She raised an eyebrow. “How much of your time will that buy me?”
De Bornais’ eyes narrowed.
The closest thing to privacy the tavern offered was the tavern-keeper’s bedroom, a miserable space crammed behind a door in the back barely big enough for a straw mattress and a chest of drawers. Raesinia had slipped him an eagle to let them use it, and de Bornais’ two porters stood an uneasy watch outside, opposite Faro, Ben, and Sarton.
“All right,” de Bornais said. “This had better be good.”
“We saw Danton’s speech outside,” Raesinia said. “My friends and I were very impressed.”
“Of course you were. He’s a damned genius.”
“I was curious about the. . terms of his employment.”
De Bornais smiled nastily. “Oh, I see where this is going. You’re not the first to come sniffing around, you know.”
Raesinia did her best to give a carefree shrug. “It’s only natural. When a man has a talent like that, it seems to me he could charge whatever he liked.”
“Maybe. But you talked to him, didn’t you? Danton’s. . special. A bit touched.” De Bornais put on an unconvincingly sad expression. “I take care of him, you see? He’s practically a brother to me. I knew his mam, and when she was dying, she asked me, ‘Jack, please take care of our Danton, because you know he can’t do anything for himself.’ I make sure he’s okay, and he helps out however he can.”
“Yes, I saw how well you take care of him,” Raesinia deadpanned.
De Bornais had the decency to blush, rubbing his knuckles. “I don’t like having to do that. But like I said, he’s a bit touched. It’s the only way to get him to understand sometimes. He doesn’t blame me.”
“You don’t pay him?”
“He wouldn’t know what to do with it.” De Bornais patted the pocket where he’d tucked her coin, and gave a nasty smile. “So it’s no good, you offering him money. He’s got everything he needs, and he does whatever I tell him.”
“If that’s the case,” she said, “perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement.”
“Don’t be stupid,” de Bornais said. “You were there today, weren’t you? Then you saw the kind of money I’m making.”
“But not for long, I’ll bet,” Raesinia said. “You must move around a lot.”
“Of course.” He gave a sickly grin. “Have to spread the good news.”
And stay out of the way of angry customers, Raesinia thought.
“What if you were to let us. . hire Danton, and we guaranteed your income? Think of it as a vacation.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think you appreciate the kind of money we’re dealing with here-”
He stopped as she undid the first two buttons on her overshirt and reached down past her collar. In an inner pocket, held tight against her side, there was a sheaf of documents, and after a moment’s thought she selected one of these and withdrew it. It was a folded sheet of thick, expensive paper, startlingly white in the gloom, and she snapped it open in front of de Bornais.
“Can you read, Baron?” By his eyes, she saw that he could. “Good. This is a draft on the Second Pennysworth Bank for ten thousand eagles, payable to the bearer with my signature. Do you think that would be sufficient?”
“I. .” He looked from the bill to her face and back.
“Is the choice of institution not to your liking?” Raesinia patted her pocket. “I have others.”
“No.” De Bornais’ voice was a croak. “No. That will be. . fine.”
–
De Bornais emerged from the back room, all smiles, waving the anxious porters away. Raesinia followed, catching Ben’s eye, and nodded. They followed de Bornais to Danton’s table, where the big man was at work on a third mug of beer.
“Hello, Jack!” Danton said, suds frosting his wild beard. “You want a drink?”
“Er, no, thanks. Not right now.” De Bornais looked nervous. “Listen, Danton. You like stories, right?”
“I like stories!”
“This young lady”-he gestured at Raesinia-“has some stories she wants you to tell. Do you think you could help her out?”
Danton nodded vigorously, then hesitated. “What about you, Jack? Don’t you need my help?”
“It’s all right. I’ve got to go on a. . trip. Just for a while. But she’s going to take care of you in the meantime, and you do whatever you can to help her, you understand?”
“All right.” Danton took another pull from his beer, apparently unconcerned.
Raesinia stepped forward and extended her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Danton. I’m Raesinia.”
Danton stared at her hand for a moment, as though unsure what to do with it. Then his face split in a huge grin. “Just like the princess!”
“Right,” she said, as they shook hands. “Just like her.”
“So you bought him?” Cora said.
“I didn’t buy him.” Raesinia had been fighting a queasy feeling all afternoon that this was exactly what she had done, like some Murnskai lord trading field workers for coach horses. She had her justifications all ready. “He needs someone to care for him. We’re just taking over that task for a while so he can work for us. After everything’s finished, we can send him wherever he wants.”
“I see,” said Cora. “So you rented him.”
Raesinia nodded sheepishly. “If you like.”
“For ten thousand eagles.” The teenager’s eyes glowed, as they always did when she was talking about money.
“We can afford it,” Raesinia said defensively.
“It’s not a matter of being able to afford it,” Cora said. “I’m just wondering what it is this man brings to the cause that’s worth the price of a decent-sized town house.”
“You didn’t hear him.”
They looked down at the object of their conversation, who looked back at them with guileless blue eyes. Raesinia had spent the afternoon in slow, careful conversation with him before bringing him to meet the others in the back room of the Blue Mask. Danton himself had proven to be amiable, willing, and uninterested in anything but the prospect of beer and food. Currently he was working his way through a pint of the Blue Mask’s best with the same enjoyment he’d shown drinking the slop from the nameless Newtown bar. Around him were gathered all the members of the little conspiracy: Raesinia, Cora, Faro, Ben, Sarton, and Maurisk.
“Well?” Cora said. “Let’s hear him, then.”
“Yes,” Maurisk said, briefly pausing in his pacing beside the window. “Let’s.” His sharp tone made it clear what he thought of this entire enterprise.
“We may need some time to get ready,” Ben said. “He’ll need some coaching, obviously. And-”
“No,” Raesinia interrupted. “He won’t. Danton?”
“Hmm?” He looked up from his beer and smiled. “Yes, Princess?”
Faro raised an eyebrow. “Princess?”
“Because of the name,” Raesinia said, trying to sound amused. “Danton, do you remember the story I told you this afternoon?”
“I do. I like stories.”
Maurisk snorted and stalked back to the window.
Raesinia ignored him. “Do you think you could tell that one to everyone right now?”
“Of course!”
He set his glass carefully on the floor and got out of his chair. Standing, he made for a somewhat intimidating figure, almost as big as Ben, with wild, unkempt hair and ragged clothes Raesinia hadn’t had time to replace. His face went slack, eyes slightly unfocused, and Raesinia held her breath.
Then he began:
Where are you, thief? Step into the light, sir
Like an honest highwayman, show yourself
And I’ll spit into your skull, match my sword
Against your scythe, and show you the power
Of a man wronged, and sworn to black revenge. .
It was Illian’s Act Two speech from The Wreck, the darling of every would-be actor and dramatist, a tirade against Death that built to a roaring, frenzied crescendo. Raesinia had heard it before, probably a hundred times, often from men reputed to be among the finest actors of the age. But it seemed to her that no command performance at the palace had ever matched this one. She could feel Illian’s rage, the crawling frustration of revenge denied, marooned on a deserted island while the murderer of his true love sailed away to a hero’s reward. Danton himself seemed to vanish, subsumed by this creature of anger and hatred, a wild tiger thrashing helplessly against the bars of its cage until it was bloody with the effort.