. ings. The pressures of patrolling the hateful town slipped away like a heavy
cloak, allowing him to look forwards to an uninterrupted meal in pleasant
company.
‘Perhaps you could speak to Tempus? We needn’t like each other, but if he could
find another target for his taunts, it would do much towards easing my hatred.’
Zalbar shot a wary glance at his comrade, but detected none of the blind anger
which he had earlier expressed. The question seemed to be an honest attempt on
Razkuli’s part to find a corn-promise solution to an intolerable situation.
‘I would, if I thought it would help,’ he sighed reluctantly, ‘but I fear I have
little influence on him. If anything, it would only make matters worse. He would
redouble his attacks to prove he wasn’t afraid of me either.’
‘But you’re his superior officer,’ Razkuli argued.
‘Officially, perhaps,’ his friend shrugged, ‘but we both know there are gaps
between what is official and what is true. Tempus has the Prince’s ear. He’s a
free agent here and follows my orders only when it suits him.’
‘You’ve kept him out of the Aphrodesia House…’
‘Only because I had convinced the prince of the necessity of maintaining the
good will of that House before Tempus arrived,’ Zalbar countered, shaking his
head. ‘I had to go to the prince to curb Tempus’s ill-conduct and earned his
hatred for it. You notice he still does what he pleases at the Lily Garden – and
the prince looks the other way. No, I wouldn’t count on my influence over
Tempus. I don’t think he would physically attack me because of my position in