A Jewel Bright Sea. Claire O'Dell

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СКАЧАТЬ to be a tally of her expenses and income for the previous quarter. She could decode the references as she scanned the pages. This was a reply to her second-to-last report, which relayed their intention to pursue Sarrész to Eddalyon. Raab had already examined the letter and had underlined certain phrases that spoke of bills exceeding income and the need to balance her expenses before the end of the quarter.

      Brun was not happy with their progress, she deciphered. He wanted Sarrész either captured or killed and the jewel recovered within the month. Once they had accomplished that, they were to send word and he would meet them in Hanídos. Underneath the signature, Brun had added a postscript about steering clear of local moneylenders as the fees were too high—a reminder for her to avoid mages and the authorities.

      Anna remembered Brun’s clipped tones when he first told her that restriction. The Emperor, he’d said, would strongly dislike it if his personal concerns became publicly known.

      Translation: Brun did not wish his own concerns to become known.

      She wrote back a detailed reply, using the agreed-upon story of a missing letter of credit to relate the progress of their investigation, Sarrész’s mysterious disappearance, and their hopes of recovering the trail. Her pen hovered over the paper as she considered how much else to report. Not Maté’s astonishing demand that they simply give up, of course. Could she even find the right phrases to imply that with their code? And what about Koszenmarc?

      I’ll tell him later, if I must.

      Or Raab would, in this same reply. Neither Maté’s suggestion, nor the business with the pirates, would please Brun. She only hoped he did not punish Maté. She set her reply to Brun aside and started on her letter to Commander Maszny.

      By the time she had finished, her maids returned. Anna blew the ink dry and handed it over, unwaxed and unsealed, with orders to have it carried at once to Maszny. The second one, to Lord Brun, she tossed onto her desk, saying that Raab would see to its delivery. Then she sauntered off to her bath with an indifference she did not feel.

      Commander Maszny’s reply arrived just as she finished bathing. Anna hurried her maids through the task of dressing her in her newest costume, a confection of linen and lace, which had arrived from the seamstress the day before their ill-fated expedition to find Aldo Sarrész. She allowed them to brush out her hair, then ordered them from the room so that she might read the reply in private.

      A very odd, unexpected reply.

      The answer itself was simple enough. Lady Vrou Iljana would be received whenever she wished. It was everything else that made her eyes go wide. Expensive, scented parchment, covered with line after line of ornate phrases, written in the flowing script of a courtier.

      ...delighted...astonished...my heartfelt service...a jewel of society...

      She set the letter aside with dismay. Maszny was the younger son of an exceedingly wealthy prince, whose title and holdings dated from long before the Empire existed. And Maszny himself had received numerous decorations for his service in the military. There was even talk the Emperor would appoint him as the first Imperial governor of Eddalyon. This letter was more like those she’d seen from parasites of the Imperial Court, the ones who sent pleading letters to Hêr Lord Brun from time to time, asking for his patronage.

      Her maids returned with the news that the two senior guards awaited her in the entry hall. Anna followed them, still occupied with the seeming contradictions between Maszny’s letter and what she knew of his background.

      The two men stood at attention in the hall. One was an older man of middle height, with pale grey eyes that looked even paler in his dusky brown face. His companion was younger, with the flat cheekbones and arched nose of an islander.

      The older man bowed to Anna. “Lady Vrou. We are yours to command.”

      She handed them a silver denariie each. “Very good. I wish you to accompany me to the garrison. You have ordered a chair?”

      He bowed again. “Of course, Lady Vrou. It awaits you even now.”

      * * * *

      By this hour, the morning breezes had died away, leaving the city breathless and close, the sedan chair closer still. Anna closed her eyes and wet her throat with sips of lemon water from the flask a serving girl had handed her before she left the inn. From time to time, she flicked open the curtain to judge their progress. The part of her that was Lady Iljana was indifferent to the passing streets. The other part, the part that was her father’s daughter, could not help taking note of the city.

      According to the histories, the first people had arrived in Eddalyon a thousand years before. Very little of those settlements remained, just a few pockets of stone structures, and most of that buried under layers of dirt and stone. A second wave of settlers from four or five centuries ago had built walled cities and grand palaces for their kings. The other islands still possessed remnants of those palaces, but the ones on Vyros had been destroyed by the Empire’s invading troops.

      The garrison was the largest of the newer structures. It lay on the eastern side of the city, on a shoulder of land overlooking the harbor. As she stepped down from the sedan chair, Anna took in its high, thick walls, the towers at every corner, the numerous soldiers patrolling the walkways and standing before the gates. These were all signs of a steady, competent hand in charge.

      How, then, to explain the style of the letter she had received?

      She could only hope her interview would explain these contradictions.

      Inside the garrison, her guards and her chairmen were directed to a room to await their lady. A young woman in uniform escorted Anna through the compound, past numerous sentries and gates, and up a flight of stairs to the commander’s office, where she exchanged passwords with more guards.

      The door opened and her escort motioned for Anna to proceed.

      “My Lady Vrou.”

      Anna entered the room and paused.

      Commander Maszny’s office was cool and shaded. Its floor was tiled in dark blue, its walls the same pale brown as the rest of the garrison and hung with large maps of the region. At the far end of the room, two men stood over a table. One was a much older man, black-skinned and with features cut in sharp lines, his springy white hair cropped close to his skull—clearly a mainlander from the southeast provinces. The other was a younger man, dressed in the same uniform, but with more badges affixed to his collar.

      The younger man stepped around the desk and bowed. “Vrou Iljana. I am Hêr Lord Prince Dimarius Maszny, commander of this most desolate province. I am delighted to receive such a lovely ornament of Duenne’s Court.”

      It took all her control to keep from staring at this welcome. “Commander Maszny. Hêr Prince. I am not delighted. As I wrote, my reason for this interview is anything but pleasant.”

      “Oh, ah, yes. Those brigands.”

      Anna bit back an angry reply. “Those were pirates, not brigands, my lord,” she said evenly. “And however delighted I am that you have received me so quickly, I am also angry and distressed. My people tell me you were strangely indifferent to my plight yesterday.”

      Maszny waved a hand. “And I am distressed by your distress, my lady. Let us partake of refreshments while we discuss the matter.” He gestured toward a table set with elegant cups and decanters. “As for you, Captain Rouphos, I must banish you to oversee the СКАЧАТЬ