“May such times return,” Anjali said, “and quickly.”
“Indeed. See to their men’s needs, Chamberlain. Thank you.”
“My lady?” Teia said, speaking for the first time. “Um, I’ve never been to Az?lay before, and… the city is beautiful. May I… if we’re to be sitting in our rooms all night… I would love to have a chance to get out and see the city. Is that acceptable? Or should I stay here?”
She smiled. “It is a beautiful city, isn’t it? You’re no prisoner. You’ll find yourself followed at a discreet distance while you explore the city. To watch you, of course, but also to watch over you. Last thing we need right now is for something terrible to happen to a Blackguard and have the White believe we had a hand in it. Mm? So please avoid the neighborhoods east of the docks.”
“Thank you.”
“As you will.” She nodded and left.
After the Chamberlain got them situated in a large suite and a neighboring servants’ room, Anjali Gates said, “Please leave ascertaining whether we’re prisoners to me, would you?”
“I wasn’t—”
Anjali’s eyes were as forgiving as steel. “By forcing the question, you could have pushed the woman into a position we didn’t want. By speaking to her unbidden at all you invited punishment. You let me decide when to push and when to hold back. Understood?”
Teia was stung. “I—yes, Mistress.”
“Good. Now get out of here for an hour. I’ll write my report, and then you’ll take it to our men at the docks. You give them instructions that if they’re threatened, they’re to head out immediately with my report. Just in case the Nuqaba decides something unfortunate for us.”
Teia nodded. Starting a conversation with a satrapah as if they were equals? Who did she think she was? Too much time with Kip and the Blackguard had somehow made her forget what she was to others. How could she, of anyone, forget?
“Adrasteia?” Anjali said. “Did you notice anything peculiar about her?”
Teia thought. “No wine on her breath,” she said.
Anjali smiled. “See? They don’t make Blackguards out of just anyone.”
“I won’t step out of place again,” Teia promised.
Of course, my place is as an assassin—excuse me, I mean as a shield edge being brought down on some poor women’s necks.
“Please close the door behind you.” Anjali Gates sat down at the deck in front of a nice window overlooking the cliffs and the sea, and pulled out her scrolls and quill. “One hour,” she said without turning.
The door was still cracked open. Teia threw her hood up, let the lodestone clasps click the mask shut, and stepped into the hall, invisible. She shut the door behind her. Anyone watching the room would think that Teia was still inside.
But there was no one watching the room.
Teia ghosted through the halls, getting her bearings. Karris had shown her a map of the palace, but she hadn’t had long to study, and Teia was embarrassingly terrible with maps. By the time she figured out which rooms belonged to the Nuqaba—well, those were obvious, being huge and crawling with Tafok Amagez—and which were the satrapah’s rooms, her hour was nearly up.
The great hall was being set up for dinner, musicians tuning instruments and white-clad slaves setting the tables, when Teia passed back through. She came to her hall and saw a servant in nondescript clothing leaning against the wall where he could watch the entire hall. But he was obviously bored, and he was flirting with one of the dancers who was limbering up in a thin bodysuit nearby.
Teia took her time. It seemed that the dancer had figured out that he couldn’t leave his spot, so she was teasing him. “Well, why don’t you come over here and show me?”
“Ah, later, I will. I promise.”
“Later? Later I’ll have some lordling wanting me to sit on his lap. Can you compete with that?” She stuck her chest out and then rolled backward to form a bridge, kicked into a handstand, scissored her legs, and stood.
Teia actually stopped. That was amazing muscular control and flexibility.
But the man groaned aloud, his mind obviously on other things. Teia moved past him and missed whatever he said to the dancer as she turned the key in her door’s lock.
But he missed the clacking of the lock as well.
“I’ve been known as a girl of easy religion,” the dancer said, winking, “but I only worship at one shrine a day.” The woman slid smoothly into a full split on the floor and bounced on the ground suggestively.
But Teia didn’t wait to see what the man said. His eyes were stuck. She slipped into her room.
Empty. She threw her cloak back and opened the door again. She locked her door behind her and walked next door openly, as if she’d been in her own room the whole time. She knocked and went in.
“Perfect timing,” Anjali Gates said. “I’m just finishing up.” She blew on the warm wax sealing a scroll and then slid it into a leather scroll case. She also had a sheathed table knife on the table.
Anjali handed Teia the scroll case. “That’s the decoy. Filled with happy nothings about how well we were received and so forth. The real report is written in superviolet and wrapped around the blade of this knife. If you’re taken, make sure you rattle that blade around inside its sheath well to break up the superviolet script, understood?”
“Understood. Can I run with it?”
“Absolutely. This knife’s seen duty all over the world. You won’t destroy my note by accident. When you get to the skimmer, one of the reedsmen will ask if he can borrow a knife for his dinner. Give it to him. You can eat before you go, if you like.” She gestured to the wine, bread, cheese, and meats that had been delivered.
Teia shook her head. “Sooner started, sooner finished. I’ve been needing a run anyway.”
Minutes later, she was heading out the front door of the palace. A young Tafok Amagez fell in behind her. She turned and looked at him, amused.
Then she took off at an easy run. She’d left her sword behind, though she still had her knives and the rope spear around her waist. He, on the other hand, carried a decorative heavy spear and wore a gladius in addition to a brocaded burnous more fit for standing around looking pretty than for running.
So Teia took it easy on him—and ran as fast as she could. Blackguard Archers always had something to prove, and they treasured the chip on their shoulders as a birthright.
Teia made the pass at the skimmer with no problem. She took a draught of watered wine, didn’t offer any to her escort, who was pretending unsuccessfully to not be winded, and then, on hearing that no one was bothering the reedsmen, she ran back to the palace.
This time she took the long way, going up the winding grand boulevard just to add distance.
When she got to the Tafok Amagez at the palace door, her guard was fifty paces back. Teia dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief as if it had been an easy jog. “Tell your man it’s really sweet that he let me win, but I’m the slowest of the Blackguards, and I know I wouldn’t beat one of you in a real race.” Teia winked at the captain, who scowled, and patted his shoulder as she went past.
After she got inside, she finally took the deep, leaning-over-and-heaving breaths her body demanded.
It had all been the kind of thing she would have done if she were a real Blackguard, here on innocent duties, but to Teia it was something more than reinforcing her cover: it was a farewell. That girl Blackguard who teased other soldiers with her prowess was the girl she could have been. Maybe it was the girl she should have been. Like all soldiers, the Blackguards had hours of boredom to fill, and like all soldiers, they filled them with pranks and the breaking of silly rules.