Forge of Darkness (The Kharkanas Trilogy 1)

‘Your rooms are awaiting you,’ he said as they rode towards the gate. ‘If they are not to your liking, be sure to inform me at once and we will see it put aright.’

‘Thank you, captain. That is most kind. It is a most imposing house, rising so above the walls.’

‘The Lord brought wealth with him when he took up residence.’

‘Whence did he come?’

Ivis shook his head. ‘Even we who serve in his household are not certain of that. Chosen as heir by Lady Dracons, a cousin she said. In any case,’ he added, ‘he served well in the wars — no one can deny that. Well enough to earn the regard of Mother Dark.’

‘A most loving regard, I have heard.’

‘As to that I cannot say, milady. But it suits us well to think so, does it not?’

She studied him briefly, as if uncertain as to his meaning, and then smiled.

Ahead, the gates had been opened and they rode up the track and then into the shadow beneath the heavy lintel stone. Ivis saw Sandalath frowning up at the unknown words carved into the stone, but she ventured no query, and then they were through, riding into the courtyard, where servants and grooms clustered in waiting and voices rose in greeting from a half-dozen Houseblades arrayed in a line. Ivis frowned at the presentation — in his absence, discipline had slackened and he reminded himself to plug the ears of this sorry lot once the hostage was inside.

Dismounting, he passed over the reins to a groom and moved up to help Sandalath down. It seemed her frailty had come upon her again, sudden as a chill, and the relaxed ease she had revealed on occasion during the long ride vanished. Once she was on her feet, servants drew up to fuss over her.

‘Milady,’ said Ivis. ‘The head of the house-servants now serves you in the absence of Lord Draconus. Hilith, present yourself.’

The elderly woman so named had been standing back, close to the stone steps fronting the house, and now she stepped forward with a stiff bow and said, ‘Hostage, we welcome you to this house. I see the journey has wearied you. A bath is ready.’

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‘Your rooms are awaiting you,’ he said as they rode towards the gate. ‘If they are not to your liking, be sure to inform me at once and we will see it put aright.’

‘Thank you, captain. That is most kind. It is a most imposing house, rising so above the walls.’

‘The Lord brought wealth with him when he took up residence.’

‘Whence did he come?’

Ivis shook his head. ‘Even we who serve in his household are not certain of that. Chosen as heir by Lady Dracons, a cousin she said. In any case,’ he added, ‘he served well in the wars — no one can deny that. Well enough to earn the regard of Mother Dark.’

‘A most loving regard, I have heard.’

‘As to that I cannot say, milady. But it suits us well to think so, does it not?’

She studied him briefly, as if uncertain as to his meaning, and then smiled.

Ahead, the gates had been opened and they rode up the track and then into the shadow beneath the heavy lintel stone. Ivis saw Sandalath frowning up at the unknown words carved into the stone, but she ventured no query, and then they were through, riding into the courtyard, where servants and grooms clustered in waiting and voices rose in greeting from a half-dozen Houseblades arrayed in a line. Ivis frowned at the presentation — in his absence, discipline had slackened and he reminded himself to plug the ears of this sorry lot once the hostage was inside.

Dismounting, he passed over the reins to a groom and moved up to help Sandalath down. It seemed her frailty had come upon her again, sudden as a chill, and the relaxed ease she had revealed on occasion during the long ride vanished. Once she was on her feet, servants drew up to fuss over her.

‘Milady,’ said Ivis. ‘The head of the house-servants now serves you in the absence of Lord Draconus. Hilith, present yourself.’

The elderly woman so named had been standing back, close to the stone steps fronting the house, and now she stepped forward with a stiff bow and said, ‘Hostage, we welcome you to this house. I see the journey has wearied you. A bath is ready.’

‘That is most kind,’ Sandalath said.

‘If you will follow me?’ Hilith asked.

‘Of course.’ Sandalath stepped forward, and then paused and turned back to Ivis. ‘Captain, you have been a most courteous escort. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure, milady.’

Hilith instructed two maids to lead Sandalath inside, and then quickly stepped close to Ivis. ‘Captain,’ she hissed, ‘her title is hostage and nothing else. You accord her a title that does not belong to her, not yet in her own house, and never in this one!’

Ivis leaned closer, as if to hint at a formal bow of acquiescence. Instead, he said, in a low tone, ‘Old woman, you are no queen to so command me. I will choose the honorific our guest deserves. She rode well and without complaint. If you have complaint, await the pleasure of our lord upon his return. In the meantime, spit out that sour grape you so love to suck on, and be dutiful.’

‘We shall return to this,’ she said in a rasp. ‘As you said, I am in charge of the house in our lord’s absence-’

‘The servants, maids and cooks, yes. Not me.’

‘It is unseemly, this twice-used hostage-’

‘For which the hostage is not to blame. Now, be gone from this courtyard, where my command holds reign, and if any rumours return to me of your gnawing misery set upon the hostage of this house, we shall indeed return to this.’

He watched her stalk off, and then he glanced across to see a row of grinning Houseblades. ‘Smiling, are you? Now isn’t that a pleasing sight? Comportment so slovenly I nearly choked in shame to see you. Let us see, shall we, how fare those smiles in the course of double drills. Straighten up, you dogs! Eyes forward!’

The servants struggled with the travel chest as they carried it into the room. Looking round, marvelling at the vastness of the chamber that was to be her quarters, Sandalath gestured to one wall. ‘Set that over there. No, do not open it — the only clothing I will use is in those saddle bags — terribly creased by now, I should imagine. They will need cleaning.’ This last detail she addressed to the two maids standing before her. Both women, younger than Sandalath by a few years, quickly bowed and set to unpacking the saddle bags. The other servants retreated from the room.

A moment later Hilith entered, glanced once at the rumpled clothing now appearing from the dusty leather bags, and then faced Sandalath. ‘Hostage, if you will accompany me, we shall see to your bath.’

‘Is the water hot? I prefer it hot.’