The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [176]
Finally, on the morning of the fourth day when the archon summoned Nevyn to his palace, Jill went with him, mostly as a reward for her hard work. Gurtha received them in his private chambers and had his slaves spread an elaborate meal and pour the best wine. Lunching with them was a huge and ominous man introduced as Hanno, captain of the city guard. After some polite talk of civic affairs, Gurtha remarked that the date for the trial had been set.
“It’s not for two weeks, I’m afraid. The courts are always busy this time of year, because the winter weather gives people the leisure to invent lawsuits.” Gurtha glanced at Hanno. “Two weeks is a long time. You must be very careful, captain, that the barbarian prisoners don’t escape.”
“Of course, sir. Why, how could they escape, with my men guarding the inn? I’ve got them posted all round.”
“True. On the other hand, tonight, just when the tide is full, there’s going to be that procession in honor of the Star Goddesses. You’ll need to reduce the guard at the inn.”
“Hum, so I will. We’ll have to leave a few men there, though.”
“But what if they started drinking out of boredom and became wine-muddled?”
“Never happens. Not with me there to watch them.”
“Ah, but you might become distracted.”
“That’s true.” Hanno smiled at Nevyn and gave Jill a wink. “What an awful thought.”
“So it is, so it is.” Gurtha shook his head sadly. “But you can’t blame human beings for making a mistake now and then, can you?”
“No, you can’t,” Nevyn said. “Happens to the best of us.”
That night, while they waited for the tide to turn, they had a feast of sorts in the inn. The innkeeper hovered nervously near the table, while outside the archon’s men prowled back and forth, occasionally sticking a head through a window to see if it were time yet for them to neglect their duty and let the prisoners escape. Since all of the other customers ate in their chambers to avoid sharing the common room with criminals, they had the echoing tavern room to themselves. In this far from festive atmosphere Rhodry hurried through his meal, then left the table to go stand in the door and chat with the captain of the watch. He needed to be seen by a passerby or two if anyone was going to believe that he had somehow managed to distract the formidable Hanno in order to escape.
While he picked at a bit of bread, Nevyn went over a last few logistical arrangements.
“We need to sell or return those horses that the archon of Surat gave us. Oh, and that reminds me—we never could go back for all those wretched horses we left in Pastedion, as I remember telling a certain gerthddyn was most likely. Well, when the archon confiscates them, they’ll repay him for some of his trouble.”
“Begging your leave and all, oh master in this craft of ours,” Salamander said. “I should like to have them as well as the stock we’ve got with us.”
“Whatever for?”
“So I can pose as Evan, traveling horsetrader from the faraway barbarian kingdom, renowned for steeds. You are all sailing for home on the morrow, but my work here, alas, is not yet done.”
“What?” Nevyn seemed torn between annoyance and curiosity. “What stupid scheme do you have in mind now?”
“A scheme not of stupidity but of compassion, or so I may hope. During our travels, I ran across someone who showed a certain basic talent for dweomer but who never had the least chance to develop it. Since she’s much addicted to fortune-telling, I fear me she may come under the influence of certain unscrupulous types unless she’s given some way to tell gold from mica. She’s rich, and aforesaid types are bound to come flocking round her. But since at the time the Hawks were stooping to impale us all upon their blood-soaked claws, I had no leisure for long and civilized