Chapter 9

“Crimson!” Queen Adrianna Victorious cried out.

“Crimson!” came the resounding call around the hall as men and women surged to their feet.

North, who was standing against the wall with his arms crossed, took note of who answered the challenge. Glancing at the very back, he saw Bordo making the same assessment. After order was restored, North returned to his seat. To Yasin, who he now addressed as Ambassador, he begged off an appointment until other more urgent matters were in process. To Sir Germaine to his left, he asked the knight to begin the protocols of procurement for a small expedition. The man gave him a slightly arched brow and then a quiet nod.

“Have you heard the term ‘sclerosis?’” Sir Germaine asked as he rose from the table. “It means the tissue and the organs have been rendered inflexible and stiff. The Court is unusually sclerotic these days. Give me three weeks.”

The Back and Down was accessed down a short flight of stairs at the back of a building for which North had not learned the name. The tavern offered an ale, a beer, and several types of hard liquor with little else. The place was complete with stools, several chairs, tables, a never-ending card game and two musicians playing a mandolin and an assortment of wind instruments. North joined his comrades at one of the back tables that no one challenged or dared to ask, “Is this seat taken?”

One of the queen’s female personal bodyguards had a seat open next to her. North sat down and said, “Nice scar. Needs a tattoo to complete the scene though.”

She gave him a long look. “What tattoo would you as a connoisseur recommend?” She was not asking politely.

“Either the god that saved you or the god that pushed your head in the way,” North said with grin. “Bless the god; you’re here to tell the tale.”

“Here, here,” the rest of the table answered, all of them raising their mugs.

North stared back at her. “North, Fifth regiment.”

“Fianos, First regiment. Let me see your mage’s glove.”

Fishing it out of his pocket, North laid the glove on the table and slid it over. Fianos examined the glove and then using her fingernail, flipped the glove over. “Where’s the power stone? I don’t see a slot even.”

“Lord Aegis provided the glove,” North explained. “He told me that I was not trained enough to handle a powered glove. I’m only beginning to learn that my lord was not entirely truthful with me.”

“You’re a natural talent, then,” she said.

“He’s got to have something in his favor, Fianos,” Alomar said from across the table. “The gods didn’t bless him with good looks. Or luck with cards. Or taste in women for that matter.”

The laughter went around the table and back again. North snatched back his glove and tucked it away. Taking a long draw of his mug, he eyed the rest of the room and its occupants. Most were staff and young members of the Court. Next to him was a table of ten or so officers, none of whom were mages.

The conversation around the table swirled with gentle and shallow topics. Puns were allowed and reminiscing was not. Several drank until they were deep in their cups, but as North surveyed the room again, many were merely working their way downward into their cups. He finished his second tankard and stood up. “First thing tomorrow on the practice field, gentlemen. The gentlewoman is welcome to join the fun if she is able.”

“Sir Germaine...,” she began before North interrupted her.

“ ... has new duties assigned to him on top of his regular ones,” North said. “His time on the practice field will be limited for the time being. Crimson.”

“Crimson,” they responded.

Alomar took his elbow as North threaded his way through the tavern and out into the night. Silently, they walked in the near darkness until they came to the brick walkway that was lit with glow stones suspended from thin stanchions. Alomar took a moment to look in both directions and listen for anything that would betray a presence.