the area of land set aside for them and quarantined from the rest of the city. He found himself unwholesomely curious about them.
They turned a corner and entered a massive plaza. On one side of the square was a huge mansion, made from green-tinged stone, topped with emerald towers. Flags with the emblem of a mighty elf warship on them fluttered above the entrance. Gigantic lanterns set atop corner towers lit the entire street with a green-tinted light.
‘You’re home,’ said Korhien. ‘This is the Emeraldsea Palace.’
Tyrion felt overwhelmed by awe. The building was on the scale that he had imagined a city would be built. It looked large enough to house the population of an elven town, and unlike many of the surrounding buildings it did not seem deserted. Small armies of people seemed to come and go from it. Korhien caught his look.
He rubbed thumb and forefinger together. ‘Lothern is built on the wealth of its merchants. House Emeraldsea is one of the wealthiest of the merchant houses.’
He rode closer and spoke so quietly that Tyrion was not sure he caught the actual words, ‘And the most hated.’
Tyrion knew better than to ask about that now. He resolved that he would have some questions for Korhien later.
CHAPTER TEN
When they passed through the great gates of the House they entered a different world. Green paper-lanterns hung everywhere, illuminating a courtyard that contained a pool the size of a small lake. In that pool were fountains carved in the shape of dolphins and sea-drakes and other legendary creatures of the ocean. Around the courtyard, the mansion rose a full five storeys high.
Retainers in the livery of the House went about their business. Richly dressed elves strolled around discussing tonnages and rates of interest and market prices. Even though the hour was getting late, they conducted business with the intensity of farmers haggling over sheep at a morning market.
Tyrion had no idea what was meant. For all he knew these serious-looking elves could be discussing magic spells. Some of them paid attention to him, particularly the women. They stared quite openly. He smiled and was smiled at in response. The male elves noticing this sometimes glared, sometimes smiled knowingly.
‘I see you are going to be popular,’ said Lady Malene, riding close to him.
‘What makes you think that?’ he asked, although he already knew the answer.
‘I think you’ll find out for yourself soon enough,’ she said. ‘For the moment, let me enjoy your country-born innocence. I am sure the ladies here will.’
He was conscious of the fact that elf girls in Cothique considered him good-looking, but there was very little to compare himself to: his father, Teclis and the uncouth villagers. But he lacked the sophistication and polish of these city-bred elves. He was not nearly so well-dressed or so well-groomed. It had never occurred to him that the mere fact that he looked different might be considered a point of attraction, not a strike against him. It was something to bear in mind.
Live and learn he told himself. If he was going to survive and thrive here, he was going to have to, and he saw no reason not to enjoy himself at the same time.
Retainers helped the riders dismount, and led away their horses to the stables. The warriors who had escorted them noticed acquaintances around them and shouted greetings and went their separate ways. Soon, only Tyrion and Teclis, and Lady Malene and Korhien were left, standing together in a small group near one of the fountains.
Korhien looked around at them. He smiled broadly. ‘I must go soon and present myself to Finubar. He will want to know I have returned.’ He leaned forward and kissed Malene. He stretched out his hand and clasped Tyrion’s arm just below the elbow. Tyrion returned the gesture. He was surprised. It was the grip that warriors used for comrades and for friends. He bowed to Teclis and then turned and strode away.
Tyrion paused for a moment and considered what had just been said. He had known Korhien was a White Lion, but it was one thing knowing that and another hearing him speak so casually of reporting to Finubar. Tyrion wondered what he was going to tell the Phoenix King about himself and Teclis.
From under the arched walkway at the west end of the palace, Tyrion noticed a small group of extremely well-dressed young elves were studying him. They wore the long loose robes favoured by the upper class at leisure, all trimmed