Froi kept an eye on Quintana, who seemed to gravitate towards the hounds, her eyes begging Gargarin for one of their young.
‘No!’ Gargarin said.
Who would have thought their savage cat was soft for puppies?
It made Froi smile, despite the fact that arrows had been pointed at him from the moment they arrived. Gargarin stood beside him looking straight up to where a group of De Lancey’s men were hiding.
‘You were mocking me,’ Froi said.
‘Not quite,’ Gargarin chuckled. ‘One doesn’t exactly have to have a wall surrounding them to be a firm believer in protection. The city is trained to go to ground within minutes of an army approaching. They’ve had drills ever since I can remember.’
Froi was irritated.
‘So how observant are you?’ Gargarin asked.
‘Very. It’s what I’m trained to be.’ Froi paused and looked around, before exchanging a glance with Gargarin. ‘Four behind the first rock shrine we passed and two on the rooftops of the house with red gables. Another two on the balconette of the inn with the image of the boar on the front. They make as though they are playing cards, but they throw down their hand too quickly.’ He turned and pointed up to a grand house above the piazza. ‘Most are up there, at every level and every window. Probably De Lancey’s residence. There are at least six in this square.’
Gargarin nodded. His expression showed appreciation.
A moment later, Froi was flat on his face with four of De Lancey’s Guard searching him.
‘It seems they still haven’t got over the incident in the godshouse hallway,’ Arjuro said, crouching to his level. Quintana was there as well.
The guards dragged Froi to his feet and wordlessly removed his short sword from its scabbard on his back and the daggers from his sleeves.
‘What did you do to them in the godshouse hallway?’ Quintana asked. The guards didn’t seem interested in the others and Froi knew this was personal.
‘He showed them a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat,’ Lirah said. ‘Just before he stood on the piece of granite over the gravina and bargained for Gargarin’s life. While they stood around looking stupid.’ She was angry. ‘He’s bleeding, you fools.’
‘Bargained with what?’ Quintana asked.
‘A ruby ring given to him by his queen,’ Arjuro said as De Lancey’s men shoved Froi forward towards a narrow path that led them to an even higher level of the city.
‘Your queen gave you a ruby ring?’ he heard Quintana ask coldly.
Froi grabbed her hand and gently placed her between himself and one of the Guard. She twisted away, almost breaking his fingers. De Lancey’s men allowed her to step away.
‘You’re leaving her unprotected, you fools,’ Froi said. He shoved away from them and grabbed Quintana roughly by the wrist, pulling her back into the confines of his protection.
‘Now you can pretend you have some control over this situation,’ he told the men pleasantly, only too aware that the true danger lay in Quintana’s fury.
‘Is that what she bribed you with to assassinate me?’ she asked, trying to pull away. This time the guards had the good sense to keep her close.
‘I thought we were finished with the talk of assassination,’ Froi said, his voice weary.
‘Is she your lover?’ she demanded.
They reached a gate and walked into a courtyard with more guards. Surrounding them was a cluster of pristine white dwellings. De Lancey came out onto the balcony of the largest dwelling, holding a lantern in his hand. He stared down at them with irritated dismay.
Grijio’s head appeared beside his father’s. Then they both disappeared and it was a few minutes before they walked out into the courtyard. As usual, De Lancey was impeccably dressed in loose white trousers and a cambric shirt. De Lancey embraced Gargarin and barely acknowledged the rest except for Quintana. His eyes went straight to her belly.
‘Is it true?’ he asked gently.
‘True indeed,’ Gargarin said.
Grijio let out a breath that he seemed to have been holding.
Gargarin grabbed two of De Lancey’s men by the back of their necks and forced them to face Froi. ‘He protects the Princess and you protect him. Does that sound like an order?’
There was nothing sinister about the mood between the Provincaro and his men and they walked away.
‘My swords!’ Froi called out. One of the guards returned his weapons, taking a moment to study the craftsmanship of the short sword.
‘I’ll let you play with it if you’re nice,’ Froi mocked.
It was tense after the guard left. Grijio dared to break the silence, but he chose the wrong person to address.
‘How long has it been, Sir, since you returned to Paladozza?’ he asked Arjuro politely.
‘Nineteen years.’
‘Why so long, Sir?’
‘Because the memory of a farrier whose head was sliced clean from his body kept me away,’ he snarled.
Froi saw De Lancey freeze and Grijio flinch. A look of great pain and remorse passed between father and son. Had they spoken of the part De Lancey played in an innocent man’s death?
‘Come inside,’ De Lancey muttered to Gargarin. ‘I don’t want to kill him in front of my people. They’re not used to the sight of blood.’
They followed De Lancey and Grijio up a flight of stairs that took them into a hall, overwhelming in its beauty. Frescoes of every creation story Froi had ever heard from this land and those of the lands said to be across the great oceans adorned the wall. He even recognised that of Lumatere’s, a luminous goddess emerging from the earth.
De Lancey took them to a dining room where a long table was set up for three.
‘Another five places, Jatta,’ he called out.
There was silent awkwardness again and Grijio held out a hand to Quintana.
‘Would you like to see the songbirds I once wrote to you about?’ he asked.
She hesitated, looking around the room, squinting.
‘Perhaps you can bring the cage in here, Grij?’ De Lancey said.
‘You’ll love them,’ Grijio promised, running out of the room.
De Lancey removed five glasses from a tray. ‘My son –’
‘His son,’ Arjuro mocked under his breath.
De Lancey stared at him, decanter in hand.
‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ De Lancey asked.
Gargarin stood and limped towards the Provincaro. ‘Perhaps I should take over here, De Lancey.’
‘No. I want to know what he meant by that,’ De Lancey said.
Froi stared at Arjuro. He looked so strange and out of place with his dark robes in this pristine room.
‘Your boy out there?’ Arjuro shook his head with disbelief. ‘You disappoint me, De Lancey. We always mocked those fools of men who needed young flesh beneath their body to make them feel powerful.’
Gargarin removed the decanter of wine from De Lancey’s hand.
‘How dare you? My son –’
‘Your son? You have no son,’ Arjuro shouted. ‘Why the pretence? Eighteen years ago, you had no bride. Yet you have a young lover –’
Gargarin wasn’t quick enough to save the glasses. De Lancey dived across the table and grabbed Arjuro around the throat just as the glass hit the ground and shattered. It took Froi and De Lancey’s men and even Lirah and Jatta the serving woman to pull them apart.
Grijio raced in holding a cage of lovebirds, only to see his father being held back.
‘What did he say to rile you so?’ Grijio asked his father, putting the cage aside.
De Lancey adjusted his clothing and was full of decorum once more.
‘He accused De Lancey of taking you as a lover,’ Quintana said calmly.