“No! Not even for a lord.”
“Pretty choosy, you are. Especially for someone who was hiding as a boy. You ever-”
Kharl moved slightly closer as Enelya opened the door.
“Oh …” The involuntary exclamation from Jeka tore at Kharl. “Never …”
“He likes you,” said Enelya.
“Leave me’lone.”
“All right.” Another silence followed. “He’s good to people. You don’t bed him, fine. Leastwise be nice to him. Don’t spoil it for the rest of us.” Enelya slipped out of the front chamber, closing the door softly.
Kharl flattened himself against the wall, remaining silent while the serving girl passed him. Then he eased forward. Was Jeka humming? Singing?
He stopped. She was sobbing.
He swallowed, then turned and made his way back to his own chamber. Not until he was certain that he was alone did he release the sight shield. He stood at the window, looking down at the side garden. Jeka … sobbing?
He stood at the window for a long time.
At around the second glass of the afternoon, he finally went downstairs to the library.
For all his worry about Jeka, he still had to consider what he might do when Brysta erupted into fighting. The clouds had lifted more, and hazysunlight bathed Brysta. Still, it would not be that long before the summer-end rains arrived.
He settled behind the desk and took out a markstick. He couldn’t think of what to write. Or what he could do. Killing Egen made the most sense, and if there had been an Egen in Austra …
Kharl laughed, ironically. Ilteron had been much like Egen, except he’d been Ghrant’s older brother, and Kharl had killed him with magery. But that had been in a battle. No, Kharl had killed when necessary, but was it something that he should do as an envoy?
Being an envoy made matters harder, not easier. As just a mage and cooper, and not an envoy, for what Egen had done to Kharl and those he loved, Kharl could have killed the captain without a qualm. But … would that be the best thing to do? For that matter, where was Egen? Kharl didn’t dare try to travel south again. He frowned. Egen might well be at Werwal’s trial the next day. Kharl could get a sense then. If Egen was not, he might be able to ask the others where the captain was. That would be far quicker than searching blindly.
He nodded, then began to sketch out a rough map of Brysta, using an older map in one of the histories as a rough guide, but updating it from what he knew. He needed to know how long it might take to get from the two barracks to the Quadrancy Keep-or to the harbor piers and other places.
Before Kharl knew it, Khelaya was standing in the doorway.
“Supper is served, Lord Kharl … the others …″
″Oh … I’m sorry.″ Kharl rose quickly and hurried to the dining chamber.
His place at the end of the table was empty, of course. The others stood behind their chairs, Erdyl was to his right, and Demyst to his left. Jeka stood to the left of the undercaptain. She still wore the weaver’s blue, but it became her, especially in the soft lamplight of the evening.
″Please …″ Kharl gestured for them to sit. “I was working on some maps.”
“You missed the midday meal, too,” Erdyl said.
Kharl hadn’t even thought about eating then. That might have been why his stomach decided to growl. After he seated himself, he filled his beaker with lager and handed the pitcher to Demyst, knowing that Erdyl would have wine, as the secretary always did.
Khelaya set three platters in the middle of the table, the main dish, something like flankaar, closest to Kharl. He served himself and handed the platter to Erdyl.
“Ah … ser,” Erdyl began.
“Yes?”
“Just a while ago, there were two warships standing off the breakwater.”
“Sarronnese, I’d wager,” Kharl said, taking a helping of some cooked and wilted greenery he did not recognize. “Did you find out?”
“Cevor said they looked Sarronnese. Oh, and the Gallosian envoy has decided to go hunting somewhere north of Sagana.”
“Not much to hunt there,” observed Jeka.
“He’s not really hunting,” Kharl said, “unless it’s for a place to hide from what’s coming.”
The faintest look of puzzlement crossed Jeka’s face, then vanished.
“We think that Captain Egen may decide he should be the next Lord West,” Kharl said blandly.
“Won’t stay lord long.”
“Because he’s too mean?”
“Likes to hurt people,” Jeka said. “More people find that out, fewer folks′ll support him, or fight for him.”
Kharl laughed, softly. “You’re right about that, but a lot of people could get hurt before people find out. Lord West-the present one-isn′t too kind, either.” He took a sip of the lager. It tasted flat, but that wasn’t the lager, he suspected.
They ate in silence for a time. Kharl studied Jeka, trying not to be too obvious. One thing was clear. She watched the others, and copied their manners and how they used cutlery and how they drank. Finally, as he finished the last of the mutton flankaar, Kharl turned to her.
“Is your room all right?”
“It’s fine.”
Fundal appeared in the archway. “Undercaptain … I hate to intrude, but …”
“Sestalt is here?”
“Yes, ser.”
Demyst looked to Kharl. “If you would excuse me, ser?”
“Go ahead.”
Erdyl glanced at Kharl. “Ser?”
Kharl nodded.
After the two men had left, Jeka looked at Kharl. “You managed that nice.”
“I didn’t manage it. Undercaptain Demyst is trying to hire more guards. He told me that they would be coming this afternoon or evening.”
“Don’t want your assistant around me, either.”
Kharl wanted to sigh. Instead, he laughed. “You’re right. He said you were pretty. You are. But it bothered me.”
“Never said that to me before.”
“I shouldn’t now,” he said. “You told me nothing had changed.”
“Hasn’t. Woulda been nice to hear, though.”
Kharl thought he understood. “I’m sorry. I didn′t understand. I’ve thought about … everything.”
“Friends … right now.” Jeka looked directly at Kharl. “Please?”
“For now,” Kharl agreed. Not that he had any choice, he realized.
To the side, there was a cough. Demyst stood in the doorway. “Ser … I thought you should meet Sestalt.”
Kharl didn’t know whether to be relieved or displeased as he rose from the table. But then, that seemed to be the way everything was headed.
LXXVI
On fourday, Kharl dressed to appear in the Hall of Justice. He wasn’t sure what else he could do. He hadn’t slept that well, with dreams about Hamorian warships bombarding Brysta from the harbor while he staggered through the streets looking for a black staff. He’d awakened from that dream with a start, gotten up, and walked around his chamber before climbing back into his bed. The second nightmare had been worse-Egen had burst into the residence with a squad of his patrollers, looking for Jeka. Kharl had not returned from his presentation to Lord West in time, and found everyone slaughtered. Jeka had been used-horribly.
He lay awake in the warm night for a good glass after that, and slept only fitfully, especially after a steady rain began to patter on the roof of the residence.
As he finished dressing, except for his jacket, he considered the day ahead. The rain continued, steady, but not quite a downpour. Should he still go to the Hall of Justice? He shrugged. What else could he do? Demyst was better at finding guards than Kharl would ever be. Besides, Egen might well be at the Hall for Werwal’s trial, and, if he was, that would mean a few days-one day at least, he corrected himself-before any attacks began. Since Werwal’s case was second on the docket before Reynol, Kharl had time to eat breakfast before heading to the Hall of Justice-if he hurried.