he drew in a sharp breath as he felt the stirring in the earth beneath
them, a slow and sullen vibration, deep within the stone-a reflection of the High Lord's anger.
Fidelias assumed a casually confident stance and reacted as though Aquitainus had acknowledged him. He clasped a fist over his heart and bowed.
There was a long silence before Fidelias heard Aquitainus's reaction. The man let out a low and relaxed laugh that echoed throughout the nearly deserted hall. Fidelias straightened again, to face the High Lord, careful to keep his expression schooled into neutral respect.
"So," Aquitainus purred. "This is the infamous Fidelias Cursor Callidus."
"If it please Your Grace, Cursor no longer."
"You seem rather unconcerned with my pleasure," Aquitainus noted, with a droll roll of the hand still clasping the dancing girl's cloth. "I almost find it disrespectful."
"No disrespect was intended, Your Grace. There are grave matters that require your attention."
"Require... my... attention," murmured Aquitaine with an elegant arch of brow. "My. I don't think I've been spoken to in that fashion since just before my last tutor took that untimely fall."
"Your Grace will find me a good deal more agile."
"Rats are agile," sniffed Aquitaine. "The oaf's real problem was that he thought he knew everything."
"Ah," Fidelias said. "You will not face that difficulty with me."
Aquitaine's dark eyes shone. "Because you really do know everything?"
"No, Your Grace. Only everything of importance."
The High Lord narrowed his eyes. He remained silent for two score of Fidelias's quickening heartbeats, but the Cursor refused to let his nervousness show. He took slow and even breaths and remained silent, waiting.
Aquitaine snorted and drank off his remaining wine with an effortless flick of his wrist. He held the goblet out to one side, waited a beat, then released it. The blocky man beside him reached out a hand, snake swift, and caught it. The stranger walked to the table on the dais and refilled the goblet from a glass bottle.
"My sources told me that you had a reputation for insouciance, Fidelias," Aquitaine murmured. "But I had no idea that it would be so readily forthcoming."
"If it please Your Grace, perhaps we might table this discussion for the moment. Time may be of the essence."
The High Lord accepted the goblet of wine from the stranger, glancing at the pretty slave, now kneeling on the floor before him, head bowed. Aquitaine let out a wistful sigh. "I suppose," he said. "Very well, then. Report."
Fidelias glanced at the stranger, then at the slave, and then at the hanging curtains. "Perhaps a more private setting would be more appropriate, Your Grace."
Aquitaine shook his head. "You can speak freely here. Fidelias, may I present Count Calix of the Feverthorn Border, in service to His Grace, High Lord of Rhodes. He has shown himself to be a shrewd and capable advisor and a loyal supporter of our cause."
Fidelias shifted his attention to the blocky man beside the High Lord's seat. "The Feverthorn Border. Isn't that where that illegal slaving operation got broken up a few years ago?"
Count Calix spared the former Cursor a thin-lipped smile. When he spoke, his voice came out in a light, rich tenor completely at odds with the heavy power evident in his body. "I believe so, yes. I understand that both the Slavers Consortium and the Dianic League gave you commendations for valor above and beyond the call of duty."
Fidelias shrugged, watching the other man. "A token gesture. I never was able to turn up enough information to bring charges against the slave ring's leader." He paused for a moment, then added, "Whoever he was."
"A pity," said the Count. "I imagine you cost someone a great deal of money."
"Most likely," Fidelius agreed.
"It could give a man good reason to hold a grudge."
Fidelius smiled. "I'm told those can be inimical to one's good health."
"Perhaps I'll put it to the test one day."
"Should you survive the experience, be sure to let me know what you learned."
Aquitaine watched the exchange, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. "I hate to interrupt your fencing, gentlemen, but I have other interests this evening, and we have issues to discuss." He took another sip of wine and waved at the other chairs on the dais. "Sit down. You, too, Aldrick. Should I have someone carry Odiana to her chambers so that she can rest?"
"Thank you, sir," Aldrick rumbled. "I'll keep her with me and take care of her later, if it's all the same to you."
They settled down into chairs facing Aquitaine. The High Lord gestured,