handsome, few among them would have
been described as beautiful because their features were as strong as their bodies, and
their hard-eyed stares lacked warmth. Each wore a sword and carried a spear, but was
polite and respectful—although Nirati wondered if they would retain that demeanor when
the Prince of Deseirion appeared.
The rectangular ballroom had a row of tall windows along the western wall that allowed a
wonderful view of the night sky. Opposite them, to the left as one entered, tables had been
set up and laden with all manner of viands. Merchants and traders who wished to curry
favor with the Anturasi had gifted much in the way of wine, cheese, and other exotic foods.
Her grandfather’s taste for heavily spiced food had also been represented at the
centermost table, with cooks preparing and bringing out dishes that filled the air with
delightful scents in much the way the musicians in the room’s southwest corner filled the
air with sweet sounds.
As she surveyed the chamber, her eyes were naturally drawn to the catwalk running
around the entire room a good fifteen feet above the floor. Six feet wide, save at the
southeast corner where it became a triangular platform, its golden bars formed a lattice
that separated anyone up there from those below. In the southeast corner stood a chair
and small table, along with two Keru guards. The door in the east wall would be the one
through which her grandfather entered and from which he would eventually announce
the Stormwolf expedition.
She smiled slightly because she knew the posting would please Jorim beyond measure.
Her only worry was that her grandfather, through preoccupation or deliberate action, might
make the pronouncement in a way that would set Jorim off. While she loved her little
brother dearly, he did have a temper, and her grandfather’s celebration was not the place
to let it flare.
She shivered because a display of temper could do more than ruin the party. She could
not remember her grandfather’s sixty-third birthday feast, but Qiro and Ryn Anturasi had
gotten into a shouting match. From all she’d heard, Ryn had only been defending himself.
The fact that he’d left on the Wavewolf the next day without ever exchanging a civil word with his father—and had then disappeared—kept rumors alive that Qiro had had him
murdered.
Nirati looked over at her mother and smiled. Siatsi Anturasi wore a robe of gold, with
broad white bands trimming it at the hem, sleeves, and edges, and a purple sash holding
it closed. Taller than Nirati, though not as tall as any of the Keru, her mother had gone
from being a slender girl to mature woman without any diminution of beauty. She wore her
black hair up and secured with golden sticks. She’d powdered her face white, and used
gold to add a sparkle of freckles over her cheeks and nose. Gold paint also emphasized
her eyelids and lips, giving her the look of an alabaster statue come to life.
Her mother was an interesting woman, for she had managed to prosper within the
framework of two families dominated by strong patriarchs. Her own family, the Isturkens,
had been prosperous merchants who had married her off to Ryn Anturasi hoping to gain
some sort of benefit from Qiro. They had continued to prosper until her father died and her
elder brother, Eoarch, had taken over the business. His gambling habits extended beyond
the gaming tables, and lost cargoes and ships drove the family to the brink of ruin.
When Ryn died it had been expected that Siatsi would function as Qiro’s hostess, but she
declined and instead returned to her family and took over for Eoarch in all ways save for
the trading company’s public face. She bargained with Qiro for maps in return for allowing
his grandchildren to visit and be trained. Nirati had even heard it said that her mother had
become one of Prince Araylis’ mistresses in return for favorable customs duties on certain
shipments, but she had
been described as beautiful because their features were as strong as their bodies, and
their hard-eyed stares lacked warmth. Each wore a sword and carried a spear, but was
polite and respectful—although Nirati wondered if they would retain that demeanor when
the Prince of Deseirion appeared.
The rectangular ballroom had a row of tall windows along the western wall that allowed a
wonderful view of the night sky. Opposite them, to the left as one entered, tables had been
set up and laden with all manner of viands. Merchants and traders who wished to curry
favor with the Anturasi had gifted much in the way of wine, cheese, and other exotic foods.
Her grandfather’s taste for heavily spiced food had also been represented at the
centermost table, with cooks preparing and bringing out dishes that filled the air with
delightful scents in much the way the musicians in the room’s southwest corner filled the
air with sweet sounds.
As she surveyed the chamber, her eyes were naturally drawn to the catwalk running
around the entire room a good fifteen feet above the floor. Six feet wide, save at the
southeast corner where it became a triangular platform, its golden bars formed a lattice
that separated anyone up there from those below. In the southeast corner stood a chair
and small table, along with two Keru guards. The door in the east wall would be the one
through which her grandfather entered and from which he would eventually announce
the Stormwolf expedition.
She smiled slightly because she knew the posting would please Jorim beyond measure.
Her only worry was that her grandfather, through preoccupation or deliberate action, might
make the pronouncement in a way that would set Jorim off. While she loved her little
brother dearly, he did have a temper, and her grandfather’s celebration was not the place
to let it flare.
She shivered because a display of temper could do more than ruin the party. She could
not remember her grandfather’s sixty-third birthday feast, but Qiro and Ryn Anturasi had
gotten into a shouting match. From all she’d heard, Ryn had only been defending himself.
The fact that he’d left on the Wavewolf the next day without ever exchanging a civil word with his father—and had then disappeared—kept rumors alive that Qiro had had him
murdered.
Nirati looked over at her mother and smiled. Siatsi Anturasi wore a robe of gold, with
broad white bands trimming it at the hem, sleeves, and edges, and a purple sash holding
it closed. Taller than Nirati, though not as tall as any of the Keru, her mother had gone
from being a slender girl to mature woman without any diminution of beauty. She wore her
black hair up and secured with golden sticks. She’d powdered her face white, and used
gold to add a sparkle of freckles over her cheeks and nose. Gold paint also emphasized
her eyelids and lips, giving her the look of an alabaster statue come to life.
Her mother was an interesting woman, for she had managed to prosper within the
framework of two families dominated by strong patriarchs. Her own family, the Isturkens,
had been prosperous merchants who had married her off to Ryn Anturasi hoping to gain
some sort of benefit from Qiro. They had continued to prosper until her father died and her
elder brother, Eoarch, had taken over the business. His gambling habits extended beyond
the gaming tables, and lost cargoes and ships drove the family to the brink of ruin.
When Ryn died it had been expected that Siatsi would function as Qiro’s hostess, but she
declined and instead returned to her family and took over for Eoarch in all ways save for
the trading company’s public face. She bargained with Qiro for maps in return for allowing
his grandchildren to visit and be trained. Nirati had even heard it said that her mother had
become one of Prince Araylis’ mistresses in return for favorable customs duties on certain
shipments, but she had
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