Masquerades - Kate Novak [88]
"Nothing," Victor assured her, shaking himself. "I was just thinking about how much my father wants to be croamarkh. You might almost say he covets the post. After his first two terms, I was sure he'd recommend me, but then he insisted the time was wrong for a new man and he offered himself for the third term. Then, after Lansdal Ssemm made such a mess of his four years, father told me he had to take up the next term, so I wasn't blamed for any problems Ssemm left behind. I know I'd make a good croamarkh, but I need father's support to be elected."
"I know you'd make a good one, too," Alias said.
"I have such plans."
"I know. You told me about them the day we met."
"Those are just the plans if I find Verovan's treasure. I have others I'd start without it. Build a navy to protect our trading ships from pirates, for one, and train an army of Westgate citizens, not mercenaries, to protect our caravans from brigands, for another. I've even begun to toy with your idea of offering more people a vote in the council. Not everyone, like you said. That would be chaos. But smaller merchants and important artisans and craftsman. Bring in some new blood, like my father said about you."
"You should be croamarkh," Alias said. "Don't wait for your father anymore. When his term is up, tell him you're running with or without his support."
"I don't think I'd have enough support to defy him."
"You might be surprised," Alias said. "Lady Thalavar thinks highly of you. She said everyone knows The Gleason was your victory. If I've managed to bring in the Faceless by then, everyone who stands against the Night Masks will support you, too."
Victor turned toward her, his face only inches from her own. "And you? Would I have the support of one clever, beautiful warrior?"
"Of course," Alias replied, "though I don't think my support means much in this city."
"With you by my side I feel like I could conquer the world. What-why are you laughing?"
Alias worked hard at stifling a giggle. "I'm sorry. You just sounded for a moment like the hero in an opera."
"Opera's drawn from real life, after all," Victor replied. "Maybe if you close your eyes and listen hard you'll hear music, too."
Alias closed her eyes. She felt Victor's lips brush against hers.
"I do hear that music," the swordswoman whispered as she slid her arms around the nobleman's waist. "It sounds very far off, though. We need to bring it closer." She pulled Victor toward her and pressed her bps against his.
At the base of the Westlight, Kimbel checked his hourglass, then nodded to the waiting servants. With smoldering sticks the servants began lighting the fuses of the smoke powder novelties imported from Kara-Tur. They spiraled up into the darkness on columns of sparks, finally exploding in flowerlike bursts of light. The sky above flashed with color, reflected in the bay below. A few citizens of the city, those who'd actually witnessed magical fireball attacks, were bemused by this new toy of the wealthy. The less experienced, especially the children, were delighted with a spectacle they could share for free. Aboard The Gleason, although they were careful not to indicate how impressed they were by the display, the nobles all agreed it was a fitting signal for the end of the ship's maiden voyage.
Thirteen
Conversations Ashore
"Ooh, that's a pretty one," Jamal exclaimed as a golden marigold blossomed on the horizon. Mintassan harrumphed politely.
When the first explosions sounded Jamal had insisted they run up to Mintassan's aerie-a balcony reached from a window of his attic. The sage's home was far enough up the hill for them to have a clear view of the fireworks blossoming over the bay.
The sage and the actress reclined in heavy iron garden chairs which, after years of exposure to the elements, looked as if they'd been gnawed upon by rust monsters. Kel, newly scrubbed and dressed in some old clothes of the sage's, leaned out over the balcony railing with all the disdain for personal safety a teenaged boy could muster. Fireworks were still so rare an occurrence