Steelhands - Jaida Jones [67]
I shifted impatiently, like my girl when I’d told her we had a long night ahead of us, but I knew Luvander was right. I knew we were right, too, about th’Esar having something up his ermine sleeve, but moving without proof too soon might mean we’d never get another chance later.
I just couldn’t stop thinking about Proudmouth and the others, or what Rook must’ve seen there in the desert. If th’Esar was thinking he could get someone else to fly my girl …
“I’m not good at sitting around on my ass when there’s work to be done,” I said finally, the sound of my own voice drowning out too much heavy thinking. “I’ll be the first to admit it.”
Balfour let out a chuckle, then promptly looked horrified when we both looked around at him at the same time, like he hadn’t realized we could hear him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still smiling, “that wasn’t—I wasn’t laughing at you at all. I was just thinking that so much of diplomacy is sitting around and waiting to take action. I believe I’ve inadvertently been training for something like this all along.”
“You’ll have to share your secrets,” I told him, just a little proud in the midst of being irritated as a mule in fly season.
“I think I’ll write to Ghislain,” Luvander pitched in, tapping his index finger against the table. “I’d been meaning to do it anyway, and this seems like the sort of thing he’d want to be here for. Of course, I haven’t any idea where he is or how long it’d take him to haul up the anchor and sail home, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Who knows where the winds will take him.”
“About putting all that stuff in a letter,” I started, being sensitive about that particular way of conveying information.
Luvander scoffed, pushing his chair back from the table with a loud scrape. “If that was the only way I had of getting Ghislain to come back to Thremedon, do you think I’d ever see him at all? I have considerably more wiles in my arsenal than you give me credit for. I’m going to tell him that Balfour is taking regular meetings with the Esarina and I think that they’re carrying on an affair, but I need him to come back so we can squeeze the information out of him properly. Can’t do that without one man to hold and the other to tickle.”
Balfour blanched, the smile wiped clean from his face. I’d caught the boys doing that to him once, though I’d put a stop to it by telling them they were acting like schoolboys in love. At least, that particular torture was ended, anyway.
“Don’t you think that might also be considered … well, slightly provocative information, if someone else should open the letter?” Balfour finally asked.
“You’re confusing gossip with treason,” Luvander said, tugging his scarf up again. “When people read about an affair, the first thing they do is tell their neighbor, not th’Esar. And who wants to be the one to tell th’Esar his wife’s been stepping out on him with a younger man? No, thank you! But, if it makes you feel better, I won’t use your name.”
“Oh, much better,” Balfour said, with a hint of the brand-new edge he’d shown us earlier.
“Ghislain or no,” I said, steering the conversation back around with as much difficulty as I’ve ever had with Proudmouth when the sky started getting fire-crazy, “we sit on this until th’Esar gives us reason to do otherwise. We keep our eyes open, Luvander rakes in all the gossip, and we don’t do anything stupid. At least not straightaway. Agreed?”
“Of course,” Luvander agreed, as Balfour nodded beside him. “In strict confidence, I’m more concerned with what comes after