Chapter Twenty-Six
There was a discreet knock on the door of Rik’s chamber in the Palace at Halim. He lay still in the bed, luxuriating in its softness and comfort. It had been a week since they got back from Harven and he had started to recover from his ordeal. Sleep and food and some of the strange golden wine that Asea used to replenish her strength after magic had all helped. The voices were still in his head but they had sank back to a gentle murmur, omnipresent but almost unnoticeable except when he was tired or when he sought to work sorcery; then they would swell to a chorus that could almost swamp his sanity.
“Come in,” he said.
A servant in palace livery entered, bearing a silver platter on which lay a message. Just as quietly as he had entered, he withdrew to let Rik read it in privacy. The envelope was of thick expensive paper; the seal was one he did not recognise. Briefly he wondered about poison or letter curses or any of the other strange things he had heard of but decided that he most likely did not warrant such a thing. He broke the seal and studied the writing. The penmanship was lovely, the characters clearly formed in a precise hand. It said:
Lord Sardontine and his Lady wife request the pleasure your presence on the evening of the seventh day of the twelfth month. Our evening of music and conversation will begin at the eighth bell of evening.
It was signed by Lord Sardontine. Rik folded the letter up and placed it back in its envelope. He wondered why the old Terrarch wanted him at his dinner. Perhaps he was expected to sing for his supper with tales of his bravery. Or perhaps they were hoping for more gossip about their Queen or Rik’s recent trip to Harven. His instinctive response was to turn the invitation down. He had no place hobnobbing with Terrarch aristocrats. He was a former thief from the streets of Sorrow. For all the training Asea and her servants had given him, he remained so at heart. He doubted he could feel comfortable moving among such people.
When he visited Asea in her chambers, he mentioned it to her.
'You should go,' she said. She was dressed once more in a gown. She still looked pale and more than a little gaunt. Their trip to Harven seemed to have been even more costly for her than it had been for him. He doubted she was getting much sleep. At night when he had passed her chambers, he had heard the sound of chanting, even through the sound deadening spells. She was preparing powerful magic. Doubtless she anticipated a struggle with Lord Malkior in the not too distant future.
'Why?' he asked.
'Because Lord Sardontine is one of those old aristocrats who likes to keep a foot in both camps. It would not hurt to get a feel for what he is saying.'
'I seriously doubt that if he has any traitorous plans he is going to explain them to me over dinner.'
'Sometimes you are surprisingly naive, Rik,' she said and smiled. She obviously knew that would annoy him. The voices hissed disapproval in the back of his mind.
'In what way?'
'Lord Sardontine knows you are my protege. He is simply trying to establish a direct line of communication.'
That made a certain amount of sense. The thought of being Asea's emissary did not make him any more comfortable with the idea of going to the dinner. His encounter with Malkior and the ease with which he had been taken had left him more than a little suspicious. “I don’t like hobnobbing with the upper crust,” he said, to hide his real reason.
'All the more reason for you to do it,' she said. 'The only way you will feel at ease with the Aristals is if you mingle with them. I assure you there is nothing to be intimidated about.'
That was easy for her to say with her millennia old bloodline and her eternal presence among the high aristocracy. He wondered if she really had the slightest idea of what it was like to be him, and decided that she did not. Still she was right in one way. Putting himself into the situation was the only way he would ever become comfortable with it, and he needed to be so if he was ever going to fulfil his ambitions in this world.
'I believe I will take your advice.'
'Good. Just one thing…'
'Yes.'
'It would probably be for the best if you did not mention all the training you have undergone. Let them think you enjoy a life of ease. And try not to mention our recent hair-raising escapades in Harven.” Her smile showed him that she knew he could be trusted not to bring the matter up in conversation.
'I will do my best.'
'I am sure that will be more than adequate. You will be a credit to everything I have taught you.'
Her smile widened a fraction. What was she up to, Rik wondered?
Lord Sardontine's mansion was near the Palace. High white walls tipped with spikes surrounded it. Burly footmen waited by the gates. The coach rumbled up the long driveway, under arches of dragon-trees. More servants waited to greet him as he descended. He felt odd, almost as nervous as he had done before infiltrating the Serpent Tower. He told himself that this would be much less dangerous but could not quite bring himself to believe it. The voices whimpered nervously in the back of his mind.
From inside came the strains of complex chamber music. He paused for a moment, breathing in the scented air. There were many blooms here of a type he had never smelled before. Apparently Lord Sardontine or his wife was a keen gardener. He took a deep breath, composed his face into the cold mask he had seen Terrarch officers wear, and strode up the steps.
A human butler showed him through the corridors and he was ushered into a finely furnished chamber. Panels embossed with golden Elder Signs covered the white painted walls. A massive chandelier full of glowglobes descended from the ceiling. A small chamber orchestra played on a raised dais. Groups of people stood around chatting in the corners. As he entered, Lady Sardontine rose from her seat and moved to greet him.
'Ah, here is the hero of the Serpent Tower,' she said. Her voice was low and breathy. Her hand lingered on his arm for longer than was strictly necessary. She met his gaze boldly and with a mischievous glitter in her eye. 'Come, let me introduce you.'
Rik looked around the chamber for her husband but the elderly Terrarch was nowhere visible. He was moved in a whirl from group to group, bowing to the ladies and gentlemen alike, speaking in the courtly formal way Asea had impressed on him. He did his best to memorise the names, a process that was not helped by the strong liquor in the goblet Lady Sardontine pressed into his hand from a tray carried by a liveried footman.
'You do look handsome tonight,' she said as they moved between groups.
'And you look extraordinarily beautiful.' It seemed like the easiest thing to say. Her face brightened at the simple praise. She tilted her head to one side as she studied him. “You have changed. You seem a little more seasoned.”
“That was an interesting choice of words.”
'I heard you have added a new skill to your repertoire — you are now an aeronaut.' Here it comes, thought Rik, the first few questions of the Inquisition.
This was overheard by a tall, golden-haired Terrarch in the uniform of a Captain of one of the Kharadrean regiments. 'It cannot possibly compare to dragon-riding,' he said, butting into the conversation.
'I am surprised you are in a position to compare,' said Rik lightly. 'I had thought ballooning was still a novelty.'
'One does not need to wield a club to know that it cannot compare to a rapier.' The Terrarch's voice had a dangerous edge. Rik wondered at the way he had so smoothly manoeuvred the conversation into talk of weapons. Would there be talk of a duel next? He doubted it; he was not the sort of person a Terrarch noble would deign to fight with.
'You have a point,' Rik said, gesturing to the captain's own sword. To his surprise the Terrarch laughed, as did Lady Sardontine.
'You did well at the Serpent Tower,' said the Captain. 'I have heard the Queen plans to reward you.'
'No reward is necessary,' said Rik. 'It was a privilege to serve her majesty.'
He found himself falling into his pre-ordained role of suitably humble hero a little too easily for his own
