Two days – and two Disguise skill ups – after leaving Evote and her family we arrive at Dunshandan. As Lady Horsta had predicted, the walled city is still in the hands of its Trolland garrison, at least if the flags over the citadel are not lies. Compared to Nekis, Dunshandan is more a small town than a city. A quick calculation based on the roofs I can see suggests to me that it contains perhaps around two hundred houses. Surely it is too small to host a rogues’ guild?
The river is broad here, deep too and fast flowing. Several fishing boats are out on the sea beyond the estuary and that is encouraging. For our next dragon tooth we have to travel to Cassikos, another four or five days along the coast, and perhaps we’ll be able to purchase passage by ship.
‘Leave the talking to me,’ says Lady Horsta as we approach a gatehouse. Two towers flank an archway, with a raised portcullis and thick, iron-studded, doors that are open. Six soldiers in chainmail are leaning on their spears.
The paladin walks up to the nearest. ‘I’m Lady Horsta, here on orders from Queen Togesta. Is Captain Hildeim still in charge of the town?’
Immediately, the soldiers jerk as though they are puppets who have been pulled up sharply to their toes. From having had expressions that were complacent and indifferent they now stare at our spokesperson with incredulity and apprehension.
‘I’ll show you to the captain, ma’am.’ A grey-bearded soldier goes ahead of us, shouting unnecessarily at the citizens to make way.
My first impression of Dunshandan is that the city is prosperous: there are no derelict buildings, all the houses seem occupied; the street corners have stalls for vendors of food; I can hear the ringing metal sounds of blacksmiths at work, as well as the high-pitched squeaking from a nearby cork-cutter. A faint tang of urine in the air says that they have leatherworkers nearby too.
We come to a four-story stone building with crenelations around the roof. Here the guards stable our pony (not before Lisandra removes the bag with our coins) and we are shown inside. One floor up is the solar, a long room with a wooden floor and a raised platform at the end on which a lord might put their throne but here there were several musical instruments resting on or beside chairs. As I look around the room, I realise it has been prepared for a party, or a dance. All the seating is against the walls and green and red streamers criss-cross each other, fastened to roof beams above me. With sunrays forming slanted boxes of light through tall windows, it all feels very cheerful.
Several minutes pass and Lisandra has had enough of standing, waiting. She finds a chair – one without armrests that would have confined her too tightly – and sits in it. I join her and, soon after, so do Aarax, Gerard and Belle. His steps loud on the wooden floor, Amaris walks to the opposite side of the room and takes a seat there. The division in the party is not lost on our paladin, who looks one way, then the other, then chooses to remain on her feet in the middle of the room.
‘After this,’ Lisandra says, ‘I’m going to take a long, long bath. With constant top-ups of hot water.’
‘Good idea,’ says Belle. ‘And don’t you think there might be a dance here this evening? See the violins over there and the cello. If there is, I need to buy some new clothes.’
‘I just want a decent, hot meal,’ says Gerard. ‘Roast chicken will do me fine.’
Aarax nods. ‘A soft bed for me. I could sleep for a week.’
‘Oh yes,’ agrees Lisandra with such passion we all smile.
A door at the stage end of the room opens and in comes a man with black and red clothing, slick black hair and a finely sculpted moustache. ‘Lady Horsta, what a surprise. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. We are getting ready for St Betram’s Eve.’
‘Captain Hildeim. This is Amaris, emissary of the Inferni. And my other travel companions––’ a gesture towards our side of the room ‘––we are attempting the Epico Draco Missio and need your assistance to bring us by boat to Cassikos as soon as possible.’
‘Of course, of course. Absolutely. No problem at all. You can have a boat and a crew for your journey.’ The captain leans on one of the musician’s chairs. ‘But since the traitorous Arkines have declared war on us, we can’t openly transport you there with the status you deserve. You’ll have to disguise yourselves as a fishing ship from some pathetic, godforsaken realm, like the Kingdom of Lost Souls.’
A smile appears on Lady Horsta’s face. One that quickly fades, before she says, ‘Furthermore, you must take immediate measures to ensure Dunshandan is secure. It’s possible that an Arkine force will besiege the town. Cerridford is in their hands and there’s nothing to stop them ferrying soldiers across the Evrotes.
There is a pause. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘Increase your stockpiles of grain until you can withstand a year of siege. If you can afford it from the royal treasury, buy all the food that is available in and outside the city. If you can’t afford what the farmers are asking, simply commander supplies anyway and the queen will reimburse those affected when the war is over. Raise a militia from every person who can pull a bow and begin their training at once. Commission the manufacture of thousands of arrows.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
‘We encountered the main army of the Arkine Empire, led by Count Basillos,’ says Lady Horsta. ‘They must be at Callondum by now.’
‘So I’ve been informed. Is the capital secure?’
‘Of course. The Arkines had no siege equipment with them. They will try to besiege the city and they will fail. We humiliated the Jomskar in Forty-seven and we’ll do the same with the Arkines.’
I’m not so sure of this, having listened to the thoughts of one of the attackers. It seems to me that the Arkines have a reasonably good chance of infiltrating the city via the aqueduct. I don’t say anything though. In fact, it would suit my god if Callondum fell to the Arkine Empire. That way, the blockade on our eastern border would end. Just because I was in an alliance of sorts with Lady Horsta didn’t make Trolland friends of ours.
‘Hear! Hear!’ The captain looks around. ‘Ahh, that deserves a drink but everything has been moved for the dance.’
‘There’s a dance tonight?’ asks Belle.
‘Indeed, St Bertram’s is the main ball of the whole year.’
‘Good, I’ll leave you to your affairs. I need to buy a new dress. Come on Lisandra.’
With a chuckle, Lisandra heaves herself up. Gerard and Aarax stand too. Since I am no use when it comes to talking, I decide to go with my friends and move towards the door.
‘Wait!’ says Lady Horsta, looking quite stunned. ‘How can you talk of balls when there’s so much to do. We need to visit the armoury and equip ourselves properly with weapons and armour. We need to get supplies to the boat. We’ll be leaving on the first tide after dawn. There’s no time for dancing.’
‘There’s always time for dancing,’ Belle replies and leaves. As do we all.
I find that it’s a relief to be away from the paladin and even more so the inferni. So, it seems, do the rest of my friends. It is a cheerful group, then, who, having secured rooms, settle around a large table in the Old Oak Inn and order too much food.
‘By Scrithax, that’s better,’ says Gerard, studying the remains of his roast chicken and spotting a last bite of white meat, which he picks up and chews. Plates, some of them still laden with vegetables and pastries, cover the surface of the scarred wooden table.
Lisandra agrees. ‘It is. Civilisation again. I’m not made for the wild.’
‘At least we will go by boat for the journey to Cassikos,’ points out Aarax.
‘We will!’ Lisandra’s hand reaches for a pink fruit, hesitates and takes a bread roll from a different plate. ‘That’s the way to travel. Let the wind put in all the effort and not my legs. I might even get to study magic on the way.’
Well fed, I am drowsy, but Belle wants to find a dress for the ball and so we walk along the streets and it soon becomes clear how small is this town. Just fifteen minutes is needed to walk across from the gate in the middle of the north wall to that of the south. And about the same from east to west.
Disappointed, Belle can only find a dark green dress that would suit a grandmother of Nekis in the modesty of its length and lack of waist. Nevertheless, buying also ribbon, scissors, needle and thread, she is confident that her apparel will be suitable for the dancing she is looking forward to in the evening.
‘And how about this for you, Crow?’ The shirt she is touching is suitably dark for my taste, but has ridiculous sleeves whose cuffs hang down past my waist.
‘I am out of place in events like the ball; my habitat is street, roof, and wall.’
‘Come on, I think you’ll look very handsome.’
‘Nor do I have any skill in dance; I know all will stare at me askance.’
‘We’ll take it,’ says Belle, decisively. And as the stallholder folds up the garments into a bundle she grips my arms firmly and looks at me with her eager, dark eyes. ‘You are nimble and a fast learner. You just have to copy me.’
Although I dread the prospect of wearing a foolish shirt and hopping from foot to foot in full view of many people, there is the compensating thought that Belle has chosen me to be her partner for this ball. And had I been given this opportunity to be her date in Nekis, I would have not hesitated to take it. Let the rich dress better and move with studied elegance. I will not mind their scornful looks so long as the radiance of Belle’s presence fills my body with gold.
***
The ball at the keep is exactly as I feared it would be: too crowded, too bright under a dozen chandeliers, and too scornful of me in my full-sleeved garb. If I were able to do so, I would rely upon my Stealth and disappear into the shadows at the corners of the hall. Knowing me too well, however, Belle has her arm firmly linked in mine as she confidently stands among the guests.
All the talk is of war with the Arkine Empire and the mood in the hall is that of a boxer entering the ring.
‘I always mistrusted them,’ says a man I have been introduced to as the Margrave of Eastwick. ‘And it’s their own fault now if we take lands on the east of the River Evrotes. What’s that next river along, dear?’ This to the margravine, who stands beside him, all pale silk and pearls.
‘The River Perus, dear.’
‘That’s right. Their lands as far as the Perus should be forfeit to Trolland. That’s damn good farming land.’
‘Quite right!’
‘Hear! Hear!’
My voice is not raised more than a murmur but I regret my next words as the group around me fall silent. ‘You speak as if the battle must be won; you do not believe they can take Callondum?’
After his surprise at my question has been overcome, the margrave answers me, ‘Why of course not. You’ve seen the walls of our capital. I was a young man in Forty-Seven–’
‘You’re still young at heart, dear.’
‘–and the same is going to happen to the Arkines as happened to the Jomskar filth. We’ll intercept their supplies until they have to fall back and then we’ll ride around their flanks and turn their retreat into a rout. By Daspartar’s bolts of lightning, we’ll make them suffer. Of course we will. And peace will cost them dear. Everyone in this room will gain land from the Arkines, mark my words!’
‘Hurrah!’
‘Long live the queen!’
When the enthusiastic toasts subside – waiters hurrying over with more glasses of champagne on their silver trays – the margravine asks, ‘What do you do, young man? Who is your family?’
‘I’m a companion of Lady Horsta as we endeavour the epic quest; it is as a rogue that I am at my best.’
‘Well, goodness me, a rogue! How exciting. But must I fear the loss of my pearls? Hah! Hah!’
Everyone is very amused by this quip by the margravine.
‘It’s very broad-minded of Lady Horsta to have an inferni and this rogue in her party,’ observes the Margrave of Eastwick to his friends, as though I am not present.
‘I suppose that’s the nature of questing. One must make allowances.’ The margravine looks me up and down and up again. ‘You have a surprisingly pleasant face. I have always thought the poor to be rather ugly on the whole. And, really, I’m surprised you were invited to the ball. Still, any companion of Lady Horsta is most welcome. Don’t worry if you are ignorant of the dances, just stick to the corners and people will make allowance for the occasional bump. We don’t stand on ceremony in Dunshandan.’
Belle gives my arm a squeeze and I appreciate the gesture of solidarity. We are from the streets of Crumblin, from a community which is socially the very opposite of this assembly of nobles. And they are keen to let us know our place.
It seems as though the margravine will make further comments about me, her eyes are full of mirth as her mouth opens. Fortunately, though, from the stage at the far end of the hall, the musicians set about a tune and the floor quickly clears as we all move to the side. Then the bolder dancers re-enter and jewel-clad couples waltz gracefully across the polished floor.
‘Come on, Crow. Excuse us.’ And despite my reluctance, I allow Belle to pull my arm, until we too are a rotating and sliding couple. Step. Step. Step-step-step. It’s not difficult to establish the basics of the dance. Soon I forget the faces, forget the condescension of the borderland nobles, and am enjoying myself. Left hand holding Belle’s; right hand at her back. Step. Step. Step-step-step.
There is no doubt that with her high skill in Dancing, Belle is far and away more accomplished than anyone else here. Lithe, fluent, daring, she spins and stretches with increasing confidence as she comes to appreciate that I can play my part. I may not be able to match her extraordinary sensuality and subtle motions but I can keep time and position for her to move around me without fear of mishap. Ahh, Belle of the flashing eyes; Belle of the triumphant smiles; Belle with the grace of a zephyr. I consider myself fortunate to be here, dancing to the lively notes of the stringed instruments. No wonder she was paid to dance at the necromancer’s castle. It is a joy to watch her and even more of a joy to be the recipient of her smile as she enters into the flow of the music.
I love Belle and am more aware of that feeling than I have ever been. My body is light. My blood runs with the elixir of eternal youth. There is nowhere I’d rather be than in his hall, in this movement, dancing in harmony with Belle.
Only when the musicians take a break do I realise that Belle has astounded this provincial town. Everyone is looking at her, some faces displaying lust, some envy, but most show awe.
There is almost a stampede of people desiring to talk to her and I allow myself to be pushed aside. At least, until the music starts again, when out of the parting crowd comes the young woman of the moment, hand outstretched towards mine.
Once more we dance and once more the world reduces to the sounds of violin and cello and the skilful motions of my beloved Belle.
Only when the music stops and the jostling resumes do I return to my usual alert senses.
Satisfied with the evening and pleased with me, Belle shakes off the attentions of the nobles and we leave. We have a boat to join early in the morning after all.
On the way out, I pause only to remove the margravine’s pearl necklace and drop it unnoticed in her husband’s boot.