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."
Weak the Duke might have called himself, yet he held on to the guardianship of his younger sister, Soffika, for three years. Once in a while, men attained high positions, but it rarely lasted long. The first whiff of the Southern Empire's threat should have sent Idezza clamoring for one of the women on this terrace to take the reins. Why was he still in charge?
He threw his arms up in an apologetic gesture. Parneres used to do similar moves on stage. Duke's eyes seemed similar to Parneres' as well. Liquid black of the midnight rivers. Not tired of life yet. Nor sad. But neither their gaze seemed amused. His complexion was the same deep brown color of the local stone, probably just as warm to touch. The jawline could have been lighter, and forehead—higher, but he was svelte, with a good posture.
"Alas! Grief occupied my mother, the Duchess, so much that she didn't select a wife to protect me." A pleading note crept into the Duke's voice, but I sensed a falsehood. Judging by the matrons' faces, there were reasons for his bachelorhood beyond his mother's mourning. One of their daughters would have made an ideal bride. Why didn't any of these women make an offer for him to the Duchess? Was he impotent? Fathered a son outside the wedlock? What was wrong with him?
He held a tragic pause while he pretended to reflect on his solitude. His head lowered, a cascade of silky curls spilling over the lace collar. Whatever kept him from the nuptials, it wasn't his appearance. Alas, his sister was less fortunate. She was motionless till this moment, pressed to the Duke's side. She had to stretch to tug on his sleeve, for the rightful heiress to Idezza's title had a stunted figure of a dwarf.
The Duke put a calming hand on top of the girl's head. She went back to clinging to his hip, while he took in a chest-full of air.
"Now the task to select a wife for me falls to you, Wise Matrons," he implored the crones above the crowd. "But we cannot decide it in a day. Particularly not now. The situation is dire. The Tigress is on the march. Already she took the mines of Sharomma and the crossroads at Var!"
I applauded the ease with which the Duke steered away from the delicate subject of his marriage.
"From Var it's a short distance to Maneda down the Old Road," said the matron with an aquiline nose that made her look more predatory than the rest of the Seven Crones.
"She could turn to Maneda, Baroness Ornatti, yes." The Duke looked more relaxed now, as if the perils of a foreign invasion was more pleasant to discuss than his marriage. "But she must also want to line her pockets with gold to feed her elephants and her soldiers. She would look to us to provide it."
Smart boy! I clicked my tongue in approval. That's what I would have done if I were in the Tigress' shoes. Yes, the jungle grew thick between Var and Idezza, the roads threading them ran narrow and the rivers were full of treacherous rapids. However, Idezza was a pomegranate too ripe not to pluck, particularly with its succession in question. The fattest fish hides in the muddiest waters.
"Illumined Graces, your daughters' wisdom and talents matter naught to the Empire in the South and the Tigress. She's collecting the Courts together like beads on a string to make her own domain. She'll take Idezza from under us as well, unless we stand united. Even if it means to support a man for the time being—just for the time being—until the danger has passed!"
Again, I nodded along. Burandock the Young Tigress was hungry for her own domain. The Patchwork Courts with their miniscule garrisons and even smaller politicking would tempt a lesser woman. They begged to be brought to heel by someone mighty.
"Do you propose that we can beat the Tigress, the One Who Tames the Elephants, Nirav? You, a man?" asked the owner of the aquiline features—Baroness Ornatti, according to Xenophonta's notes.
Nirav was a pretty name, but the way the Baroness threw it at him, caused the Duke to flinch.
I pulled in a lungful of Ashanti smoke. It was a dangerous thing to do, but I had to see his answer. The vision sharpened, moved towards me, bringing the Duke closer and closer.
The flinch was minute, but I understood. The clever boy had no intention to marry for as long as he could get away with it. He loved his title, however temporary and illegal. He managed to string along the Crones for three years, but the Tigress would take it from him. That's why prolonging the agony of the Courts' existence was his heart's passion. That's why it was paramount to him to infect Idezza with a patriotic pride.
"Ah," the Duke said playfully. "Of course, I can't beat the Tigress on the battlefield!"
"Then..." The Baroness drummed the fingers banded with at least thirty rings on the railing. The gemstones sent rainbows of reflections. "Then thank you, Nirav, for your thoughts."
The seven matrons pushed to their feet, thinking the farce was over and they could now discuss the important matters. They would argue about whose daughter should rule, pray that the Tigress goes to Maneda and what terms to beg for, if she shows up by their walls.
The Duke raised his voice. He controlled its pitch so well that even those squeezed into the farthest corners of the piazza could hear him.
"I can't! But She Who Kills the Elephants can!"
The crowd stirred at the mention of my moniker. Ever since Bhar, they called me this. Drugged by the Ashanti fumes, I laughed like a hyena in heat. Did the Duke think a sapphire necklace and flattery was enough to buy a Commander of the Deadhead Company, the best in the land, to stand between him and the inevitable? Even when she was disgraced and almost retired... He would have to offer me more, far more.
Baroness Ornatti's bronzed features were a study in derision. "You invited a mercenary, Nirav?"
She caught herself before admitting that not only he did so, but he did it behind her jewel-encrusted back and those of her coven.
Her rail-thin neighbor hurried to gloss over the revelation. "War is the lowest form of peace," she said primly.
"It is, Illumined Grace, it is." The Duke's shining eyes betrayed him just before he abandoned the humble stanza and shouted directly to the crowd. "But Idezza is worth fighting for! We are worth fighting for! Let's keep our city out of the Southern Tigress' claws!"
His eyes would have shamed coals teased by the wind. They would be lovelier when darkened by the bedroom passion rather than brightened by ambition.
The precious incense sticks went out in the jar of rose water. However, I had no need to poison myself with its magic fumes any further. I had seen enough of Idezza and Duke Nirav.
I paced between the bookshelves, the cats shadowing me like evil Bhutas. I could have sworn I heard a distant rumble of Fate's drums. Louder and louder they pounded in my ears and my heart pounded even faster. Yes, yes, I shall fight Burandok. I'll allow this sweet Duke to empty Idezza's treasury to pay me for doing so. The Knowable World wasn't perfect, but this morning it came close enough. And it hadn't heard the last of Ismar yet!