standing by the window. 'Did I thank you for the diamond pendant, Grey Man?' she asked.
'I believe that you did,' he told her. 'Quite eloquently. So, tell me, why do you not wish to attend my banquet?'
'I have not been feeling well these last few days. It would be better for me to rest, I think.'
'You seemed well a few moments ago,' he observed drily.
'That is because you are such an exquisite lover. Where did you learn such skills?'
He did not answer, but transferred his gaze back out of the window. Compliments slid from him like water from slate. 'Do you love me?' she asked him. 'Even a little?'
'I am fond of you,' he said.
'Then why do you never tell me anything about yourself? You have been coming to me for two years now and I don't even know your real name.'
He turned his dark gaze towards her. 'Nor I yours,' he said. 'It does not matter. I must be going.'
'Be careful,' she said suddenly, surprising herself.
He looked at her closely. 'Of what?'
She was flustered. 'There is some talk in the town . . . You have enemies,' she concluded lamely.
'Vanis the merchant? Yes, I know.'
'He could . . . hire men to kill you.'
'Indeed. Are you sure you will not attend my banquet?'
She nodded. As always he walked across the room without any farewells. The door closed behind him.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! she railed at herself. She had heard from Aric that Vanis was considering assassination.
With his creditor dead Vanis would stave off bankruptcy. Aric had warned her to say nothing. 'It should be a surprising evening,' he had said, 'the rich peasant slaughtered in his own palace. Quite a memorable event, I would think.'
At first Lalitia had been annoyed, for now the gifts would cease, but she knew, after two years, there was no hope of the Grey Man proposing marriage. And she already knew he was seeing another courtesan in the south of the town. Soon he would stop coming to her. But, as the day wore on, she couldn't stop thinking about his demise.
Aric had always been good to her, but she knew that if she betrayed him he would have no hesitation in ordering her killed. And yet she had almost risked it. Almost told the Grey Man that the killers were waiting.
'I do not love him,' she said aloud. Lalitia had never loved anyone. Why then, she wondered, did she want to save him? Partly, she thought, it was that he never sought to possess her. He paid for his pleasure, was never cruel or dismissive, never judgemental or dominating. He did not seek to question her life, or offer her advice.
She rose from the bed and walked naked to the window where he had stood only moments before. She watched him ride the steeldust gelding through the open gates, and the heavy weight of sadness bore down on her.
Aric called him the rich peasant, but there was nothing of the peasant about the man. He radiated power and purpose. There was something elemental about him. Unyielding.
Lalitia smiled suddenly. 'I do not think they will kill you, Grey Man,' she whispered. The words, and the accompanying lift to her spirits, astonished her.
Life, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise.
*
Keeva had never attended a Noble Gathering, though as a child she had seen the elaborate carriages of the wealthy, and caught glimpses of the ladies in their silks and satins as they attended such events. Now she stood by the western wall of the Great Hall, a silver tray in her hands, bearing a selection of delicately crafted pastries, some filled with cheese, others with spiced meats. She was one of forty servants moving among the Grey Man's two hundred guests.
Never had Keeva seen so much satin, so many jewels: golden bangles encrusted with precious stones, ear-rings that sparkled in the light cast by a hundred lanterns, dresses or tunics embroidered with pearls and edged with silver, glittering tiaras, and even shoes decorated with rubies, emeralds and diamonds.
A young nobleman and his lady paused before her. The man was wearing a short cape edged
'I believe that you did,' he told her. 'Quite eloquently. So, tell me, why do you not wish to attend my banquet?'
'I have not been feeling well these last few days. It would be better for me to rest, I think.'
'You seemed well a few moments ago,' he observed drily.
'That is because you are such an exquisite lover. Where did you learn such skills?'
He did not answer, but transferred his gaze back out of the window. Compliments slid from him like water from slate. 'Do you love me?' she asked him. 'Even a little?'
'I am fond of you,' he said.
'Then why do you never tell me anything about yourself? You have been coming to me for two years now and I don't even know your real name.'
He turned his dark gaze towards her. 'Nor I yours,' he said. 'It does not matter. I must be going.'
'Be careful,' she said suddenly, surprising herself.
He looked at her closely. 'Of what?'
She was flustered. 'There is some talk in the town . . . You have enemies,' she concluded lamely.
'Vanis the merchant? Yes, I know.'
'He could . . . hire men to kill you.'
'Indeed. Are you sure you will not attend my banquet?'
She nodded. As always he walked across the room without any farewells. The door closed behind him.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! she railed at herself. She had heard from Aric that Vanis was considering assassination.
With his creditor dead Vanis would stave off bankruptcy. Aric had warned her to say nothing. 'It should be a surprising evening,' he had said, 'the rich peasant slaughtered in his own palace. Quite a memorable event, I would think.'
At first Lalitia had been annoyed, for now the gifts would cease, but she knew, after two years, there was no hope of the Grey Man proposing marriage. And she already knew he was seeing another courtesan in the south of the town. Soon he would stop coming to her. But, as the day wore on, she couldn't stop thinking about his demise.
Aric had always been good to her, but she knew that if she betrayed him he would have no hesitation in ordering her killed. And yet she had almost risked it. Almost told the Grey Man that the killers were waiting.
'I do not love him,' she said aloud. Lalitia had never loved anyone. Why then, she wondered, did she want to save him? Partly, she thought, it was that he never sought to possess her. He paid for his pleasure, was never cruel or dismissive, never judgemental or dominating. He did not seek to question her life, or offer her advice.
She rose from the bed and walked naked to the window where he had stood only moments before. She watched him ride the steeldust gelding through the open gates, and the heavy weight of sadness bore down on her.
Aric called him the rich peasant, but there was nothing of the peasant about the man. He radiated power and purpose. There was something elemental about him. Unyielding.
Lalitia smiled suddenly. 'I do not think they will kill you, Grey Man,' she whispered. The words, and the accompanying lift to her spirits, astonished her.
Life, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise.
*
Keeva had never attended a Noble Gathering, though as a child she had seen the elaborate carriages of the wealthy, and caught glimpses of the ladies in their silks and satins as they attended such events. Now she stood by the western wall of the Great Hall, a silver tray in her hands, bearing a selection of delicately crafted pastries, some filled with cheese, others with spiced meats. She was one of forty servants moving among the Grey Man's two hundred guests.
Never had Keeva seen so much satin, so many jewels: golden bangles encrusted with precious stones, ear-rings that sparkled in the light cast by a hundred lanterns, dresses or tunics embroidered with pearls and edged with silver, glittering tiaras, and even shoes decorated with rubies, emeralds and diamonds.
A young nobleman and his lady paused before her. The man was wearing a short cape edged
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