Kingslayer (27 page)

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Authors: Honor Raconteur

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #military adventure

BOOK: Kingslayer
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He stopped in the first merchant’s shop and paused in the doorway, looking all around. This man seemed to be of the opinion that if he carried a little of everything, then surely someone would be interested in something. Just from the doorway he could see bolts of cloth, swords, scabbards, oils, books, and some of the religious candles of Shaa. There were only four tables inside, one dominating each wall with a narrow space to walk in between. Two grown men would have found it difficult to share the area without bumping into one another. “Ah, Bohme, why don’t you stay outside?” Darius suggested.

Bohme took a good look inside, eyeing the bored merchant who sat on a corner stool, and then grunted. “Prolly besht.”

Relieved, Darius stepped inside and started browsing. Some things he picked up automatically and started setting them on the narrow table at the merchant’s feet. Four white candles, a Book of Songs that held all of the teachings and stories of Shaa, two jars of a special lotion that protected the skin from the sun, and a square rug that had the silver knot of harmony and peace woven into a blue background. Every Arapeen household traditionally had the symbol somewhere in their home as it invited good feelings and made a house a welcoming place in spirit. It hadn’t felt right to Darius that he didn’t have the symbol somewhere in his rooms. The rug needed to go in his foyer. Hmmm or maybe his bedroom. He’d have to see.

But in spite of the things he saw that he wanted, he didn’t see anything right for Amalah. The books were out—she had been quite firm on that point. The bolts of cloth, as beautiful as they were, were also not appropriate in this culture. The hairpins were also borderline although he rather liked the look of that golden one with the dangling pearls. Maybe he could pick it up now and find a way to give it to her later…?

It didn’t solve the problem of what to buy her this time, though.

Undecided, he put the hairpin in the pile anyway before continuing to browse.

The merchant stirred, grey eyes narrowed under his bushy eyebrows. “Are you looking for something in particular, good master?”

With a weather eye on the door, he lowered his voice and confided, “A gift for a young woman. A
Niotanan
woman.”

“Ahhh.” The merchant clearly understood the difficulties this invited. “It’s a tricky thing, a man giving a woman a present in this culture.”

Darius groaned and rubbed at his temples. “Yes, it is that. I gave her an aromatic oil before so I can’t do that again. And she expressly forbade me from getting her a book.”

The merchant pointed with a gnarled hand toward the hairpin. “The pin?”

“For a later time,” Darius explained. “I don’t think she’ll accept it from me now.”

“Hmmm.” He turned and looked at his own wares for a moment before getting slowly to his feet. He had to twist sideways to get past Darius, but the man was thin enough that they barely brushed each other. From the table, he lifted a hand-held mirror. “What about this?”

Darius stared at it in amazement. This was not the polished brass that most mirrors were, but actual
glass
, which he’d rarely seen. It was oval in shape, set in a frame of polished wood that had been shined to a gleam. The lines of it were simple but elegant. From what he’d seen of Amalah’s taste, he thought it would suit her perfectly. “Does it come with a case?”

“Indeed, sir.” The merchant reached underneath the table and pulled out a wooden case that matched the mirror perfectly. Rectangular in shape, it barely had the size to house the mirror, but the craftsmanship was exquisitely done.

That present is going to cost quite a bit of silver.
He didn’t need to ask the price to know that. It would, in fact, cost almost as much as the book that Amalah had refused to let him buy. But now that he had laid eyes on it, he couldn’t imagine not being able to give it to her. “Master,” Darius started with his most charming smile, “since I’m buying so much from you at once, won’t you give me a bargain?”

Ten minutes later, he left the shop satisfied. He’d paid more than he should have, but he hadn’t done too badly. And the merchant promised to wrap everything up and have it delivered to the inn before nightfall so he didn’t have to figure out how to pack it all up for the trip home. All in all, he’d done well.

Bohme fell into step with him as he exited the shop. They’d gone all of three steps when he laconically stated, “You bought her preshent, didn’t you.”

Sands, he hadn’t been that obvious, had he? Darius plastered an innocent expression on his face and asked in confusion, “Who?”

His bodyguard shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, clearly not fooled.

Darr take it. He let out a sigh and confessed, “So maybe I did. How did you know?”

“Whenever we can’t find you, you’re with her,” Bohme said simply.

Surely not
every
time…. Darius started to run his encounters with Amalah through his head and frowned when he realized that Bohme was right. The few times he’d been with her, he hadn’t had anyone from his own House with him. How strange. It wasn’t like he had planned it that way.

“Thish woman,” Bohme said each word with careful neutrality, “will you chooshe her?”

“What, as my bride?” Darius shook his head in exasperation. What
was
it with their fixation on getting him settled? Did they really think that he’d take off as soon as the war with Brindisi had been won, never to be seen again? For that matter, where did they imagine that he would go? No other country would quite dare to offer him sanctuary, not knowing who he was. “Bohme, is it really so strange that I can just enjoy a woman’s company without wanting to court her? Amalah Sebresos is a lively, intelligent woman and I enjoy conversing with her. I’m not particularly interested in taking our relationship any further than that.”

“Hmmm. Sho you buy a woman you’re not courting giftsh.” Bohme didn’t believe this for one second and the expression on his face made that clear.

Darius knew very well that under that rough and scarred exterior lay a very quick mind. He started fervently praying that Bohme wouldn’t put the pieces together and figure out what the present was really for.

Shaa apparently wasn’t listening as a second later Bohme started chuckling. “You got losht again.”

Whirling on the man, he shot back, “Who said I had? I’m merely buying a beautiful woman, who is my friend, a gift while I’m away. Is that so strange?”

“Only time I shee you buy preshentsh ish when you have favor to return,” Bohme responded, shaking a playful finger in a mocking manner. “You got losht again. And
she
had to reshcue you.”

Now the man was clairvoyant? Growling, Darius punched him the arm. “Shut it. This time, it wasn’t my fault.”

For some reason, that made Bohme laugh even harder.

Darius lifted his eyes and both hands toward the heavens, praying for patience. Or at least the restraint he needed to refrain from smacking his bodyguard in the head. “Bohme, if I promise to feed you, will you shut up?”

The man made a great show of pressing his lips together, not a sound of mirth coming from his mouth. Darius decided to ignore the laughter still dancing in his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go eat.”

“Does Shego know?”

“Bohme, one more word out of you, and
you’ll
be for dinner.”

“Hahahaha.”

Darius stalked toward the inn, silently swearing to do something mean to Bohme later when the man least expected it.

 

 

They left early the next morning and traveled back to the palace. With the fair weather and clear roads, they made good time and reached the palace gates on the second day, just as the bells tolled the noon hour in deep, ringing tones. One of the guards waved them to a stop before they could ride all of the way through.

Darius kept Sohrab in check as the man came closer, snapping out a salute. “General. The queen wishes for you to report to her immediately.”

No doubt to hear whether his idea would work or not. To the guard, Darius gave a nod. “Understood. Thank you.” Mentally, he groaned. He didn’t like reporting to his superiors with only negative news. Bad news was always more palatable when you had a good alternative to suggest instead. And why did she always send for him when he had just spent hours on the road? Although this time wouldn’t be as bad as last time, fortunately, because of his bath last night.

Resigned, he urged Sohrab back into motion and rode straight for the stables. As he dismounted, he told everyone, “Go home ahead of me. Once I’ve reported to the queen, I’ll return as well.”

For some strange reason, when he said this, Bohme and Tolk looked at each other and shook a fist at each other three times before stopping with their fingers in odd configurations. Their expressions indicated they were quite serious, but he couldn’t fathom what they were doing. “Ah…what was that?”

“Child’s game,” Tolk explained simply. “Called rock-paper-scissors.”

“Shince we were kiddensh, it’sh how we deshide on who doesh what,” Bohme further explained. “I losht, sho I go with you.”

I see. So that’s how they decide who’s going with me when I don’t give them any orders.
Childish, certainly, but if it worked…. Shrugging, he responded, “But here it’s not necessary. We are inside the palace, after all.”

Bohme’s eyes crinkled up mischievously. “You don’t have good hishtory walking around alone, shir.”

Darius gave him a glare hot enough to melt steel. “Shut it, Bohme.”

“Rather not have to go looking for you later,” Bohme added with mock concern.

“Oh for the love of—!” Darius ran an agitated hand through his hair and gave up. “Fine, come with me.” Without waiting for the man, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the nearest door. Just because he got lost
once
(fine, twice, but the second time hadn’t been his fault) no one trusted him anymore. Or at least, they were getting a good laugh at his expense.

Bohme stretched out those long legs of his and quickly caught up, grinning like a fool. Darius steadfastly ignored the snickering behind him.

Once inside, he quickly realized that he had no idea where the queen might be. She took great delight in meeting him in different rooms, at all different times, proving to be very unpredictable. He stopped the first palace runner he saw, asking for the queen’s whereabouts. It took two tries before he found someone who knew, and fortunately she was in her private garden, which he knew how to get to from here. Feeling a little triumphant, he walked confidently there, silently proving to Bohme that he
could
navigate his way around without help, thank you very much.

Bohme had a sardonic smile on his face that said he knew what Darius was thinking but he didn’t say a word. Wise man. It would have started a fight if he had.

The private garden of the queen didn’t look like any other garden in the palace. Most of the palace gardens had tile and planters of flowers with a water fountain here and there. Her garden had actual grass with a few paving stones forming paths, lush fruit trees, and a small brook winding its way through the center that ended in a small pond. In this desert land, keeping the place so green and lush must be an unending challenge. Darius always enjoyed being here, as the smell of growing plants and water filled his head and reminded him of other places he had been. The air felt moister here too, reminding him of home. Whenever he did buy a house, maybe he should put a garden like this in his own yard.

Queen Tresea sat in the shade of one of the trees on a mound of pillows, a stack of reports near her feet that suggested she hadn’t retreated here to escape work, but had simply changed venues while she worked. One of the reasons why Darius admired her was because of her work ethic. When he saw her, he gave a hail, “My Queen.”

She looked up, the parchment in her hands lowering. “Ah, Darius! You’re back. Tell me what you have discovered.”

He stopped a foot away from her and gave her a bow before responding frankly, “The ideas that I had in mind will not work. I went out to the harbor walls personally and looked them over. Trying to attach any sort of gate would put too much strain on the walls and it will cause too much damage. I can’t modify the walls to let out water when I wish, either.”

“Darius,” Tresea responded with false mildness, “I want
good
news.”

“Apologies, My Queen,” he sighed. “I didn’t like my discoveries either. But I did talk to some local experts and they gave me several ideas. With your permission, I will recruit a few specialists and do some experimentation to see if I can come up with another plan.”

She sighed and waved a hand. “Permission granted. And the defenses you are building along the Dakan Pass? How do they progress?”

“The plans were finalized a week ago and the supplies are being gathered and sent there as we speak,” he assured her. “We are well within schedule.”

“And my army’s training?”

“I haven’t checked with them for several days, of course, but the last time I stopped in and spoke with my commanders, they were doing well. Between the rest and the new methods, the men’s stamina has improved and they are becoming better at fighting with the new shields. I do not think we will lose as many troops the next time that we fight.” Darius hoped not, at least. He had a great many plans and tactics in place to make Brindisi’s larger numbers meaningless but the tides of war were never predictable.

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