The Diplomat (22 page)

“Don’t be petulant, now.” Yorin frowned at Calan, who turned his head away. “So it’s true. It wasn’t enough that you couldn’t give your sister a moment’s peace throughout her poor life. You aspired to kill her too. I should have smothered you in the cradle, you venomous, detestable, loathsome—”

“Yorin,” said Cedrin, and Yorin’s brows jumped.

“Your Grace.” Yorin bowed with haste. “I didn’t see you there. Forgive me.”

“Please have your guardsmen escort Calan to the cells. Talitha and I will need much time to decide what is to be done.”

Yorin gestured to the guards. “You heard the King! Take Prince Calan to his new quarters. Don’t bother dusting them this time.”

Muhan yanked Calan to his feet—Calan’s face contorted with the ache of constrained violence, but he seemed unable to break free—before shoving him to the guards. They took him by either arm and dragged him toward the door.

As he was forced into the stairwell, Calan held his gaze on Rema. “Enjoy fucking my sister from here to Arann. There’s a death sentence over both of our heads.” As the sound of his boots scraping down the stairs faded, Rema shivered. Rarely were parting words so frighteningly true.

“Forgive Calan his vulgarities,” said Cedrin. “I must go now and tell Talitha what has transpired. It will be a shock to her, as if she had lost two children in one night.” Weariness clouded his eyes. “We owe you a great debt.”

“Not so,” said Rema. “I’ve stolen Elise from you. No act can compensate for such a loss.”

“I was dubious when I first saw you.” Cedrin struggled to his feet. “A female diplomat was well beyond my understanding. Now I begin to see the error of my thinking. Please take care of my daughter. She is difficult and audacious.”

“Those are strengths, Your Grace.” Rema’s power returned as she spoke, for the first time, in open defense of the woman she secretly loved. “Your daughter is one of the finest women I’ve ever met. Her courage has moved and inspired me. Her words of indignation are like a fire amid the snow. You should have nothing but pride in her.”

“I never was an easy father.” Cedrin crossed to the window and stared into the night. “I judged her as wicked. I ignored her pleas to remain unmarried. I knew she was suffering, but I told myself that it was only proper, given her crimes against nature. Now the sound of her laughter will no longer ring through my palace. I will never again pass by her pouting on the stairs, nor find her sporting with Loric in the gardens, nor watch the light play across her hair as she tends to the soreness of my heels. And I cannot even pray to our God to help her, for he despises her kind.” He inhaled deeply, and his old body shivered. “I will carry this shame to my death. I put my faith in my son instead of my daughter, and he has betrayed me as I betrayed her.” He shuffled from the room, and his heavy tread echoed in the stairwell.

Yorin collapsed into the nearest chair. “Tell me that’s the last of it. These have been the most stressful days of my life. And that includes the week the palace was overrun by beetles.”

Rema sat on the edge of the mattress. Cedrin’s parting words had left her melancholy, and it was impossible to feel any triumph. “So much has happened in such a short space of time. It feels as if I only arrived this morning.”

“Ah, well.” Muhan pulled his mustache to its full length. “It’s like the steam beneath a pot lid. It builds slowly, but when it reaches its limit, how suddenly it bursts.” He released his mustache so that it flicked back into its curl. “In any event, I’m pleased to have played my small part in this performance.”

“You should both stay a day or two more,” said Yorin. “You deserve to rest at least a little. You’d make an excellent steward, Rema. You’ve endured so much, yet you’ve remained in control throughout.”

“We’ll need to stay tomorrow at least, to pack Elise’s belongings,” said Rema. “I want to her to be able to take as many of her possessions as possible.”

“That can be arranged.” Yorin gazed at the moon, which hung full and pensive beyond the tower’s wide window. “It’s the paperwork I’m dreading.”

“As soon as Domyr reaches home, Lyorn will know their victory is lost. Your son will be home sooner than you expect.”

Yorin seemed a decade younger as he smiled. “Perhaps I’ll celebrate your visit by permitting the servant women to wear trousers. Alys will be delighted. She thinks I don’t know she’s been stealing them and trying them on.”

“As for myself,” said Muhan. “It’s been some time since I visited Arann, and there are far worse places to sell dye.”

Delight drove away some of Rema’s malaise. “You’ll come with us? Your company would be very welcome.” Not least because of the corrupt presence of that other companion she had agreed to bring with her. She imagined Bannon skulking aboard ship, smirking at her with his fishlike eyes. Could even Muhan subdue a man who seemed so sure on his feet?

“Well,” said Yorin as he stood. “I’m going to catch my precious few hours of sleep.”

“So you do sleep. I’d been wondering.”

As Yorin and Muhan descended the stairs of the tower, Rema paused in the doorway and looked back into the pale emptiness of Elise’s bedroom. This had been Elise’s home and sanctuary for much of her life, a world that she had fought to build and keep. Now she had resigned herself to losing it, and all for a covert understanding between them, a promise concealed in poetry. Though Elise’s future seemed grim, Rema would remain by her side, loving her and sustaining her through the darkness of her sorrow.

Part Two

Chapter Sixteen

In her youth, Rema had never experienced a sea voyage. She had spent her life traveling across Amantis’s famed expanses, and her feet had been trained for sand and stone, not hardened wood. The ocean had proven a cruel revelation. On her first journey as a junior diplomat, headed to the silk-trade city of Molon, she had failed to keep a single meal in her stomach, and the sailors had laughed about her all the way back to port.

Now, of course, she was as tough as any sea-dog. It had been a fortnight since the coast of Danosha had vanished from sight, and her spirits remained high. As a rule, she never wore her uniform when at sea, preferring loose garments—pantaloons, harem garb, anything that might allow the cool breeze to rest between the fabric and her slender body.

She stood on deck, her hands placed upon the sun-warmed timber of a wooden rail. The great waters around her reflected the glare of the afternoon sun, but the limitless clasp of sea and sky was nonetheless beautiful to behold.

A measured step rang out against the planks. Rema knew without turning that it would be her princess-prisoner; the sailors thudded and clattered, Muhan always walked while humming, and Bannon—well, that creature crept without sound.

“I hate the smell of the sea,” said Elise in Annari. She spoke the language imperfectly, but Rema had impressed upon her the need to polish it. “That briny odor. And the sailors are always bringing those awful nets of fish up from the deeps.”

“They’re merely ensuring that we don’t go hungry.”

“Speak for yourself. With that stink on everything, I can’t eat a bite.” Elise stood beside Rema and squinted at the horizon. “Have you seen any porpoises today?”

Elise’s fickleness was an endless source of amusement to Rema and Muhan both. Seagulls she loathed, sailors she barely tolerated and the captain she thought one of the most abominable people alive. On the first day aboard, he had scolded her for carrying about in skimpy dresses, and she had stridently denounced him as a hypocrite, given that most of his crew worked shirtless. In her fury, she had forced him up against the mast, insulting him while Rema drew upon all her diplomatic reserves not to laugh.

Porpoises, however, she seemed quite fond of. “I saw two yesterday,” Elise said, shading her eyes. “And Muhan tells me he spotted another. He says if I’m vigilant and fortunate, I may someday see a white one.”

“Sailors do tell tales of white porpoises. Though they can never seem to decide whether they’re an ill omen or an augur of good fortune.”

“I’m certain it’s neither. They’re simply beautiful.”

“I suppose you should know, being a sorceress.”

Elise laughed. “Actually, none of my books say a word about porpoises. Apparently wizards pay them very little attention.”

As Elise continued her hunt for porpoises, Rema covertly appreciated Elise’s choice of dress: a red garment slit on either side to the upper thigh, baring Elise’s legs and concealing only her essential modesties. Its low bodice exposed her shoulders and her cleavage, which was a particular source of anxiety to the captain, who believed such an ample bosom posed a risk to his crew. That may or may not have been true, but it was certainly dangerous for Rema.

A sailor stumbled onto deck, and Rema quickly returned her attention to the waves. The seaman crouched, bent his muscular back and began to scrub the tributes of the gulls from the planks. If the crew suspected Rema of paying more attention to Elise than was proper, they gave no indication of it. Muhan, on the other hand, seemed to notice every covert glance, and each time he responded with a low, chiding sound intended only for her ears.

Time to find a new diversion. “How are you this afternoon?” said Rema to the sailor.

“As cheerful as a man can be wrist-deep in birdshit.” The sailor dipped a cloth in a bucket. “I’ll be happier when evening comes. I’ve got a plan to conquer that friend of yours.”

“Oh?” Rema didn’t have to ask who he meant. Muhan had proven a sensation among the crew from the moment he had walked aboard, slapped the mast and declared this to be the finest ship he had ever had the privilege of standing upon. He had further won their admiration through juggling shows, acts of conjuring and his enthusiastic participation in the difficult labor that operated the ship. His chief claim to fame, however, had been his wrestling.

“Aye, it’s a fact. You see, I’ve noted he favors his left side. True, he sometimes conceals this weakness by favoring his right instead, but I think I’ve him figured nonetheless.”

“So the prize is as good as yours?”

“Just you watch, my lady. He’ll hit the deck in under a minute.”

It seemed unlikely. After Muhan had issued his challenge to the crew—that if they could pin him to deck, they would have all the wealth he had accrued in Danosha—there had been no shortage of contenders, yet even the immense first mate had proven incapable of moving the dye merchant from his feet. Because Muhan cannily asked each sailor to stake a few coins before each match, he had only increased the riches on offer, which made the prospect of battle all the more enticing. It was the kind of bold scheme Rema’s mother would have admired.

Rema gestured toward Elise, whose face was sulky as she scoured the waves for her beloved porpoises. “Perhaps you should ask Elise for a token of favor.”

“The captain’s forbidden us to talk to the princess.” The sailor sighed as he plunged the cloth back into the bucket. “But if you’d like to arrange something on my behalf…”

“Believe me, I’m in no position to share any luck. I need all that I have.” Rema nodded. “I’d best not occupy more of your time. Good day, sailor.”

She rejoined Elise, who seemed irritated by the break in conversation. “Why must you avoid me?” she said. “It’s me who should enjoy your talk, not these sweaty brutes.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Elsie. I’m simply trying not to consume your time.”

Elise’s lips moved in the flirtatious, mischievous smile that Rema had come to dread. “I wish you would consume me. I think about it night and day.”

“Elsie!” Rema peeked over her shoulder. Fortunately, the sailor seemed too distant to hear. “You mustn’t talk so candidly around the crew.”

“But there’s crew everywhere. They crawl all over the ship. If you don’t like their presence, come to my cabin and we’ll talk there.”

“You know I can’t do that. Not without cause.”

“You do have a cause, though. And I wore this dress specifically to remind you of it.” Elise slid her hand down her stomach and rested it just above her thighs, fingers suggestively parted. “If you come to my cabin, I’ll remind you in more detail.”

Such performances were Elise’s revenge, and an effective revenge at that. In return for the ignominy of capture, she seemed determined to flirt with Rema at every opportunity. Ordinarily, Rema would have thrilled at the discovery Elise possessed such a carnal mind, but under the circumstances, her lewdness was nothing less than terrifying.

“I recall a timid woman who tried to make me blush by asking questions, only to turn crimson in an instant herself.” Rema frowned at the grinning, unrepentant Elise. “What happened to her, I wonder?”

“She realized she no longer had anything to lose by audacity.” Elise shook her wild hair over her shoulder. “If you aren’t going to help me look for porpoises, and you aren’t going to converse with me, you could at least lighten my day with a smile.”

Rema could hardly deny the request, and when Elise returned the smile in kind, Rema’s anxiety broke in an instant. Though the last two weeks had been stressful, Elise had also proven a perfect companion who never tired of stories of foreign lands, courts and cities. Her deep laughter and husky voice had become quickly beloved to Rema, and whenever Elise listened in her wondering reverie, her face became especially beautiful, lips parted in rapture, eyes more mystical than ever.

“Rema!” Muhan’s voice came from the top step of the staircase that led below decks. He looked resplendent in his colored garments; he had redyed his mustache a vivid yellow, and his eyebrows were stained a startling blue. “May I have your company a moment?”

“Won’t you join us here?” asked Elise. She had grown fond of Muhan, despite an initial aversion to his fakery, as she called it. She admired his wisdom and geniality, and he, in turn, enjoyed her quick temper and incisive questioning.

Muhan shook his head. “It concerns our fellow traveler.”

“Ah!” Elise reacted as if somebody had touched her with a wet fish. She despised Bannon to the point she refused to even acknowledge his presence, and Rema could hardly blame her. “Then go on with you, Rema. I’ll tell you if I see anything interesting.”