Born of Darkness (William King) - William King Page 0,9
to celebrate the arrival of the First Treasure Fleet. He wishes you to be his guests. Prince Taran has asked me to ensure you are provided with suitable garb. If you wish I shall return once you have dressed.”
Rhiana glanced up at him and smiled. She was as unselfconscious about nakedness as all of her people. “If we are just going to get dressed again, why bother? Bring in this suitable garb!”
The old man clapped his hands and a line of servant girls entered, each of them carrying ball gowns of blue and green and crimson and white. A line of serving men brought in sets of court uniform suitable for a nobleman.
Rhiana eyed the ball gowns and smiled. “I suppose being stuck here does have some advantages.”
***
Kormak studied his reflection in the mirror. He was not sure he recognised this grey-eyed stranger. The royal barbers had trimmed his hair. The royal tailors had adjusted his garments until they fitted perfectly. He wore a black and red tunic, with a white ruff covering his neck. His dwarf-forged blade hung at a black belt around his waist. His elder sign was visible on his chest.
A sheer green gown clung to Rhiana’s full figure. A circlet bearing a gold elder sign wound round her forehead. Another one dangled from her neck. Two pearl earrings hung from her ears. A stole covered her right shoulder and obscured a gill slit. She had insisted on wearing a dress that revealed them despite the objections of the seamstresses.
She turned so he could observe.
“Go on, laugh,” she said. “Pirate girl dressed up.”
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“You look like an assassin.”
“Alas it is my fate.”
“A very good-looking assassin.”
“Thank the Sun for that.”
“Shall we go and give the local gentry something to gawk at.”
“Why not? I live to provide novelty to the lives of the nobility.”
A servant waited outside the chamber to lead them to the ballroom.
CHAPTER FOUR
THROUGH A WALL of glass, the light of the sunstone illuminated the enormous ballroom. It fell on the statues of ancient kings standing on alcove pedestals. It picked out the hundreds of nobles and the servants who brought them drinks and food. It shone down on the corner where musicians played courtly songs.
As the pair entered, all eyes turned to look at Kormak and Rhiana. For a moment there was silence then the buzz of conversation started. As they moved through the crowds, Kormak picked out the words guardian and merwoman.
Frater Jonas came to greet them, garbed in his plain robe. As the son of peasants, he should have looked as out of place as they did, but somehow he fitted right in.
He glanced around with the assurance of an inquisitor and advisor to Kings. Many of the nobles present would not meet his gaze. Others glared at him once he was no longer looking at them. A few transferred their resentment to Kormak when they saw he had noticed.
“I am pleased to see you in attendance,” said Jonas. He glided past a tall noblewoman in a black dress and took a drink from a tray carried by a serving girl. With a nod he indicated they should do the same. Rhiana did. Kormak did not. “Come! Keep me company and I will endeavour to keep you entertained.”
Rhiana looked grateful to see a familiar face. Kormak moved into position on the other side of her from Jonas as he guided them through the crowd.
“See those richly garbed men off to starboard, to use an appropriately nautical term? Those are our bold captains newly arrived bearing the treasures of Terra Nova. The huge bear of a man they are talking to is Orson Waters— a commoner and aside from His Majesty the richest man in the kingdom.”
His gesture took in a group of gaudily garbed bearded men standing apart from the others. They looked self-conscious, calculating and tough. Most had the same dark skin and dark hair as Jonas. They glanced around with cool arrogance, ignoring the disdain of the golden-haired patricians. “Their shares of those cargoes will make them rich for life.”
Jonas’s nod indicated another group, this time garbed in black, blonde-haired, clean-shaven. “See the lynch mob of angry young man there, the ones clustered around the Duke of Albare? He’s the tall good-looking one with the broken nose—those are members of our Patrician faction. They disapprove of those who have acquired in one lifetime the wealth it took their forefathers generations to steal.”
Seeing them looking at him, the Duke moved