A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness #1) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,209

the King of the Union have to fear in his own palace? And yet he looked scared now, his face had lost all colour and there was a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

‘Let the boy have his fun,’ said Bayaz, mildly. ‘We all were young once, eh? Even if, in my case, it was a very long time ago. In due course, he will learn how the world really works. Just as you did.’ And with a smile, the First of the Magi turned away.

‘You shouldn’t indulge that old fool,’ grumbled Orso.

‘You weren’t there.’ The king’s fingers dug painfully into his wrist. ‘When the Eaters came. You didn’t see … what he is capable of.’ His eyes had the strangest, haunted look. ‘You must promise me never to defy him.’

Orso tried to twist his arm free. ‘What are you talking about—’

‘You must promise me!’

‘A word, Your Majesty!’ called Bayaz, and with one backward glance, the king hurried after the magus like a dog called to heel. Orso took another swallow of wine, then turned back towards Savine, still laughing with the Young Lion.

He would have been furious with her, but he could no more hate her than a drunk can the bottle. He would have been furious with Leo dan Brock, but he had done nothing wrong, the horribly but justifiably vain, magnificently manly, utterly superficial bastard. He was doing exactly what Orso would have done in his place, only looking like a hero while he did it.

The only person in this triangle of misery he could reasonably be furious with was himself. He had ruined it all, somehow. By being too backward, or too forward, too slow or too fast or too something. He knew most people scorned him utterly, but for some reason, though she was the cleverest, bravest, most beautiful woman in the world, she had not. He had let himself believe that she loved him. But it was just another trick. A trick he had played on himself.

‘Women,’ he muttered, helplessly.

‘I know,’ came a voice beside him. ‘Fucking bitches.’

It was that Northern girl. The Dogman’s daughter, Rikke. He had seen her from a distance and thought she looked interesting, with the wild hair and the twitchy gestures and the total lack of usual propriety. Up close, she was a great deal more interesting. She had, for some reason, a heavy gold ring through her nose, and some streaks of dark paint on her freckled face, and a beguiling hint of cleavage showing among a rattling mass of necklaces and talismans that included a rather wonderful and entirely incongruous set of emeralds. But most of all it was her eyes, big and pale and piercing. He felt as if she saw right into him, and wasn’t repulsed by what she found there. Which was welcome, because he certainly was.

Hell, he was drunk.

‘Is it wrong of me …’ he said, mangling the words and not much caring, ‘to say I find you fascinating?’

‘Not at all.’ She gave a haughty sniff, that thick gold ring shifting. ‘You’re a man, you can’t help yourself.’

Despite his attempts to be the tragic hero of his own life, he could not help laughing. ‘It has been remarked upon.’

He had always been the most wretched judge of what he needed, but what he needed right now might be the woman who was least like Savine in the world. And here, as if by magic …

‘I sometimes think no one in this city can tell the truth for three breaths together.’ He waved his glass at the room and slopped some wine onto the tiles. ‘But you seem … honest.’

‘And so funny.’

‘And so funny.’

‘Who the hell are all these bastards?’

‘Well … he’s the court clockmaker. And she’s a famous actress. That bald idiot is a legendary wizard, apparently. I’m told that woman there is a Styrian spy. One of the ones we pretend not to know about.’

Rikke sighed. ‘I’m like an angry chicken trying to pass myself off among swans.’

‘I’ve tried swan, as it happens. Thoroughly mediocre meat, once the feathers are off.’ She might not have worn lady’s clothes but without doubt there was a woman’s shape underneath, and one he found not the slightest fault with. ‘A good chicken, on the other hand …’

‘A man of taste, eh?’

‘It has been remarked upon.’

‘I’m told you’re the heir to all this.’

‘A sad fact.’

She puffed out her cheeks as she glanced about the Hall of Mirrors. ‘All this wealth and flattery must be … such