Sword of the Gods - Bruce R. Cordell [70]
AIRSPUR
THE YEAR OF THE AGELESS ONE (1479 DR)
THE CONVEYANCE’S EXTERIOR TRIM WAS GILT, AND THE INTERIOR was plush with green and yellow cushions, witchlights for illumination, and red felt lining. A door on either side, and a window in back—but the pane of glass was too narrow, Demascus noted, for an enemy to get a shot through. The side windows on either door were a different matter entirely, but they allowed him to see out at least as well as any theoretical foe could see in.
“I could get used to this,” said Chant, who lounged across from Carmenere.
Riltana reclined next to Carmenere, opposite Demascus. She said, “Better enjoy it. Court conveyances aren’t lent out often. Even to people secretly related to the queen. This is the first time I’ve gotten to ride in one.”
Carmenere’s lips thinned. She said, “Thanks to your antics, Rilta, the palace guards know what you look like. The only way past the perimeter is to bypass it entirely. Only people the Crown trusts implicitly can call one of these coaches. I didn’t know until this morning if one would come if I called; I’ve never tried before. Anyway, it’ll see us past all the external security.”
“How interesting,” said Chant. He sat up straighter in his seat, the wheels in his mind obviously spinning. Demascus trusted that the human was his ally, but he wondered if Carmenere should be more careful around someone who professed to be a broker of illicit information.
Riltana studied Chant. She was probably thinking the same thing.
“Security’s a funny thing,” said Chant. “It can be hardened beyond all hope of penetration. But if you can find a way to get around—”
Riltana leaned forward and put a hand on the human’s shoulder. She said, “Word to the wise: anyone who enters the palace in a coach must still deal with the queen’s elite bodyguard.”
Chant jumped ever so slightly at the contact. He answered, “Ah, of course.”
Silence inside the coach seemed to grow heavier the longer it stretched. Without knowing exactly what he was going to say, Demascus opened his mouth and started talking. He said, “I don’t know much about, uh, Queen Arathane. Is she … well-loved by the people?”
He knew the question was stupid the moment it escaped his lips. Of course Carmenere would think her aunt was well-loved, and who in the coach would gainsay the royal niece?
Chant chuckled. He said, “She’s got a reputation for being fair, but strong. A pretty good combination, though I think her mother, Queen Cyndra, was more ‘loved.’ No offense,” he said to the silverstar.
“None taken,” responded Carmenere, with a faint smile. “My aunt is good at her job, whatever the nobles sometimes like to pretend. Even the poorest among the genasi can expect shelter and food.”
“And despite the roadblocks the Court of Majesty has thrown in her way,” said Chant, his tone making the statement more of a question than declaration.
“The Court of Majesty?” said Demascus. “I thought the Court and the queen were one and the same.”
“The court is a location,” said Carmenere. “It is where a conclave of five that includes the queen and the Four Stewards meet to decide policy. The stewards are the queen’s councilors, and they hold important positions of their own as well. But if they all decide as one, they can block Arathane’s decrees.” A hint of bitterness had crept into her voice.
“Which is why,” said Riltana, “the queen sometimes goes around the Court when she needs to get things done quick. She’s particularly fond of the Firestorm Cabal when it comes to such endeavors. Or so I’ve heard.”
Carmenere gave the thief a heated look and said, “Rumors can be had for coin and a wink; doesn’t make them true.”
“My source was pretty close to the queen, once upon a time,” said the thief, her tone vaguely accusatory.
“If you think—” began Carmenere.
“I don’t care what—” said Riltana simultaneously.
“Hey,” yelled Demascus, so loud he startled even himself. Everyone in the coach looked at him. Then Chant leaned back and studied the ceiling, as if suddenly very interested in the pattern on the red felt lining.