Dangerous Gifts (17 page)

“Ma’am?” she said, the word barely more than a whisper.

“Yes, Enkanet. It’s me.”

Enkanet kept soothing the child, but seemed to be shocked into immobility.

“You’d better take her,” Enthemmerlee said. “We’ll have to give her time.”

“Oh! Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

“Don’t be sorry, Enkanet,” Enthemmerlee said, with a strained smile. “We all have to get used to this, you know. Even me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Enkanet said, and walked off, the child still sobbing into her neck.

Enboryay shook his head, went up to the beast that the stone had hit, and ran his hands along its flank, making hissing noises. “Sha, sha. There, beauty. This needs poulticing.” He unhitched it from the carriage, and led it away, still muttering.

Enthemmerlee turned and strode swiftly towards the house. Thranishalak, who seemed to be some sort of head servant, struggled to stay ahead of her.

It should have been a relief to get out of the rain, but though it wasn’t cold, the place struck chill. Grey rainlight failed to reach all the corners of the entrance hall; faded hangings in muddy colours hung limp against the wall. The ceiling was at least five feet above my head, but I felt as though it pressed on my shoulders.

We followed Enthemmerlee down long, empty corridors. All the doors were shut, and I didn’t sense any movement behind them. How many empty rooms were there in this place?

Thranishalak opened the door on a pretty suite decorated in blue and white, uncluttered, but seeming overlarge for the slight, weary-looking girl who stood in the doorway. I gave it a quick check, with Bergast, to the obvious disapproval of Thranishalak, and found nothing that seemed threatening.

“Thank you,” Enthemmerlee said. “Now please, go make yourselves comfortable. They will call us for a meal soon.”

“But surely...” Bergast said.

I could hear the barely controlled shake in Enthemmerlee’s voice. “Yes ma’am,” I said. “We’ll see to everything. You rest.”

“Thank you.” She closed the door. I gripped Bergast’s shoulder and moved him away, ushering the others ahead of me.

Thranishalak opened a door opposite Enthemmerlee’s suite. “Your rooms, sir,” he said.

Bergast’s glance swept the funereal purple-draped splendour before him. He nodded, and placed his pack on the bed as though afraid it might raise a cloud of dust, though the place looked clean enough to me. “Thank you.”

My room was next to Enthemmerlee’s, with a connecting door. Fern-coloured silk hangings, clothes chests the colour of pine forests, a bed draped in dark jade covers, two pale green couches, and a heavy, ornate washing set, in green marble with gilding. Rather like the bottom of a luxurious pond.

I gave the place a quick going-over. Nothing but a few abandoned bits of clothing lurking in the chests. “Now, Mr Thranishalak, you know why I’m here, and why the Scholar is here?”

“To protect the... the Lady Enthemmerlee.”

“Yes. And am I right in thinking you are the head of the household?”

“I have the honour to be my Lord’s seneschal.” He had a way of staring just over my left shoulder which was like having a chilly draft run across my collarbone.

“Excellent. You’ll know the running of the place better than anyone. I’ll need to go over things with you, when you can give me a few moments. And perhaps you could spare someone to show us about?”

“That sort of thing would be the duty of the guard,” he said.

“Oh, of course, for the more obvious things,” I said. “But they won’t be on such terms with the inner household as yourself.”

“Certainly. If there is anything you wish to discuss, please call on me.”

“And when would be a good time to do that?”

“After supper. You will find me in the Lower Quarters. One of the other servants will direct you.”

“Before that, the gates.”

“The gates?”

“They need to be shut. The main gates. The ones that are standing wide open for any passing assassin to wander in.”

“I have received no such orders from the family,” the seneschal said.

“The family may not have thought of it. I am responsible for the Lady Enthemmerlee’s safety, and I
have
thought of it.” I shrugged. “If you don’t have the
authority
, of course...”

His tail twitched, once. “I will make arrangements.” He bowed about half an inch, and left.

No sooner had he disappeared than Malleay, flushed green in the face and gesticulating wildly, appeared with Lobik at his side. Malleay had a pretty green and gold snake draped around his shoulders, which seemed to be placidly unbothered by his extravagant gestures. “Where’s Enthemmerlee?”

“She’s in there,” I said. “She’s tired.”

“Oh. Oh, of course. The child upset her. But I must speak to her! I’m in the west wing near Fain, and Lobik and Rikkinnet have been shoved in the servants’ quarters!”

“Ah,” I said.

Malleay made for Enthemmerlee’s door.

“No,” Lobik said. “She is tired, and should rest, not be troubled with this.”

“But you’re being insulted!”

“Malleay, we have big battles. Maybe better to pick other fights than this.”

“But whoever arranged the rooms...” Malleay said.

“The seneschal, I imagine. He is...
tic dricancai
.”

“What does that mean?” I said.

“
Tic dricancai?
It means having chains in the head.” Lobik’s mouth twisted. “He has been a servant all his life; for him, to be a good servant is the highest he can reach. He does not wish to see himself as Ikinchli, any more, but he cannot be Gudain.”

“That’s horrible,” Malleay said.

“Do you think he’s likely to be a threat?” I said.

“To Enthemmerlee?” Lobik frowned. “He lives by his loyalty to the family. He might wish things would return to the way they were, but I do not think he would hurt her to make it happen.”

“How can he want that?” Malleay burst out. “How can he possibly want that?”

“Change is frightening, Malleay,” Lobik said. “For you, no. You are young, you welcome it, you see a future you can take in your hands, and shape. But for someone like him... Imagine you are a poor carpenter, Malleay, scraping a living with the work of your hands. Perhaps you did not want to be a carpenter, but it was expected, or it was all there was. It is hard, and you have very little. Your one hope is to earn enough that when you can no longer work, you will have enough to keep you. And someone comes and says, soon, no one will need chairs any more. The first thing you will see is not, perhaps, that now you might be able to do something else with your life, that you are free, but instead, you think only that you will starve for lack of work.

“Once cannot force people to welcome change. One has to coax them into the net, like fish. No, that is a bad... what is the word? A bad metaphor. And also now I am hungry.” He grinned, and I felt that stab of attraction again. It was, as much as anything, that smile; his was a face that had seen trouble, but his smile was joyous, life-embracing. “I think he may be difficult,” Lobik went on. “He may make trouble in small ways. But an assassin? No.”

“Good. Because it’s not as though we need another one,” I said.

“You don’t think that one, what was his name, that Kankish, has gone,” Lobik said.

“Maybe. But if he had the guts to risk his neck in that crowd, who’d have torn him apart if she hadn’t given the word, maybe not. And maybe he’ll find some friends. Either way, I’d rather know where he is. Any chance of sending someone after him?” I said.

“We can, at least, alert the Fenac. Or, rather...” Lobik shrugged. “His lordship can. If I go...”

Malleay said, “Even if they listen, they’ll just arrest the first Ikinchli they find near the border.”

“It was attempted murder,” I said.

“It was attempted murder of the Itnunnacklish. Most of them would probably be happy to see her dead.”

“On the other hand, it was attempted murder of a member of the Ten Families,” Lobik said. “Put like that, perhaps...”

“I’ll report it,” Malleay said. “But it still doesn’t mean they’ll do anything. Now, the rooms.”

“Rikkinnet needs to be here,” I said. “I can’t watch Enthemmerlee every minute, there have to be at least two of us.”

“Well, I can watch her,” Malleay said.

I was still trying to come up with a tactful way of telling him why that wasn’t going to be good enough when Rikkinnet arrived, scowling.

“Rikkinnet!” I said, with relief. “Excellent. Will you have any objection to sharing my room? It’s more than big enough.”

“I do not object. Others will.”

“Others will have to. I’m here to guard Enthemmerlee, not be a damn diplomat,” I said. Although according to Fain, I was supposed to be doing both. And, of course, I needed to track down the blasted silk, if possible. But Enthemmerlee came first. Which meant I was going to have to have a word with Bergast, too.

M
OVEMENT IN THE
corridor had me rushing out again half-changed, to find servants with jugs of steaming water knocking on the doors. Enthemmerlee opened her door as I was confronting the nervous Ikinchli lass who stood in front of it.

The girl took one look at her changed mistress and nearly dropped the jug. Enthemmerlee smiled at her, and took it gently out of her hands.

“May I?” I said, following her into the room.

“Of course, please.”

I shut the door behind us on the staring girl. “Would you hold off on using that water for a moment?” I said

“Certainly, but why?”

“Just a precaution. At least... Do you know if humans and Gudain can crossbreed?”

“I don’t know. We don’t... I don’t know.”

“It’s just that species close enough to crossbreed are usually susceptible to a lot of the same poisons. And this” – I took out my jug, a tiny thing of pale blue opalescent stuff which held barely a thimbleful of liquid, and dripped a little of the washing water into it – “detects most of those poisons.”

Enthemmerlee peered at it, fascinated as a child. “And if there is poison, what happens?”

“It turns red.”

“What a wonderful device,” she said. “So useful. Where did you come by it?”

“Don’t know where it came from, originally; I got it as part payment for a job. I was transport security for a Farhiseer Kai tripart, dealing in precious metals.”

“What is a Farhiseer Kai tripart?” Enthemmerlee said.

“They’re actually three interdependent beings. Each of them performs part of the physical function for the whole, but they have separate identities.”

“Oh, how strange! They gave it to you?”

“No. They tried to pay me in fake currency. I took it as compensation.”

“You have seen so much,” she said. “I must seem very ignorant.”

“It’s surprising how much you see when you’re running away,” I said. “I spent a lot of my life doing that. You could have done the same, but you didn’t.”

I realised I was still slightly mis-buttoned, and showing more cleavage than was probably acceptable. I buttoned up, and Enthemmerlee blushed.

“Sorry,” I said. “I will try and stay within the code of dress, but when I heard people... your safety comes first, you know?”

“No, please,” she said. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, as though she was trying to force the blush away. “Oh, this is very foolish! If you are not embarrassed, why should I be?”

I fiddled with the washstand for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “I’m used to a life with a lot of, well, skin in it. And where I came from, clothes are mostly ornament; it’s a hot country. It’s different here.”

“Not for the Ikinchli. I am still... In that way, I am still very much Gudain.” She indicated her robe. “The first time I put this on, I felt as though I were walking around naked. I wanted to find something that was a good compromise, between the way both races dress, but I do not think I have done very well. The Gudain think I look outrageous, and to the Ikinchli I look no differently dressed than any other Gudain.”

“I think your attempt is perhaps more successful than Malleay’s.”

“Neither of us is really successful,” she said, sighing. “We look foolish. It is perhaps too trivial a matter to spend so much thought on.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I don’t think you look foolish.”

“But you think Malleay does?”

“No, no, just... He’s not at ease in them.”

“You are too polite to say, but I know you think... People underestimate him,” she said. “He is a good man. He is perhaps a little impatient, and not always careful in what he says, but he is a good man, he wants to do what is right. I only wish...” She shook her head. “But now, I must wash.”

I
KNOCKED ON
Bergast’s door.

“Yes?”

“A word.”

“Wha...?”

I walked towards him, until he had to back away or be walked over, and pulled the door shut behind me.

He had already changed into another expensive-looking robe, and redone his hair.

“Now, Scholar Bergast. I assume you’ve not done this before?”

“Done what?” He raised his hands in front of him, round-eyed. “Madam Steel...”

“Bodyguarding.”

“Oh!” he said, with a relief that was, frankly, a little insulting. “Well, no, but...”

“I have. You’re the magical expert here, but I’ve done a fair bit of this style of work. I need to have a quick word with you about the rules.”

“Rules?” He gave me that high-nosed look. It tends to work better if you’re taller than the person you’re trying to look down at.

“Yes, rules,” I said. “Now, I was glad to see you keeping your eyes open, down on the docks.”

He blinked, and flushed a little. “Well...”

“But you walked off. You’re all we’ve got on the magical side, and that means that you don’t leave Enthemmerlee when we’re out in public, see? Even for a minute. Even for a piss. Hold it in, until you know she’s got someone else watching her.”

High colour surged into his cheeks. “I don’t believe I was told to take my orders from you.”

I hauled back on my temper, hard. “I
believe
Darask Fain will tell you the same thing. I assume you’ll be happy to take your orders from him?”