boots.,
‘You’re a nice boy,’ I told him, patting his cheek. Then I went on
down the muddy street toward the east gate of the city.
The Rat’s Nest tavern was aptly named. It was draped with
cobwebs and the floor needed shoveling more than sweeping. I
marched up to the wobbly, scarred counter. ‘Which one of these
drunken sots is Yarblek?’ I demanded of the fellow on the other
side of the counter.
‘That’s him over there in the corner – the young fellow who’s still
trying to sleep off what he drank last night. Are you going to kill
him?’
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘You’re the one they call Polanna, aren’t you? The word’s out that
you kill people just for looking at you.’
‘Nonsense. I haven’t killed a single person yet today – so far. Now
if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go over and have a few words with
Yarblek.’
It didn’t take much to wake Yarblek – a single creaky board,
actually. His hand flashed to his dagger-hilt before he even got his
eyes open. Then he looked at me boldly. ‘Have a seat, Dearie,’ he
invited, pushing out a stool with one foot. ‘You’re new here, aren’t
you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Would you like to have
me buy you something to drink?’
‘Aren’t you a little young to be frequenting taverns, Master
Yarblek?’ I asked, sitting down on the stool he’d offered.
‘I’ve never been young, Dearie,’ he boasted. ‘I was all grown up
the day I was born. ‘I was weaned on strong beer, and I killed my
first man when I was seven.’ And he went on – and on and on
boasting about how much he could drink, how many men he’d
killed, and how no woman could resist his charms. His expression
and his quick, easy laughter suggested that he didn’t really expect
me to believe all his lies, but rather that he was simply trying to
entertain me. All in all, I found him to be a shabby, boastful
adolescent, but I picked up a few hints that he was much shrewder than
he appeared to be on the surface, and I felt fairly confident that if
he didn’t make any serious blunders, he might actually live long
enough to reach adulthood, and that if he did, he’d be up to
whatever it was that he was supposed to do.
I’ll admit that the possibility that he’d eventually go into business
with Prince Kheldar and become one of the richest men in the world
never even occurred to me.
After a while, I grew tired of all his bragging. ‘You look tired,
Yarblek,’ I suggested.
‘Never too tired to talk with a beautiful woman,’ he said. The’,
his eyes drooped shut and he started to snore.
It probably wasn’t necessary, given his condition, but just to be
on the safe side, I erased his memory of our meeting – and that of
the man behind the counter as well.
‘Mother,’ I sent out-my thought as I left the Rat’s Nest.
‘Yes, Pol?’
‘I found Yarblek. He’s quite young, but he shows a lot of promise – if
he lives.’
‘I have it on very good authority that he will, Pol. Can we trust him?’
‘We probably shouldn’t, but I get the feeling that we can.’
‘We’ll be here for quite a while. You can look in on him from time to
time and see how he’s coming along.’
‘Who’s the other one I have to meet?’
‘The new king, Drosta lek Thun.’
‘How new?’
‘He was crowned in 5342. He’s about twenty or so now.’
‘We’re expecting help from the king of an Angarak nation?’
‘I’m not the one who’s making the decisions, Pol. You’re supposed to
talk with him and see if you can find out why he might decide to change
sides.’
‘Getting into his palace might be a little tricky.’
‘I think Gailak might be able to help us with that.’
‘Maybe. I’ll talk with him this evening and sound him out.’
My adjustment to the living arrangements in Gallak’s house was
probably more difficult than Gallak’s was. I was forced to keep
reminding myself that he believed that I’d been living under his
roof for six weeks and that he was used to having me around. ‘How
did your day go, Polanna?’ he asked pleasantly after supper.
‘About the same as usual,’ I replied. ‘I went down to the bazaar
to have a look at some of the shops I haven’t visited yet. I didn’t
buy anything, though.’
‘Do you need some money?
‘No. I’m fine. Have you ever met King Drosta?’
‘A couple of times, why?’
‘Just curious. What kind of man is he?’
‘Young. He might grow up some day – hopefully before he’s
eighty.’
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘His Majesty’s very fond of women.’ Gallak’s tone was
disapproving.
‘I don’t find anything wrong with that.’
‘I do – if it’s the only thing a man can think about. Our king can’t
seem to think of anything else. I doubt that he even knows the
names of most of his advisors.’
‘How stupid.’
‘He’s not really stupid, Polanna. Actually, he Is very clever – in
an erratic sort of way – but his brains shut down entirely when a
woman starts to dance. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the performance
of a good dancer as much as the next man, but Drosta starts drooling
before the dancer even gets started – and I mean he actually drools.
He’s an ugly young fellow to begin with, and the slobbering doesn’t
improve him very much. There’s going to be a new king on the
throne in Drasnia soon. and Drosta should be concentrating on some
new trade agreements, but his advisors can’t drag him out of
the brothels long enough to even meet with the Drasnian trade
envoys.’
‘Shocking,’ I murmured.
‘My feelings exactly. Can we talk about something else? Just the
thought of that lecher makes my skin crawl.’
That gave me something to think about, and the next morning
after Callak had gone off to swindle some people, I started to practice
my dancing. I didn’t need a roomful of men to clap out the beat for
me, since I could keep that in my head. I cleared some furniture
out of the way and mirrored one wall of the room with a single
thought. Then I got down to business. As I’d noticed when I’d
watched Ayalla dance, the key to a truly outstanding performance
is attitude, not the steps. By mid-afternoon. it was beginning to come
to me.
I practiced faithfully for two weeks. The major obstacle I
encountered had to do with flaunting. Some of the movements in Nadrak
dancing embarrassed me, and I knew that I was going to have to
overcome that if I hoped to give the kind of performance I had in
mind. Oddly, I found that dancing with my daggers clenched in
my fists helped enormously. When I held those Ulgo knives, I could
flaunt myself in ways Ayalla had never dreamt of. All I had to
do then was to come up with a way to suppress the blushing.
My dancing even shocked me. which was probably the whole
idea.
Winter came and went, and Callak and I settled into a Nadraks
sort of domesticity. He spent his days swindling customers, and I
spent mine practicing my dancing.
No, I wasn’t dancing just for the fun of it. Callak’s assessment
of King Drosta’s personality had suggested to me the perfect way to
get close enough to the Nadrak king to evaluate him. By spring, I
knew that if my dancing were only half as good as I thought it was,,
Drosta would be drooling bucketfuls before I was even half-way
through my performance.
As the snow in the streets of Yar Nadrak started to melt, I began
to feign a restlessness. Gailak and I had been sort of housebound
during the winter, and he readily agreed that a bit of social life
might be in order.
Social life in Gar og Nadrak is rather rudimentary, since about
all that’s involved is a visit to the local tavern. I don’t care much
for taverns myself, but this was business. Before we left the house,
I changed clothes. I suppose I could have given a performance
dressed in leather, but I don’t think it’d have had the same impact.
I sat with Callak at a table in the tavern called the Wild Boar. I
even drank a couple of tankards of the fruity-tasting Nadrak ale. I
was just a little nervous, actually. The other people in the tavern all
grew slightly tipsy, and along about mid-evening a young woman
who was the property of one of Gallak’s competitors in the fur trade
was urged by her owner to favor us with a dance. The tavern patrons
took up the clapping in unison, and the young woman began to