"Just happy, that's all. Happy because a've found ma true love."
"Love!" she snorted.
"Couldn't you feel a little love for me? I'm head over heels in love with you, wench. And you did give me your all, as they say."
"Rubbish! The fact that I needed to be well frittered after long deprivation has nought to do with love."
"But, darling—"
"Darling me no darlings! I'm not the woman for you. I am just a drunken slut with a hot cleft, and forget it not."
"Oh," he said, his exalted mood punctured.
"Get me to a city and buy me some decent clothes, and then if you want to talk of love, I don't suppose I can stop you."
Jorian sighed, and his broad shoulders dropped. "You're nobody's sweet little innocent honey-bun, I will grant. I'm a bigger fool for loving you than Doctor Karadur was in trusting Rhithos. But there it is, damn it. Let's say a prayer to Thio and go."
Chapter Three
THE SILVER DRAGON
RHUYS'S TAVERN, THE SILVER DRAGON, STOOD JUST OFF THE main square of Othomae City, behind the Guildhall. The main taproom accommodated six tables, each flanked by a pair of benches, while to one side a pair of curtained alcoves served as private rooms for patrons of quality. Facing the entrance was Rhuys's bar: a counter with four large holes in the marble top, each closed by a circular wooden lid with a handle. Below each hole hung a cask of one of the cheaper beverages: beer, ale, white wine, and red wine, each with its own dipper. Choicer drinkables stood in a row in bottles on a shelf behind the taverner.
To the left of the bar, as one entered, was the door to the kitchen; Rhuys would have his wife cook dinner for patrons who ordered in advance. To the right were the stairs leading up to the dormitory and the three private bedrooms that the tavern rented. Rhuys himself occupied the fourth. Several oil lamps shed a soft yellow light about the room.
Although he bore the same name as a former king of Xylar, known as Rhuys the Ugly, Rhuys the taverner was not really ugly. He was a small, wiry, seedy-looking man, with thinning, graying hair and pouched eyes. He leant his elbows on the bar and watched his few customers. There were only five, for the morrow was a working day and few Othomaeans were out late that night In addition, a huge, gross, porcine man sprawled in a corner.
The door opened, and Jorian and Vanora came in. Jorian, looking worn from his fiftnight's hike from Rhithos's house, approached the counter.
"Good even," he said. "I am Nikko of Kortoli. Has a Doctor Ma— Mabahandula left word for me?"
"Why, yes, so he has," said Rhuys. "He was in today, saving he'd be here right after the supper hour; but he has not come."
"Then we'll wait. We have given our ass in charge of your boy in the back."
"What will you have?"
"Ale for me." Jorian looked a question at Vanora, who said:
"Red wine for me."
"Have you aught to eat?" said Jorian. "We've come a long way."
"Plenty of bread, cheese, and apples. The fire is out, so we cannot cook a hot repast for you."
"Bread, cheese and apples will do fine." Jorian turned away to lead Vanora to one of the tables.
"Master Nikko!" called Rhuys. "Have you a permit to carry that hanger?" He indicated Jorian's sword, the hilt of which was now attached to the scabbard by a wire. The ends of the wire were crimped together by a small leaden seal bearing the two-headed eagle of Othomae.
"They gave me one at the city gate," said Jorian, waving a piece of reed paper. "I'm a traveler on his way to Vindium."
Of the other customers, two men were drinking and arguing in low tones. Jorian and Vanora leisurely ate and drank. Other customers came and went, but the pair in the corner continued their dispute.
Long after Jorian and Vanora had finished their supper, the other pair were still at it. One of these men raised his voice in anger. Presently he stood up, leaned over the bench, shook his fist, and shouted:
"You son of a eunuch, you will cheat me of my commission, will you? Any man who so entreats me has cause to rue his deed! I have warned you for the last time! Now will you pay me my share, or—"
"Putter you," said the seated man.
With a shrill squawk, the standing man hurled the contents of his mug in the other's face. Sputtering, the other man tried to rise and reach for his dagger, but his robe had become entangled with the bench. While he struggled and the standing man screamed threats and denunciations, the huge, stout man in the corner caught Rhuys's eye. Rhuys nodded. The stout man lumbered to his feet, took three steps, picked the standing man up bodily by the slack of his garments, strode to the door, and tossed the man into the street. Brushing his hands together, he returned to his seat without a word.
Vanora gave the stout man a long look as she said to Jorian: "I wonder they did not notice the Grand Bastard's name on your sw—"
"Hush! Don't mention that. When I get a chance, I'll have it filed off."
She waved to Rhuys to refill her glass, asking Jorian: "What is this title of Grand Bastard? It does not sound like a real title. I've heard of the Grand Duke and the Grand Bastard, but none has ever explained it to me. Which rules Othomae?"
"They are co-rulers. According to Othomaean custom, the eldest legitimate son of the late Grand Duke becomes the new Grand Duke and hereditary ruler of the kingdom in civil affairs, whilst the eldest illegitimate son of that same late Grand Duke becomes the Grand Bastard and hereditary commander-in-chief of the army. Since the Othomaeans set great store by legitimacy, the Grand Bastard knows that 'twould avail him nought to try to seize the civil power, for none would then obey him."
"What a curious way to run a country!"
"The Othomaeans set it up long ago, so that no one ruler should become too powerful and oppress his subjects. Now, Vanora, you are not going to get drunk again, I hope?"
"I'll drink what I please. How are you going to steal this Kist in Trimandilam?"
"That's for Karadur and me to decide when we get there. The plan for the nonce is for me to make up to the serpent princess."
"Serpent princess? What's that?"
"An immortal—or at least monstrously long-lived—being who is a luscious princess by day and a gigantic serpent by night. Karadur tells me she has the disconcerting habit of changing shape and devouring the poor wight who has just been making love to her, as I shall have to do."
She banged her mug on the table. "You mean, after giving me sweet talk of love all the way from Rhithos' house, you knew all the time you were going to try to seduce this—this snake-woman?"
"Please! I have no choice in the matter—"
"You're just another lying prick-hound! I should have known better than to listen to you. Farewell!" She started to rise.
"My dear girl, what in the name of Zevatas's horse is there to get so excited about? Surely you do not make an idol of chastity—"
Furiously, she replied: "I should not much have minded your frittering a proper human dame; but a snake! Ugh! Goodbye! That looks like the kind of man I understand!"
She staggered over to where the stout man sprawled and sat down beside him. The man's little, piggy eyes opened, and his thick lips wreathed themselves in a smile through his stubble. Jorian followed her, saying:
"Pray, Vanora, be reasonable!"
"Oh, hold your tongue! You bore me." She turned to the ejector. "What's your name, big man?"
"Huh? My name?"
"Aye, handsome! Your name."
"Boso son of Trüs. Is this fellow bothering you?"
"He won't if he knows what is good for him."
"Who are you, fellow?" growled Boso at Jorian.