They parted company and Magnus dispelled the illusion he had conjured as the counter spell and they waited quietly in their rooms until they were summoned for supper with Jim.
The meal was sumptuous in true Quegan fashion. Four long tables had been established in a square, with just enough space left between the corners to allow servants to move inside the open area to bring fresh trays of food. Each guest was free to pick whatever morsel appealed to them or wave the servant past. Behind them moved more young men and women carrying large vessels of wine and a very light ale.
The servants were uniformly attired in a simple tunic that fell below the knees, cinched at the waist with a double cord. Pug thought of them as boys and girls as none looked older than their late teens or early twenties, and all were exceptionally attractive.
The nobles present were all minor palace functionaries. Only the Imperial Chancellor held a noteworthy rank; his attendance a concession to Jim’s diplomatic rank. Normally a Kingdom Baron wouldn’t be entitled to so lofty a host, especially when only on an academic mission with little political or military significance, but it was probable that the Quegans already suspected Jim of being more than he appeared. Jim’s own spy network wasn’t the only one operating in the Bitter Sea, and he had, over the years, no doubt attracted as much Quegan interest as he had from the Keshians.
Pug had been paired with a very attractive middle-aged woman named Livia, who reclined on one of the large settees employed by the Quegans for dining. She waved away a servant holding a tray of candied fruits and said, ‘Too sweet. I must confess I prefer simple foods.’
She wore a traditional Quegan toga, which clung to her form well enough to promise a full healthy body beneath it. Her features were strong yet feminine; she had deep dark brown eyes, and a tiny touch of grey among her auburn hair, which she wore loose to her shoulders. While Pug had little interest in dalliances, he still found her attractive and interesting. She was introduced to him as a fellow academic, and the archivist who had been assigned to assist him and his companions the next day. Pug was certain that she’d prove helpful, and just as certain that she had been charged with reporting everything the three visiting academics did. What he didn’t know was if she was an archivist playing at being a spy or a spy playing at being an archivist.
‘Really?’ said Pug in a non-committal tone as he selected a ripe pear lightly coated in honey and sprinkled with crushed almonds. He bit into it and said, ‘Unusual, but very good.’
‘You get bored,’ she sighed. ‘I’m not very good at this sort of thing. My parents were only minor nobles, ragged cousins of some very important people. I was not likely to marry well, so they secured me a position here in the palace.’
Unsure what to say, Pug merely nodded. Then he asked, ‘Do you enjoy it?’
She seemed less than enthused by his question, but said, ‘It can be interesting. Occasionally someone such as yourself arrives to disrupt the monotony.’
Pug smiled as if flattered. He was now certain she was a spy, sent to seduce him and discover if there was anything more to him than the story Baron James of the Prince’s Court in Krondor had offered them. He glanced at where his son reclined, and saw that a somewhat younger, equally attractive woman had been seated next to him. Amirantha was paired with a very academic looking gentleman, and Pug held his grin in check. Amirantha had revealed himself to be something of a lady’s man over the time Pug had known him, while Magnus…
Pug occasionally worried about his last surviving son. Magnus had been terribly hurt by a young woman when he was barely more than a boy, and had refrained from becoming involved with any woman since then. Pug knew he succumbed to his more fundamental needs—he was injured, not dead—but while he might enjoy the occasional company of a courtesan in Kesh or the odd visit to a good brothel in Roldem, Magnus had avoided more serious interest from several young female students at Sorcerer’s Isle over the years. It would have worked out better for the Quegan intelligence apparatus had they placed the academic gentleman with Magnus and the pretty woman with Amirantha.
Pug turned his attention back to Livia and asked, ‘Seriously, do you enjoy working in the archives?’
She shrugged. He had touched on something and wondered just how well she had been prepared for this visit. If she was a Quegan agent, she would have some knowledge of the archives, but would be far from expert.