Nyphron Rising Page 12

  "You weren't kidding about serving in a lot of armies, were you?" Arista asked.

  Hadrian shrugged. "I was a mercenary. It's what I did. I served anywhere the pay was good." Hadrian took his seat back at the table. "I even commanded a few regiments. Got a medal once. But I would fight for one army only to find myself going against them a few years later. Killing old friends isn't fun. So I kept taking jobs farther away. Ended up deep in Calis fighting for Tenkin Warlords." Hadrian shook his head. "Guess you could say that was my low point. You really know you've—"

  Hadrian was interrupted by a knock. Without a word, Royce crossed the room taking up position on one side of door while Hadrian carefully opened it. Outside a young boy stood dressed in the typical poor clothing of a waif.

  "Evening, sirs. Your presence is requested in room twenty-three," he said cheerily, then touching his thumb to his brow he walked away.

  "Leave her here?" Hadrian asked Royce.

  Royce shook his head. "She comes along."

  "Must you speak about me as if I'm not in the room?" Arista asked, but only with feigned irritation. She sensed the seriousness of the situation from the look on Royce's face and was not about to interfere. She was behind enemy lines. If caught, it was not certain what would happen. If she tried to claim a diplomatic status, it was doubtful the Empire would honor it. Ransoming Arista for Alric's compliance was not out of the question—nor was a public execution.

  "We're just going to walk in?" Hadrian asked, skeptically.

  "Yes, we need their help and when one goes begging it's best to knock on the front door."

  They lodged in room nineteen, so it was a short trip down the hall and around a corner to room twenty-three, which was conveniently isolated. There were no other doors off this hall, only a stair that likely led to the street. Royce rapped twice, paused then added three more.

  The door opened.

  "Come in, Duster."

  The room was a larger, more luxurious suite with a chandelier brightly lighting the interior. No beds were visible as they entered into a parlor. Against the far wall were two doors, which no doubt led to sleeping quarters. Dark green damask fabric adorned the walls and carpet covered the entire floor except for the area around the marble fireplace. Four tall windows decorated the outside wall, each shrouded with thick velvet curtains. Several ornate pieces of furniture lined the room. In the center stood a gaunt man with sunken cheeks and accusing eyes. Two more men stood slightly behind him while another two waited near the door.

  "Everyone, please take a seat," the thin man told them. He remained standing until they all sat. "Duster, let me get right to the point. I made it clear on your last visit that you are not welcome here, did I not?"

  Royce was silent.

  "I was unusually patient then, but seeing as how you've returned, perhaps politeness is not the proper tack to take with you. Personally, I hold you in the highest regard, but as First Officer, I simply cannot allow you to blatantly walk into this city after having been warned." He paused, but when no reaction came from Royce, he continued. "Hadrian and the princess are welcome to leave. Point of fact, I must insist the lady leave, as the death of a noblewoman would make things awkward. Shall I assume Hadrian will refuse?"

  Hadrian glanced at Royce, who did not return his look. The fighter shrugged. "I would hate to miss whatever show is about to start."

  "In that case, Your Highness." The man made a sweeping hand motion toward the door. "If you will please return to your room."

  "I'm staying," Arista said. It was only two words, but spoken with all the confidence of a princess accustomed to getting her way.

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  "Shall I escort her, sir?" one of the men near the door offered with a menacing tone.

  "Touch her and this meeting will end badly," Royce said barely above a whisper.

  "Meeting?" The thin man laughed. "This is no meeting. This is retribution, and it will most assuredly end very badly."

  He looked back at Arista. "I've heard about you. I'm pleased to see the rumors are true."

  Arista had no idea what he meant, but did not like a thug knowing about her. She was even more disturbed by his approval.

  "Nevertheless, my men will escort you." He clapped his hands and the two doors to the adjoining rooms opened, as did the one behind them leading to the hallway. Many well-armed men poured in.

  "We are here to see the Jewel," Royce quietly said.

  Immediately the thin man's expression changed. Arista watched as in an instant his face followed a path from confidence to confusion then suspicion and finally curiosity. He ran a boney hand through his thin blonde hair. "What makes you think the Jewel will see you?"

  "Because there's profit in it for him."

  "The Jewel is already very wealthy."

  "It's not that kind of profit. Tell me, Price, how long have you had the new gate guards? The ones in the imperial uniforms. For that matter, when did Colnora get a gate? How many others like them are roaming the city?" Royce sat back and folded his hands across his lap. "I should have been stopped the moment I entered Colnora, and under farmer Oslow's field over two hours ago. Why the delay? Why are there no watches posted on the Arch or Bernum Bridge? Are you really getting that sloppy, Price? Or are the Imps running the show?"

  It was the thin man's turn to remain silent.

  "The Diamond can't be happy with the New Empire flexing their muscle. You used to have full reign and The Jewel his own fiefdom. But not anymore. Now he must share. The Diamond has been forced back into the shadows while the new landlord kicks up his heels in front of the fire in the house they built. Tell Cosmos I'm here to help with his little problem."

  Price stared at Royce, and then his eyes drifted to Arista. He nodded and stood up. "You will, of course, remain here until I return."

  "Why not?" Hadrian remarked, apparently undisturbed by the tension radiating in the room. "This is a whole lot better than our room. Are those walnuts over there?"

  During the exchange and while Price was gone, Royce never moved. Four men who were the most menacing of those present watched him intently. There seemed to be a contest of wills going on, each waiting to see who would flinch first. Hadrian, in contrast, casually strode around the room, examining the various paintings and furnishings. He selected a chair with a padded footstool, put up his feet, and began eating from a bowl of fruits and nuts.

  "This stuff is great," he said. "We didn't get anything like this in our room. Anyone else want some?" They ignored him. "Suit yourself." He popped another handful of walnuts into his mouth.

  Finally, Price returned. He had been gone for quite awhile, or perhaps it just seemed that way to Arista as she quietly waited. The Jewel consented to the meeting.

  A carriage waited for them in front of the Regal Fox. Arista was surprised when Royce and Hadrian surrendered their weapons before boarding. Price joined them in the carriage while two of the guild members sat up top with the driver. They rolled south two blocks then turned west and traveled farther up the hill, past the Tradesmen Arch toward Langdon Bridge. Through the open window, Arista could hear the metal rims of the coach and the horses' hooves clattering on the cobblestone. Across from her the glare of tavern lights crawled across Price's face who sat eyeing her with a malevolent smile. The man was all limbs with fingers too long and eyes sunk too deep.

  "It would seem you are doing better these days, Duster," he said with his hands folded awkwardly in his lap, a jackal pretending to be civilized. "At least your clientele has improved." The Diamond's first officer smiled a toothy grin and nodded at Arista. "Although rumor has it Melengar might not be the best investment these days. No offense intended, Your Highness. The Diamond is as a whole—and I personally am—rooting for you, but as a businessman, one does have to face facts."

  Arista presented him a pleasant smile. "The sun will rise tomorrow, Mr. Price. That is a fact. You have horrid breath and smell of horse manure. That is also a fact. Who will
win this war, however, is still a matter of opinion, and I put no weight in yours."

  Price raised his eyebrows.

  "She's an ambassador and a woman," Hadrian told him. "You'd be cut less fencing with a Pickering and stand a better chance of winning."

  Price smiled and nodded. Arista was unsure whether it was in approval or resentment, such was the face of thieves. "Who exactly are we going to see, or is that a secret?"

  "Cosmos Sebastian DeLur, the wealthiest merchant in Avryn," Royce replied. "Son of Cornelius DeLur of Delgos, who's probably the richest man alive. Between the two of them, the DeLur family controls most of the commerce and lends money to kings and commoners alike. He runs the Black Diamond and goes by the moniker of The Jewel."

  Price's hands twitched slightly.

  As they reached the summit of the hill itself, the carriage turned into a long private brick road that ascended Bernum Heights, a sharply rising bluff that overlooked the river below. Here sprawled the palatial DeLur estate. A massive gate wider than three city streets opened at their approach. Elegantly dressed guards stood rigid while a stuffy administrative clerk with white gloves and powdered wig marked their passing on a parchment. Then the carriage began its long serpentine ascent along a hedge and lantern-lined lane. Unexpected breaks in the foliage revealed glimpses of an elegant garden with elaborate sculpted fountains. At the top of the bluff stood a magnificent white marble mansion. Three stories in height, it was adorned with an eighteen-pillar colonnade forming a half-moon entrance illuminated by a massive chandelier suspended at its center. This estate was built to impress, but what caught Arista's attention was the huge bronze fountain of three nude women pouring pitchers of water into a pool.

  A pair of gold doors was opened by two more impeccably dressed servants. Another man dressed in a long dark coat led the way into the vestibule filled with tapestries and more sculptures than Arista had ever seen in one place. They were led through an archway outside to an expansive patio. Ivy-covered lattices lined an open-air terrace decorated with a variety of unusual plants and two more fountains—once more of nude women, only these were much smaller and wrought of polished marble.

  "Good evening, Your Highness, gentlemen. Welcome to my humble home."

  Seated on a luxurious couch a large man greeted them. He was not tall but of amazing girth. He looked to be in his early fifties and well on his way to going bald. He tied what little hair he had left with a black silk ribbon and let it fall in a tail down his back. His chubby face remained youthful, showing lines of age only at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, as he was doing now. He dressed in a silk robe and held a glass of wine, which threatened to spill as he motioned them over.

  "Duster, how long has it been, my old friend? I can see now that I should have made you First Officer when I had the chance. It would have saved so much trouble for the both of us. Alas, but I couldn't see it then. I hope we can put all that unpleasantness behind us now."

  "My business was settled the day Hoyte died," Royce replied. "Judging from our reception, I would say it was the Diamond that was having trouble putting the past behind them."

  "Quite right, quite right." Cosmos chuckled. Arista determined he was the kind of man who laughed the way other people twitched, stammered, or bit their nails. "You won't let me get away with anything will you? That's good. You keep me honest—well as honest as a man in my profession can be." He chuckled again. "It's that pesky legend that keeps the guild on edge. You're quite the boogieman. Not that Mr. Price here buys into any of that, you understand, but it is his responsibility to keep the organization running smoothly. Allowing you to stroll about town is like letting a man-eating tiger meander through a crowded tavern. As the tavern keeper, they expect me to maintain the peace."

  Cosmos motioned toward Price with his goblet. "You knew Mr. Price only briefly when you were still with us, I think. A pity. You would like him if you met under different circumstances."

  "Who said I didn't like him?"

  Cosmos laughed. "You don't like anyone, Duster with the exception of Hadrian and Miss DeLancy, of course. There are only those you put up with and those you don't. By the mere fact that I am here I can at least deduce I am not on your short list."

  "Short list?"

  "I can't imagine your slate of targets stays full for very long."

  "We both have lists. Names get added and names get erased all the time. It would appear Price added me to yours."

  "Consider it erased, my friend. Now tell me what can I get you to drink? Montemorcey? You always had a fondness for the best. I have a vintage stock in the cellar. I'll have a couple bottles brought up."

  "That'd be fine," Royce replied.

  He gave a slight glance to his steward, who bowed abruptly and left. "I hope you don't mind meeting in my little garden. I do so love the night air." Closing his eyes and tilting his head up, he took a deep breath. "I don't manage to get out nearly as often as I would like. Now please sit and tell me about this offer you bring."

  They each took seats opposite Cosmos on elaborate cushioned benches, the span between taken up by an ornate table whose legs were fashioned to look like powerful snakes, each different from the next, facing out with fanged mouths open. Behind them Arista could hear the gurgling of fountains and the late breeze shifting foliage. Below that, hidden from view by the balcony, was the deeper, menacing roar of the Bernum River.

  "It's more of a proposition really," Royce replied. "The princess here has a problem you might be able to help with, and you have a problem she may be able to solve."

  "Wonderful, wonderful. I like how this is starting. If you had said you were offering me the chance of a lifetime, I would have been doubtful, but arrangements of mutual benefit shows you are being straight forward. I like that, but you were always blunt, weren't you, Duster? You could afford to lay your cards on the table because you always had such excellent cards."

  A servant with white gloves identical to those worn by the gate clerk arrived and silently poured the wine then withdrew to a respectful distance. Cosmos waited politely for them each to take a taste.

  "Montemorcey is one of the finest vineyards in existence, and my cellar has some of their very best."

  Royce nodded his praise. Hadrian sniffed the dark red liquid skeptically then swallowed the contents in a single mouthful. "Not bad for old grape juice."

  Cosmos laughed once more. "Not a wine drinker. I should have known. Wine is no potable for a warrior. Gibbons, bring Hadrian a pull from the Oak Cask and leave the head on it. That should be more to your liking. Now, Duster, tell me about our mutual problems?"

  "Your problem is obvious. You don't like this New Empire crowding you."

  "Indeed I do not. They're everywhere and spreading. For each one you see in uniform you can expect three more you don't. Tavern keepers and blacksmiths are secretly on the imperial dole, passing information. It is impossible to run a proper guild as extensive and elaborate as the Black Diamond in such a restrictive environment. There is even evidence they have spies in the Diamond itself, which is most unsettling."

  "I also happen to know that Degan Gaunt is your boy."

  "Well, not mine per say."

  "Your father's then. Gaunt is supported by Delgos, Tur Del Fur is the capital of Delgos, and your father is the ruler of Tur Del Fur."

  Cosmos laughed again. "No, not the ruler. Delgos is a republic, remember. He is but one of a triumvirate of businessmen elected to lead the government."

  "Ah-huh."

  "You don't sound convinced."

  "It doesn't matter. The DeLurs are backing Gaunt in the hopes of breaking the Empire, so something that might help Gaunt would help you as well."

  "True, true, and what are you bringing me?"

  "An alliance with Melengar, the princess here is empowered to negotiate on behalf of her brother."

  "Word has it Melengar is helpless and about to fall to Ballentyne's Northern Imperial Army."

  "Word is mistaken. The em
press recalled the Northern Army to deal with the Nationalists. We passed it near Fallen Mire. Only a token force remains to watch the Galewyr River. The army moves slowly but it will reach Aquesta before Gaunt does. That will tip the scales in favor of the Empire."

  "What are you suggesting?"

  Royce looked at Arista, indicating that she should speak now.

  Arista set down her glass and gathered her thoughts as best she could. She was still befuddled from the day's ride and now the wine on an empty stomach caused her head to fog. She took a short breath and focused.

  "Melengar still has a defensive force," the princess began. "If we used it to attack across the river and broke through into Chadwick, there would be nothing to stop us from sweeping across into Glouston. Once there, the Marquis Lanaklin could raise an army from his loyal subjects and together we could march on Colnora. We can catch the Empire in a vice with Melengar pushing from the north and the Nationalists from the south. The Empire would have to either recommit the Northern Army, leaving the capital to Gaunt, or let us sweep across northern Warric unopposed."

  Cosmos said nothing, but there was a smile on his face. He took a drink of his wine and sat back to consider their words.

  "All we need you to do," Royce spoke again, "is to set up a meeting between Gaunt and the princess."

  "Once a formal agreement is struck between the Nationalists and Melengar," Arista explained. "I can take that to Trent. With the Nationalists on Aquesta's doorstep and my brother ravaging northern Warric, Trent will be more than happy to join us. And with their help, the Empire will be swept back into history, where it belongs."

  "You paint a lovely picture, Your Highness," Cosmos said. "But is it possible for Melengar to break out of Medford? Will Lanaklin be able to raise a force quickly enough to fend off any counter attack the Empire sends? I suspect you would say yes to both, but without the conviction that comes from knowing. Fortunately, these are not my concerns so much as they are yours. I will contact Gaunt's people and arrange a meeting. It will take a few days, however, and in the meantime it is not safe for you to stay in Colnora."