The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,101

more duel with a peasant like you than I'd duel with dog dung on my boot. Duels are for noblemen. I'll just have my lackeys whip you. And if you go whining to Her Imperial Majesty about it, you won't live to make it to the border."

The men who watched laughed. Daja wrinkled her nose in disgust. Civilized Namornese my eye, she thought with disdain. They treat their women like property and outsiders like idiots. They deserve a lesson or two. She leaned on her staff with a smile and waited.

Briar looked over at her. "I can handle this myself," he said, eyes glittering in anger. "I don't need imperial protection — or yours."

Even a former street rat has his pride, Daja told herself. To Briar, she said, "I'm just here to take wagers, if he'll actually deign to trade blows with you." She looked at the other noblemen. "I'll bet gold that my friend hurts this kaq if it comes to a fistfight."

"You'll lose your money. We don't wager with Trader mage spawn," said one of the nobles.

The two closest to her kept their mouths shut as the others laughed. My neighbours fear my magic, not my staff, but it's still rather sweet of them to be scared, Daja thought. Aloud she said, "Oh — too bad, because I'm giving five-to-one odds on a fistfight between my friend and yours. You know Traders don't wager money they don't have." She looked at Olfeon and sighed. "I forgot. You won't fight a commoner, even bare-handed."

"You both need a lesson!" snapped Olfeon. He glared at the other men. "Bet, rot your eyes!" To Briar, he said, "When I leave you as jelly, get your friend here to pack you in a basket and send you home. Have we a bargain?"

Briar spat on his palm and offered it with an evil grin. It was a way for street rats to conclude a deal.

It was not the way Namornese noblemen sealed their oaths. Olfeon produced a handkerchief and let one end of it hang. "You may grab that," he said impatiently. "Wipe your hand, while you're at it." He pointed to Daja. "No magic from you, either. These two?" He pointed to two men. "They see that nonsense. The fight will be forfeit in my favour if they catch either of you trying it."

"Don't think much of mages, do they?" Briar asked. He gave the handkerchief a sharp yank, then retreated to take off his boots and stockings.

"Apparently not. Let me know if you want me to ignore the rules. For you I'll bash a couple of heads," Daja offered. Olfeon sat on a rock to take off his own boots and stockings.

"You were always the most commonsensical of my sisters," Briar said with a grunt as he worked a boot free. "If they kill me, just break their knees. They're not worth a death sentence." His second boot was off. Next he began to remove his knives, starting with the two he reached through the pockets of his breeches, and ending with the flat one that lay just below the nape of his neck under his shirt. There were eight in the pile when he finished, not including the pair he'd left in his boots. The nobles stared at the blades in shock. Briar continued, "Though, if you smack 'em on the head, the skull will cave in because there's nothing to hold it up, and then you can sell 'em to Her Imperial Majesty as planters."

Daja eyed the noblemen, who looked as if they would be glad to leap on Briar at this very moment. "Wagers, gentlemen?" she asked coolly.

She carried a small tablet and a stick of charcoal in a holder in an inner pocket of her tunic, in case she got the urge to design something. She used them now to record wagers, making sure each man wrote his name down clearly.

They were almost ready when she heard a familiar voice snap, "What is going on here?"

She looked up. It was that fellow Shan, the one who was the empress's current lover.

Olfeon, who had stripped off his coat and was rolling up his sleeves, glared at the newcomer. "Not your affair, fer Roth."

"Do you think she'll be gratified if you kill her pet gardener?" Shan demanded. "She'll be livid."

"For all I know, she'll be vexed with me if I dent one of her playtoys," Briar said.

"Silence, clodhopper!" snapped Olfeon.

Briar looked at Daja and sniffed. "He's so mean," he said