Kheda turned his attention to the sweeper. ‘You wanted to ask me something?’
‘I hear tell there’s an ill wind blowing in the western isles.’ The old man swallowed, unwilling to tempt the future by mentioning the dragon.
Past the old man, Kheda saw Itrac appear on the steps of Kheda’s own pavilion, her garments vivid despite the shade, the pearls adorning her all the whiter for it. He saw her look in his direction, hesitant. ‘I’m seeking lore from every library I have access to and every ally who might know something of such beasts.’ Kheda stretched one hand out towards Itrac. ‘I’ll be looking to the heavens, to the earthly compass, to every divination tested by time and use to guide me to the means to turn this ill fortune aside. We will be rid of this evil, my friend.’
And it’ll all be for nothing if we can’t hold these people together. They thought you might be dead. They think that Itrac might have lost the hope of a child for the domain, and that’s assuredly an evil omen. They had better see us happy and united. It’s not just what you do that builds loyalty, it’s what you ‘re seen to do. Daish Reik taught you that.
Kheda strode purposefully back down the path towards Itrac, hands outstretched. She saw him and hurried to meet him. He took her hands and drew her to him, folding her in a close embrace. Somewhere distant, unseen, a cheer was raised. Other voices took it up, swelling the sound to a defiant roar. Stamping feet and the drumming of spars and ropes on deck planking ran beneath it. The swordsmen and archers of the heavy triremes raised their weapons, scabbarded swords clashing together, daggers making drums of wood and leather quivers to add a hard edge to the rousing sound. Itrac slid her arms around his chest, pulling Kheda to her. She kissed him hard, her mouth opening beneath his, moulding her body to him. Her breath trembled on Kheda’s cheek and he felt a disquieting shiver of lust beneath his cold calculation.
This is lust, not love. It’s the thought of Risala that warms me with real passion. Have you seen that, my wife? Which was it that you felt for Saril, if truth were told? Are your kisses as calculated as mine?
As Itrac refused to release him, the ovation from the closest boats took on a distinctly ribald note. Kheda used laughter as an excuse to break away. After a moment’s uncertainty, Itrac joined in. They moved apart, still hand-fasted. The applause was finally subsiding into individual shouts that Kheda was quite glad he couldn’t make out.
‘We have work to do, my lady.’ He bowed to Itrac.
‘We do, my lord.’ Her smile was wide with new confidence, her eyes bright. ‘Till this evening.’
He watched for a moment as she walked briskly back towards the heart of the residence. Servants and slaves returned to their tasks again amid a buzz of conversation. The figures aboard the ships in the anchorage set about their chores with renewed energy. One piper sent a swirl of melody up to challenge the raucous wheeling gulls, then a second joined in with a swooping counterpoint. Soon a murmur of disjointed song rumbled along beneath the jaunty flutes. The old sweeper chuckled, brushed some nonexistent debris from Kheda’s path and bowed low as the warlord passed.
Let’s hope that little display keeps curious eyes away from those things you must never be seen doing, lest the shock and horror of discovery rip this domain apart.
Kheda walked rapidly across the island to the clean-swept expanse in front of the observatory. Risala was waiting in the hall at the bottom of the stairs.
‘That was a convincing show of joint resolve.’ She sounded amused.
You don’t sound jealous. Are you? You’ve kept your distance these past days, or was that because we couldn’t escape Dev? What does it mean if you’re not jealous of any woman who thinks she has a claim on me any more? Well, there’s nothing I can do about it for the present, so I don’t think I want to know either way. But you’re wearing that string of shark’s teeth around your sleeve. Isn’t that token of something?
‘We need to find some reason for Itrac’s seclusion that nails the lie about her losing a baby,’ Kheda said without preamble. ‘And where has Dev got to, curse him!’ He led the way into the westernmost of the semicircular halls at the base of the observatory. ‘Are we alone? Are you certain?’
‘There’s no one here but me,’ Risala assured him. ‘I
checked.’
‘We need mirrors.’ Kheda looked around the room with its filigree-fronted bookcases and shelves full of candles, pendants, metal tablets and dried herbs, the paraphernalia for every manner of divination. ‘Dev must work the magic to speak to that woman again. We have to find out everything she knows about dragons as soon as possible.’
Risala unhooked a highly polished circle of steel from the wall, its rim chased with bronze sailfish. Where are we doing this?’
‘Up aloft.’ Dev appeared in the doorway carrying a laden tray and scowling blackly. ‘And with that door locked behind us. We definitely don’t want anyone walking in on us here.’ He dumped the brass tray on a polished berale-wood table and spooned poached sard-berries into a bowl of steamed golden sailer grain. ‘Do you have an excuse for shutting everyone out that won’t raise more questions than it answers?’ Kheda’s stomach rumbled as hunger surprised him. ‘We’ll say I was reading mirror omens.’ He scooped up rustlenuts crushed with oil and herbs with some bread. ‘You said you needed a mirror. Choose one,’ he ordered indistinctly through a mouthful of sweet green arith.
Wordlessly, Risala set the mirror she was holding on the table and went to fetch a second, this one square and framed with a lattice of tiny lustre tiles in red and gold.
Dev shovelled berries and sailer grain into his mouth, purple juice staining his lips. ‘Does it matter which one I use?’
‘Yes,’ Kheda retorted, tearing another round of bread apart. ‘Risala, are you hungry?’ He gestured towards the food.
‘I ate earlier.’ She laid a third mirror carefully on the table, an oval of brightly polished copper whose reverse bore a silver mirror bird spreading the shimmering fan of its tail.
‘Is any one more valuable than the others?’ Dev set down his empty bowl and grinned. ‘Any of them a gift from someone you particularly dislike?’
‘Just choose one,’ Kheda ordered, chewing rapidly.
Dev shrugged and picked up the mirror bordered by lustre tiles. ‘This is as good as any.’
Hardly an omen, but that’s Ulla-domain workmanship and I can’t think of anyone I detest more than Vila Safar.
‘Upstairs then.’ Kheda nodded in the direction of the stairs and picked up the other two mirrors. ‘I only need one,’ said Dev, irritated.
‘I’ll be telling everyone I was looking for mirror omens.’ Kheda picked a weighty key from a brass bowl on a shelf. ‘I’m not going to risk making our plight even a little worse by lying about that.’
‘Suit yourself,’ said Dev with faint derision. ‘Risala, make yourself useful and find me a candle.’
‘You’re his slave, Dev, I’m not yours.’ All the same, she found a taper in a metal box beside an oil lamp and held it up for the wizard’s approval.
‘That’ll do.’ Dev nodded.
Kheda paused to lock the outer door as Risala followed the mage up to the observation platform. He climbed slowly up the stairs. The sunlight was fierce after the coolness within the building.
Is that why you ‘re sweating? Or is it your guilt at suborning magic yet again? And this time you’re doing it in the very heart of this domain that’s already suffered so much sorcery.
From the vantage point, Kheda glanced around the skein of islands to see purposeful activity in all directions, residence workers and mariners alike oblivious to their warlord’s duplicity. ‘Let’s get this done. Do you have everything you need?’
‘Some shade wouldn’t go amiss,’ Dev said sourly. He dropped gracelessly to sit cross-legged in the middle of the roof, holding the mirror in one hand and the taper in the other. The virgin wick flared with scarlet sorcerous flame.