Stalking Darkness
warned.
Old Arna made a blessing sign in her mistress’ direction. “ ‘The sicker the mother, the stronger the son.’ ”
Kari rolled her eyes behind the old woman’s back. “We’ve heard that at least three times a day for the past month. Even if it’s another girl, I expect the child will be born with a sword in her hand.”
“Another Beka,” Alec said, grinning.
“And what about you?” Seregil asked Elsbet. “Last I heard, you were going to stay on at the temple school.”
“That’s right. Thank you for recommending me. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“First Beka’s commission with the Queen’s Horse Guard, and now Elsbet a scholar.” Kari slipped an arm about Elsbet’s waist and gave Seregil a dark look. “Thanks to you, I’ll be lucky to get any of my girls married off before they’re old and grey.”
“Scholars marry, Mama,” Elsbet chided.
“I’ll get married!” Illia chimed in, still clinging to Alec’s hand. “I’m going to marry you, Alec, aren’t I?”
The boy gave her a gallant bow. “If you still want me when you’re grown up a beauty like your mother and sister.”
Elsbet blushed noticeably at this. “How are you, Alec? Father told us you were hurt saving Klia.”
“I’m pretty well healed, except for this,” he replied, running a hand ruefully over his ragged hair. “Klia came out of it looking worse than I did.”
“It was very—brave of you. To run into the fire like that, I mean,” she stammered. Blushing more hotly than ever, she hurried after Arna into the house.
Alec turned to Kari with a perplexed look. “Is she all right?”
Kari slipped her arm through his with an enigmatic smile. “Oh, she’s just turned fifteen, and you’re a hero, that’s all. Come along now, brave Sir Alec, and let’s see what can be done about your hair. We don’t want you looking like the tinker’s boy in front of Lord Seregil’s fine lady friends tonight.”
6
M OURNING N IGHT
L ady Kylith’s tapestry-draped box commanded an excellent view into the Sakor Temple portico. Seregil and Alec reached the Temple Precinct an hour before sunset and found their hostess and six other guests already chatting over dainties and wine.
It was a frosty evening and everyone’s breath puffed out in little clouds as they talked. All were warmly swathed in black cloaks or robes out of respect for the occasion, but gold and jewels caught the light on wrists and circlets.
“Ah, now our little party is complete!” Kylith rose smiling to kiss Seregil.
He returned the kiss with genuine affection. They’d been lovers for a time years ago, and friends ever since. Kylith must be nearing fifty now, he realized, but time had refined both her famous beauty and wit.
All of these were in full force as she turned to Alec, still hanging shyly back. “And you and I meet again under far more pleasant circumstances, Sir Alec. I trust no one will be arresting Lord Seregil tonight?”
Alec executed a perfect bow. “I believe he’s rescheduled all arrests until tomorrow, my lady.”
Well done, Sir Alec
, Seregil thought to himself with a smile.
From the corner of his eye, he saw several of the others exchange discreet glances. Most of Rhíminee knew he’d been taken from his villa in chains only a few weeks before. Kylith had deftly removed any tension surrounding the incident by making light of it.
“Seregil, you’ll sit there by Lord Admiral Nyreidian,” she said, waving him to a seat beside a portly, black-bearded noble. “He’s overseeing the outfitting of the Queen’s privateer fleet and I know you’ll want to hear all about it. Sir Alec, you sit here between us so that we may renew our acquaintance. But first you must be properly introduced—Lord Admiral Nyreidian í Gorthos, Lady Tytiana ë Reva and Lady Breena ë Ursil of the Queen’s court, Sir Arius í Rafael, and my very dear friend Lady Yriel ë Nikiria.”
Pausing, she placed her hand over that of a uniformed woman on her right. “And this is Captain Julena ë Isai of the White Hawk Infantry, the newest addition to our little salon.”
Seregil eyed the captain with discreet interest; she was rumored to be Kylith’s latest paramour.
“My friends, you all know Lord Seregil í Korit,” she continued. “And this charming young man is Lord Seregil’s protégé, Sir Alec í Gareth of Ivywell. His late father was a knight of Mycena, I believe.”
Alec’s spurious pedigree elicited the
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