Night lamps burned along the upstairs corridors, as well. Shoes set out for cleaning along the upper corridor showed him which rooms were occupied-five in all. Avoiding those rooms, he discovered a huge library and a large, mostly empty room that served for sword practice, judging by the various styles of blades in racks on the walls.
At the far end of the corridor he at last found what appeared to be a man’s study. It was rather small and by far the coziest room yet, with a pretty fireplace and a jumble of books, scrolls, and male bric-a-brac on the shelves that lined the room. It was tempting to take some small item as a present for Seregil, but he didn’t want to chance leaving the slightest sign of his visit.
The writing desk under the window overlooked the top of the garden wall and the side of the neighboring house. He took out his lightstone and fitted a leather cone around it to shield it from anyone happening in. Rifling the locked correspondence box first, he found a half-finished letter. As he read it his eyebrows arched in dismay.
There was no signature, but comparing it with other letters in the box, it appeared to be in Laneus’s hand. He debated taking it, then decided against it and instead copied the letter out. His script was far less elegant and clear than Seregil’s and he blotted a few places in his haste, but it was soon finished. There was also a sealed letter addressed to General Sarien.
Alec carefully pried the seal loose. The letter was wrapped in the sheet with the general’s name on it. The letter itself had no date or salutation, just a few lines in Laneus’s bold script.
Seven more to the cause. Will bring them to our next meeting. Must have assurances of your men soon.
There was nothing overtly damning in it, but knowing what he did and whom it was addressing, it wasn’t too difficult to guess what was really being said.
Seven more-
This bore out their concern that arresting the principal players would cause the unknown followers to scatter.
He rubbed the bottom of the sealing wax with his thumb to soften it, then stuck it back down and turned his attention to the desk, and then the room. Try as he might, however, he couldn’t find any secret caches of papers, though he searched every available surface except the ceiling and wiggled anything he could lay hands on, looking for a trigger for a secret space, or a passageway like the one Seregil had found at Kyrin’s house. Nothing.
At Eirual’s brothel, Seregil found the lady in question still in her dressing room. The little chamber was filled with the sweet fragrances of expensive perfumes and powders. She was admiring herself in a long mirror as her maidservant adjusted the folds of Eirual’s pale green silk gown. Several pairs of fancy shoes were lined up for inspection in front of the wardrobe.
“You’re just in time, my love!” the courtesan greeted him, smiling at Seregil in the mirror. Lifting two ornately woven jeweled necklaces from a casket on the dressing table, she turned and held them up for him to judge. “Pearls or the peridots?”
Seregil struck a thoughtful pose. “Pearls, I think. They look so cool and inviting against your skin.”
“Pearls it is.” She handed the necklace to Seregil and lifted her black ringlets from her neck.
Seregil dutifully fastened the heavy strands and brushed his fingertips playfully down her nape. “Hmmm, yes. Most inviting.”
She turned and kissed him on the cheek. “Such a tease. I do miss you, you know. You were always one of my favorites.” She noticed the black armband he wore as she reached for one of the pearl hairpins on the dressing table. Her coquettish smile faded. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Nor I.”
Eirual shook her head as if repelling sadness and began decorating her elaborately braided hair with pearl hairpins. “And where is the fair Alec? Still downstairs?”
“No, he’s not well tonight. I’ll be escorting both you lovelies myself, and will be the envy of all who see me.”
“You always are, I suspect.”
Myrhichia hurried in with a white silk girdle embroidered with pearls. “I thought you might want this,” she said, draping it around the older woman’s shapely hips. “What do you think, Seregil?”
“Perfect! The pair of you are a vision of loveliness not to be outdone by all the titled heads of Rhiminee.” Indeed Myrhichia looked as beautiful as her benefactress in midnight-blue silk stitched with crystal beads, and matching hairpins glittering in her dark hair. “You look like the night sky in Bokthersa, full of stars and mystery,” he told her, kissing her cheek.
“But where is Alec?”
“Indisposed, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, and I was so looking forward to teasing him a bit!”
When the women had completed their adornments to their mutual satisfaction, the three of them strolled arm-in-arm to the Red Hart, glittering among the evening crowd and drawing admiring glances from many they passed. At the elegant tavern the master of the house escorted them to the private room Seregil had reserved for the evening.
Laneus, Malthus, and their ladies soon joined them, and introductions were made all around. Malthus and Ania knew the two courtesans, and greeted them warmly, as did Laneus and his young wife. Eona seemed particularly thrilled to meet the famous Eirual.
They dined on poached butterfly fish, jellied eel, raw oysters, warm sesame bread, dishes of olives and pickled vegetables, and a rare Mycenian white wine of excellent prewar vintage.
The courtesans were charming as always, and Seregil could see Eirual’s tutelage in Myrhichia’s sparkling conversation, and her knowledge of current events and politics. She
and Laneus had a spirited debate over the tax on gemstones, and ended the argument with laughter.
Seregil watched the two men with veiled interest; both gave every indication of being delighted to dine with him, and their ladies expressed great concern over Alec’s supposed fever. His wound was remarked upon and Laneus’s shock at the story of how Seregil and Alec had been waylaid by assassins seemed quite genuine, but perhaps not as violent as Malthus’s, who went white to the lips and stole a glance at Laneus as Seregil elaborated.
“By the Light, he might have taken your head off!” Duchess Ania exclaimed.
“If the bluecoats hadn’t come along and chased them off, he probably would have!” Seregil told her. “Of course, all I could think of was Alec, but he was much better at fighting his man off, though he cut his hand quite badly.”
“You didn’t tell me that! I hope that’s not the source of his fever,” Myrhichia exclaimed, fanning herself in agitation. “Blood poisoning is a serious ailment. I lost an uncle to it, and he’d only pricked his finger on a rusty arrowhead.”
“Brother Valerius saw to it personally,” Seregil assured her. “It’s just a summer fever. He’s been out in the heat too much.”
“Playing with Princess Elani,” Malthus noted with a smile, having recovered. “Or so I hear.”
“By all reports, you two have suddenly been spending a lot of time at court,” said Ania. “It was Duke Reltheus who introduced you, wasn’t it?”
“Actually it was by way of Count Selin,” Seregil replied, popping an olive into his mouth. “He got us admitted to Archduchess Alaya’s salon, and we met the princess royal there. He also introduced us to Duke Reltheus. Quite the gambler, the duke.”
“As are you,” Laneus said. His expression was bland, but Seregil was certain he caught just a hint of double meaning.
After the cakes and sweet wine, Ania and Eona unexpectedly rose to go.
“We’re off to the Swan,” Eona told them, extending her
hands to Eirual and Myrhichia. “Won’t you come gamble with us, ladies, and we’ll leave the men to their boring talk?”
“Go on,” Seregil said with a laugh. “Who am I to stand in the way of a woman’s pleasure?”
“I can vouch for that,” Eirual laughed, taking Eona’s hand.
Seregil felt strangely outnumbered when the women were gone, though he hardly expected the two men to attack him. They sipped their wine and made small talk about horses and tailors for some time, then Laneus struck.