“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 bogeyman. Not that Mr. Price here buys into any of that, you understand, but it’s 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’m here, I can at least deduce I’m 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.
Cosmos 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 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 was the deeper, menacing roar of the Bernum River, hidden from view by the balcony.
“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 show you’re being straightforward. 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?”