66. Men Must Be Seen

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Marezhka grew up chasing Ondrey around the sparring yard. First, with a stick in her hand. Then with a practice sword. Next came a Safic pirate's saber. There also was a three-pronged monstrosity from Dahasoor, butterfly daggers and a pike capable of impaling a horse. In this respect, she didn't take after Ondrey and me. We both loved axes more than any other weapon. However, the three of us understood each-other well enough.

Xenophonta, on the other hand, fainted at the sight of blood. She scratched runes in the road dust while her sister sparred. There was no better place for her to apply herself than in the library. Tonight she proved it yet again.

The library had narrow windows between oak cupboards, full of leather-bound books. Pipes for air circulation and heating preserved the parchments, linen and paper from the weather. Three green-eyed, spot-marked cats guarded them against vermin.

On the wide table in the middle of the room, Xenophonta set out her research on Idezza. One of the three cats dozed off next to the Ashanti-fueled lantern, his tail twitching between the inkwells. Miraculously, he did not dip it in the ink so far, but I guessed it was only a matter of time. The other two chatted in mournful meows about Ondrey's departure.

I shooed the felines away and set up the vision lantern. For a while, I rotated it this way and that, until the enchanted portraits of the Idezza's potentates went to the left side of the lantern, and the Tigress and her lieutenants—opposite to them. The Imperial side was as formidable as the Idezza's was mundane, but I couldn't help it. I studied the Duke's portrait first.

The first handsome flash of youth had gone from the Duke of Idezza's features. Maybe it had to do with him not being wed yet. Maybe the hardships of managing a task that should have been his sister's aged him fast. Whatever the case, a fold was sharpening between his nose and his mouth and the crow feet started at the corner of each eye. The lines were faint.

He kept his gaze modestly downcast on the portrait, teasing my curiosity. I wished to see these dark-fringed eyelids lift, so he would look directly at me. In the Patchwork Courts one found the most unexpected eye-colors, thanks to the many centuries of trade and wars. More importantly, I wanted to know if they were already tired, or held on to that wonderful sparkle men acquire in their adolescence and lose so fast.

Let's find out! I lit the sticks coated with the Ashanti paste and inhaled its mauve fumes. They curled up, their cloying fragrance so sweet that it could only be poison. The portraits came alive on the sides of the lantern, a slight ripple at first, then the figures moved.

I saw.

***

The Duke spoke to the citizens of Idezza, gathered on a piazza bordered by a colonnade. The masonry was a warm brown shade, speckled with golden mica. A massive temple dominated the skyline behind the columns. Only a vulgar excess of money would make a nation erect this squat, gilded monstrosity next to the graceful columns of their ancestors.

Idezza was rich, and wanted the world to notice its wealth. The Tigress obviously did. Not precisely the kind of attention Idezza's Council of Crones had hoped for. Now they stood on the second floor gallery of the temple, all seven of them. They covered themselves in gold and jewels from tiaras on their heads to rings on their toes. This was the only way they could stand out against the background. All these baubles must have cost at least half-a-million shekels, so it boded well for my potential contract.

"You speak wisely, Illumined Graces," the Duke of Idezza was saying while I appraised the crones' jewelry. He even shielded his eyes against the dazzle. "It's unseemly for a man to address you. I have the natural weaknesses of my sex."

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