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30 Saun, Arc 719
Why Lord Holbret was on the search for a home, any reasonable answer eluded Llyr when he walked through the garden gate. Past an outdoor corridor, he followed the skulking Etzori until they reached a beautiful courtyard. It was small, but far from modest. Palms trees rustled in a faint breeze that came through the open arched spaces. In the center of lush grass, a stone fountain bubbled with clear and fresh water. Llyr stared at it, surprised by the sight. He had to send Oceta to gather them water every morning and evening from the nearest cisterns and only after a long line of other people to get access to it. The fountain looked as if it were merely there for birds to flit about.30 Saun, Arc 719
The birds that perched on the stone edges were even above the class of crow or pigeon. They had vibrant plumage of reds and yellows and greens, many of them reminded Llyr of the birds he’d seen while living in the southern jungles. Except these birds didn’t look about ready to peck his eyes out. They cooed and trilled, hopped around with ease and the faintest flutter of their feathery wings.
“M’lord,” said the lanky Etzori with a bow so low that his leather crinkled audibly at the bend in his waist. It didn’t appear mocking either. He glanced at Llyr, threw another disconcerting smile, then left the way they’d entered the courtyard.
Llyr was happy to see the other young man go. He brushed off his black work attire and shook his head in slight bemusement at the thought of how he’d been brought to the home. His thought accidentally slipped off his tongue, “You could have sent a proper invitation.”
“Oh? I apologize for however Danny must’ve offended,” said the Rynmerian lord. “He has a gift when it comes to insulting my guests, but then he knows this city well and is a good lad otherwise. I’m certain you understand.”
“Mm.” Llyr crossed his arms and glanced over the courtyard. Across the space, he saw a pair of women chatting between two stone pillars. One had lush golden blond curls set primly around her slender figure. The other looked Etzori with her pitch-black hair and darkened tan skin but he noticed pointed ears. Another biqaj? They both wore wisps of colorful silks with the slightest transparency that could be seen whenever a beam of sunlight crossed over them.
“Care for some wine?” asked Lord Holbret.
“It’s morning,” said Llyr in slight disbelief. He forced his attention away from the women.
“And it’s white wine,” replied the older biqaj as if that were a defense. “From the very foothills of Andaris.”
“No, thank you.” Llyr watched as the lord poured a glass goblet full of clear liquid. It had little bubbles that fizzled to the top. “I need to get to work. I could already be fired for being so late, let alone if I arrived drunk.”
The lord glanced up, an amused quirk of his lips. It seemed he wanted to say something, but instead he lowered his gaze and said, “Oh tut, they need you more than you need them.”
Llyr folded his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. Acutely, he felt the women looking at him with their mouths hidden behind their palms. What were they saying? Did they notice how ill-fitting his work attire was? How it bunched at his shoulders awkwardly and didn’t flatter his legs? He tried to focus on the lord instead, but that was hardly any better.
Lord Holbret settled into one of the outdoor chairs, filigree swirls of polished metal, and he crossed his legs. His eyes were a pale green color and he seemed to be measuring Llyr as if measuring a possible tree to include in the courtyard. He held the goblet of wine loosely in hand, then gestured to the chair next to him. “Sit, sit.”
“I’d rather stand, if it doesn’t insult,” replied Llyr.
“It would.” He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice, “What would my ladies think if the first guest I entertain this morning doesn’t even find the grace or friendliness to sit with me? Let alone drink with me! Why, they would reconsider their valuation of me. Judge me to be an awful bore rather than the charming man I’ve tricked them into believing I am.”
Llyr stared at the lord for a few trills, then slowly slid into the chair next to him.
“Ah, that is kind of you,” said Lord Holbret with an easy smile. He looked over to the women and raised his goblet in a gestured toast to them.
The ladies whispered behind their hands for a few trills more, then disappeared around a corner and into the interior of the estate. Llyr felt both glad and disappointed they’d left.
“So,” said Holbret with a wave of his hand to gather Llyr’s attention. “Do you enjoy your work at Trust and Fair?”
“Yes,” answered Llyr without hesitation. He folded his hands in his lap.
“Ah, and you have no ambitions above such tedious tasks?”
“That is forward of you.” Llyr frowned slightly. “Of course I have ambitions above scribe work.”
“Yet scribe work is all that you do?” Holbret sipped his wine.
Llyr paused, then nodded. “I am fortunate for the job. It is relatively peaceful.”
“You seek peace in your work?” A lilt of surprise sounded in the Rynmerian’s voice. “Your accent, where is it from? I can’t quite place it.”
“Quacia, Your Lordship.”
“Ah, Quacia, of course. I should have guessed that.” He leaned to the side in his chair and looked toward the fountain. “Always wanted to visit south. My wife is from that region. She misses it when it’s hot out like this, or so she claims. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to live where the air hangs off you like swamp mud. Can you?”
“I… well…”
“Of course not. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Come North to get away from that overgrown muck of a land. But a scribe… a scribe… I must admit, after I noticed you, I have asked around.” He raised a hand to interrupt anything that Llyr might have said at that moment. “Only good things to be said, I assure you. But it strikes me as odd that you’ve remained at the Inn for Dinner since… late Ymiden was it? Seems a long time to remain at an inn on a scribe’s wages.”
Llyr wished he hadn’t sat down at all. He frowned and said, “What do you mean?”
“A scribe doesn’t often have the means to keep up more than a few trials at that sort of establishment. Let alone a biqaj who for all I can figure out, is a foreigner utterly alone except for the young slave of his. Why, by now, most of your type would’ve squirreled away in some shabby room along the Outer Perimeter if they even managed to settle a foothold at all. Suppose Etzos has eased for the moment. I can't blame you for taking advantage of it. Anyone without a rotted mind would. If the war pans out, there's immense gain to be grasped here.”
“How w-…” Llyr stopped himself. His frown only darkened. “Why is it that you asked me here? To tell me that I should be living elsewhere?”
“Would you like a home of your own? A house inside the gates? How about this one?” He gestured around the courtyard and the small estate that surrounded it. “Or mayhaps you might like a job more suitable to you. If you could do something for me, I’m certain I might find you a position within my own dealings.”
“Do something for you?”
“Yes, there is some information kept in Trust and Fair’s records that I need access to. Of course, clients aren’t allowed in the basement… but employees are.” He sipped the wine, then set the goblet on the table between them.
“You’re asking me to steal records?” asked Llyr.
Lord Holbret leaned backward and perched his fingers in a steeple. He crossed his legs and said, “You’re a scribe, so that’s all I’m asking. Copy down what you read. No stealing required, none at all.”
Llyr crossed his arms. He chewed on his lower lip.
“It’s only a request,” said the man. He drank a silent sip of wine.
“How much?”
“How much would you expect?”
Llyr arched a brow. He tapped his fingers against his elbow, then said, “I could lose my job if caught. That would be however many wages I would get… perhaps six hundred gold?”
The older biqaj nearly choked on his wine, except he was too composed for that. He swallowed and lowered the goblet. “You do not make that much…”
“I could,” said Llyr keenly, a glint in his eyes. “There’s lots of opportunities, lots of positions open… but if I get caught for stealing documents for some foreign silver-blood like myself, how many opportunities do you think will be there for me? It’d only leave me with you, however much you’d pay, if that. What was it you said? Immense gain or something...”
Lord Holbret glanced over him. He turned the goblet around slowly.
“Perhaps, that considered, it should be eight hundred,” mentioned Llyr.
“Three.”
“Seven.”
“Four.”
“Six.”
“Five.”
“Five,” agreed Llyr.
They stared at each other. Holbret’s eyes were a cool gray-green. Llyr’s were ice-blue.
“Please,” said Holbret. He stood and picked up the decanter of wine. The man poured another goblet full and said, “Drink with me.”
Llyr watched the pale white liquid fill the cup. It didn’t look drugged… the lord had drank from the same decanter. His heart quickened a slight beat too fast… He had hiked across Etzos from the eastern shore to the western border during the sweep of plague, to the Prime city while under siege, and then some... Yet now he felt a deluge of adrenaline that sent the blue of his eyes to vivid red.
He stood so quickly that his chair fell and he jostled the edge of the table.
Holbret had to pull back to keep from spilling the wine. The lord asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
Llyr blushed, cheeks dusted in silver-blue. He grabbed the chair and set it back. “I-I’m sorry. I… no, I have somewhere to be. I’m sorry, sir… lord. I’ll… I’ll…”
“I don’t mean to keep you,” said Holbret. “If you have somewhere to be, then you are free to go. Danny.”
The thin Etzori in leathers walked out from around the corner. He said, “'is way, right.”
Llyr glanced between them, then he nodded. He bowed to the biqaj lord. His heart felt a terrible pattering against his chest. “Apologies.”
“Perfectly alright. Danny will provide you with a list of which pages we require. Here,” he reached under the table, then set a box on the surface. He opened it and inside laid a quill and a pen on a bed of velvet. “These are your’s. Take it as a token of our future arrangements. The quill may write on any surface, any at all, and if you will inscribe the notes with the pen then none will see the writing unless they wish to. I’ll send for you in five trials time. You will have the copies ready by then, Llywelyn.”
Llyr hesitated, then he agreed, “I shall. Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Holbret.”
