“And that is Mirtrelyn.” Nyphron pointed to a nondescript open door in a cluster of three-story buildings.
“Land of Mirth?”
Nyphron smiled in surprise. “Your Fhrey is very good.” He nodded. “Mirtrelyn is…” He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the street, thinking. “I don’t know if you have such things in Rhulyn. It’s a place where people go to drink, sing songs, and tell tales.”
“We do that in our lodges.”
“This is less formal, a place common people can come and relax. Most enjoyable. The Galantians and I spent many a long night in there.”
“Seems small. Why come down here when you have that grand dome that I imagine could accommodate the whole town?”
“The Verenthenon is our tribal chamber, our general assembly hall—a smaller version of the Airenthenon—where the leading officers of the various Spears discuss issues and advise the Rhist Commander.”
Persephone smiled politely. “I see.”
“You don’t have a clue what I just said, do you?”
“You said that dome building is your lodge, only you don’t drink there.”
Nyphron laughed. “Okay, yes. I suppose that’s about right.”
“Wouldn’t work in Rhulyn,” she told him as the two began walking again. “Can’t call a meeting if there isn’t food and drink. No one would come.”
He laughed again. A nice laugh, she thought, and generous. Persephone often saw humor and laughter—the good sort—as a gift that both the giver and receiver enjoyed equally. The humorless she viewed as misers. Most of the men she knew were far too serious, which made Nyphron a ray of sunshine through a grim canopy.
The city wasn’t at all like her dreams. The real thing was far less perfect, and much more amazing. The complexity of twisting streets paved in flat stones, the pretty arched bridges, the brightly painted multistoried homes with their tall windows and dark wood trim were all things beyond her imagination. But she had been surprised to find piles of manure, broken pots, unconscious drunks sleeping on stoops, lewd graffiti, and the smell of urine, which was unmistakable on the narrower streets. But the biggest difference between dream and reality was that all the inhabitants could see her. Everyone stared. Those gathering water from the fountain forgot what they were doing. They stood frozen, watching as Nyphron and Persephone passed. Conversations halted; doors closed, and laughter died. In every face she saw fear mingled with revulsion and disbelief. One Fhrey openly cried.
Nyphron didn’t appear to see any of it as he continued his tour, pointing out landmarks and curiosities in a proud, positively jaunty manner. “I won’t take you up there.” He pointed toward a narrow lane that ran uphill underneath a bridge that joined two three-story buildings. “But there is a wonderful bathhouse up that way.”
“Bathhouse?”
“Where you go to bathe, to steam, to socialize.”
“None of those words seem at all related.”
Another warm laugh. Persephone was apparently the goddess of humor that day. “Trust me, it’s very nice. You’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will,” she lied.
They had returned to the stairs and were on their way back. The tour was coming to an end, but Persephone had a few questions she needed answered before they rejoined the rest. When they reached the first landing they were alone, so she seized the opportunity. Nyphron was a warrior, and she thought he would appreciate a direct approach. “So, what happens now?”
Caught by surprise, Nyphron turned to discover he’d left her behind. “I thought I’d show you around the fortified areas. Not the Spyrok, that takes too long to climb, but I think—”
“I mean now that we’ve taken Alon Rhist.” She toggled her index finger between them. “What happens now?”
“You’re the keenig; you tell me.”
“I’m not an idiot,” she said. “This is a huge victory for you.”
“For us.”
She rolled her eyes. “This won’t work if you continue to treat me like a child.”
He peered at her sidelong, his mouth partly open; he licked his lips, then his tongue lingered, touching his front teeth.
“You planned this,” she said.
“Of course I did. You were there when—”
“No—you planned this before you ever came to Rhen.”
He stopped. Again, the contemplative stare.
“You’ve plotted this maneuver for months, maybe years, but you didn’t count on me. You expected to be the Keenig of the Ten Clans.”
Still, Nyphron didn’t say anything, but his face shifted to genuine interest—perhaps for the first time in her presence. She wanted to think there was respect as well, but maybe she saw only what she wanted.
“When you came to Dahl Rhen, you said you were outlawed because you wouldn’t carry out the fane’s edicts and refused to destroy the Rhune dahls. You expressed outrage at the other Instarya who destroyed Dureya and Nadak, killing every villager. But I’m not buying that. Your assistance wasn’t because of moral outrage over the slaughter of innocents.”
He didn’t try to refute her, so she went on. “I don’t know. Maybe you do have a genuine aversion to butchering women and children. Or perhaps killing is a mindless habit for you, as easy to do as it is for Padera to snap the neck of a chicken. But you didn’t give up your heritage…leave all this”—she gestured at the city—“because a few houses were burned, a few babies killed. Such an act would take far more compassion than I think you’re capable of feeling. Honestly, I don’t care. What I do care about is what your plans are now. How do you see this grand adventure of yours playing out?”
“How do you think I see it?”
Persephone stepped to the handrail and looked down on the roof of a home that had a flower-and-vegetable garden on top. The plants were doing well for such a hot summer. “I think this bloodless victory, the capture of a fortress that my people believed to be impregnable, establishes you as a worthy hero among the ten clans. You’re gaining trust and allegiance. Another similar success and you might not need me at all. You might already feel I’m unnecessary.” She looked behind her. “And these stairs are very steep.”
“They are,” he said, then surprised her by holding out his hand.
She stared at it suspiciously.
He smiled at her hesitation, lowered his hand, and began to nod. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, but I’m probably not the only one to underestimate you. I suppose I could lie, I could insist you are wrong and reaffirm my devotion to the cause of saving the Rhunes, but I suspect you’d see through that. You’re a hard woman to lie to.”