Renegade's Magic (The Soldier Son Trilogy #3)

“So we do not go to Kinrove now, shaking our fingers in humility and groveling to him. No. We go to let him see that he has a rival, and to demand his respect from the very beginning. Nevare must bear himself as a contender if he is to be seen as one He cannot be seen as desiring too much what Kinrove offers him. He must accept it as if it is natural and perhaps less than what he expected.”

“But—but the food, and the steaming waters and the oil rubs and soft beds!” The boy spoke in a longing whisper and his mouth hung half ajar with wanting.

“We will go. We will enjoy those things, but we will not appear surprised by them or appear to enjoy them too much,” Soldier’s Boy directed him.

Olikea suddenly looked a bit less pleased. “I am not sure we should take him with us. The boy is too young for such things. And there are dangers in Kinrove’s camp, sights that I do not think he should see. Perhaps it would be best if he remained here. When the servants come to clear the dishes—”

“Likari will go with us. And he will be seen as one of my feeders, and treated as one of my feeders, with honor and respect.”

“What will they think of you, having a youngster in such an important position?” Olikea objected.

“They will think,” Soldier’s Boy replied heavily, “that I am a Great One who does things differently. One who has a different vision and would lead the People in a new direction. Now is not too soon for them to become accustomed to that idea.”

The tone he used effectively put an end to the conversation. Olikea sat back slightly and considered me as if she had never seen me before. Perhaps, I thought to myself, perhaps she knows now that it is not Nevare she speaks to, no matter how she names him.

The table servants reached us. We rose then, but slowly, stretching and telling one another what an excellent meal we had enjoyed. Olikea was very particular as she spoke to the servants who would carry our possessions. They had brought a beast of burden as she had charged them. It was a strange animal to my eyes, dun colored, with toes rather than hooves, a skinny body compared to a horse, a drooping sad face and long flopping ears. I heard her call it a quaya. When she was satisfied as to how they had loaded our possessions, she left them and walked ahead to our lantern bearer.

“You may guide us now,” she told him.

He gave us an uncertain look, as if he could not decide whether to be haughty or humble. When I got closer to him, I realized that although he was as tall as a grown man, he was still a youth. Soldier’s Boy frowned. Olikea was right. There was a slight insult in that they had not sent any full-fledged adult with the invitation.

Our bearers had brought their own lanterns, so Olikea deigned that Kinrove’s lantern carrier would walk well ahead of us. I think it was so that she could converse freely without worrying that he would eavesdrop.

He set an easy pace, perhaps because he was accustomed to the unhurried gait of a Great One. We followed, and once we had left the loose sand of the beach we struck a surprisingly good track. It was level and wide enough for a cart, let alone pedestrians.

“Are not you going to thank me?” Olikea asked after we had gone some small ways. Likari had fallen behind, fascinated with the quaya and its handler, so they had a small measure of privacy.

Her tone had made it plain that he owed her thanks for some special feat of cleverness. “For what would I be thanking you?” Soldier’s Boy demanded.

“For making Kinrove take notice of you so swiftly.”

Soldier’s Boy felt a prickle of surprise. “It was my intent that he notice me. For that reason only, I came here to trade.”

“And not because you might find yourself shivering in the cold as soon as the rains of winter began, of course!” Then she dropped her sarcasm and said, “No matter what you brought to trade, Kinrove would have remained aloof to you. No. It was not what we traded with or what we bought, but what we refused to trade that brought this swift invitation to meet him.”

He did not need to think long. “The Ivory Babe. The fertility charm.”

Olikea smiled smugly in the darkness. “Kinrove has six feeders. Six. But of them, there is only one who has been with him since the beginning of his days as a Great Man. It has taken her much work to remain his favorite and to keep his attentions to herself. But Galea grows older, and she has never borne him a child. She knows that if she does not soon produce the baby that he desires, he will turn to another feeder, to see if she cannot serve him better. She grows desperate with her need to become pregnant in order to keep his favor.”

Soldier’s Boy slowly processed this thought. “So we are invited tonight not because Kinrove wishes to meet me but so that his feeder can find a way to persuade you to give her the Ivory Child.”