A Jewel Bright Sea. Claire O'Dell

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СКАЧАТЬ mouth flickered into a smile. “He already handles it. Through me. You know that.”

      Maté scowled at the man. Before he could say anything unforgiveable, Anna laid a hand on his shoulder. “Maté, he’s right. Lord Brun gave him the final word. Besides…I agree. We cannot give up now.”

      His gaze swung up to hers. “You aren’t afraid of Koszenmarc? You seemed terrified before.”

      “I was,” she admitted. “But I doubt the man will make a second attempt. We’ll take extra care the next time we visit that cove. And I will lodge a formal complaint. It would look strange if we did nothing.”

      She glanced at Raab, who nodded. Permission given.

      Maté, however, studied her with an oddly intent expression. “If you insist.”

      “I do.”

      “Ah,” he breathed. “Well, then, that is a different matter. Very well. Raab and I shall hire more guards in the morning.”

      “And I’ll have another word with our innkeeper,” Raab said. “He ought to hire guards of his own, after this last episode.”

      He tossed off a second cup of that expensive wine before he departed. Maté, however, lingered over their feast, untouched except for the wine. He broke off pieces of the loaves and crumbled them into bits. He dumped spoonfuls of each dish onto the plates and stirred them into a mess. Soon their untouched feast no longer appeared quite so untouched.

      “You are a thorough man,” Anna said softly.

      He shrugged. “They tell me it’s a valuable skill. Do you have further requirements of me this evening, Lady Vrou?”

      He was unhappy. She could read that plainly from his tone and the way he avoided her gaze.

      She sighed. “No. Thank you.”

      Maté bowed and moved toward the door. Before he turned the latch, however, he stopped, his face turned away into the shadows. “Tell me,” he said softly. “Why did you agree to this mission?”

      Anna started at the unexpected question, and the implication that she had a choice. “Because…our lord and master ordered me to.”

      “And you did not wish to cross him.”

      He made it a statement, not a question.

      She nodded. “It seemed wiser not to.”

      Maté smiled faintly. “True. He can be a hasty man, our Hêr Lord Brun. So you believe we can track down this Sarrész? In spite of everything?”

      For a moment, she wanted to confess everything, but that would mean confessing that Brun had offered to cancel her bond but not Maté’s.

      “I do,” she said.

      “Then I should go. Shall I send in your attendants?”

      She shook her head. He bowed and took his leave, as lightly and silently as always. Outside, he spoke to the waiting servants, his words still muffled by the secrecy spells Anna had laid over the doors and windows.

      She turned back to the table and poured a full cup of wine, but before she had done more than taste it, she set it aside.

      I lied to my friend. My best and only friend.

      * * * *

      She slept at last, aided by the surgeon’s herbs and several glasses of that most excellent wine, but her sleep was restless and plagued by dreams so intense she might have called them dreams of past lives, except that all the images were from the day before. Maté’s strangely intent expression, mirrored by Raab’s cold one. The boy’s hesitation when he negotiated the price of her rescue. The moment when Koszenmarc cut her blindfold and she saw his face just inches from hers.

      Eventually she dropped into a deeper sleep and did not wake until late morning, long after the rains had ended and a fresh breeze sifted through the half-shuttered windows. There were no bells in Iglazi, nor anywhere in the islands outside the Emperor’s own garrisons. She missed them, the various melodies that marked the different quarters in Duenne. Once more she had the distinct sense that she had arrived in a different world, one stranger and more alien than if she had leaped through the magical plane into another existence entirely.

      Anna rubbed a hand over her eyes. Her head felt clear. Her aches had all vanished overnight. Her wrists were still tender, however, and she felt a lingering regret that had nothing to do with pirates and everything to do with her friendship with Maté.

      The moment she stirred, her maids glided into her chamber with fresh pitchers of water. That had been her first chore in Lord Brun’s household, fetching the water—a simple task that would not only accustom her to the house itself, but to her duties and her new status as a bondsmaid. That status had changed over the years, from maidservant to apprentice scribe to trusted assistant to the lord’s own personal secretary, and with each finely judged advancement, she found herself with more privilege. Tutors in magic and history. More freedom within the house. And then that final change of status…

      She pushed away those memories. She would talk to Maté again. She would tell him…not everything. But she owed him some sort of explanation.

      You see, Lord Brun wants a wife. A wife who can offer rank and influence and money. If that happens, he’ll want me gone. Sold, unless I give him good reason to set me free.

      Three of the inn’s bondsmaids entered with pots of tea and a tray piled high with those light, flaky pastries she had come to adore.

      “Where are Raab and Kovács?” Anna asked them.

      “Maester Raab is instructing the new guards in their duties, my lady,” said the senior maid. “Maester Kovács said he had errands to run.”

      Ah yes. Maté would be searching out clues about those pirates, no doubt. In between all his other duties, he had befriended a number of “interesting people” throughout Iglazi, people who had provided him with the local gossip. Which reminded her, she too had errands to perform, including a visit to Hêr Commander Maszny at the garrison.

      Anna made a careless gesture, as if the matter of guards or errands were not important. “Very well. I suppose they know their business, those two. Please bring me my letters.”

      The maids obeyed at once, and soon Anna had a stack of cards and letters next to her breakfast dishes. Vrou Analiese expressed a desire to further their acquaintance. Vrou Antonia invited her to the spas for her health. Barône Sellen’s eldest son, a well-known flirt and a gambler, wished to call upon her later in the day. Luckily, none of them appeared to know Barône Klos or his daughter.

      The last one had familiar handwriting on the cover.

      Lord Brun.

      “Fetch me my writing case,” she said to the maid who awaited any orders. “And tell Innkeeper Huoron I want a chair within the hour. Send for Raab and tell him to have those guards ready.”

      As soon as the maids scattered to their errands, she opened the letter from Brun. Or rather, the letter from her supposed man of business, who corresponded regularly with the Lady Iljana.

      On СКАЧАТЬ