“I didn’t say that.” Caldenia permitted herself a small smile. “At the core, they’re often beings ruled by passion. Given time and proper enticement, one passion can be replaced with another. But it takes a long while and requires careful emotional management.”
Dagorkun met us at the door. He nodded at me, pointedly ignored Caldenia’s presence, and led us to the back, where the Khanum sat on a wide covered balcony. A fire pit occupied the center, the stone of the balcony circling it in a broken ring, forming a round bench lined with orange, green, and yellow pillows. A thick blanket of grey clouds smothered the sky, promising rain but failing to deliver. The Khanum sprawled on the pillows. Her spacer armor was gone. Instead she wore a light voluminous robe the color of blood, embroidered with turquoise birds, alien, their plumage studded with dots of pure white, frolicking among sharp dark branches. Her face looked tired. Up close it was hard to ignore how huge she was. I looked like a child by comparison.
The Khanum regarded me from under half closed eyelids. “Greetings, Innkeeper.”
“Greetings, Khanum.”
“Sit with me.”
I took a seat across from her. Caldenia sat to my right.
The Khanum rolled her head and looked at her, her gaze heavy. “Witch.”
“Savage.” Caldenia smiled back, showing her sharp inhuman teeth.
“We know of you,” the Khanum said. “You’ve murdered a great many people. You’ve eaten some of them. You are a kadul.”
A cannibal.
“An abomination,” the Khanum said.
“You know what they say about abominations,” Caldenia said. “We make the worst enemies.”
“Was that a threat?”” Dagorkun’s eyes narrowed.
“A warning.” Caldenia folded her hands on her lap. “There is only one time to make threats: when you intend to negotiate. I do not.”
A male otrokar came in, bringing a tray bearing a tea pot and four cups. Dagorkun reached for it, but the Khanum took hold of the tea kettle first.
“Khanum…” Dagorkun began.
“Hush,” she told him. “It’s been years since I last poured you tea. Pretend you are five for your mother’s sake.”
Dagorkun sat down to my left and watched as the Khanum poured everyone a cup. Caldenia picked up her cup, turned her left hand so the large amethyst ring on her middle finger faced the surface, and dipped it into ruby-colored liquid.
The Khanum raised her eyebrows.
“It’s an insult to question the Khanum’s hospitality,” Dagorkun said.
“Alas, I do not care.” Caldenia glanced at her ring. A light blue symbol flashed on the surface of the beautiful stone. Caldenia picked up the cup and sipped it. I followed her lead. The tea, flavorful, spicy, and slightly bitter, washed over my tongue. I held it in my mouth, waiting for the familiar nip, and let it roll down my throat.
“You’ve had the red tea before,” the Khanum observed.
“Yes, but not this variety.” Most of the red tea I had seen was lighter in color, sometimes almost orange.
“This is wassa,” the Khanum said. “Poor people’s tea. You probably met the wealthier of our kind. They tend toward the paler teas. I like the tea my mother made. It’s the one Horde drinks after a hard march.”
I took another sip. The Khanum wanted something. She wouldn’t have invited me otherwise. Asking her about it was out of the question. I’d have to wait.
We finished the first cup in silence and the Khanum poured us another.
“The blond vampire wants you. Can your kind and his mate?”
Thank you, Arland, for putting me into this lovely position. “It is possible, but I have no interest in such a relationship.”
“Why not?” Dagorkun asked.
I smiled at him. “Because I have no intention of leaving my home, and Lord Arland would make a terrible innkeeper.”
“You could go with him,” the Khanum suggested.
“My place is here.” I sipped my tea. “His place is with his House. His attention is flattering but it doesn’t interfere with my mission.”
“And what is that?” Dagorkun asked.
“To keep you and them from killing each other.”
An otrokari dashed onto the balcony, running backward, jumped and caught a football sewn from rough leather. He saw the Khanum. His eyes widened and he ran back inside. Dagorkun rolled his eyes.
“Should I purchase some helmets?” I asked.
“No,” the Khanum said. “A few concussions would be good for them. It will settle them down.”
The big woman leaned back. “I do not understand you, Innkeeper. I understand the merchants. They are driven by profit. I understand the vampires. They are our mortal enemy and they seek the same things we seek: glory in battle, victory, and land. I even understand the Arbiter. There is power and satisfaction in shifting the balance of relations between many nations. What drives you, Innkeeper?”
“I want my inn to prosper. The more guests I have, the healthier and stronger is the inn. If the summit succeeds, it will be known that my home served you well.”
“We know the Arbitrator had approached other innkeepers to host this summit,” Dagorkun stated. “They turned him down.”