“The price to be paid for another attempt.” He shrugged. “I believe we reached an understanding.”
Laughing, Kasamor reclaimed Aske’s sword and scabbard and held both out to Malachi. “Here. A trophy well-won. And a reminder that you shouldn’t walk the streets without one.”
Malachi hesitated, then took them. The sword fitted the scabbard to perfection, and the belt sat well enough at his waist. It felt strange, like he’d stepped back into an old life – one he’d been happy to leave.
“So what happens now?”
“Now,” Viktor said, “Kasamor owes me a debt. He can make payment in ale.”
Maladas, 26th day of Wellmarch
The Dark is never far from our hearts. It feeds on our pride, and on our fear. It tempts us to folly couched in the illusion of greatness, and hatred cloaked in devout proclamation.
from the sermons of Konor Belenzo
Five
King’s Gate bustled with colour and sound. Carts rumbled to market through the maze of cramped, timber-framed townhouses, or returned to outer provinces with the fruits of trades settled. Priests strode in solemn procession, golden robes gleaming. Craftsmen, soldiers and indentured servants hastened to and fro. The lifeblood of Tressia. Malachi just wished it could all have been accomplished a shade or two quieter. His outward path had taken him past the Essamere muster-fields – with all the inevitable shouting and clamour that was as much a part of soldiery as spilt blood – and he’d hoped for respite at his destination.
The morning after had arrived too soon on the heels of the night before. He felt as though Lumestra’s sunlight shone only for the express purpose of searing his weary eyes. The towering stones of King’s Gate offered blessed shelter from that assault. Alas, they offered none at all from the commotion of the morning’s traffic. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and let the morning pass. But he saw his friends little enough as it was.
“You have remembered the ring?” asked Malachi.
Kasamor tapped a saddlebag. “What do you take me for?”
“A man who’d lose his own sword, were it not buckled to his side.”
A wry smile. “True. But there are swords to be had all over the city. There’s no replacing my grandmother’s ring. Its sapphires will shine all the brighter on Calenne’s hand.”
“I still say you shouldn’t ride until your head’s clear,” said Malachi.
Laughing, Kasamor reached down and patted him on the shoulder. “Nothing like the wind on your cheeks to bring clarity. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with my head. Don’t project your own woes onto others.”
Malachi grimaced. “Be kind. If I’d wanted taking to task, I’d have stayed home.”
Kasamor leaned back in the saddle and shook his head. “Another quarrel with Lilyana?”
Rosa twitched her reins. Her steed side-stepped closer, unfazed by its heavy saddlebags. “And who can blame her? Malachi’s a rake. Common knowledge.”
Malachi snorted at the deadpan delivery. “It wasn’t Lily. Sidara met me on the stairs. You know she refused – actually flat-out refused – to let me past until I apologised for making so much noise?”
Viktor’s basso laughter joined the chorus, his amusement bright contrast to the shadow of his presence. Somehow he contrived to suck in the sunlight. How he tolerated the velvet cloak on so warm a day, Malachi couldn’t conceive.
“So what did you do?” said Kasamor.
“What do you think I did? I apologised. Then I sent her back to bed and staggered off to sleep.”
“Some councillor you are, losing an argument with your daughter.”
Malachi sniffed. “Yielding with grace is a cornerstone of politics. It’s her brother I feel sorry for. I suspect she’ll bully Constans fearfully.”
A column of soldiery marched past, the gold-frocked priest at their rear offering mournful hymn in a reedy voice. The officer at their head clenched a fist to her chest in salute. Viktor returned the gesture until she passed beneath the half-lowered portcullis.
“I didn’t have to come out here, you know,” said Malachi.
“Hah!” said Kasamor. “It’s the very least you can do as you shan’t be attending my wedding.”
“We’ve been over this. I can’t be spared. The Council’s work is endless.”
“The Grand Council’s work is endless,” Rosa offered drily. “You privy councillors live a rarefied existence. Wine and splendour all around.”
Malachi ground his teeth, failing as usual in his attempt not to rise to the bait. “I’d love to boot some of my workload down to that talking shop. The state of the fleet. The corn levy. Conscription levels. Clemency for undocumented southwealders. And that’s before we even get onto the subject of the war itself . . .”
Rosa held up a hand. “Please. Enough. You’re a busy man. We understand.”
“We’re none of us idle.” Viktor’s swarthy features tightened in thought. “And Kasamor should be riding, while he can.”
Kasamor frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That was the third company to march out this morning. A call to arms is coming.” He heaved massive shoulders in a shrug. “But if you’re on the road . . .”
Malachi frowned. “I’d know if a call to arms was in the offing.”
“Only if a herald found you,” said Viktor. “At this hour he’ll seek you at the breakfast table, or in your bed. Not loitering at King’s Gate.”
Kasamor stared back through the marketplace towards the plaza, and the looming spires of the palace. “I should stay, then. Calenne will understand.”
Viktor shook his head. “The Republic has thousands of soldiers to call upon. It will manage a few days without Kasamor Kiradin. It will be a chore, but we shall endure, all the same.”
“He’s right,” said Rosa. “There’s no shame in looking to your own happiness, this once.”
Kasamor threw up his hands. “Well, if the Council’s champion says as much, who am I to argue?”
“You always argue,” said Malachi. “About everything.”
“I do not.” He grinned and turned to Rosa. “Still coming along?”
“Bad enough that no one in your family will stand witness. Your friends shouldn’t abandon you.” She arched an eyebrow. “And you should have someone to watch your back. Love has you blind. The Southshires are dangerous.”
“Still carrying that torch?” Kasamor gaped in mock innocence. “I told you, I’ve eyes only for Calenne Trelan, and she for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up and ride, before I change my mind.”
His face blanked, save for a mischievous gleam about his eyes. “At your order, Lady Orova.”
Kasamor offered a half-bow to Malachi, and a close-fisted salute to Viktor. “Until we meet again. Please do nothing foolish while I’m gone.”
Hauling on his reins, he pushed his way into the crowds. Rosa gave a sharp nod of farewell and followed. Malachi watched until they passed through the thin line of tabarded toll-keepers, then turned aside.