The Dog of the North (45 page)

Beauceron shrugged. ‘She will not be safe inside the walls when the city falls. It would be advisable to secure her now.’

‘Her fate is of no interest to me,’ said Brissio. ‘She has ruined Davanzato and been a drain on the Winter Court. If she wishes to take her chances with Oricien, let
her.’

Beauceron shook his head in impatience. ‘Her father will yet pay for her return. You are throwing away silver.’

‘Enough, Beauceron. I have spoken. I told my father you show nothing but insubordination. Do not forget who commands here: if I must take stern measures, I shall.’

1

After a poor night’s sleep Arren rose early and took a dismal breakfast of flat beer and a haunch of bread left over from the servants’ supper. He looked out
through the window; as the early sun spread into the courtyard he saw Sir Langlan stepping crisply through a series of drills with his rapier. He got up and went to join him.

‘Good morning, Sir Langlan!’

‘Why, Arren, you are abroad early! At your age I would sleep until noon, if indeed I had gone to bed yet.’

Arren grinned ruefully. ‘I could not sleep.’

‘You are young to have worries. I have the excuse that I am Regent in Lord Thaume’s absence. I find a pass or two with the rapier keeps me calm. The apothecary tells me it is better
than ale.’

‘Shall we spar a little?’ asked Arren, reaching down a rapier hanging on the wall.

Sir Langlan bowed his head. ‘Why not, although you are becoming too proficient for me.’

They fenced with vigour for a quarter-hour. In real combat Arren would have been dead three or four times over.

‘Sit down, lad,’ said Sir Langlan. ‘We all have troubles from time to time: I have surely had my share. The important thing is never, ever to have troubles in your mind when
you have a sword in your hand. The blade is a mistress who shares her favours with nobody.’

Arren sat on the bench. ‘It is not always so easy.’

‘No,’ said Sir Langlan. ‘But it is possible. I killed two men in Emmen, both in fair duels. That is bad, is it not?’

‘Well, I—’

‘King Arren had banned duels at court: he had lost too many nobles from petty vendettas. So what I did was all but treasonous. How could things have been worse?’

‘It seems they could not.’

‘You are wrong,’ said Sir Langlan. ‘In the duels, it could have been me who died. I was under sentence of death for the second, but I could not let that enter my mind. I killed
the man they sent to take me, and King Arren spared my life. If there is a moral to the story – other than not to fight a duel when they are banned on pain of death, which is self-evident
– it is that your mind must be empty when you fight.’

Arren nodded.

‘At your age, I will wager your concerns are, if not trivial, at least of a nature you will look on with greater proportion when you are my age. Let me guess: a girl?’

Arren flushed.

‘Aha! In this matter, at least, I can speak with the authority of considerable experience. Women are the most important aspect of life, as long as you realize that they are the least
important. A lovely woman is a spectacular diversion from the travails of the day, so potent that your concerns vanish to less than nothing. All is delight, until you make the mistake of believing
that her charms are real or enduring: it is like trying to grasp a dream, doomed to failure, and destroying the phantasm you once enjoyed.’

Arren frowned. ‘Your view is somewhat cheerless.’

‘Nonsense! I am exhorting you to enjoy your frolics at face value, and not to delude yourself looking for deeper meanings. Under such circumstances no lasting harm can ensue.’

Arren frowned as he tried to apply this precept to his dalliance with Siedra. ‘Your precepts are perhaps simplistic for all situations.’

Sir Langlan gave an airy wave. ‘Maybe so, although if a contingency more complex arises I swiftly remove myself from the scene! Think of the dog in the yard as he mounts the bitch: does he
concern himself with illusions of imperishable love? Of course not! He seeks only to ease his needs in the most convenient way.’

‘I do not view my own relations in quite the same light,’ said Arren stiffly.

Sir Langlan smilingly shook his head. ‘You are young, you are young. Look, here comes Siedra. As long as you keep away from her, you cannot go too far amiss.’

Arren smiled wanly. ‘Good morning, Siedra. You are awake early.’

Her eyes passed slowly over Arren’s face. ‘I could not sleep.’

‘I had a similar experience: I found that a bout of sword-play with Sir Langlan answered very well.’

‘The expedient is not open to me,’ said Siedra. ‘I would be as like to skewer myself. Besides, I am sure that Sir Langlan’s duties as Regent will soon take him about his
business.’

Sir Langlan rose. ‘That moment has arrived. The merchant Graix complains that his neighbour has blocked his sewage pipe and I must give a ruling. The life of the lord is not all wine and
ladies, unfortunately.’ He bowed and walked across the courtyard to Lord Thaume’s reception room.

‘I did not see you last night,’ said Siedra. ‘I had hoped to find you.’

Arren shrugged. ‘I had to exercise my gallumpher, and I took some ale with Fleuraume.’

Siedra scowled. ‘Your implicit assessment of my company is not flattering. Still, today will do as well.’

‘Siedra—’

‘If you have energy to repeat yesterday’s exertions, of course.’

‘There is something I must say.’

Siedra tilted her nose in the air. ‘Nothing introduced with such a portentous tone can be worth listening to. Either you propose a sentimental declaration which cannot be germane to the
situation, or you advance some feeble reason why my plans for the day will be overset. I will tolerate neither possibility. You are to be light, cheerful and attentive, without puppyish scampering.
The task surely cannot be too challenging.’

Arren drooped. This was going to be even more difficult than he had expected.

‘Well, Arren? You surely cannot think your drab demeanour represents my wishes.’

A voice interrupted them as a liveried servant burst into the courtyard. ‘My lady! Seigneur Arren! Lord Thaume is at the gate!’

Arren gave an inward sigh. ‘Thank you, Maussay. We will repair to meet him immediately.’

Siedra shook her head in vexation. ‘Am I always to be thwarted? Perhaps we can slip away after supper tonight. The Pleasaunce in the moonlight will be suitable for an
assignation.’

Arren refrained from mentioning that the moon was at its smallest phase. Time enough to deal with the matter later.

2

Supper was a more convivial occasion than the last time Lord Thaume’s household had eaten together. ‘Welcome, one and all,’ said Thaume to the select
group he had chosen to assemble around him for his first night back in Croad. On either side he had seated Lady Jilka and Oricien, who carried himself with greater confidence than six weeks earlier
when they had departed for Emmen. Ranged around the table were Sir Langlan, Master Pinch, Master Guiles, Viator Sleech, Master Coppercake and, at the foot of the table, Siedra and Arren.

‘I have much to report,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘I have paid homage to King Jehan, as has Oricien, against the day when he rules Croad.’

‘What manner of man is Jehan, Father?’ asked Siedra.

‘He is in the prime of his life, perhaps thirty-five years of age. He is fair-spoken, pious without over-religiosity, and displays no overt vices. He desires peace with Gammerling, and
while we were there he invited King Gundovald and his sons to visit Emmen at their pleasure.’

Sir Langlan sniffed. ‘A milksop, then?’

‘He desires the good of his people. And he displayed no intention to invite either of the kings of Mettingloom to wait upon him. He will do well enough, I think.’

‘A good king considers the welfare of his people above glory,’ said Master Pinch. ‘The view is unfashionable, particularly among the gallant, but such a man should command our
respect, if not the adulation of balladeers.’

‘I told him of our wars in the North,’ said Lord Thaume. ‘The King was much interested in your dimonetto, Pinch – as was young Prince Enguerran. You will find a ready
welcome at the court whenever you require it.’

Pinch assumed an expression half-smile, half-grimace. ‘The honour is one I neither merit nor desire. Thaumaturgy and princes do not mix. Much as I have valued your company, my lord, this
world of affairs is not for me. These questions are all distractions from my study of the Unseen Realms.’

‘And how were you received at the court, my lord?’ asked Master Guiles.

Lord Thaume smiled at some private amusement. ‘I was fortunate to arrive half a week before Lord High Viator Raugier, and was able to explain the matter of his expulsion without
interruption or misdirection. By the time Raugier arrived His Puissance had formed his opinion, and Lord Raugier’s complaints fell on indifferent ears. The King has required Darrien to remain
as a hostage until the question is officially settled, but the matter is a formality. I do not flatter myself if I say that the King formed a positive impression of our party. If I were minded to
spend half the year at court, I might exert some influence.’

Siedra spoke up. ‘Are our prospects enhanced, sir?’

Lord Thaume stroked his chin. ‘In a manner of speaking, I suppose.’

‘Perhaps you will find it less necessary to conciliate Duke Panarre now that our standing is so high in Emmen?’

‘Duke Panarre remains my overlord; in addition, his troops are a week away in time of need, unlike the King over the mountains.’

‘Surely,’ continued Siedra, ‘you no longer need to pursue the idea of marriage into the Duke’s house with such enthusiasm. Are there no suitable matches at
court?’

Arren noticed that Siedra was not so interested in his own attractions tonight now that the court in Emmen beckoned.

Lord Thaume said: ‘The idea of a match at court must be pursued. However, Oricien made such a favourable impression that it is he who shall be returning. Since Guigot is no longer
available in my marriage plans, it remains expedient that you marry a connection of the Duke’s. Indeed, we may now be able to press for Lord Trevarre: I should like to see my grandson Duke of
Lynnoc’

Siedra’s eyes narrowed. ‘I am no more enthusiastic to marry Lord Trevarre than the unspeakable Dinarre. Do my wishes count for nothing?’

‘You have at last appreciated the truth. I naturally hope for every happiness in your marriage, but it would be in the nature of a bonus rather than the purpose of the match. Granted, Lord
Trevarre tends to the effeminate at times, but I am assured he can father children. All else is froth.’

Arren excused himself and slipped out to the privy, although his main aim was to see Eilla. On his way back he saw her in the corridor bringing dishes to Lord Thaume’s table.

‘I hope that is not yesterday’s fish,’ he said.

Eilla, trim in her crisp white livery, shot Arren a look of incredulity. ‘Have you spoken to Siedra yet?’

‘Not as such.’

‘Then you have nothing to say to me.’ She bustled past into the dining room. Arren returned to his seat with a heavy tread.

Siedra leaned over and whispered to him. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I have drunk half a flask of wine. Where do you think?’

‘I noticed you came in behind that Eilla, and she does not look in a good humour.’

‘Neither would you be if you had been running up and down from the kitchen all evening.’

Siedra narrowed her eyes. ‘I have suggested before that it is unwise for you to associate with the servants. It lowers your cachet.’

Eilla appeared on her round of the table with a flask of strong red Garganet wine. ‘More wine, Seigneur?’

‘No thank you, Eilla.’

‘My lady?’

‘I think I shall,’ said Siedra, holding out her goblet. As Eilla moved to pour the flask the highly polished silver slipped from her grasp and in an instant disgorged its contents
all over Siedra’s honey-silk dress.

‘Oh! My lady!’ cried Eilla, with a quarter-glance at Arren. ‘How could I have been so clumsy!’

Siedra sprang erect. ‘A cloth! Water!’

Eilla dabbed at Siedra’s dress with a napkin, grinding the wine ever deeper into the fabric. Siedra’s face was the colour of the wine. Eilla would pay a high price for her prank.

‘Eilla, enough!’ said Siedra. She took a slow and deliberate look at Arren. ‘Come now, it was an accident. I am sure Mistress Eulalia knows a thousand methods for leaching a
wine-stain. Do not fret yourself.’

Arren looked on in astonishment. The dress was ruined, and everyone knew it. On past experience she would have demanded Eilla whipped and the cost of the dress deducted from her wages.

Eilla too looked dumbstruck. She bowed tamely. ‘I am very sorry, my lady. I will be more careful in future.’ She walked from the room, her head down.

‘You must excuse me, Arren,’ Siedra said. ‘I will need to change my dress.’ She leaned forward so no one else could hear. ‘And when I have changed I will meet you
in the Pleasaunce. I will be no longer than thirty minutes.’

‘You were surprisingly temperate with Eilla,’ said Arren.

Siedra shrugged. ‘The girl is slow and clumsy. It is not her fault. Perhaps in due course she will be moved to less demanding duties, but it is wrong to berate her.’

‘Indeed it is,’ said Arren carefully.

‘I know, you are thinking of when I abused her last. Perhaps you are a good influence on me,’ she said with a surreptitious squeeze of his knee under the table.

Arren sat and finished his wine thoughtfully. He listened as Oricien told the company about his experiences at court; Arren would not have recognized the diffident young man of a season back. He
had hunted with Jehan’s son Prince Enguerran and danced with his daughter Princess Melissena, and gave favourable reports of many of the young ladies of the court: Ladies Misiana, Reute,
Isola, Nolmina. He was growing into the next Lord of Croad.

Arren still had a while before his rendezvous with Siedra. Her restraint when Eilla had spilled the wine had surprised him. Was Siedra perhaps capable of better than he had imagined? She had
always been spoiled and indulged at every turn. For whatever reason, she seemed to regard his good opinion as important, and perhaps she was willing to improve her behaviour to secure it. Eilla had
not shown to such advantage: the spillage had surely not been accidental. It might be precipitate to break with Siedra when they met in the Pleasaunce. Did he not owe her the chance to prove that
her conduct had improved?