So my master wanted to shed still more blood. I might well have killed Young Warrior myself if I had the chance, but I felt a sudden urge to be sick.
I forced myself to think.
“The only person who I know is in contact with him is the merchant’s mother, Lily,” I said. “She was hoping that if she could tell the boy, Nimble, enough about me, her son would be released …”
“He wasn’t. She’s still saying he’s abroad.”
“Then she must still be talking to the boy. I thought that by goingto see her I could offer myself as bait-I could get Young Warrior to come to me.”
“And it worked. He did!”
“Yes-nearly killing me in the process.”
My master’s chair creaked as he sat back, with his eyes closed and the fingers of one hand drumming thoughtfully on his knee.
I had to try to think faster than he could.
It was too much to hope he would let me go anywhere alone: he would assume that I intended to run away the first chance I got. The idea of repeating my attempt to lure Young Warrior out of hiding through Lily obviously appealed to him, but if he had his way I would have an escort of his own choosing-and in all likelihood neither Young Warrior nor I would survive the encounter.
I had to find a way of arranging the meeting so that old Black Feathers could not control the outcome, and I could have some chance of getting away.
“My Lord,” I said slowly, “could the merchants be prevailed upon to hold a banquet?”
He opened his eyes and frowned. “A banquet?”
“If you tell Lily and her father to give one, they will. You are always invited to the merchants’ feasts. I would be in your retinue-and there would be enough of us to catch Young Warrior if he tried anything.” Not to mention, I thought privately, enough other people to enable me to hide in the crowd and make my own escape. It was not much of a plan, but it was all I could come up with.
“A banquet.” A dreamy look came into the Chief Minister’s eyes. “I like it. After all that family’s put me through, I think a good meal is the least they can offer me!”
THIRTEEN SNAKE
1
Thirteen Snake was not the most propitious day for a feast, but it was not bad: the auguries told us it would probably not rain, none of the diners was likely to choke on a turkey bone and the honeyed mushrooms ought to make the guests mellow rather than pugnacious. Certainly, I thought, as a boatman slowly poled us-Lord Feathered and Black, Handy and me-along a canal toward the merchant’s house, the gods were playing their part: the whitewashed walls on either side of us glowed warmly in the setting sun, while above them only the frailest wisps of cloud clung to the mountain tops. It was a beautiful evening.
I thought about the task we were setting out to accomplish. From my master’s point of view, at least, it must have seemed simple enough. We had to find out where Curling Mist-or rather, Young Warrior-was hiding the sorcerers, and we were going to do it in essentially the way I had planned the last time I had been to Lily’s house: by offering me as bait, although this time I would not be alone.
From my point of view it was far from simple. As I had told my brother days before, my troubles would really begin if and when we found the sorcerers, and I had to choose whether to help my master to recover them or to try somehow to get them to the Emperor, knowing that either choice might lead to my death.
I frowned, not at the dilemma that I might have to confront, but at a nagging feeling in the back of my head that something was not right. It had something to do with the relationship between Young Warrior and Shining Light, I decided. I still could not see how my old enemy had got the young merchant so completely in his powerthat he would not only hand over everything his family possessed, but would give himself up as a hostage. I wondered whether there could be another explanation.
Old Black Feathers interrupted my train of thought. He was in a chatty mood. “This will be a good night. I haven’t looked forward to a party so much in years. I might even dance.”
“Who will be there, my Lord?” asked Handy.
My master had chosen the commoner to accompany us to the banquet. I had managed to persuade old Black Feathers that a large armed guard would simply scare our quarry off, besides upsetting the merchants; in any event, I had pointed out, there would be enough warriors among the guests.
During my brief absence Handy seemed to have become a member of the household, running some of the errands that would otherwise have been mine. He had a stolid, reliable air that my master seemed to like. He was not afraid of the steward: although I had been confined to my room since my return and strictly forbidden from going anywhere, he had made a point of seeking me out, despite the Prick’s warning not to come near me. He had been anxious to explain that he had had no idea the steward would come for him the day he found me at his house.
“His Lordship had some message he wanted got to Shining Light, and I’m the only one he trusts to carry them …”
“All right, what happened wasn’t your fault,” I had said absently. “The messages were for Shining Light, then? How did you get them to him?”
“I didn’t give them to him in person. I left them at his house.”
That was convenient, I had thought: it meant Lily was still the only person who was in touch with her son or his kidnappers.
When I had asked Handy what had become of Storm and my brother, he had answered me with a grin. “Don’t worry. Star took care of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“While the steward was occupied with you, she hid them both in the same maize bin.”
That was when I had smiled, for the first time in what had seemed like an age, at the image of Lion spitting husks and oaths as heemerged from a dusty wooden bin, to the sound of Star’s helpless laughter.
“Who will be there?” my master mused. “Oh, everyone. All the chief merchants, of course, the Governor of Tlatelolco, his deputy, and a lot of the high officials-including your brother, Yaotl. They always make a point of inviting the Guardian of the Waterfront.”
I wondered whether my master had any idea how deeply Lion hated him. “Everyone always makes a point of inviting my brother everywhere. He probably hasn’t paid for a meal since he was appointed to his rank, unless he was giving a banquet himself.” I turned to Handy. “Look, all this means is that Lily and Kindly are desperate to repair the damage Shining Light’s done to their family name, not to mention their parish. When the Chief Minister politely suggested holding a feast, even at three days’ notice, they weren’t in a position to argue. They’ve probably lavished their last wealth on it, and the place will still be full of people who are ready to kill them. If you want my advice, don’t eat anything, and drink all the chocolate you can hold to keep yourself alert.”
My master smiled benignly. Either he approved of my advice or he really was looking forward to the evening.
“A shield flower, my Lord. A stick flower, my Lord.”
“Thank you,” the Chief Minister replied graciously, as well he might since the man offering the gifts was no servant but, as was customary at a feast, a seasoned warrior. Holding his tobacco bowl delicately by its rim, my master passed it back to Handy before taking the flowers. The vast yellow sunflower he held in his left hand, like a shield, while the spray of frangipani was known as the “stick flower” because it was taken in the right like a weapon.
“Lovely,” he murmured, sniffing contentedly at the frangipani as he joined the throng in the courtyard.
The veterans ignored Handy and me, looking straight through us at their next honored guests as we hastened in our master’s footsteps.
Lily had filled her house with a scintillating crowd. Gold, jade and amber lip-plugs flashed as their wearers turned to speak to new arrivals. Red, yellow, blue and above all green feathers nodded in time to words spoken in muted, well-bred voices. Capes of every color-blue here, tawny there, carmine there-billowed against each other. These were the great of Tlatelolco, and not a few of Tenochtitlan’s finest as welclass="underline" merchants, able for once to show off their wealth, and warriors, here to remind the merchants that they could take that wealth off them whenever they chose.