Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

Once she and Dauhd went shopping together in a women-only bookshop and the two of them returned looking smug and worldly. When Nestor asked what Riossa had seen, she simply shrugged. After Nestor pleaded, she relented and showed him her sketches of elegant Haldiim women playing cards and reading in brightly tiled interiors. Other drawings depicted ornate water pipes and stacks of foreign coins. Nestor delighted in the revelations and encouraged Riossa to explore more.

Kiram smiled at them. Despite being a Cadeleonian, Nestor was one of the most openminded people he'd ever known and in his company, Riossa seemed to blossom into an adventuress. He wondered how many other Cadeleonians might be as liberal as Nestor. Elezar certainly didn't seem concerned when Riossa disappeared with Dauhd for hours on end. But then Elezar rarely concerned himself with the whereabouts of women. Kiram only wished that Elezar could be so easygoing about Javier's absences.

More than once Kiram had caught Elezar frowning at him as if he had Javier secreted away in his pocket. At such times Kiram generally suggested that they attend the foot races at the Civic Gymnasium, and the prospects of exertion and gambling seemed to distract Elezar for the remainder of the afternoon.

Kiram tried not to think too closely on how keenly he missed Javier himself.

This week he'd only managed to steal a fleeting touch of Javier's hand during a torrential downpour when the two of them pressed close together within the crowd of men and women sheltering from the rain beneath a bakery's eaves. He'd met Javier's gaze and neither of them looked away. A woman whom Kiram remembered as one of Siamak's friends watched the two of them and, noticing her raised brows, Kiram released Javier's fingers and bowed his head.

The last thing he wanted was word to get back to his home. His mother would be angry-or more likely furious-when she learned that Kiram had no intention of marrying Hashiem Kir- Naham. Already he'd annoyed her by claiming to be too tired to attend a dinner with Hashiem. He supposed he should have gone but he didn't have it in him to look Hashiem in the face and pretend that he intended to live with the man.

And he'd been genuinely tired. For weeks now he'd woken early to help his father with the water clock. Then he'd spent his afternoons at the Civic Gymnasium where he practiced archery and honed the skills he'd learned at the Sagrada Academy. Or he'd explored the markets, playhouses, bookshops and public halls of the Haldiim district, searching out anything to distract and entertain the Grunitos. By dusk most evenings, his voice grew hoarse and his feet ached. He often staggered home exhausted.

Still, he slept poorly. Some nights he dreamed terrible things: Scholar Blasio's most recent letter informing him that Scholar Donamillo's condition had worsened had provided grist for several nightmares. But on other evenings, longing haunted him. It was one thing to endure loneliness while believing Javier was far from him in Rauma, but to have Javier near-so close that he could smell his sweat and feel the heat as their shoulders jostled-and to have to restrain himself day after day was maddening.

To console himself, he tried to remember that he needed to master such self-control. Soon both he and Javier could be living in Cadeleonian court and there discretion would be the greatest necessity.

Nothing drove that thought home so strongly as the sight that greeted Kiram early the next morning as he awaited Javier and the Grunitos at Mother Kir-Mahoud's stables.

A towering Cadeleonian priest mounted on a black stallion waited there as well. Kiram stood very still and tried not to meet the gaunt man's cool gaze.

Then to Kiram's horror, just as the Grunito party arrived and had dismounted, the priest reined his steed forward to block Javier's path.

"It has been ten days since you've visited chapel, Javier," he stated.

"Always good to know I'm missed," Javier replied.

Riossa led her horse towards Kiram. In a hushed whisper, she informed him that the priest was Timoteo, the eldest of the Grunito brothers. Timoteo stood nearly as tall as Elezar but looked far leaner. Violet and black robes lent his pale features a sickly pallor. The deep hollows of his eyes and his gaunt cheeks made Kiram think of a corpse more than a living man.

"You have most certainly been missed," Timoteo informed Javier sourly. "The father confessor in particular has noted your long absence with concern."

"I had no idea he was so attached to me, but now that you mention it, he did seem to particularly relish my tales of debauchery and sin." Javier gave Timoteo a smile that verged on lewd and then went on in a light tone. "Sadly, overseeing the design of this water clock has left me precious little free time to accumulate my normal tally of wanton whoring and dueling."

Javier's fingers slid over his sword hilt in an almost obscene manner. "Do assure my dear father confessor that I will return to whisper more of my dirty adventures in his ear just as soon as I have any."

Kiram strode forward before the conversation could turn truly ugly. Javier's hand was already on his sword, even if only playfully so.

"Speaking of the water clock." Kiram placed himself between Timoteo's horse and Javier. "My father has more questions concerning the pipes."

"Does he?" Javier asked and Kiram could see the amusement in his eyes.

"He needs an answer as soon as possible."

"Certainly. I'll go directly," Javier said.

"What?" Elezar objected from across the stable. "You're leaving already? We all just arrived!" Elezar started for Javier but Timoteo's mount blocked him.

"Timoteo," Elezar growled. "Move your damn horse! This isn't a race track, so either dismount or go home."

"I need a word with Javier." Timoteo's tone was indignant.

"You've had your word," Elezar snapped. "Now ride back to your mistress and let the rest of us alone."

"That woman is not-" Timoteo began.

"You're not fooling anyone." Elezar waved aside whatever excuse Timoteo wanted to make. "And I don't give a shit either way. Your lack of piety is your own damn concern. Just leave Javier alone. He knows his prayers better than you do and we all know it."

Nestor snickered at that and Riossa and her maid pretended to be occupied with their gloves. Flushing, Timoteo turned his mount aside and rode back the way he'd come.

"Well spoken," Kiram told Elezar once Timoteo was out of sight.

"Tim can't help being a jackass sometimes." Elezar shrugged. "He means well, but the royal bishop isn't making it easy for him or any priest to be friendly with Javier right now."

"What do you mean?" Kiram felt a sudden dread at the mention of the royal bishop. He remembered the blue jays he'd seen the week before and the feeling of the shadow curse at his back.

"It's nothing," Javier said firmly and he gave Elezar a hard look.

"It's not nothing. It's serious," Elezar replied, then looked to Kiram. "The year before you came to the academy Javier killed Lord Quemanor's firstborn son in a duel."

"Nestor told me."

"Did he tell you that since then Lord Quemanor has been out to destroy Javier?"

"He didn't need to. I met Lord Quemanor once," Kiram said.

"Well, now the man is blaming Javier for Fedeles' condition, claiming Javier possessed him. Quemanor's even petitioned the royal bishop to have Javier imprisoned and exorcised."

"Exorcised?" Kiram felt the blood draining from his face.

Javier said, "It's an empty threat. Quemanor doesn't have any proof and the royal bishop wouldn't dare move against me without a shred of evidence."

"Not yet, maybe." Elezar scowled at one of the stable hands and then turned his gaze back to Kiram. "I don't mean any offense to you or your family, Kiram, but all this time in the Haldiim district isn't doing his reputation any good."