“I only meant it would be inconvenient to find replacements for you,” Thero replied, but there was a hint of humor in his eyes that hadn’t been there a few years earlier.
“By the way, when are you coming to the theater with us?” Seregil asked. It was becoming a bit of a game, trying to lure the wizard out to do something he clearly had no interest in doing. “We’ll stand you a good supper and the gambling houses afterward.”
Thero gave him a long-suffering look. “Don’t you have someone to burgle?”
“We’re dining with Kylith and her niece, Ysmay, at Wheel Street first, in celebration of my name day. At least join us for supper.”
When Thero hesitated, Alec wheedled, “Grilled eel and leeks, spiced bluefish in jelly, poached pears with rosemary syrup, cakes…”
“Your cook’s grilled eel? And her cakes?” Thero grinned. “For that, I’ll come.”
Kylith and Ysmay arrived first and coaxed Alec into a show of archery while they waited for Thero. The wizard soon followed, and they sat down in the cool garden to enjoy the fragrant repast. Seregil poured the wine freely but he and Alec took little themselves, needing their wits about them for the night’s real work.
Ysmay, a very pretty blond, flirted determinedly with Thero, but the wizard appeared oblivious while the others chatted about horses and hunting.
“Do wizards hunt?” Ysmay asked.
“Some do,” Thero replied, helping himself to more eel. “I did, growing up, with my father and brothers, but since putting on robes I really haven’t had the time or inclination.”
“He’d rather putter about in his tower,” Alec teased. “We go by and dust him once a week.”
“Well, I’m glad to have the chance to see you tonight,” Ysmay said warmly. “Tell me, why are wizards celibate?”
“Not all of us are,” Thero replied, keeping his attention on cutting up his eel. “Those who are think it increases their magic to withhold from spending energy on the pleasures of the flesh.”
“Nysander certainly didn’t agree with that,” Seregil said with a chuckle. “He was quiet about it, but he had quite a string of lovers.”
“I always wondered about him and Magyana,” said Kylith.
“Friends of the heart, but not the flesh,” Seregil explained. “But I think she was his true love.”
“You believe in true love!” Ysmay exclaimed, delighted, glancing Alec’s way.
Seregil pressed a hand to his heart and declaimed with
mock-solemnity, “Dear lady, it’s the only thing that makes life worth living!”
“Oh, you should be on the stage, my lord,” said Ysmay, flirting a bit with him now.
“He had his chance,” Kylith told her. “Atre offered him a place in his company.”
“I’d like to see that! You’re every bit as handsome as he is.”
Seregil inclined his head modestly. “You flatter me. I doubt most of the women of Rhiminee would agree with you.”
“Most, indeed!” Kylith noted with a slight frown. “Since you and I established him in style, he seems to be in a different bed every night. I’m rather piqued about that, and considering withdrawing my patronage. There are certainly enough others who’d put up with him.”
“You’d do that?” asked Alec.
“I most certainly will. I told him as much the other night, when he refused my invitation to dinner. Of course, he was very apologetic about it, but I heard the next day that he’d been with Duchess Arelia. To be honest, I’m growing a bit tired of him anyway. I think Master Raneus at the Tirari is a bit more convincing-onstage and off.”
Seregil doubted that, but Kylith had her pride and had wrongly assumed she was buying a young lover as well as a theater.
Talk had turned to recent plays at both theaters when Runcer came to the door. “Master Atre is in the salon, my lord. Shall I have him join you?”
Seregil looked to Kylith. “It’s up to you.”
“Oh, please, yes!” Ysmay pleaded.
Kylith sighed. “I have no objection.”
Seregil motioned to Runcer, who escorted the actor into the garden.
“My dear Lady Kylith!” Atre exclaimed, going to her at once to kiss her hand. “How lovely to find all three of my dear patrons here at once.”
Kylith regarded him coolly. “Still only three?”
“You wound me, lady!” Atre gave her an imploring look.
“Come sit by me, you rogue,” Seregil said, laughing. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“Only a bit of mundane business, my lord. Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Then you must join us. There’s still plenty of food. You can help celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“His name day,” Alec told him.
“You honor me, my lords,” Atre replied, taking a seat with obvious pleasure. When Runcer had filled his cup, he lifted it to Seregil. “Long life and good fortune, my lord.”
After seeing Kylith and Ysmay into their carriage later that evening, Seregil turned to Atre with an expectant look.
“My news would be better delivered in private, my lords.”
“Ah, I see. Well, come to the library.” He led the way up and closed the door.
“Someone’s tongue has been wagging?” asked Alec.
“Indeed, my lord,” Atre replied, glancing around the well-appointed room with evident interest. “Tanni and I performed for a small party at Duke Laneus’s house a few days ago. The duke and his friends spoke very highly of Princess Klia. The first toast was to her, rather than the queen.”
“I see. What exactly was said?”
“Several people had letters from her and shared them. It was mostly salutations and details of battles.”
“Who was there?”
“The duke, Duke Malthus, Marquise Lalia, Duke Zymir, General Sarien, and Duchess Nerian.”
“Sarien? Are you certain?” asked Seregil, trying to mask his dismay. General Sarien was the protector general, in command of the City Regiment.
“Of course, my lord,” Atre replied. “A round fellow, and generous with his gifts.” He fingered an ornate silver ring on his right forefinger.
Seregil waved that aside impatiently; everybody in Rhiminee threw their jewels at the actor, it seemed. “Is that all?”
“There was some talk of Princess Klia taking the throne somehow.”
“And they said this in front of you?” asked Alec.
The actor grinned. “No, my lord. They thought I was in the
kitchen with Tanni, having supper. I stole back to the salon and listened by the door.”
Seregil raised an eyebrow. “How clever of you. Have you done that sort of thing before?”
Atre gave a modest shrug. “Now and then.”
“I assume there was also mention made of Lord Alec or myself?”
“You, Lord Seregil. Duke Malthus suggested speaking to you regarding whatever they’d been talking about before I came back, but the others…” He paused, and gave Seregil an apologetic smile. “Duke Laneus said you weren’t influential enough to be of any use, and the others agreed.”
Seregil chuckled at that. “Do you know what they were talking about?”
“Unfortunately not all of it, my lord. As I said, we were sent to the kitchen for a meal-” He made a sour face; clearly the memory of being treated like a common minstrel was distasteful. “But Duke Malthus seemed to be arguing with the others about something.”
“But you don’t know what, except that it might have involved Alec and myself?”
“No, I couldn’t hear what he said clearly.”
“Most interesting. Anything else?”
Atre seemed to hesitate for just an instant before he shook his head. “No, my lord.”
“Well, thank you, and well done.” Seregil reached for his purse without thinking.
“No, my lord. As I said before, you are generous enough with your gold.”
“Ah, that’s right. Now, do I have your word that what you’ve told me goes no farther?”
“I am as constant as the sun, my lords. You have no need for concern. The politics of Skala are no concern of mine.”