Guy Kay - Tigana

"I confess I had never even given it a thought," the former Tribute captain added.

With an effort Dianora forced her thoughts back to him. For a second she had forgotten her own query. Brandin did that to her. It was not a good thing, she thought. For many reasons it was not a good thing.

She turned again to Rhamanus. "I'm quite serious," she said. "But I'm not sure if you would want the position, even if it were possible. You have more status where you are, and this is Chiara, after all. Asoli can offer you some chance at wealth, but I think you have an idea what would be involved. What matters to you, Rhamanus?"

It was more bluntly put than courtesy would have deemed appropriate, especially with a friend.

He blinked, and fingered one of his chains of office.

"Is that what it comes down to?" he asked hesitantly. "Is that how you see it? Can a man not perhaps be moved by the prospect of a new challenge, or even, at the risk of sounding foolish, by the desire to serve his King?"

Her turn to blink.

"You shame me," she said simply, after a moment. "Rhamanus, I swear you do." She stilled his quick protests with a hand on his sleeve. "Sometimes I wonder what is happening to me. All the intriguing that goes on here."

She heard footsteps approaching and what she said next was spoken as much to the man behind as to the one in front of her. "Sometimes I wonder what this court is doing to me."

"Should I be wondering as well?" asked Brandin of Ygrath.

Smiling, he joined them. He did not touch her. He very seldom touched the saishan women in public, and this was an Ygrathen reception. They knew his rules. Their lives were shaped by his rules.

"My lord," she said, turning and sketching her salutation. She kept her voice airily provocative. "Do you find me more cynical than I was when this terrible man brought me here?"

Brandin's amused glance went from her to Rhamanus. It was not as if he'd needed the reminder of which Tribute captain had brought him Dianora. She knew that, and he knew she did. It was all part of their verbal dance. His intelligence stretched her to her limits, and then changed what those limits were. She noticed, perhaps because the subject had come up with Rhamanus, that there was as much grey in his beard now as black.

He nodded judiciously, simulating a deep concern over the question. "I would have to say so, yes. You have grown cynically manipulative in almost exactly the same proportion as the terrible man has grown fat."

"So much?" Dianora protested. "My lord, he is very fat!"

Both men chuckled. Rhamanus patted his belly affectionately.

"This," he said, "is what happens when you feed a man cold salt meat for twenty years at sea and then expose him to the delights of the King's city."

"Well then," said Brandin, "we may have to send you away somewhere until you are sleek as a seal again."

"My lord," said Rhamanus instantly, "I am yours to command in all things." His expression was sober and intense.

Brandin registered that and his tone changed as well. "I know that," he murmured. "I would that I had more of you at court. At both of my courts. Portly or sleek, Rhamanus, I am not unmindful of you, whatever our Dianora may think."

Very high praise, a promise of sorts, and a dismissal for the moment. Bright-eyed, Rhamanus bowed formally and withdrew. Brandin walked a couple of paces away, Rhun shuffling along beside him. Dianora followed, as she was expected to. Once out of earshot of anyone but the Fool, Brandin turned to her. He was, she was sorry to see, suppressing a smile.

"What did you do? Offer him north Asoli?"

Dianora heaved a heartfelt sigh of frustration. This happened all the time. "Now that," she protested, "is unfair. You are using magic."

He let the smile come. She knew that people were watching them. She knew what they would say amongst each other.

"Hardly," Brandin murmured. "I wouldn't waste it or drain myself on something so transparent."

"Transparent!" she bridled.

"Not you, my cynical manipulator. But Rhamanus was too serious too quickly when I jested about posting him away. And the only position of significance currently available is north Asoli and so…"

He let the sentence trail off. Laughter lingered in his eyes.

"Would he be such a bad choice?" Dianora asked defiantly. It was genuinely disconcerting how easily Brandin could sound the depths of things. If she allowed herself to dwell on that she could become frightened again.

"What do you think?" he asked by way of reply.

"I? Think?" She lifted her plucked eyebrows in exaggerated arches. "How should a mere object of the King's occasional pleasure venture to have an opinion on such matters?"

"Now that," said Brandin nodding briskly, "is an intelligent observation. I shall have to consult Solores, instead."

"If you get an intelligent observation out of her," Dianora said tartly, "I shall hurl myself from the saishan balcony into the sea."

"All the way across the harbor square? A long leap," said Brandin mildly.

"So," she replied, "is an intelligent observation for Solores."

And at that he laughed aloud. The court was listening. Everyone heard. Everyone would draw their own conclusions, but they would all be the same conclusion in the end. Scelto, she reflected, was likely to receive discreet contributions from sources other than Neso of Ygrath before the day was out.

"I saw something interesting on the mountain this morning," Brandin said, his amusement subsiding. "Something quite unusual."

This, she realized, was why he'd wanted to speak to her alone. He'd been up on Sangarios that morning; she was one of the few who knew about it. Brandin kept this venture quiet, in case he should fail. She'd been prepared to tease him about it.

At the beginning of spring, just as the winds began to change, before the last snows melted in Certando and Tregea and the southern reaches of what had been Tigana, came the three Ember Days that marked the turning of the year.

No fires not already burning were lit anywhere in the Palm. The devout fasted for at least the first of the three days. The bells of the Triad temples were silent. Men stayed within their doors at night, especially after darkfall on the first day which was the Day of the Dead.

There were Ember Days in autumn as well, halfway through the year, when the time of mourning came for Adaon slain on his mountain in Tregea, when the sun began to fade as Eanna mourned and Morian folded in upon herself in her Halls underground. But the spring days inspired a colder dread, especially in the countryside, because so much depended upon what would follow them. Winter's passing, the season of sowing, and the hope of grain, of life, in the summer's fullness to come.

In Chiara there was an added ritual, different from anything elsewhere in the Palm.

On the Island the tale was told that Adaon and Eanna had first come together in love for three full days and nights on the summit of Sangarios. That in the surging climax of her desire on the third night Eanna of the Lights had created the stars of heaven and strewn them like shining lace through the dark. And the tale was told that nine months later, which is three times three, the Triad was completed when Morian was born in the depths of winter in a cave on that same mountain.

And with Morian had come both life and death into the world, and with life and death came mortal man to walk under the newly named stars, the two moons of the night's warding, and the sun of day.

And for this reason had Chiara always asserted its preeminence among the nine provinces of the Palm, and for this reason as well did the Island name Morian as guardian of its destiny.

Morian of Portals, who had sway over all thresholds. For everyone knew that all islands were worlds unto themselves, that to come to an island was to come to another world. A truth known under the stars and moons, if not always remembered by the light of day.