomatic. "You'd have to ask my uncles," she said. "Similarly, I'd never heard of the Vadani until I was told I was to marry you. However, I trust I have now made amends for my ignorance. I have put a considerable amount of effort into my studies."
"I can see that," Valens said. "And you've done really well."
"Thank you." She hesitated, then said: "Now there are three things I should like to ask you about, if that would be in order."
Valens shrugged. "Go ahead."
"Very well." The way she paused reminded Valens of several experienced public speakers he'd listened to over the years. "If any of these questions strike you as offensive or impertinent, please say so. First, I should like to know why, at your age and in your position, you are still unmarried. Second, given that you are the absolute ruler of this country, why are you allowing your advisers to pressure you into a marriage that clearly holds little attraction for you. Third, I would be most interested to know your reasons for going to war with the Mezentine Republic."
Valens shut his eyes for a moment. What the hell, he thought.
"Tell you what," he said. "Would you like to hear the truth?"
She looked at him.
"Fine. Look, can we sit down for a moment?"
She nodded. "The pain from your injury is fatiguing you," she said.
"Yes." He sat down on the arm of a stone bench. She settled next to him like a bird pitching on a branch.
"The goshawk didn't attack you, did it?" she said.
He laughed. "No. I made that up, sorry. No disrespect intended to your hawk."
Her mouth tightened a little; if we were already married, he thought, I don't suppose I'd be getting off so lightly. "Very well," she said. "What did happen?"
"I got carved up a little by a jealous husband."
"I see. I take it the man in question will be punished."
"Not necessary."
She scowled. "He drew the blood of his ruler," she said firmly. "There can be no clemency in such a case."
"Let's not talk about it," Valens said.
"If you wish. You were about to answer my questions."
"So I was." He looked away, took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "When I was seventeen, I saw a girl. She was a guest here. I fell in love with her, but not long afterward she married someone else. After that-I don't know, there wasn't anything conscious about it. I stopped thinking about her as soon as I heard about her marriage. My father had just died, I had a lot of other things on my mind. I suppose I was glad of an excuse not to have to concern myself with all that stuff."
"That seems plausible enough," she acknowledged. "My second question…"
"Why now, you mean? Well, various reasons, really. Mostly, to be frank, we need this alliance. We've-I'm sorry, I've got the country into a pretty awful mess, and it looks as though you're our way out. Also…" He shivered. "It's been a long time since I was a seventeen-year-old kid. Everybody grows up eventually."
She was looking at him again. "I don't think I understand what you mean," she said.