Masques (Sianim #1)(76)

"A kinder fate than he had in mind for you," Aralorn reminded him, examining the burns the sword had left on her hand. "He has as much chance of escaping from the Uriah as Astrid did. He may escape anyway. There seem to be a lot of secret passages around."

She smiled then. "You also eliminated the threat that his faithful followers would attack us after we killed the ae'Magi. He will either disappear, or be found mostly eaten by his former pets."

Wolf caught her hand and the burns disappeared from it, along with much of the dirt. Aralorn laughed softly and wiped her other hand on his cheek, showing him the smudge on it. "This time, you are almost as dirty as I am."

She caught his arm and tugged gently. "Come on. Let's go find Myr and let him know what's happened. Then I have to get back to Sianim and let Ren know that there is going to be a plaguing awful mess of Uriah running around that someone's got to clean up. If he works it right, Sianim stands to make a lot of gold off this."

Finis

The first baron of Tryfahr, Seneschal of the Royal Palace (also known as Hans the Smith), stepped into the kitchen to examine the food being prepared for the feast celebrating King Myr's formal coronation. Seeing the Seneschal slip into the kitchen, the Lyon of Lambshold, who currently held the title of Minister of Defense, decided to join him.

In the main kitchen, the cook who ruled there sprawled asleep in her rocking chair near the dessert trays, a nasty-looking wooden spatula in one hand. The new court taster stood silently near the stove.

The new cook was a marvel; the fowl had never been so moist, the beef so tender, and her sweets were beyond comparison. More wondrous still was that she was able to maneuver her bulk around (though no one but the hulking taster who lurked in the corner had ever witnessed it) and cook.

"So," commented Hans, "the mercenaries have offered to help clean up the Uriah."

"Aye," snorted the Defense Minister, "for a discounted rate, since their troops will be in the vicinity clearing the Uriah out of Darran as well. They've already cleared out the ae'Magi's castle." His hand crept out involuntarily to hover over one of the lacy sugar cakes.

"I wouldn't," muttered the Seneschal to the Lyon, nodding at the massive hand that was tightening around the spatula's handle though the cook's eyes had remained closed. He cleared his throat and remarked in a louder tone, "Likely they were hoping to find the ae'Magi in a state to pay them, but I heard that they couldn't find a trace of him anywhere." There was a trace of satisfaction in his tone.

The Lyon snatched his hand back and said absently, "Eaten, most likely, poor man. Sianim'll probably make the next ae'Magi pay them before they turn the castle over to - " He was interrupted by a shout from one of the pages who seemed to be taking over the castle lately.

"Hans! ... umm, excuse me ... I mean, my Lord. Myr ... uh, King Myr wants to know if the delegation from Ynstrah is here yet. He can't find them anywhere, though the gatekeeper says that they came in last night." The page stood at the top of the stairs, pulling at the velvet surcoat he wore.

"Tell him I'm coming, Stanis," grunted the Seneschal.

The Lyon gave a last look at the cakes as he followed Hans up the stairs.

When they were safely gone, the small, bright sea-green eyes of the cook opened, almost concealed in the folds of her face. She shifted her amazing mass out of the chair and waddled to the bakery trays. Taking a cake in her pudgy hand, she threw it to the guardsman who served as taster. He caught it easily despite the eyepatch he wore.

"I told Ren that we wouldn't learn anything at an event this size," she said. "There isn't enough privacy for any good plotting. The only thing that ever happens at a state occasion is an assassination attempt, but Myr has already hired Sianim guards to stop that."

The guard nodded his head - he'd heard her complaint more than once. He examined the little delicacy with his good eye before biting into it, saying, "You could have let him have the cake, Aralorn. They're easy enough to make." Another cake appeared in his hand as he spoke and he tossed it to Aralorn.

"I couldn't undermine the authority of the castle cook," said Aralorn in a shocked voice, while catching the treat with a dexterity that was out of character. '"Besides," she added, taking a bite of her cake, "this way they'll enjoy the two that Hans snitched even more."

Wolf sauntered to the dessert trays and saw that there were indeed three delicacies missing. "Should we tell Myr that his Seneschal is light-fingered?"

"Not unless he wants to pay for the information. You need to start thinking like a mercenary, Wolf." Aralorn licked her fingers. "By the way, where did you learn to cook like this?"

Wolf bared his teeth at her and said, his voice as macabre as always, "A magician needs must keep some secrets, Lady."