Baddara’s servers brought in several courses, pieces of fruit with a creamy sauce for dipping, and bread, cheese, and salted meats. The women and men both drank wine, although Briony suspected from the separate pitchers and the weak character of what was in her cup that the women’s was more heavily watered. Watered or not, the combination of wine and unusual freedom cheered her companions immensely, and although they spoke in low voices there seemed to be a greater than usual amount of joking and giggling between the women, especially Fanu and the other young ones.
Meanwhile, as the courses came and went, men both of Xand and Eion wandered in from the rooms outside to engage in what looked like respectful audiences with Effir dan-Mozan, some clearly seafaring folk, others in the fine robes of merchants or bankers. Briony could see that although Shaso spoke to no one and did his best to be inconspicuous, he was listening carefully. She wondered how Dan-Mozan introduced him—as a relative? A stranger? Another merchant? And she wondered even more at what these men were saying. It was infuriating to have to sit here this way, amid this flock of ignored women, while important things about the state of the kingdom were doubtless being discussed.
If Shaso was paying close attention to the merchant’s conversations, Dan-Mozan’s nephew was not. In fact, Talibo appeared more interested in Briony, watching her with a fixation that unnerved her. At first she did her best to avoid his gaze, looking away whenever she caught him glancing her direction, but after a while the liberty he was taking began to annoy her. He was a child, practically—a handsome, stupid child! What right did he have to stare at her, and even more important, why should she feel compelled to look away? It touched her on the memory of Hendon Tolly humiliating her in front of her own court; it made the old injury sting all over again.
The next time she caught Tal looking at her she stared back coolly until at last it was the youth who looked away, his cheeks darkening with what she hoped was embarrassment or even shame.
Insolent boy. For a moment she found herself angry with everyone in the room, Shaso, Dan-Mozan, Idite, the other women, all of them. She was a princess, an Eddon! Why must she hide and skulk like a criminal? Why should she be grateful to people who were only doing their duty? If the Tollys were the active agents of her misfortune, all those who did not rise up against the usurpers and cast them out of SouthmarchCastle, even these Tuani merchants, were their passive collaborators. They were all guilty!
Now she was the one feeling her face grow hot, and she stared down at her bowl, trying to compose herself. She should enjoy the meal—Baddara’s kitchen was a good one, and many of the dishes were pleasurably unfamiliar— instead of brooding.
She took a deep breath and looked up again, composing herself, and found to her immense irritation that the merchant’s nephew was looking at her again, his expression even more unreadable than before.
Gods curse him, anyway, she thought sourly, blocking him from view with her lifted cup. And curse all men, young or old. And curse the Tollys, of course—curse them a thousand times!
After the meal and their long walk back through town to the hadar, Briony was summoned to talk with Shaso and Effir dan-Mozan. She joined them in the courtyard garden where only a day before she had been trying to stick a real dagger —albeit with its blade wrapped in leather—into Shaso danHeza’s ribs. She thought of the Yisti knives hidden beneath her bed and felt a moment of guilt: Shaso had told her she should keep them with her. She hoped he would not ask to see them.
But where are you supposed to carry knives while wearing such ridiculous clothes—no belts, billowing sleeves...?
Shaso was standing, examining the quince tree as though he were an orchardman, but Effir dan-Mozan levered his small, round body out of his chair to greet her.
“Thank you for joining us, Princess Briony. We learned many things today and we knew you would want to hear as soon as possible what was said.”
“Thank you, Effir.” She looked at Shaso, wondering if he had been less eager to share the information than the merchant was suggesting: he had the look of a man who had eaten something sour.
“First off, a company of soldiers from Southmarch have been asking questions in LandersPort. They do not seem to have learned anything useful, however, and they moved on to other towns a day or two ago, so that will be some relief to you, I think.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” The day’s outing had made her realize how little she liked being out where people could see her, but she also knew she could not hide here in the merchant’s house forever.
“Also,” Dan-Mozan said, “everyone who has come from the south seems to agree that the autarch is pushing forward his shipbuilding at a great pace, which does make it seem as though he plans an attack on Hierosol. Most of the other nations in Xand are already pacified, and the strongest of those which resist him are in the mountainous regions to the south. There would be little use of a great navy there.”
“But Hierosol...that is where my father is prisoner!”
“Of course, Highness.” Dan-Mozan bowed as though acknowledging a sad but immutable fact, some ancient tragedy. “Still, I do not think you should be overly worried. Autarch Sulepis, even if he can put three hundred warships in the water, will not be able to overcome Hierosol.”
“Why do you say that?” She wanted to believe it. It was horrid to think of being stuck here with Hierosol coming under attack. Foolish and probably fatal as it would be, it was all she could do these days not to steal a few days’ worth of food and sneak out of the house, heading southward.
“Because the walls of Hierosol are the strongest defense on either of the two continents. No one has ever conquered them by force, not in almost two thousand years. And the Hierosolines have a mighty fleet of their own.”
“But for all that, Hieorsol has been conquered several times,” growled Shaso, who had been silent until now, staring at the barren tree as though he had never seen anything so fascinating. “By treachery, usually. And Sulepis has made more than a few of his conquests that way—have you forgotten Talleno and Ulos?”
Effir dan-Mozan smiled and waved his hand as though swatting away the smallest of flying insects. “No, and Ludis Drakava has not forgotten either, I promise you. Remember, his followers can have no illusions about what comes in the wake of one of the autarch’s triumphs. The Ulosians who turned to Xis did not have that knowledge and they paid dearly for it. Recall that Ludis and his men are interlopers, with no power except that which they hold in the great city itself. Not one of the lord protector’s followers will believe he can make himself a better deal with Sulepis.”
“Yes, but there are many that Ludis displaced, the old nobility of Hierosol, who might think precisely that.”
Again the merchant waved a dismissive hand. “We will bore Princess Briony with this talk. She wants assurances and we give her debate.” He turned his sharp gaze onto her. “You have my word, Highness. As the oracles teach us, only a fool says ’Forever,’ but I promise you that the autarch will not take Hierosol this year or even next year. There is time enough to get your father back.”