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.He hadn’t known about gift-of-tongues conjuration until we came.I explained that, too.I have assured him in your name that if he wishes to accompany us when we leave Skyrria, we shall be delighted to take him with us and help find him a new life somewhere, to live in luxury on all his ill-gotten loot.”“Spirits preserve me,” Wassail muttered.Back in Chivial, the prospect of letting that Viazemski horror loose on Eurania would have appalled him.Out here in the wilderness, he had to consider survival—not just his own, but of all those dependant on him.Values changed.If saving a monster’s hide was a necessary price, then he would have to pay it and hope nobody ever found out.Beaumont was gleeful.“We had difficulty setting out mutually acceptable terms and warranties, my lord.I described those bankers’ drafts you carry, but his simple soul cannot believe a piece of paper will change into bags of gold on demand.Naturally he won’t accept anything with his own name on it, either.Much too incriminating! In the end we agreed that he would write a testimonial for your signature, as a token of good faith.If I may say so, it is a masterpiece of romantic fiction.”“You trust him?”“Trust him, my lord? You are joking, aren’t you? He doesn’t trust me either, so that’s fair.But if all else fails us, perhaps he won’t.Who knows? He may be useful, that’s all.”Just as Sir Huckster Hakluyt had turned out to be a fountain of information about Skyrria, and might be of more use in future.Considering his youth, Beau had an astonishing eye for the terrain.“Very well, I’ll sign it.”The Blade produced a roll of parchment from his cloak.“Conveniently, Sir Arkell has already attached your seal, my lord.”• 8 •Kiensk at last! After so long, any destination would have been welcome, but this one looked much better than Arkell had expected—so good, in fact, that he decided the riverbank had been specially cleaned up for the Chivians’ arrival.Boats were tied up along the stone quay at suspiciously regular intervals; lumber, grain sacks, and other cargo were tidily stacked against the stockade that served as city wall; there were more horses in view than horse droppings.The lead boat had gone on ahead to carry warning, so the reception party was waiting when Wassail stepped ashore around noon.Bands played hobnail Skyrrian music like cats quarreling in a thunderstorm, peacock Pursuivant preened amid an exaltation of Skyrrian heralds, and a dozen hairy grandees glittered welcome in the sunshine.Why would men deck themselves up in so much jewelry and gold brocade, and then hide behind such jungles? Even the liveried pike-bearing men-at-arms had whiskers down to their belts.Strike a spark and they would all go up like dry hay.Igor was not present, of course, because monarchs did not skulk on docks.The Senior Beard was presented as Chief Boyar Skuratov, who must correspond roughly to Lord Chancellor, and he had brought other important hair-balls to support him—astrologers, conjurers, hereditary boyars of This and That, every one leaning on a staff of office.Prince Dimitri was there, too, looking as if he had an imminent appointment with the Imperial Tormentor.Curious!—last night he’d been bellowing out bawdy songs at the prospect of being reunited with his wife.Arkell caught Beau’s eye and confirmed that he had noticed the change.The three Blades crowded in around their ward.The scene had an uncomfortable stench of unreality about it, as if even the participants were taking this staged pomp seriously.The line of black-clad men on the rampart showed no weapons, but could be streltsy archers.The reason for Dimitri’s unhappiness was revealed when Chief Beard Skuratov announced, with deep regret, that, contrary to all previous reports, Princess Tasha was not currently resident in Kiensk; she was home with her sister-in-law at Faritsov.She would be summoned immediately, of course.Dear Dimitri had been sending his darling Yelena letters for the last month and receiving replies almost daily—how odd that he had not known where she was!So died any chance of leaving Kiensk and Skyrria before spring.Arkell made a mental note to buy some fur underwear as soon as possible.The open carriage provided for His Excellency’s triumphal entry into Kiensk resembled a converted hay wagon, but it was drawn by eight spectacular white horses.Wassail and three Best Beards climbed aboard.The heralds expected the Blades to ride with the mounted escort; Beau insisted that he and Arkell cling like footman to the back of the carriage, and Oak ride right behind them.Then Wassail, in turn, became uncooperative.By the terms agreed, Sir Dixon and his men would not enter High Town, but old Walrus insisted on seeing and approving their quarters before going to his, so the parade route was adjusted to pass through the Foreigners’ Quarter.By this time the Beards were looking testy.Eventually the band struck up again and the parade lurched forward.Once through the gates, Arkell was astonished by the width of the streets and the open gardens everywhere.Most of the buildings were built of stout logs, but none looked like hovels and some were mansions fit to hold up their roofs proudly in Grandon or even Laville.Over everything loomed the towers and domes and massive walls of High Town, a city within a city.The house provided for the Chivians in the Foreigners’ Quarter was humbler and dirtier, but could not be faulted.Sir Dixon declared himself well pleased, so Ambassador-at-Large Wassail shed his knights and most of his lesser followers.The parade proceeded on to Great Market, into High Town, and thus to the gates of the Imperial Palace itself, where he would be accommodated.This was, according to the Chief Boyar, a great honor.The guests’ quarters were a separate wing with a score of rooms on three levels, all cold and gloomy, with furniture to match.This was certainly adequate for a mere eight men— one earl, three Blades, one herald, and three servants—but it still felt like a jail.Windows were barred, staircases narrow spirals, and doorways never higher than chest-height.Smelly skins covered the floors and no tapestries or paneling masked the ashlar walls.Beau made a quick exploration and came back down to report.“It’s defensible enough, my lord, yet it would be a deathtrap in a fire.There’s only one way in or out.” He frowned.“That feels wrong!”“Obviously I can’t help,” Arkell muttered.“Why don’t I go back to Chivial?” Then he had to explain to his ward that the stairs had been curved and the doors hinged to favor right-handed defenders.Wassail snorted at the idea of three Blades holding off the Skyrrian Empire.“They’d starve us out.”“I’m almost there now, my lord,” Beau said.“Spirits! So am I, lad.Where’s that chamberlain?”So Percy was sent off to find food and returned leading an army of Skyrrian footmen and pages bearing silver dishes
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