Cethe (44 page)

their lands Sovereign. No man may bring arms into Arranz land without due permission of the Duke nor may future governors

gainsay what orders the duke may make upon it; likewise does the House of Arranz swear eternal fealty to the House of Lothlain

and forswear raising arms against the rightful kings of Tanyrin.

By my seal do I set this Covenant for eternity, Aramis Lothlain (signature appended)

from:
The First Covenant of Aramis Lothlain I
,

9 Lothkel
,

Year of Loth’s Dominion 1317

The unmarked coach rattled along Lothmont’s cobbled streets. It passed the fine, lakeside mansions, their windows alight

behind stone wal s and high hedges. Now and then, when the street curved south and ran alongside Lake Wyr, the occupants of the

coach were treated to a view of moon-silvered water and Castle Lothlain in the distance, twinkling like a fal en star.

“Jeremy and Auron should be here tomorrow,” said Severyn. “Forry wil be in Shia by now and Erich shortly thereafter. Soon,

my friend, soon we wil make our move.”

Michael, tapping his invitation idly against his chin, nodded.

They had driven straight down from Tantagrel together, the carriage piled high with Severyn’s luggage. They had stopped

briefly at Michael’s hotel to leave his baggage off, but Severyn planned to spend the next week at the palace to keep Arami under

his watchful eye.

At the Thaelrick gate, they ran into a back-up of carriages. Hunters directed traffic onto the bridge and from there, onto the

Royal Bridge. The latter was lined with torches and more coaches. Every highblood in Lothmont and beyond would be here tonight.

For the nobility of Tanyrin, the Greening Bal was the official mark of spring. Only in the northern highlands could one see

snow anymore. Tradition decreed the bal be held at the palace, the spectacular finale to a week-long celebration of extravagant

parties and fetes.

The last few months jockeying between Tantagrel and Lothmont had not been as unpleasant as Michael had anticipated.

Severyn’s plan seemed to be working. At first stand-offish, people had warmed to him more quickly than he’d expected, especial y in

Tantagrel where the populace adored their prince. Now Michael routinely received invitations independent of Severyn’s and had

even begun to think of bringing Chris and Annie to town.

“Your invitations, my lords?” a Hunter cal ed, rapping on the door, then pul ing it open. Severyn, annoyed, leaned into the light

fal ing in from outside. The soldier, recognizing him, bowed at once and jumped down. The door slammed. After a moment, they felt

the coach turn. They were being sent to the front of the line.

“Ah, the privileges of rank.”

“If I were a better man, I’d refuse it,” agreed Severyn. “But not tonight. I want to get this damned thing over with. I’l probably

have to open the bal for Arami. Lord knows if he’l even make it down for the receiving line.”

Through the covered bridge they rode and out onto the long, open span to join the line of carriages moving slowly to the

island.

“I wonder if Locke is in town for this,” Michael said.

“Why not? It’s his money Arami is spending.” Severyn seemed determined to be disgusted with his brother. “The fool.”

“Locke’s the fool,” Michael replied mildly. “I’l wager a considerable percentage of the money goes to Arami’s pelthe habit.”

Severyn’s expression grew sour. “No doubt,” he grumped. “What I wouldn’t give to find out who’s getting him that poison! Try

as I might, however, that bit of intel igence continues to elude me. I’ve got my spies everywhere around him with orders to report to

me any such information, yet he continues to lay his hands on the stuff and my men are clueless.”

“Have you asked him outright?”

“Of course. He sneers at me and tel s me it’s none of my damned business.”

The carriage stopped. Severyn cursed and leaned out the window, looking ahead. “What the devil is the matter now?”

“Is Miss Stefanie real y coming tonight?”

Severyn col apsed back onto his seat. “She’l be attending the dinner, but not the main festivities. Her aunt decided the

sacrifice would satisfy the terms of her mourning. We go in together.”

“What a burden,” mocked Michael, who had, by now, seen the Incomparable for himself. “How wil you endure?”

The prince snorted and made some clever rejoinder, but Michael was only half-listening. Speaking of Stefanie Eldering made

him think of Stefn, something he did much too often lately. The snows of Shia had surely melted enough for travel. More and more,

he considered a trip north. The others were bringing in the first of their troops, including his grandfather and the Arranz contingent.

Each time he brought up the idea, however, Severyn found some reason to delay him.

Crossing the Royal Bridge to the island took nearly an hour. Once on land, their carriage wound slowly through the grounds

and up to the palace’s columned front entrance. Inside, the Grand Foyer was ablaze with light. Polished wood, marble, and gold leaf

made an elegant frame for the crowd gathered there, themselves radiant in their fine clothing and jewels. Even the announcement of

Severyn’s name could barely be heard through the din created by dozens of conversations.

The two gentlemen were quickly spotted, however, and surrounded by acquaintances. Michael soon lost sight of his friend.

Accosted by a pair of pretty young ladies, he was eventual y swept through the foyer to the bal room. There, he saw Severyn out on

the floor, gal antly partnering a matronly countess in a country dance. Arami was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, he hadn’t

been in the receiving line, either, only the Queen. It seemed Severyn knew his brother al too wel .

Not until an hour and several dances later did Michael run into Severyn again. He was on his way to the buffet when he

caught sight of the prince coming down a staircase. Severyn spotted him and beckoned. Excusing himself to his companions,

Michael joined the prince at the foot of the stairs.

“The idiot’s passed out,” Severyn said in a low voice. He looked ready to hit something. “There’s no way he’l be able to give

his official dinner address!”

“Wil you give it, then?”

“No.” Severyn’s lean, hard jaw got harder. “I’ve had enough of this!” With a quick look around, he added, “Fol ow me.”

Upstairs, they went straight to the end of the corridor. Guards stood before a set of tal , double doors. One hurried to open

them.

Michael and Severyn stepped into Arami’s suite. It was rank with the smel of pelthe. Snifters with soot-blackened bottoms lay

everywhere. Cushions were strewn about; an easel was set up with a gaudy splash of colors on it. Lumps and smears of paint

covered the floor around it. Severyn strode through the mess and into his brother’s bedchamber.

The king, in ful , formal dress, lay face down on the floor. A snifter lay near his hand, stil holding a bit of the drug. The lamp

he’d been using had also fal en and, fortunately, gone out.

“Damn it! Where the hel is he getting this stuff?” Severyn kicked one of the snifters out of the way. Dropping to a crouch, he

turned his brother over. Arami had fal en hard. His face was covered with blood and his nose probably broken. He seemed barely to

breathe. “Can you heal him?”

“Of course.” Michael settled down beside the king, alarmed at his gory appearance. “Loth! Is he like this often?”

“More often lately, or so my spies tel me. He hates these bal s as much as I do, I think. What about his intoxication? Can you

reverse that, too?”

“I doubt it,” Michael admitted. “I can take care of his nose, though.”

Severyn nodded, satisfied. “I’l make sure you’re not interrupted.” He got up and disappeared into the next room.

Michael lay his hands on the unconscious king. He whispered the healing Words and felt his hands tingle. The k’na answered

his summons, flooding his veins with its heat and power. Pouring it into Arami, Michael heard the labored breathing ease. The king’s

ashen complexion took on a healthier hue. His swol en nose shrank to normal size. He twitched violently several times, then was

stil . Michael leaned back on his heels, slightly dizzy.

“Is that it?” Severyn hovered in the doorway behind him and was answered almost at once by a loud snore. Getting to his feet,

Michael said, “He’s al yours,” and retreated to the king’s sitting room.

There, he col apsed into a silk-upholstered chair, surprised at how tired he was. In the other room, he heard voices. Arami was

awake and not very happy. After several minutes, Severyn emerged wearing an expression of smug triumph. The door slammed

behind him.

“Let’s go back to the party,” he said to Michael. To the guards standing outside the suite, he said, “If His Majesty isn’t on his

way to the dining room in one hour, come find me.”

“He’s better, I take it.” said Michael once they were away.

“Coherent, at least. Thank you. I’m in your debt.”

“Yes, but what’s to stop him from drugging himself into a stupor again?”

Severyn reached into his pocket and briefly showed Michael several smal cut crystal perfume bottles. They were fil ed with

pelthe. Patting his pocket, Severyn said, “I think I found them al . He’l have to come out, if only to find these.”

“Wil you give them back?”

The prince’s response was a derisive snort.

Dinner was at midnight, stil a couple hours away. Severyn was convinced to join a card game in one of the parlors. Michael

declined, being shorter in the pocket than his friend, and took himself off to the terrace for a breath of fresh air.

By now, the crowd had grown, spil ing out of the bal room and public rooms, onto the terrace, even into the stil -bare gardens

beyond. Michael decided to go down by the shore where a path meandered, giving a spectacular view of Lothmont across the lake.

It was a view Stefn would appreciate.

Michael caught himself, swearing under his breath. Resolutely he thought of other things, but when he reached the path, he

found it populated by romantic couples. Abandoning that idea, he started back to the palace.

“Lord Arranz?”

Stopping at the sound of his name, Michael turned politely, and found himself facing a tal , handsome Hunter. In the dim light it

was hard to make out the details of his uniform, but then the officer turned slightly, catching the il umination of a nearby torch. A

Dragon!

“You have the advantage, sir,” replied Michael, abruptly wary. “Have we met?”

“My apologies. No, we’ve not, but I’ve heard a great deal about you. I’m Captain Adrian Remy of the Order of Dragons,

recently down from Zelenov. Does your grandfather also attend the fete, my lord? It’s not often these days we see one of your family

in Lothmont.”

“His Grace is at Blackmarsh. I’m our family’s sole representative here tonight,” Michael replied. “But rest assured, more of us

wil attend in the future. King Arami exceeds himself each year, it seems.”

“Magnificent, indeed,” replied the captain. His eyes held Michael’s, an odd light in them. “I understand you were disappointed

at your wedding. Was the lady offered of such poor quality?”

“Alas, I never even saw her.” Michael pretended regret. “An Objection was lodged. I understand it’s stal ed in the courts

somewhere.”

“I’m sure whatever concerns were expressed wil be rectified quickly. Stil , I imagine your mistress must be delighted with the

turn of events.” Remy’s smile invited Michael to share the confidences of romantic escapades. “Or do you plan to keep her on after

you’re married?”

“Oh, keep her on, absolutely,” replied Michael, thinking of Stefn. “What about yourself, Captain? Are you wed?”

“Not yet, alas. A Hunter’s life is not wel -suited for the demands of domesticity. Perhaps later.”

The bel s in the palace’s Royal Chapel pealed out over the island. It was midnight. In the distance, bel s in the city could be

heard answering as Lothmont greeted the first official day of spring.

“Who is your mistress, my lord? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard.”

Remy’s voice was light, but the question was so outre, Michael was momentarily speechless. Then he forced a smile. “As if I’d

tel you, captain, and have her stolen right out from under my nose.”

The captain laughed. “My apologies, Lord Arranz. It was bad of me, but I’m extremely curious. Is she human?”

“I believe they’re serving dinner at midnight. Won’t your companion be looking for you?”

Captain Remy’s dark eyes flashed; his smile was as quick and insincere as Michael’s. “Like you, I came with friends.”

Witch-sense narrowed Michael’s focus to the handsome, dangerous man. A strange recklessness seized him. He had a

sudden image of the proud bastard kneeling naked before him. “Ah,” he said lightly, “since we’re both free men this evening, how