To no one’s surprise, Kest proved remarkably adept at using his shield to deflect all manner of projectiles, ranging from several varieties of almost (but not quite) lighter-than-air scones to gold-edged porcelain plates to any number of cups of scalding hot liquids.
‘You know,’ he commented, holding the shield out in front of us as the Duchess disposed of what was no doubt intended to be a lavish luncheon, ‘this is actually more difficult than trying to block normal weapons.’
A shard of broken pottery glanced off my cheek, drawing blood. ‘Why do you suppose that is?’
‘It’s the angles,’ he explained. ‘An arrow or a knife travels along a discernible arc and all you have to do is to consider distance and velocity. The Duchess’ weapons’ – he barely deflected a saucer that had been thrown with remarkable force and accuracy – ‘are rather more difficult to predict.’
‘Be thankful I didn’t think to bring my hunting bow,’ Ossia, Duchess of Baern bellowed – although somehow she still managed to sound elegant. ‘I’d have given that simpleton archer of yours a run for his money in my youth – and even now, in my autumn years, I’m confident I have the skill to dispatch Tristia of three of its most pernicious burdens!’
From her refuge behind one of the thick, elaborately carved mahogany poles that provided the tent’s main supports, Chalmers asked, ‘Is this the kind of reception you usually get from the Dukes?’
‘Only the ones who actually like us,’ Brasti replied grimly, his red hair sopping from some kind of soup that smelled deliciously of cardamom and chicken. I contented myself with a scone that had rolled along the carpet close enough to reach, figuring it was probably the only food Ossia was going to offer us today.
‘Your Grace?’ I called out from behind Kest’s shield.
‘Please don’t make it worse, Falcio,’ he whispered. ‘She hasn’t started on the cutlery yet.’
For all his intellect, Kest has never really understood the nobility. In his mind, the benefits of breeding, expensive education and advanced age should amount to some degree of adult behaviour. He forgets that being waited on hand and foot one’s entire life can turn anyone into a petulant child.
Something hard and heavy clanged against the shield. The Duchess had apparently reached the fruit bowl.
‘Duchess Ossia,’ I said, more firmly, ‘in five seconds I’m going to come out from behind this shield and when I do, if so much as a grape touches my person, then Kest, Brasti and I will take our leave of this hideous velvet monstrosity of yours, and we’ll confiscate its main support poles as compensation. Then you can see how much you enjoy parading around the countryside in a tent that won’t stay up.’
The barrage paused, and after a moment to make sure she wasn’t just looking for new projectiles, I stepped out from behind the shield.
Ossia was staring up at the decorative fringes that surrounded the tapestries. ‘It is rather grotesque, isn’t it?’
I gestured to the extravagant mess she’d made of the inside of the tent, which was now covered in bits of food and shards of broken porcelain. ‘Your peculiar choice of redecoration hasn’t much improved it, I’m afraid.’
She turned her gaze to me and favoured me with a brief, light laugh. ‘I do enjoy your wit now and again, Falcio.’ The smile disappeared. ‘However, I was illustrating a point.’
‘Which was?’
Duchess Ossia knelt down to pick up a wine glass that had escaped destruction. ‘That every time the three of you enter my Duchy you wreak havoc and leave behind a bloody awful mess.’
‘If this is about Margrave Evidalle—’
She reached for a teacup and I flinched involuntarily. ‘Of course I’m referring to the Margrave, you blithering idiot! I sent you there to do one thing: all you had to do was to discreetly learn his plans – not to contrive to have his own uncle murder him!’
Brasti stepped out from behind Kest’s shield to pick up a cloth-of-gold napkin from one of the serving trays. As he set about wiping broth from his hair and beard, he pointed out, ‘Well, once you knew his plans you’d’ve wanted him dead anyway, so we just skipped a step. It’s like you just said: we’re pernicious.’
‘He means “precocious”,’ Kest explained.
‘Saints save us from would-be heroes and travelling magistrates!’ She rose, walked back to the centre of the pavilion and sat on a smallish but intricately carved mahogany throne that matched the tent’s supporting poles. ‘The three of you disobeyed a direct order from the Ducal Council, and in the process, you’ve made a shambles of our strategy for dealing with the lesser nobles.’ She paused a moment before adding, ‘You are, without question, the worst spies I have ever seen.’
‘Actually, I suspect we’re only the second worst, your Grace,’ Kest said, his infatuation with accuracy overwhelming any sense of diplomacy, ‘since you apparently couldn’t trust your own spies to do the job.’
Duchess Ossia clacked her fingernails against the arms of her throne in barely contained frustration. ‘I will confess that of late I have found that men and women who spy for money can often be purchased by more than one buyer. Thus am I forced to choose between disloyalty and incompetence.’
She motioned imperiously towards a small table nearby upon which sat a teapot and the last intact cup. Whilst I disliked her propensity for treating everyone like a servant, she was, in fact, Aline’s closest ally among the Dukes and the nearest thing to a decent human being Tristia’s nobility had ever produced. So I served the old bag her tea.
She took a long sip, then set the cup down on the arm of her throne. ‘The country’s minor nobles – and damn the Gods for saddling us with all these wretched Margraves and Margravinas, Viscounts and Viscountesses, Lords and Daminas! – have been waiting for an opportunity to betray both me and the Crown for years.’
‘Then what’s the problem?’ Brasti asked. ‘We ended Evidalle’s little revolt for you.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘Let there be wine and scones and celebrations for all!’
Ossia turned her gaze on me, revealing a mountain’s-worth of weariness, and too late I understood why she and the Ducal Council had wanted us to investigate the conspiracy, rather than try to put a stop to it. ‘Revolutions don’t end with one man’s death,’ I said. ‘Those nobles who were prepared to support Evidalle will just take cover for now and wait for a better opportunity to come along.’
The Duchess of Baern sighed. ‘Why must you always be clever after the fact, Falcio? With a list of the names of the noble houses who were discomfited by Evidalle’s plans, I might have quietly set up alliances with them; that would have ended the reigns of those who supported treason. Then we could have distributed their holdings to those nobles most loyal to Aline and begun—’
‘How easily you all discuss these filthy schemes and machinations,’ Chalmers interrupted, the look in her eyes making it clear she included me in her disdain. ‘We’re supposed to be magistrates. What happened to administering the law in Tristia?’