Casket of Souls (19 page)

“And as you can imagine, Atre soon took over,” old Zell said with a laugh. “Our own principal actor took issue with that and dissolved the company. We threw in with Atre and Brader and headed south to seek better fortunes. And along the way, Brader stole my girl’s heart. No woman could ask for a better husband, either.”

Brader smiled with a warmth Alec hadn’t suspected the man capable of. “And no man could have a better wife.”

“And such talented children,” Kylith added. “I’ve enjoyed their antics in the comedies, and Van died very well tonight! We all wept, didn’t we, Alec?”

“No higher praise than that,” Brader said, warming more at the mention of his children. “They’ve been onstage all their lives. They don’t know any other life.”

“But you’ve been unlucky in finding a home, it seems,” Seregil noted. “First plague, then the attack on Nanta.”

“And a few troubles in between,” said Leea.

“But our luck has changed for the better in Rhíminee,” said Atre, saluting his patrons with his wine cup. “I hope to stay here for a very long time.”

“I’ll drink to that!” said Seregil.

S
EREGIL
and Alec’s fortunes continued to improve when they received an invitation in the archduchess’s own hand, asking them to join her salon the following evening. Seregil, in turn, sent a message to Atre. The actor appeared at their door the next day, dressed nearly as splendidly as they were.

“Sorry to pull you away from your work,” said Seregil as they set off on horseback, but only out of politeness. “I suppose you had to cancel the show?”

“Oh, no,” Atre assured him blithely. The man had hired a glossy black gelding for the evening and rode well. “We have a few plays in our repertoire that don’t include me. My understudy, Calieus, and young Teibo have center stage tonight. But of course, I would have come, even if it meant canceling a performance. I’m delighted to repay your generosity in such a small way.”

“And I’m delighted that you are a man of your word,” Seregil replied.

A damp, salt-laden breeze blew up from the harbor as they rode through the well-lit streets of the Noble Quarter to the grandest part bordering Silvermoon Street.

Alaya’s villa was four times the size of the house in Wheel Street. When they arrived, Seregil was surprised to find not only two servants in white livery ready to greet them and take charge of their horses, but half a dozen of the Palace Guard on duty as well.

The captain politely asked their names and gave them a slight bow. “Her Grace is expecting you.”

Servants ushered them inside and led them through a lavishly appointed receiving room into a grand salon, the walls of which were painted, Skalan-style, with colorful murals depicting ocean scenes. The archduchess’s main holdings were on the southeastern coast, though she was seldom there now that she served at court.

A large set of double doors at the far side of the room stood open, and through these they stepped into a garden courtyard ringed with fragrant flowers and trees and lit by crystal lanterns on tall gilt stands. The center was paved with pink marble slabs with compact lines of aromatic creeping thyme between them, bright with tiny purple flowers. Alaya and her guests reclined at ease on silk-draped couches set up beside a moss-crusted fountain. Carved sea serpents rose up out of the broad marble basin to spit tinkling streams of water.

Reltheus was already there, sharing a couch with a middle-aged woman Seregil recognized at once as Princess Aralain, mother of Elani. The princess royal sat with Alaya, slender as a boy in her sea-green silk. Elani had her aunt and mother’s fair hair and pale eyes, but must have taken after her father more than the royal side, for she was rather pretty, though Seregil noted a small scar just to the left of her chin, and another across the back of her right hand; swordsman’s scars. Her hands were not coarse—no doubt she wore gloves—but her nails were trimmed short.

Archduchess Alaya was dressed in purple silk, her white hair a mass of jeweled braids and ringlets. Marquise Evesia and her husband occupied another couch, and Marquis Kyrin completed the party, Seregil was surprised but pleased to see.

A young woman with red-blond hair stood in the circle of couches, the celebrated poetess Jenaria. She was reciting lyric verse at the moment. Seregil, Alec, and the actor remained respectfully in the doorway, waiting for her to finish.

When the poetess finished and sat down amid a flurry of applause, Seregil and his companions stepped forward and bowed deeply to the princesses and their hostess. Atre remained behind them.

Reltheus stood and joined them. “Your Highnesses, Your Grace, allow me to present Lord Seregil of Rhíminee, and his companion, Lord Alec of Ivywell.”

Princess Elani inclined her head, accustomed to deference, but Seregil was almost certain her gaze lingered a moment on Alec, though it was to him that she spoke.

“Lord Seregil the Aurënfaie? I’m pleased to meet you at last, cousin. Aunt Klia holds you both as great friends.”

“It’s been a long time, Seregil,” Princess Aralain said a bit less warmly.

“Your Highnesses greatly honor us,” Seregil said. “And Your Grace,” he added, bowing now to Alaya as Alec did the same.

Alaya smiled as she waved them to the last empty couch. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Alec. And look at you, Seregil! You have grown up from that sad little thing you were at court.”

A servant immediately came forward with a gilded wine table, golden cups, and plates of tiny sweetmeats for them. Alaya eyed Atre approvingly. “Tell me about this other handsome young fellow you have brought with you.”

“This is the great actor, Master Atre, lately of Nanta,” Seregil explained. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him and his company?”

“I have indeed. How clever of you to bring him. Princess Elani has been so curious to see his players.”

“A pity they are in such a poor venue,” added Princess Aralain, as if Atre weren’t there to hear.

“Ah, but that’s changed, Highness,” Seregil informed her. “Lady Kylith, Alec, and I have set them up properly in Gannet Lane.”

“Very good!” said Alaya. “Master Atre, I am so glad we will be able to sample your talent tonight. I’m sorry you missed Jenaria’s first offerings, but I’m sure she has another prepared for us.”

The poetess rose again and bowed to the guests. “It would be my honor, Your Grace,” she replied. “I offer to you
‘The Hour of Blue Leaves.’

“How lovely!” Princess Aralain exclaimed. “Do give us one more.”

“As you like, Highness.” The poetess pressed a hand to her heart. “ ‘Leave-Taking at Dawn.’ ”

This one was much longer, a lover’s lament. Seregil lounged against his end of their couch, sipping his wine and nodding appreciatively at particularly well-turned lines. Alec sat beside him, cup raised halfway to his lips, his expression one of rapt attention. It was only partly an act on both their parts; the woman was talented. Even so, Seregil was acutely aware of the curious glances Princess Elani was stealing in their direction.

He wasn’t the only one to notice. Reltheus looked their way more than once, and Aralain was watching with a hint of disapproval at the corners of her mouth. Alec was oblivious as usual to the attention he was attracting.

When the poetess had finished, she bowed once more and withdrew, leaving the archduchess and her guests to discuss her verse. Having missed most of it, Seregil and Alec had little to say, but he noticed that Elani was equally quiet and not fully at ease. The conversation flowed around her, hardly seeming to register. Marquis Kyrin, on the other hand, was particularly knowledgeable. Apparently this sort of entertainment agreed with him, for he recited a few short poems himself, in a deep, melodious voice. Even then, he had a reserved air about him that was in sharp contrast with
Reltheus’s open manner. Perhaps it was their political interests that had brought them together.

When the subject of poetry was exhausted, Alaya looked to Seregil. “And now for Master Atre, I think.”

Atre stood and delivered the soliloquy from an upcoming play in which he had the lead role of a wizard intent on capturing the affections of an unwilling young woman. It was dark and fiery, and Seregil found himself engrossed in spite of himself. Atre followed this with a comic monologue as the saucy but sharp-witted servant of a hapless noble who had a habit of getting into trouble of various sorts.

Seregil smiled, watching him. Even without costume or makeup, the man captured the demeanor and arrogant stance of the wizard, then changed completely as he capered lightly around the courtyard declaiming the servant’s irreverent speech. He impressed even Seregil, who was himself an expert at such transformations, though never for a knowing audience.

By the time he bowed, everyone was laughing heartily and applauding, even Princess Elani, who looked much more interested in this than she had the poetry.

“You are the consummate performer, my dear!” Alaya said, offering the actor her hand to kiss and gifting him with a golden ring from her finger.

“I am honored beyond words, Your Grace,” Atre said, gazing into her eyes as he took it, making even the old woman blush like a girl and clear her throat. Atre was already wearing a ruby ring Seregil recognized with a twinge of annoyance as having belonged to Kylith; Seregil had given it to her.

“I think you must be the most amusing man in all of Rhíminee,” Aralain exclaimed, clearly charmed as she gave him a bracelet from her wrist.

“You are far too generous, Your Highness,” Atre demurred, but pride shone in his eyes as he bowed and pressed his hand to his heart. “I hope you will come and see the plays in their entirety.”

“I shall attend your theater very soon,” she assured him.

“I shall, as well,” the princess royal said. Blushing a little, she pulled off one of her own rings and gave it to him.

Atre was allowed to withdraw to a back table with the poetess, and talk turned to other subjects.

“Tell me, Reltheus, what do you hear from Lord Danos?” Princess Aralain asked.

“I received a letter just the other day, Your Highness. He and his company captured and held a bridge at Redpoll for the queen, who led her forces to victory on the Plenimaran frontier.”

“He’s very fortunate to serve so close to my aunt,” said Elani. “I’d like to hear more of his exploits from him, when he returns.”

“May Sakor bring him safely home,” added her mother, who appeared to be as smitten with this potential suitor as her daughter.

“Most assuredly, Highness,” Reltheus told her. “Perhaps you’ll come to my estate again. Danos would be most honored to lead a hunt for you.”

Elani smiled, looking charmingly girlish. “I’d like that.”

And which more?
Seregil wondered.
The hunting or the young mans company?

“He also sent a private note to the princess royal, if you will allow it, Highness?”

“Certainly,” Aralain replied.

Elani blushed a bit as she took the sealed letter and tucked it into her sleeve.

“Do you have any more news of the war, Your Grace?” asked Alaya, clearly in his camp. “Is there any end in sight?”

“I don’t think so,” Reltheus told her with a sigh. “Part of the regiment was moved up the river toward Fleet Ford. Danos said they’d seen a great deal of battle, and he’s lost some good riders. He himself was wounded—”

“Not seriously, I hope!” exclaimed Elani.

“A mere flesh wound, he said. Although knowing my boy, he wished to spare my feelings and those of his stepmother with any detail.”

“Does he ever speak of Captain Beka Cavish?” asked Alec. “She’s with the Queen’s Horse, as well.”

“Now and then,” Reltheus said, clearly intending to keep the focus of the discussion on his son’s exploits and bravery,
which he extolled for several minutes. Princess Aralain hung on his every word, as did Alaya. And Elani, too, though her gaze did stray Alec’s way every now and then.

“And what does he say regarding his commander?” asked Evesia, who’d been quiet for some time.

Interesting, thought Seregil, that Aralain had not asked after her half sister.

“Nothing but praise!” Reltheus assured the marquise. “After the queen herself, Princess Klia is accounted the finest commander in the field. But you must hear a great deal of news, working so closely with her brother, the vicegerent. What does Prince Korathan have to say?”