Joel Shepherd - Haven

“Sofy,” Jaryd tried again, “you're assuming he has more power than he actually does….”

“Please, Jaryd,” Sofy cut him off. “Not in front of our guest.” She glanced to Premier Chiron. “We should not discuss such things so publicly. Please take no offence, Premier.”

“But of course not,” said Chiron, with a slight bow. “And if I may, Your Highness, I see the Elissians not so much as a threat to us but an opportunity. All these people who cheer you, they cheer because they think you will save them from the Elissians. When Tracato heard that the Steel was defeated, many panicked and left. But most stayed, because their lives are here, and because they heard that the Regent would recognise the old feudal rights, thus placing young Lord Alfriedo Renine at the head of Rhodaan. I myself have no difficulty in stepping down from my position, and yielding to Alfriedo, if it is in the best interest of Tracato and Rhodaan.

“But still they feared that some retribution would be in order, now that the Steel was not here to defend them, from the Elissians in particular. And now you have arrived, sent by the Regent himself, and you do not preach revenge or destruction, but respect and love. The people were frightened that you would demand the destruction of so much of their beloved city, yet now you tour the great sites. The Elissian threat will rally the people of Tracato behind you, Your Highness. You are their salvation.”

“Look…” Jaryd shook his head in exasperation. “The only reason the priests and the Black Order aren't crawling all over this city, smashing its statues and burning everything, is because they're all up in Shemorane, returning that damn holy star of theirs to the Enoran High Temple. But as soon as that's over, they'll come back here, and there's not a lot your husband can do about that. This is a holy war, being fought to cleanse these lands of any trace of serrin influence-”

“And that is why I must work fast,” Sofy interrupted, “to secure an arrangement within this city before they arrive. Even the Archbishop of Sherdaine cannot argue with the word of the Regent, through me.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that.”

“Besides which,” Sofy continued, “I do not believe that my husband dislikes the serrin as much as some others. He speaks that language because it is the language his allies and his priests demand, but I have heard him speak of Saalshen's achievements on occasion with admiration.”

“Aye, the way a bully lad will admire another lad's apple, then punch him in the face and take it from him.”

Sofy glared at Jaryd. He was truly being difficult, and she didn't think there was much more to it than his dislike of her being in charge. They had had adventures together, yet in all of those, he was the man with the sword, and his way was always the way taken. Here, he was in her territory and subject to her command. That, of course, and the small matter of jealousy….

Jeddie leaned forward. “I do not see how my people could visit a city such as this,” she said earnestly, “and not be moved by all that the serrin have inspired and created.”

Jaryd smiled humourlessly. “Then I suppose you also fail to see why in this city with its huge serrin population, there's not a single serrin or halfserrin come out to cheer for you today.”

Jeddie frowned. “You're right, I'm not sure I do see.”

“For the gods’ sakes, woman,” Jaryd retorted, “they think they're going to be murdered! You've convinced all the humans, but the one group of folk who most need convincing of their protection are now somewhere on the road to Saalshen.”

“Jaryd, you're being very rude,” Sofy said coldly. “There is no cause to speak to Jeddie like that.”

“Fine,” Jaryd muttered. “I'll take my concern for the serrin elsewhere, you keep on being concerned of your manners.”

He opened the carriage door without bothering to ask for it to slow, and skipped easily to the ground. Behind him, in the clatter of hooves and wheels, remained an uncomfortable pause.

“Very well then,” said Sofy. “There is one place in Tracato I should love to see, but have not yet visited. Jeddie, won't you tell the driver to take us to the Mahl'rhen?”

Jaryd told himself he was only venturing inside to make certain his friends were not going to end up in trouble. The brothel was to his mind a dank and gloomy place, its narrow lobby filled with bored girls dressed in poor imitation of noble ladies. Asym and Jandlys did not care, and approached the girls with the enthusiasm of men gone months without female company. The madam interposed herself, somewhat nervously as Lenay customers were doubtless rare in these parts, but Asym and Jandlys showed her their coin and made their selections, joking that it had been so long, perhaps they should take two girls each.

“And you, good sir?” the madam asked, turning to Jaryd. “My, aren't you handsome? I'll warrant it will take a particularly high-class girl to please your tastes.”

She called in Rhodaani, and a girl emerged from another room, looking irritated. Then she saw Jaryd, and her irritation faded.

“This lovely girl is Elene,” said the madam. “Her price is of course a little higher, but you have the look of a man prepared to pay for the highest quality.”

The girl was truly beautiful: her dark hair bound up to reveal a white curve of neck and shoulder, her waist narrow in the lady's corset. She sauntered to Jaryd, and trailed her fingers on his chest, gazing up at him with sultry fire. Jaryd did indeed feel the stirring in his loins. But mostly, he thought that her cheeks were fatter than Sofy's, and her lips did not quirk with crooked humour, and her eyes did not sparkle as Sofy's did.

“I'm sorry,” he said flatly. “Perhaps another day.” And to his friends as they ascended the stairs, “Take your time, I'm going to explore.”

“Aye,” said Jandlys, admiring the girl beneath his arm, “me too!” The girl looked a little nervous with the big, bearded Lenay, but Jaryd knew she had little to fear from Jandlys. Save for what was in his pants, which he supposed for a girl accustomed to less might be somewhat frightening.

Jaryd retreated onto the road. This was Reninesenn, or Renine's Town, in literal Rhodaani. These were the docks, just a stroll from the harbour, and territory loyal to Family Renine. Those who knew the place insisted that, like most of the city, things were very quiet lately. It did not look very quiet to Jaryd, as people went about their business, a bustle of commerce and tradesmen, officials, merchants, dockworkers, and sailors.

Jaryd stretched his shoulders and looked at the clear sky. He knew he was a fool. He had coin, and like his friends, he hadn't been with a woman in months. The last woman, in fact, had been Sofy. And now here he was, passing up a high-class, if expensive, fuck because he couldn't stop thinking of the impossible.

A man was approaching him. Or was he? For a moment, Jaryd was not sure, for the man wore the wide-brimmed hat common to the lowlands, beneath the brim of which he was glancing from side to side. But now he looked straight, and met Jaryd's eyes. Jaryd put a hand to his sword hilt. The man extended his own hand instead.

“Master Jaryd Nyvar?” Jaryd nodded. “My name is Zulmaher. I am a general in the Rhodaani Steel.”

Jaryd blinked. “General Zulmaher? Who led the invasion of Elisse?” Zulmaher nodded. Jaryd shook his hand. “That was quite a feat of arms, I hear. Though of course, we should be enemies.”

“Many things are not as they should be,” said Zulmaher. He was slightly taller than Jaryd, which was considerable for a lowlander. “You are allied to the Army of the Bacosh, whose allies-the Elissians-I defeated. But now the boot has shifted to the other foot. I hear you are a friend to the Princess Sofy?” Zulmaher's glance shifted to the brothel entrance, and the red lanterns hanging at the threshold. Jaryd wondered how much he guessed.