‘But before that she was… more open to other suitors,’ supplied Zane.
‘So, let’s say we’ve all had the pleasure of… her company,’ said Tad.
Jim’s expression turned dangerous and his colour began to rise, his cheeks turning red. ‘When?’
Jommy said, ‘Second Day. The reception was the previous Fifth Day’
Tad said, ‘First.’
‘Really?’ asked Jommy. ‘I thought I had supper with her first.’
‘No, I did,’ said Tad.
‘And you?’ Jommy asked of Zane.
‘Fourth.’
Jim looked ready to lose his temper completely, ‘So, you’re telling me that the three of you—’
Servan said, ‘Ah, four.’ They looked at him and he added, ‘Third Day’
Jommy put his hand on Jim’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, as friendly a gesture as he could manage. ‘Look at it this way, old son. We’ve saved you from a world of embarrassment, haven’t we? Whoever does wed her is going to be the butt of a lot of jokes in court. Can’t have that for the Duke’s grandson, can we?’
Jim looked from face to face, and the colour in his cheeks began to fade. He was not by nature an idealistic sort, but he had built up a very lovely ideal of Michele. Better to find out now, he acknowledged. Finally he shook his head and said, ‘Women.’
They resumed walking and Jommy said, ‘Yes.’
Tad said, ‘You know what the monks of La-Timsa at the university say about women don’t you?’
Jommy, Servan, and Zane had heard the old joke a dozen times and in unison answered, ‘Women! You can’t live with them and you can’t live with them.’
Jim groaned, realizing that La-Timsites were a celibate order. ‘I think I’ll stick to whores.’
Servan said, ‘Knowing the young women of the Royal Court in Roldem, I’d say it’s probably less expensive.’
‘And you’ll be lied to less often,’ said Zane.
‘Well, this is all good and all,’ said Jommy, ‘but have you seen any sight of a retreating army?’
‘That way,’ said Jim, pointing at a litter of dropped items. ‘We follow what they threw away.’
‘Let’s hope the Dasati didn’t. I’m not anxious to walk into their rearguard,’ Tad said.
Conversation fell off as they trudged up a hillside and over another ridge. Then Jim said, ‘You know the tune that magician was humming?’
‘What about it?’ asked Servan.
‘I just realized I recognize it! It’s a tune common in the ale houses in Land’s End and Port Vykor.’
‘So?’ asked Tad.
‘So where’s a Tsurani magician learn a tune sung by drunken sailors down in Land’s End?’
No one had an answer.
Leso Varen felt positively buoyant, though he was at a loss to explain why. So much of his life was made up of odd impulses that he could not explain, so he had long ago given up any seeking reasonable explanations. He knew it all began with the amulet he had found so many years ago, and the dreams that had come afterward. He had thrown it away, twice, then spent years recovering it, and once he destroyed it, he thought, only to find the shards and restore it, killing a half-dozen jewellers in the process. Something about that amulet…
That damned pirate Bear, the murderous monster, had it on when he died, and it was lost somewhere in the Bitter Sea. He had really desired that amulet. Wearing it had given him the first glimpse of what was possible, how death and life were so closely linked, and there was no more powerful source of power than a life slipping into death.
He never found the amulet, though he had searched in the sea for it years ago… There, his mind was wandering again.
He was certain there was some higher agency at work here, for he could not rest once he got an idea until he took it to fruition. Several times he had been frustrated by others, but somehow he had always endured.