‘I was in a fine mood but you’ve ruined it now,’ said Ravel. He glanced away, angrily toying with one of his rings.
‘Shall I go then, my lord?’
‘No,’ Ravel growled. ‘You will sit there and let me admire you, and remind me why I thought I had to have you. Tonight is a special night. I’m supposed to be celebrating. You’re supposed to be part of that celebration, Simah. There is an opera being performed right now in the castle for my men and servants. I could be there enjoying it, but I chose to be here with you instead.’
Simah blanched. ‘I’m sorry, my lord.’
‘You should think before you speak of things you know nothing about,’ said Ravel. ‘Politics is not for the weak-minded, and especially not for girls like you. Liiria is in chaos, Simah. It is by my good grace alone that Jazana Carr’s hordes do not come here and capture you. Ah, but you don’t know that, do you? You believe the nonsense fools like your father spout, that I am ambitious and cruel and not to be believed. Great Fate, you don’t even know why I’m celebrating tonight, do you?’
He could see her struggle to answer. Behind her pretty blue eyes her mind worked feverishly.
‘I didn’t expect you to understand,’ said Ravel. He reached for an olive, chewed the meat from it and spat the pit into his palm. ‘Because this is the size of your brain.’ He rolled the pit between his chubby fingers, smiling at the girl, then flicked it away. ‘Tomorrow I depart for Norvor. I’m going to speak with Jazana Carr.’ He paused. ‘You do know who she is, don’t you?’
‘The Diamond Queen,’ said Simah.
‘That’s right. The only woman in the world with enough gall to think she’s my equal. She has her eyes on Liiria, you see. Her forces have been massing near the border.’
‘I know this,’ said Simah. ‘My lord thinks I’m ignorant, but I am not.’
‘Hmm, that’s still in question. What you don’t know is that I sent an envoy to Jazana Carr, asking to speak with her. And she accepted. Now, let’s try out your sharp mind, Simah. What do you think that means?’
‘What?’
‘What do you think it means that she accepted my offer to talk?’
Simah thought for a moment, determined not to look stupid. But she did not know the answer, and had to admit it. She squared her shoulders and said, ‘I cannot say.’
‘That’s why the Fate made you a dancer,’ said Ravel with a grin. ‘But you’re not stupid, Simah. I can see that. I can teach you these things, so listen closely. Jazana Carr is weak. She would not have accepted my offer to talk so readily if she were not.’
Simah frowned at the deduction. ‘My lord, I have heard otherwise.’
‘Speak freely.’
‘My lord thinks the Diamond Queen is weak, but my family lives close to the Novo Valley. She is rich, my lord, richer than you even.’
‘Preposterous,’ spat Ravel. ‘I too have heard this rumour and it irks me. There is no one richer than me, girl, and no woman especially.’ He grunted in disgust. ‘Is that why you spread this lie? Because Jazana Carr is a woman like yourself? It must be nice for you to imagine such things, but I assure you it’s a fantasy. There is no one more wealthy than I. Not even King Akeela had such a fortune.’
His sureness deflated Simah. Her gaze dropped to her lap. As if she had suddenly realised how naked she was, she arranged her meagre garments to hide herself. The act of modesty stoked Ravel’s hunger.
‘Perhaps I should take you on the road with me,’ he purred. ‘Your company would be most welcome in my carriage.’
Simah stiffened. There was no way to decline his offer, so she simply nodded. ‘If that is what my lord wishes.’
‘I will consider it,’ said Ravel. ‘If you please me tonight.’ He clapped his hands loudly. Across the room a door opened and a servant hurried in. The baron told the servant, ‘Fetch the musicians.’
The fellow bowed and backed out of the room, and soon the men with the instruments returned. Without a word they sat themselves down on their pillows, not looking at Ravel, not waiting for him to say anything. They simply began to play. A soft, curvaceous tune came out of their instruments, filling the fabulous room. Ravel finished the sausage he was eating, wiped his greasy lips on his sleeve, then held out his hand toward Simah.
‘Come.’
In all her young life, it was not how Simah expected to lose her maidenhood.
The next morning, Ravel set out for the tedious ride to Hanging Man.
He was refreshed from his night of lovemaking with Simah, a girl he had not expected to be such a tiger. He had forgone the opera for her, and he was glad for that now because they had made their own music together, moaning strains of lust. He had lapped wine off her smooth belly, and summoned his manhood again and again until at last his fat body could take no more. Exhausted, he had rolled over into his pillows and slept, and by the time he awoke Simah was gone, taken to be with the rest of his women.
Baron Ravel had not brought Simah with him as threatened. Instead he rode alone in his opulent carriage, and was glad for the solitude. With the shades rolled up he could see his entourage of soldiers snaking out ahead of him, leading the way toward Norvor and his meeting with Jazana Carr. The sun was unseasonably strong and the fat baron revelled in its touch, letting it warm his face. A decanter of wine sloshed on the bench next to him, held in place along with a collection of crystal goblets by the craftsmanship of a master woodworker. Ravel’s seat was also custom fitted, a huge cushion of red velvet bolstered to endure his enormous weight. With all its adornments and its heavy occupant it took a team of four horses to pull the great carriage, a smartly dressed driver helming the team. The driver’s name was Merwyn and he had been with Ravel for years. Sadly, the same could not be said of most of the other men, who were all mercenaries, lured into Ravel’s army by his great wealth. The ranks of his private militia had swelled considerably in the past year, costing him a fortune, but Ravel knew it would be worth the expense. Eventually, all of Liiria would be his. He was going to Norvor now to assure that bright future.
She is weak, Ravel thought to himself, remembering what he had told Simah the night before. Bern and his other men had warned him against approaching Jazana Carr, but he was certain of the move. There was simply no way the Diamond Queen could best him. She had blustered by mustering forces at Hanging Man, but she was a woman and that meant she didn’t have a military mind. Worse, she had moved far too quickly to make the bluff believable. Her grip over Norvor was only a few months old.
Not just weak, Ravel realised. Stupid, too.
For a moment he was disappointed. Oddly, he had expected more from Jazana Carr. He reached for the decanter, chose one of the identical goblets, and poured himself a portion of the thick wine. He drank to his easy victory.
Moments later, Bern fell back from his lead position and waited for Ravel’s carriage to catch up. When it did, the big colonel rode alongside. He looked uneasy, the way he always did when broaching the subject of Norvor. Unlike most of his men, Bern wore nothing to remind him of his days as a Royal Charger. Instead he wore the common garb of a mercenary, without a crest of any kind. His cape was dusty from the road and his leather gauntlets were cracked from overuse. Dark sweat ran down his grooved face. The sun had turned his neck and balding head crimson. Baron Ravel plucked a handkerchief of yellow silk from his vest and held it out the open window.
‘Here, wipe your face.’
Bern took the cloth, vigorously wiped the perspiration from his brow as he rode, then offered it back to his lord, who winced in disgust.
‘Thank you, no.’
Colonel Bern shrugged and tucked the cloth into his shirt. ‘Warm,’ he commented. Always a man of few words, he let his dour expression speak for him.