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Furnael dyed the mustache, too? A bit of self-honesty? Or was it just that
whatever dye they used here would have stained his lip?
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"Baron." Karl bowed slightly, Fialt, Tennetty, and Chak following suit.
Aeia glanced up at him, looking ready to break into tears. Strangers often
affected her that way.
Particularly male strangers. Which was understandable.
"Easy, little one." He smiled. "I think it's time for your nap."
She nodded and ran away, her bare feet slapping the flagstones.
Furnael smiled. "A pleasant child. Yours?"
"No. But in my care. She's a Mel. I'm not."
"So I see." Furnael turned to the armsmen at his right and snapped his
fingers. The armsman produced a bottle of wine, and uncorked it with his teeth
before handing it to Furnael. "A drink for luck?" Furnael asked, his voice
making it clear it was more a command than a question. He tilted back the
bottle and drank deeply. "Zherr Furnael wishes you luck, friend." Smiling
thinly and wiping his hand on a purple silk handkerchief he produced from a
sleeve, Furnael handed the bottle to Karl. "Enjoy."
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In the Eren regions, a drink for luck was a custom that was invariably
followed by an introduction, whether the drinkers already knew each other or
not. Typically, a drink for luck would take place between two strangers
meeting on a road, the provider of the wine drinking first to assure the other
that it was unpoisoned.
The fact that Furnael had suggested ordered a drink for luck in a situation
where the custom wasn't really appropriate was suspicious. The fact that his
arms-man had an opened bottle ready was more so.
Karl drank deeply. The rich, fruity wine was icy cold. "Karl Cullinane thanks
you, Baron."
Furnael's smile broadened. "So. I was wondering if it was you, in this
company; it's said that you travel with a Hand cleric and another warrior from
a land called Seecaucuze. Not a Mel child and a Katharhd."
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Secaucus was Walter's hometown. So it was only
Baron Furnael
131
known that Karl had been traveling with Doria and Walter. Which suggested that
someone had seen the three of them at the cesspit when Karl had freed Ellegon,
or that some spell had been able to look back, into that time and place. But
how would anyone on this side have known that Walter came from New
Jersey? Slovotsky hadn't mentioned it, as far as Karl knew.
Probably Walter had mentioned it to some local, at some time, and that local
had talked to someone else about the stranger he had met, and someone in
Pandathaway had started putting two and two together.
That didn't sound good at all. Too damn many unknowns.
"There has been a price on your head for more than a year, friend Karl,"
Furnael said. "It seems that
Pandath-away wants you."
Chak started to edge toward his sword; one of Furnael's armsmen, hand near the
hilt of his shortsword, moved between the little man and the tree where Chak's
falchion hung.
Even if Furnael meant them harm, this wasn't the right time to do something
about it. The odds were poor, with the wizard right there, behind Furnael.
"Stand easy, Chak," Karl said. "Stand easy. That goes for you, too," he said,
holding up a palm to forestall any move by Tennetty or Fialt. "I don't think
the Baron is out to collect the reward."
Furnael spread his hands. "You are wanted in Pandathaway, friend Karl. This is
Bieme. And here we have no love for the Guilds Council." He gestured at the
wizard who stood behind him. "Sammis, here, once was a guild master, studying
daily in the Great Library. Today, he uses his death spells to kill
corndiggers;
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Guild, forced to flee Pandathaway."
"What'd he do, give out a spell for free?"
Furnael cocked his head to one side, his forehead fur-rowed. "How did you
know?" He shrugged. "In any case, 132
THE SWORD AND THE
CHAIN
it is fortunate for you that my Prince is neither allied with Pandathaway nor
particularly hungry for coin,"
he said, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Even if you are as good as
they say, we do have the advantage."
"That depends on how you look at it, Baron."
Ahira's voice came from the balcony above.
About time.
Karl glanced up. Beside Ahira, little Aeia stood, the spare crossbow held
clumsily in her arms, leveled at one of FurnaeFs armsmen.
Ahira held his own crossbow easily, the bolt lined up not on Furnael, but on
the wizard. "Aeia can't cock the bow, but she can put out a sparrow's eye at
sixty paces."
Karl suppressed a smile. Aeia could probably hit a cow five at paces, if the
cow was big enough. The little girl tried hard, but she had no talent for
bowmanship at all.
Ahira. went on: "And I'm not too bad with a crossbow, myself. We're generally
peaceable folk. How about you?"
As usual, Ahira had picked his potential target cor-rectly. If the wizard
opened his mouth to use a spell, Ahira could put a bolt through his back
before the first words were fairly out.
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Karl folded his arms across his chest. "You were saying, Baron?"
Furnael smiled broadly. "Again, very pretty, sir. I was saying that I must
have a word with my chief man-
at-arms; he didn't tell me about the others, just you. And I was also saying
that you simply must be my guests at dinner, at my home. We dine at sundown.
And . . ." Furnael let his voice trail off.
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"And?"
"And, as long as you break no law, harm no one, do not offend my Prince, you
are safe here. Within my barony, at least. You have my word on that, Karl
Cullinane."
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