Tigana by Guy Kay (novel24 txt) 📕

was addressed, as it happened, directly to Devin. His throat was dry; her glance did disruptive things to the orderly flow of messages from brain to tongue. He essayed a smile, suspecting rather that the expression produced fell somewhere between the fatuous and the imbecilic.

Wine, Devin thought desperately. He was in serious need of an effective glass of something.

As if summoned by an art of timing more subtle than wizardry three servants in blue livery reappeared, each bearing seven glasses on a tray. Two of the trays, Devin saw, bore a red wine that was almost certainly Certandan.

The wine in the third set of glasses was blue.

Devin turned to Alessan. The Prince was looking at Alienor with an expression that spoke to something private and shared far in the past. For a moment her own expression and demeanour altered: as if she had laid aside for an instant the reflexive spinning of her webs of enticement. And Devin, a far more perceptive man than he had been six months before, thought he saw the hint of a sadness in her eyes.

Then she spoke and he was certain that he’d seen it. In some subtle way it calmed him, and shed a different, milder light on the mood in the room.

‘It is not a thing I am likely to forget,’ she said softly to Alessan, gesturing towards the blue wine.

‘Nor I,’ he replied. ‘Since it began here.’

She was silent a moment, eyelids lowered. Then the moment passed. Alienor’s eyes were sparkling again when they lifted. ‘I have the usual collection of letters for you. But one is very recent,’ she said. ‘Brought two days ago by a very young priest of Eanna who was terrified of me the whole time he was here. He wouldn’t even stay the night though he only arrived at sunset. I swear he rode out so fast he must have feared I’d have his robe off if he lingered for a meal.’

‘And would you have?’ Alessan grinned.

She made a face. ‘Unlikely. Eanna’s sort are seldom worth the trouble. Though he was pretty. Almost as pretty as Baerd, come to think of it.’

Baerd, quite unperturbed, simply smiled. Alienor’s glance lingered flirtatiously on him. There too, Devin noted. An exchange that spoke to events and things shared a long way back. He felt young suddenly, and out of his depth.

‘Where is the new message from?’ Alessan asked.

Alienor hesitated. ‘West,’ was all she said. She glanced at the rest of them with a veiled question in her eyes.

Alessan noted it. ‘You may speak freely. I trust every man and woman here.’ He was careful not to even look at Erlein. Devin did look, but if he’d expected a reaction from the wizard he was disappointed.

With a gesture Alienor dismissed her servants. The old seneschal had already withdrawn to see to the preparation of their rooms. When they were alone Alienor walked over to a writing-table by one of the four blazing fireplaces and claimed a sealed envelope from a drawer. She came back and gave it to Alessan.

‘It is from Danoleon himself,’ she said. ‘From your own province whose name I cannot yet hear or say.’

And that, Devin had not expected at all.

‘Forgive me,’ Alessan murmured. He strode quickly towards the nearest fire, tearing the letter open as he went. Alienor became very busy offering glasses of the red wine. Devin took a long drink from his. Then he noticed that Baerd had not touched his wine and that his gaze was fixed on Alessan across the room. Devin followed the look. The Prince had finished reading. He was standing rigidly, staring into the fire.

‘Alessan?’ Baerd said.

Alienor turned swiftly at that. Alessan did not move; seemed not to have even heard.

‘Alessan?’ Baerd said again, more urgently. ‘What is it?’ Slowly the Prince of Tigana turned from the flames to look at them. Or not really at them, Devin amended inwardly. At Baerd. There was something bleak and cold in his face. Ice is for endings, Devin thought involuntarily.

‘It is from Danoleon, I’m afraid. From the Sanctuary.’ Alessan’s voice was flat. ‘My mother is dying. I will have to start home tomorrow.’

Baerd’s face had gone as white as Alessan’s. ‘The meeting?’ he said. ‘The meeting tomorrow?’

‘That first,’ Alessan said. ‘After the meeting, whatever happens, I must ride home.’

GIVEN THE SHOCK OF that news and the impact Alessan’s words and manner had on all of them, the knock on Devin’s chamber door late that night came as a disorienting surprise.

He had not been asleep. ‘Wait,’ he called softly and struggled quickly into his breeches. He pulled a loose shirt on over his head and padded in his stockings across the floor, wincing at the cold of the stones where the carpeting ended. His hair disordered, feeling rumpled and confused, he opened the door.

In the hallway outside, holding a single candle that cast weird, flickering shadows along the corridor wall, was Alienor herself.

‘Come,’ was all she said. She did not smile and he could not see her eyes behind the flame. Her robe was a creamy white, lined with fur. It was fastened at the throat but Devin could discern the swell of her breasts beneath. Her hair had been loosened, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back in a black cascade.

Devin hesitated, his mouth dry again, his mind scattered and lagging. He put up a hand to try to straighten the hopeless tangle of his hair.

She shook her head. ‘Leave it like that,’ she said. Her free hand with the long dark nails came up and pushed through his brown curls. ‘Leave it,’ she said again, and turned.

He followed her. Her and the single candle and the unleashed chaos of his blood down a long corridor then a shorter one, through an angled sequence of empty public rooms then up a curving flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs an orange spill of light came from beyond a pair of open doors. Devin passed through those doors