Agatine (Terres book II)

Chapter Twenty Four

Armand sat at the end of the large wooden table, trying to avoid Seltus' eyes. The man still ran an unpleasant shiver down his spine, like a cracked egg over his scalp. Seltus raised a thin hand and one of the men serving food skittered to a back room. He returned a moment later with a pitcher full of wine, which he poured into Seltus' glass without looking at the other people at the table.

Armand noticed that the man's hands shook slightly as he poured the glass, and he winced as a bit of it spilled onto Seltus' robe, staining the blue fabric with a splotch of purple. Seltus shot the man a disgruntled look. He flew from the room as Seltus dabbed at the spot with a cloth napkin.

The room was so grandiose it was disgusting. A huge crystal lantern hung from the ceiling, sending pinpoints of rainbow light scattering around the room. The table was set with an array of dishes so massive that Armand had scarcely believed it when he sat down. There was roast pheasant and huge hanks of bread, and a selection of fruits and nuts that Armand did not even know the name of. In fact, for a brief time, he'd worried the food had been poisoned, but forgot about the notion entirely when Jonah sat down and began eating with no such reservations.

"I wanted to thank you all for joining me," Seltus said. He knitted his long fingers and stared across the table in a way that gave Armand uncomfortable memories of Aegan. 

"Not a problem," Jonah replied as he sipped from his glass of wine. He looked as at home as a jackal in a henhouse. It made Armand squirm. He picked at the grouse on his plate and put a small piece of it in his mouth to distract himself from the other people at the table. He wondered how often these dinners happened, and if they were always so presumptuous.

Darius nudged him with his elbow. Armand looked up and he inclined his head toward Seltus. The man sat with his chin in his interlaced fingers and a smile on his face.

"I asked you if you lived your entire life in the caravan," Seltus asked. Armand nodded.

"Since I was two or three," he said. "I don't remember before that. My parents died and my brother took us there. One of the--" He swallowed down the words before they came out and he revealed too much information. It made his heart ache. He wondered how many times he would tell this lie before it started to sound like the truth. "One of the merchants took us in. We mostly had food and a place to sleep." 

"Fascinating," Seltus said. "And where is your brother now?"

"Dead," Armand responded. His hand clenched around his fork as he picked over the meat on his plate. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. He could see the look Griffon would give him, if he could see where he was now. The anger in his eyes that would fade and be replaced by utter disappointment. He wanted anything to bring him back, so they could travel together and everything would be okay, just like it always was.

"I'm sorry," Seltus said, in a tone that made Armand suspect he didn't actually care at all. Armand shrugged and went back to his food, hoping that putting a piece of it in his mouth would make Seltus stop talking. No such luck.

"It must be hard, being on your own. I'm sure you miss your brother. I had a brother once upon a time, a vile man, but I still loved him. He threw himself to the beggars in the city and died of too much drink. Shame. He could have been something spectacular. How did he die?"

Armand bristled like a cat and grabbed his goblet so hard he was concerned he might crush it. Darius put a hand on his shoulder as if reminding him to behave himself. None of the sellswords had ever asked him about his brother before. About how he'd died, or how he'd gotten to the caravan. About how Griffon was a guardsman and how he'd died because Armand was stupid.

"He fell and hit his head," he said. "He was tying a camel that didn't want to be tied and it got away from him. He fell and smacked his head on a rock."

"Shame," Seltus said dryly. He took another sip from the wine and turned to Jonah. "Delightful conversation, gentlemen, but we have business to attend to. About the brothel. Have any of you thought of a plan?"

"I paid one of the shipmen to go inside and see what we're up against," Jonah said. He let out a short laugh. "He got a little too friendly with one of the girls. One held a knife to his neck and threatened to slit his throat, but they didn't have any other weapons. It's not much of a worry. I'm confident we can take the place with a few men."

"Good, good," Seltus said, nodding approvingly while he looked around at everything but Jonah. "Do you need my assistance, or will you five be enough? I'm not sure Oliver is good for much of anything, but it is your call."

Oliver's face went scarlet, and Armand felt a sudden pang of sympathy for him. He watched as Oliver sank down into his chair so far that Armand worried he might disappear under the table. He pushed a hand through his golden curls and took a sip out of his wine goblet. Armand caught his gaze and his eyes went wide and worried for a moment before he returned to staring at his food.

"Armand's a good swordsman, whatever Oliver can't take he can handle." Jonah gave Armand a hard look. Armand bit the end off his bread roll and tried to look like he didn't care much as Jonah looked away again.

"Are you sure you have enough?" Seltus asked.

"We have five good men, I'm sure we can do on our own. We don't need to sack the whole place, just take enough into custody that you can get some information out, correct?"

"That is correct," Seltus said. He sawed off the leg of his pheasant, took a bite, and talked around the pieces. Armand tried not to look at the bits of juice running down his chin. "I'm worried, Jonah. If the prostitutes get any more power, it'll be as bad for you as me. Do you think they're going to hire you out when they have most of the city officials in their pockets? You won't be needed anymore."

"True," Jonah said. He eyed Seltus, and Seltus stared back. Armand got the distinct impression that this was a contest, and one in which there would be only one winner. Seltus smiled, then set his fork across his plate. "But what's in it for me? I can just move to another city when this one doesn't please me."

"I will pay you ten times your normal wage if you bring back at least three of them for me," Seltus said. "Marion, and the one with the green wings who thinks she has more influence than she really does. The third I don't care about, just make sure she's not new. I need to know who from my side has been feeding them information."

"Done," Jonah said. 

Armand got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't want to know what Seltus planned to do to those women, or how he intended to make them talk. He shot a pleading look at Oliver, who reddened and sank down in his chair again. Armand tried not to let his hands shake and continued eating his grouse like nothing had happened. 

He didn't listen to the rest of the murmuring around the table. Occasionally he exchanged a glance with Oliver, or one of the servants came to refill his water and ask if he wanted a different wine, since he hadn't touched any. Seltus didn't ask him any more questions, and he was glad for it. He wasn't sure how many lies he could spin before some of them started to run into one another.

Eventually Jonah stood up and shook hands with Seltus. He went down the line and shook hands with Darius, then Itah and Oliver, until eventually he got down the line to Armand.

"Terribly sorry about your brother," he said. His eyes were like ice, but Armand forced himself to look at him.

"Yeah," he said. Then they descended the stone stairs and emerged out onto the street. The soft glow of oil lamps greeted them from all around, and Armand sighed as the dinner party's tension left the air around him. Jonah grabbed his shoulder harder than necessary and leaned over into Armand's ear.

"Remember what we talked about," he said, in a voice too low for the rest of them to hear. Armand swallowed and nodded.