knows what he should recall, even though he can't recall it.'
'You two are boring me,' said Donskoy. 'Since when did peasant lore and superstitions become the stuff of polite discourse? I visited Darkon many times, and I remember every moment.'
'And are they pleasant memories?' asked Marguerite.
Donskoy drank heavily from his goblet, then let out a sigh. 'Some. .' he murmured.
Both his companions awaited his next comment, but Donskoy had fallen silent, immersed in his own thoughts.
Jacqueline dabbed her lips, then cleaned her dagger and retired it. 'Well,' she said to Marguerite, 'I have not visited Darkon, and I should like very much to go. I've heard that Castle Avernus, Lord Azalin's keep, holds many treasures that could turn one's head.'
'No doubt,' answered Marguerite dryly, thinking that Jacqueline would fit well with Azalin's reputed decadence. 'But Darkon lies quite far from here. One needs the assistance of the Vistani to traverse the terrain with any certainty. And I'm not sure I could recommend the trip. My own passage was not very pleasant.'
'It pains me to hear it,' said Jacqueline, with only a trace of sincerity. 'But then, in the hands of the gypsies, one wonders how you survived at all.'
Marguerite laughed. 'I understand your attitude. Yet I can't forget that it's the Vistani who brought me to Donskoy's attention. I think a few sinister caravans color the reputation of the entire race.'
'You're much too generous. In my experience, the only useful caravans are those who swear fealty to gold. And Donskoy finds even their stench so strong he can barely abide it. Both he and I know just how deep the Vistani treachery can run, and what kind of misery they breed.'
Donskoy slammed a fist on the table. Marguerite jumped, then stared at him, agape. The associates, who had been content to enjoy their own conversations, ceased talking as well. The hall fell silent, but for the crackling of the fire and the creaking of wood. It was as if the scene had frozen. When at last Donskoy spoke again, his voice was strained yet even. 'Jacqueline,' he said deeply. 'You must choose your topics more carefully.' His pale blue eyes had turned to ice.
Jacqueline arched a brow but said nothing, For a time, no one spoke at all. Then Donskoy excused himself from the table, saying that he would return momentarily. He strode out of the hall, and the associates resumed their rumbling.
Jacqueline smiled sweetly at Marguerite. 'Touched a nerve, I guess. But he'll recover. He always does.'
'What did you say to set him off?' Marguerite asked. 'What treachery did he endure?'
'None but his own,' said Jacqueline cryptically. She glanced furtively toward the men at the nearby tables, then leaned in close to her companion. 'May I speak freely with you, Marguerite?'
'Of course.' Marguerite braced herself for an indelicate comment.
Jacqueline's voice remained honey-sweet. 'You think of me as a threat, do you not?'
'Why, no-'
'But you do, I fear. You think of me as some kind of competition. You mustn't, though. Donskoy desires a son. Moreover, he has become obsessed with the notion of sowing his seed on pure ground. It has been many years since I fit that description, and I can assure you, motherhood doesn't interest me in the least, nor does a permanent residence in this grim and primitive palace.'
'And precisely what are your interests?' asked Marguerite boldly.
Jacqueline laughed. 'Yes,' she said. 'Perhaps a more direct approach is best. May I share a secret with you, Marguerite?'
'If it pleases you,I' said Marguerite cautiously. She did not trust this woman any farther than she could sneeze. And certainly any «secret» this snake-woman shared would be some kind of lie, a manipulation.
'Do you not wonder how I came here?' asked Jacqueline.
'[assume you came in a carriage.'
'How quaint. Yes, of course, in a carriage, But when the mists are heavy, it's very easy to lose your way. Some time ago I acquired the means to navigate almost as well as the Vistani themselves-the means, yes, but unfortunately not the mastery. I have spent many years trying to understand my treasure, tapping the finest minds in my pursuit. Mow I dare to hope my skills are improving.'
'How nice for you,' said Marguerite. 'But I'm not sure I follow your story.'
'The point is, it could be nice for you as well,' replied Jacqueline.
'I beg your pardon?'
'Business, Marguerite. That is my interest. Your husband hopes to achieve a kind of spiritual renewal through you. I, on the other hand, would like to effect a more tangible renaissance-one that is measured in gold. Lord Donskoy once reveled in his business, but no more. Oh, he still dabbles, but he will never see things reach their full potential again. I, on the other hand, have both the means and the desire. Donskoy once relied on certain Vistani tribes for his mobility. Soon I could fulfiil the same role, and more. All I require is his support. And of course, the benefits would flow to him as well as to you.'
'Jacqueline,' Marguerite protested, 'I have no idea what you're talking about. And I truly think-'
'We'll talk more of this in the future,' Jacqueline interrupted. She tipped her head toward the door. 'When things become clearer, you may find we understand one another better.'
Lord Donskoy had returned to the hall. A smile flickered across his face; the stormy mood appeared to have passed. Before returning to the head table, he stopped to talk with some of his associates.
Marguerite looked at the woman beside her, but Jacqueline did not return the glance. She was smifing sweetfy in Donskoy's direction. Without turning her gaze, she said, 'Are you happy here, Marguerite?'
'Yes, of course.'
'And do you sleep well? No bumps in the night to awaken you?'
'I have slept well for the past two nights.'
'You have heard no strange creaktngs, Marguerite?' Jacqueline spoke softly, and she continued to smile in Donskoy's direction. 'No unearthly shadows have come to hover about your bed?'
'Mothing has disturbed my sleep,' Marguerite said. She did not add that the only unearthly shadow she had seen had been lurking outside the keep, on the day she arrived. 'Why do you ask?'
'No reason,' Jacqueline said, still not looking at Marguerite. 'E find Donskoy's castle somewhat. . bothersome at night.'
Donskoy gave a hearty laugh, then turned away from his associates. As he approached the head table, Jacqueline's smile became coy, and she leaned closer to Marguerite. 'I'm glad to hear the castle treats you better than it does me,' she whispered. 'A good night's rest is what you need to stay fresh.'
Sensing that it would not to do to probe further about Miss Montarri's troublesome nights, Marguerite sighed with exasperation. Fresh. Why must everyone speak as if she were a item growing stale in the pantry? Why must everyone be so eccentric?
Donskoy took his place behind the high table. 'What we need now,' he announced loudly, 'is the entertainment!' He motioned to Ljubo, who was standing at attention near the men's tables. 'Alert Ekhart,' he commanded. 'And fetch the hounds.'
This development took Marguerite by surprise. She tried to imagine what would follow, daring to hope that the strange, somber banquet might give way to a more traditional celebration. In the castles of romantic tales, a feast never ended without the awe-inspiring turns of a juggler and acrobats, and the cheerful songs of a minstrel. Perhaps Donskoy was keeping them in the wings. Marguerite shook her head; it seemed unlikeiy. But what then? In Darkon's fortress Avernus, she had heard, «noble» guests often debauched themselves in the company of the castle guard, creating an obscene frenzy of pain and pleasure for the amusement of the great lord Azalin.
The door at the rear of the hall opened, and Ljubo reappeared, preceded by a hobbled beast that dragged itself forward on the ground. A leather hood concealed its head, but the rest of the body was exposed. It possessed the features of several animals, mostly bear and boar. A naked gray tail curled over its dark, bristly back. The slender rear legs, small for its immense bulk, ended in tiny hooves that clacked sharply against the smooth stone floor. The forelegs, covered by black shaggy fur, terminated in a pair of great bear paws. Its left front leg had been twisted around and bound against its flank with a barbed tether. Though Marguerite could not see the creature's face, she could hear it breathing heavily inside its hood. The nervous beast was swinging its head back and forth, from side to side.
The associates leaned forward at their tables, their eyes flickering with anticipation.
