"What in the name of any G.o.d you choose were you thinking? Did you imagine you could kill Chardin Sher's a.s.sistant, who, as you probably do not know, was yesterday named as envoy to stay on in Nicias after the conference ends, without your own head rolling in the gutter?"

"Sir, he deliberately sought a fight"

"Do youalways have to do what people always want you to?"

"It was a matter of honor."

"Honor can be easily redeemed without swordplay, sir!" Tenedos snapped.

"It was not mine, but... someone else's."

Tenedos stopped his pacing and stared at me.

"Mayhap the Countess Agramonte and Lavedan?" I did not answer. Tenedos's anger vanished.

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "Since you are a gentleman, and would not answer me, I shall not inquire as to how far this matter has gone, even though my question would be fueled less by prurience than politics. Nor will I make any suggestions as what you should do nor not do regarding the countess. I a.s.sume you well know how powerful her husband is.

"By the G.o.ds, Damastes, it's hard to keep you alive long enough to fulfill my promises to you!"

"Yes, sir. But I was not the one who pulled on Chardin Sher's beard that he doesn't have."

"No. No you weren't. But that was calculated, unlike ... unlike some other matters." Tenedos sat down, rubbing his forehead, thinking. Then he rose.

"I have a seminar to instruct some dominas in how weather magic can help them win battles in fifteen minutes, so you'll excuse me. Oh yes." He went to a desk, and took out a leather bag. "Here's gold enough to get some very good friends of yours very drunk to repay a very large debt."

"No thank you, sir," I said. "I have money of my own. And if it's not enough, I'll sell my sword for more."

"Very good. Consider this somewhat regrettable episode set aside. But don't wander into dark places to meet men with disreputable reputations any more than you have to. I don't know where I'd find your replacement."

I wanted to ask Tenedos exactly what place he saw for me, but then doubted if I'd want the answer, even if he knew it. I saluted and left. I had to find a tavern to rent.

Yonge grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me close. His words were slurred, since he was very drunk. I was not much better. Although I'd held myself to only a handful of brandies, my normally sober ways were not helping matters at all. Karjan was trying to convince the tavern la.s.s she really didn't want to sleep alone, and Yonge's three a.s.sociates, dis- *reputable and dangerous friends he'd made in his whoring about Nicias, were singing a ballad-three ballads, actually, none of them capable of understanding the others' bellows.

"Y'know, Numantian," Yonge said, "I think I'll stick close with you."

"You've fallen in love, then?"

"Don't try to be witty. I'm serious."

"All right. Be serious."

"Do you know why?"

"I do not."

" 'Cause you're bound to be a gen'ral, and I've never been around a real gen'ral."

"May Vachan bless your words."

"I don't know if that's a blesh... blessing. But you didn't let me finish. You'll either be a gen'ral... or else you'll get dead doing some fool thing that'll prob'ly end up being a legend or something.

"Either way, I want to see what comes next."

He refilled our gla.s.ses until they overflowed onto the table.

"Now, put this away neat. You're not drinking the way a gen'ral should."

I shuddered and obeyed.

The next morning I wished Malebranche had killed me. Lance Karjan was in little better shape, but the h.e.l.ls with him. He didn't have to meet a beautiful countess at noon. Fortunately I had arranged with the adjutant to have the day off to keep my appointment with Maran.

I drank half a gallon of water, pulled myself into my sports uniform, and staggered out to the athletic field. I threw up three times in four laps, went to the troop's bathing area and steamed for half an hour, then leaped into the coldest pool in the building.

I went to the mess, and sweet-talked the cooks into a gla.s.s of sharp fruit juice and three eggs beaten into an omelet made with the sharpest of spices. That and a pot of herbal tea, and there was a slight chance I would live long enough to greet Maran.

I handed Lucan's reins to a serving man, and entered the restaurant. I thought it was best to come in mufti; the uniform of the Helms was far too distinguishable for my purposes. I handed Maran's note to the greeter, and he bowed.

"Upstairs, sir. Third door. Here is the key."

I went up the stairs, realizing that at no time had I been seen by any of the restaurant's patrons. I began to suspect this eating establishment's reputation was founded on more than culinary skills.

I tapped at the door, inserted the key, and entered as laughter tinkled within.

The room was small for a dining area, no more than twenty feet by twelve feet, and high-ceilinged, with another door at its far end. There was a table set for two in the center of the room. Along both walls were couches wide enough to be beds and next to one a sideboard with an a.s.sortment of bottles. The rag beneath my boots was soft and thick enough to serve as a mattress.

Sitting on one couch, an open bottle of wine in an ice bucket between them, were Maran and a woman I did not know. They both stood.

"Ah, so this is the brave captain," the stranger said. I bowed.

"Damastes," Maran said, "this is my very best friend, Lady Amiel Kalvedon."

Lady Kalvedon was, even to my prejudiced eye, as lovely as Maran. She was taller, and while slender, had larger b.r.e.a.s.t.s that jutted from a very low-cut peasant's smock in silk that ended at midthigh. She had the perfect legs of a dancer. Her black hair came down to her shoulders in curling waves.

"Amiel has volunteered to do us a great service."

"Oh?"

"I am your ap.r.o.n," she said. Her voice was sultry. She was looking at me carefully, and I almost felt like blushing, knowing, for the first time, how a pretty woman feels entering a roomful of men. I thought she was about to take out a tape, ask me to lower my trousers, and measure the length of my c.o.c.k.

*"Damastes," she went on. "Damastes the Fair, I think I shall call you."

"I thank you, Lady."

"Considering what I am doing for you, and the terrible cost to my reputation, you should call me Amiel." She picked up her winegla.s.s, while I stood there, puzzled, drained it, bent and kissed Maran on the lips, picked up a shoulder bag, and went to the other door. ' shall be invisible until four, children. So have fun." She left.

Maran giggled. I saw that the wine bottle was about half-empty, and her cheeks were a bit flushed. She was dressed conservatively, in riding tights with a short flared skirt over them and a loose blouse. She'd taken off her boots and they lay on the floor, with her jacket and scarf beside them. "Do you want to explain?" "After you kiss me."

I picked her up in my arms, and our lips slid together, her tongue supping around mine. It lasted a very long time.

Finally, I broke away. "If that goes on any longer," I said, a bit breathlessly, 'Til never hear an explanation. What is an ap.r.o.n? And what are we doing to Lady... to Amiel's reputation?"

"Nothing, really. Here. Take off your jacket, get yourself some wine, and sit down. Over here, on the couch. Lean back, and let me take your boots off."

I obeyed. "But what will the waiter say? I a.s.sume there will be a waiter."

"When I pull that bell-cord, but not before. And for what I am paying to rent this room, we could be doing anything and he wouldn't say a word."

"You still haven't told me what an ap.r.o.n is." "An ap.r.o.n is a woman who keeps another woman company, who covers her when she's having an affair, so the first woman's husband won't suspect anything. Amiel, who's very close and the first woman I met when I came to Nicias, is doing more than that. She's allowing word to spread that she is terribly smitten with a certain young army officer, so smitten she wishes to spend every minute in his company."

"Suddenly she is my friend as well. But as she said, what of her reputation?"

"She doesn't worry about that... nor does her husband. They each live separate lives, and seem quite happy doing it" I'd heard this was common in the upper levels of Nicias, but this was the first proof I'd had.

"I see. Now, what was this affair to which you were referring? I mean, what aboutmy reputation?"

Maran laughed. "I've read about cavalrymen, so do not try that one."

She leaned back on the couch, and stretched, voluptuously, arching her back so her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rose proud.

"This restaurant prides itself on not only its privacy, but on being able to fix almost any dish that could be desired. And there's a menu on the table."

"I already know what I want to eat."

"Yes?"

I lifted her leg over my head and set it on the couch, then slipped both fingers under her blouse, found the tie of her tights, and undid it.

"You," I whispered.

I slid her tights down, and she lifted her hips as I did. I cast the tights aside, then pushed her blouse up until her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were bare.

"Are you going to let me get undressed?" she murmured.

"Maybe later," I said, and I teased her nipples with my teeth, then ran my tongue down her flat belly to where her skirt was bunched, then over her shaven smoothness and into her as her legs embraced my shoulders.

We ate no midday meal that day, and it was just four when we left.

I had made an interesting discovery that day. I held little use then, and less now, for alcohol in any form. But I'd found out that a hangover can make a man able to, in a rather indelicate expression, f.u.c.k like a mink.

So our affair began in earnest, Maran plunging into it as eagerly as I did. Before, I'd been slowly going mad with boredom, but now I was very grateful for the lack of real duties. I'm afraid the training I had been trying to give my Silver Centaurs, my Leaden Lummoxes, was nearly nonexistent. Not that the men objected-they gladly returned to their slothful ways. I should have been and should be now, I suppose, ashamed of my slacking. But with the Helms, it didn't seem to matter at all.

I was deeply grateful for Amiel's help, because I'd never been in this situation before, and now realized how few places a married n.o.blewoman who wished to keep her reputation and her lover could be alone or even innocently together with him without talk starting.

I grew to like Amiel, and found that she was indeed a loyal friend of Maran's, even though every now and then she eyed me carefully as she had on first meeting, even though she never said anything even slightly suggestive. She had little use for Maran's husband, and sometimes referred to him as Old Copperbottom, after the sheathing his freighters were given. She treated Maran as if she were her younger sister, still unex-posed to the world, and me almost as her own lover and cocon-spirator. She also kept referring to me as Damastes the Fair, and it was annoying when other people began using it.

Mar&n, however, thought it very funny.

But even with Amiel being an "ap.r.o.n," we could only expect her to cover us so often. We became expert at finding restaurants or taverns like the one we'd trysted in that first day. But even better, since we were well into the Time of Births, and the spring was gentle that year, was riding out of the city separately and meeting at a prearranged spot.

We found wonderful places to be alone, from riverside shanties to an abandoned castle so deeply buried in a small forest that its existence had been forgotten, to mossy, secluded glens. There were even places within the city, including a beautiful tiny rose garden in the middle of Manco Heath no one but us seemed to know of.

Mostly we met during the day, because it was harder to meet at night. Even though Count Lavedan was frequently absent, I was loath to visit their mansion, in spite of Maran's rea.s.surance that the servants would never talk. Of course she could not come to me in the barracks ever, since that was not only against orders but the jabbermouths who thought themselves army officers would have broadcast her appearance across Nicias within the hour.

It was a golden time, a time of honey, a time I wished could have a stop and be forever.

But both of us knew it must come to an end.

We had barely begun our intrigue when the Great Conference collapsed. The broadsheets said valuable matters had been discussed and there would be another meeting "in the near future." The states'

leaders held their final banquet and then went separate, supposedly cordial ways.

But the word on the street was that the conference had been acrimonious and a disaster.

Tenedos had fuller details, which I a.s.sumed he'd gotten from either Mahal or Scopas. As expected, the problem had been Chardin Sher, who behaved as if he were a full member of the Rule of Ten rather than their subordinate.

Matters came to a head when Mahal, no doubt at Tenedos's prodding, insisted the matter of the Border States' sovereignty be brought up. Chardin Sher said since there was strong historical precedent for the areas to be annexed to Kallio, that would be his suggestion to improve the situation.

"That would certainly," he added, "be a way of pacifying them for good and all."

Barthou had fallen into the trap, and asked why that should be.

"Because, with a strong man who's willing to provide law to those savages, backing it up with the full force he is capable of, these d.a.m.nable hillmen would no longer be the thorn in Numantia's side as they have been for many generations."

Chardin Sher put emphasis on the last, and Barthou began growling in anger.

Then Chardin Sher had said the Rule of Ten should think about what the other states had been concerned about for years: Why was this great country ruled only by men who came from Nicias?

Farel had acidly wondered if Chardin Sher had a better idea, and Chardin Sher said he had, and it was quite simple: The Rule of Ten should be immediately changed, so its representatives came from all Numantia. That tore it.

Tenedos said there'd been a screaming match, with very ill-chosen words being used on both sides, fromweddings totraitor. "So what does it mean?" I asked. "It means Chardin Sher will return home to the cheers of his countrymen. He stood up to those fools in Nicias, in their eyes. He'll then start quietly building up his armies, and possibly making alliances with some of the other states who little like Nicias or the Rule of Ten." "War?"

"Not for a while. But there will be border incidents that justify Chardin Sher having a bigger and bigger army. Then ... then he'll think about marching west."

But Tenedos was wrong. Chardin Sher was a far more subtle strategist than that I glanced at the large painting, and was about to pa.s.s on, when Maran said, "Well?"

I studied the picture more carefully, not sure what I was supposed to say. It showed a great house, more a castle, actually, sitting on the rocks above a river. The house was of stone, and I counted five stories, then the machicolated roof. On the river side jutted four-sided towers and on the one landward one I could see was a smaller round tower.