Azure bonds - Kate Novak [38]
Dimswart's wife glared at Alias. "If you are quite through with your pet, I would like to signal for the professional entertainment to begin."
"He's not my…" began Alias, but Lady Leona swirled about and headed for the wedding party's table. The crowd parted for her as a rank of archers breaks at the arrival of a formation of lancers.
Alias hustled the lizard to his feet. "Where did you get that ridiculous getup?" she asked, tugging on the silk motley.
Dragonbait smiled and spun about so she could see the whole outfit. Little bells attached to the costume jangled.
Alias sighed. "Pick up the cups," she ordered, pointing to the crystal on the ground.
With exaggerated care the lizard obeyed, stacking the glittering hemispheres on the table with the punch bowl.
Lady Leona's voice rang out from the wedding table. "Attention, everyone. Lords and ladies." The tent quieted to a low hum, and the mother of the bride continued. "I am very pleased to introduce Olive Ruskettle, master bard and songsmith. Mistress Ruskettle has composed an ode to commemorate the joining of our two families."
Polite applause followed, and then people were still again.
Alias decided to take advantage of the temporary emptiness of the doorway to escort Dragonbait back to their room. She grabbed a handful of the baggy motley and began tugging him away from the crowd. Whimpering slightly, he pointed at Olive.
"I think he wants to hear the bard sing," Akabar said.
Alias sighed in resignation.
Dragonbait folded his arms and tilted his head, the very archetype of a music connoisseur. Except for being a lizard.
Ruskettle began strumming the yarting. The opening chords sounded to Alias like those the bard had used to taunt the dragon three days ago.
Though the halfling sang well and her tune was catchy, conversations continued about the edges of the tent, out of earshot of the hostess.
Alias caught the words of a nasal voice. "As I said to Sir Rafner, taxes. Raise taxes."
"She seems awfully short for a bard," remarked one of the bride's girlfriends, "but I wouldn't know good music if it attacked me in the dark."
"Not much, just fourteen or fifteen mugs," a drunken voice insisted from the ale table.
"Giogi, do it for me, please?"
For gods' sake, Giogi, Alias thought, would you just get it over with?
Giogioni Wyvernspur sighed. Minda would not quit asking him to repeat the imitation until he complied. He should never have done it for her in the first place. Giogi was not a young man of much sense, but he had enough to realize that his cousin Freffie's wedding reception was not the sort of place one did imitations of one's sovereign king. His only hope lay in getting it over with quickly and quietly.
Alias heard a young man's voice reply, "All right."
"Hooray, Giogi!" the woman cheered.
"Finally," Alias mumbled.
"Let me gather myself," Giogi said. Then his voice changed, becoming deeper, huskier, masking the squeakiness of youth and taking on a mountain lander's burr.
"My Cormytes. My People. As your king, as King Azoun, and as King Azoun IV, I must say that the need to raise your taxes is a result of the direct depravations of…" The voice dropped to a whisper. "Vangy, who is being depraved this time?"
Alias's breath quickened. She focused her attention on Giogi's altered voice. To her, the rest of the chatter died away, leaving only the husky tone. A powerfully sinister feeling swept over her, leaving her dizzy. The crowd was suffocating her. Her arm began to ache miserably. Nearby she heard a growl.
Panic rose in Alias. Her body was moving of its own accord, just as it had when she nearly killed Winefiddle. She tried to hold herself still, fight the urge to lunge at the Wyvernspur noble, but without success. Far off she heard women screaming and men shouting. Something nearby was burning.
Standing right beside Alias, Akabar felt