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raspberries and flat crackers spread with truffled confit of duck.
"I have laid on a Patricien repast," Demick said, his face as calm as the
surface of a still lake, "in honor of Kami Dan'Shir's& experiment." He
gestured to a side-board. "I have gone to some trouble,
and hope it will be received with a portion of the gratitude that I have felt
for the generosity and good grace my hosts have shown me here at Glen Derenai,
as well as during my visits to Den Oroshtai."
Old Dun Lidjun bowed deeply, just shy of deeply enough for it to be a
burlesque and insult, men straight-ened, the long wrapped bundle still under
one arm.
"May I have someone help you with your& package?" Demick asked, as though he
hadn't a concern in the world.
"I thank you, but no," Dun Lidjun said.
Demick smiled and bowed him in, then greeted the two wizards and finally me.
"You honor us with your presence, Kami, Historical Master Dan'Shir," he said,
in the same tone, I
suppose, that he would have said, We're awfully gracious to treat your
bourgeois self as though you're a person
.
"I am, of course, grateful," I said, snagging a tall glass from one tray, and
a cracker from another. The juice was sweet and fruity, the confit salty and
heavy with garlic and sprinkled with thyme and orkan.
Demick merely smiled blankly, then turned to greet the next visitor, while I
headed for the sideboard.
Being clever makes me hungry.
Silver salvers held: small cubes of true Patricien ham, smoked according to a
secret recipe half a thousand years old; tiny, coppery oysters that grow only
in the mouth of the Demms, served on the half shell and topped with grated
horseradish and lumpy begret; a small mountain of peeled hard-boiled quail
eggs, each about the size of the first digit of my index finger, crowned with
a peppery cream sauce; a platter of quartered honeyed apples, per-haps a trace
of magic preventing them from browning in the air.
I smiled. Normally it was the condemned man who was provided the handsome
meal.
Of course, there could be some sort of&
I turned to Narantir, who was downing a handful of the quail eggs.
"Well?" he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "Well, indeed. If you were me, what question would you be
asking?"
"Any of a number," he said, "but not the stupid one you're thinking. Poison,
hagh
." He shook his head. "If there was any poison, would I be doing this?" He
bolted down another handful, then gave out a fragrant burp, then pointed at
the salver of steamed turnip hearts. "Although I would caution against those,"
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
he said, passing an amber amulet over one dish. He tucked the amulet back in
his sleeve. "The
Law of Appropriateness finds fault with the combination of honey and turnip,
no matter what Patricien custom says."
I looked away. Demick was still at the door, now greet-ing Esterling. The
trouble with Esterling, I
decided, was that he was just too pretty: his nose and jawline too sharp, his
features too regular and even.
To my right, Dun Lidjun frowned. "He seems too self-assured, even for Demick."
I shrugged. "It's just an experiment, a demonstration, Lord. Nothing of
consequence."
"Spare me your lower-class shtoi sarcasm," the old man said. "If you aren't
going to indulge me with an explana-tion, then keep quiet."
"Yes, Lord," I said. I guess I'd been spending too much time around Dun Lidjun
and was starting to take him for granted, because I heard myself saying:
"Those of us in the lower classes live but to obey."
Just as the skin over my spine went all damp and clammy, he nodded gravely.
"That is, of course, so."
I tried to let out my breath slowly. I guess not only the lower classes can
talk in shtoi.
Lords Orazhi and Toshtai arrived in company with Edelfaule and old Lady
Estrer, and a scattering of other lords. Orazhi's robes today were muted
pastels in mild greens and reds, matching the dour expression on his face.
Toshtai, on the other hand, was arrayed in robes of the brightest of yellows,
belted across his lavish belly with a crimson sash. A noble is never without
his sword, and Toshtai's dagger was stuck through the sash.
Arefai was the last to arrive, ViKay clinging to his arm as though she were
frail and helpless. Lies come easily to our beloved ruling class.
I made sure my smile was simply pleasant as they ap-proached me. "A
demonstration awaits, Kami
Dan'Shir?"
"More of an experiment, Lord Arefai."
He clasped my shoulder with a grip that was strong but not punishing. "I know
that we can count on you," he said.
ViKay smiled at me. "I am sure of it, as well," she said, her voice perhaps
half a tone too husky for safety.
Arefai didn't catch it. "You are ready?"
I nodded.
"May I?" he asked.
"Please."
Arefai cleared his throat loudly. "Kami Dan'Shir is now ready to begin his&
tentative experiment,"
Arefai said. "He thought it might be of interest to the lot of us. On be-half
of myself and my future wife, it is my& pleasure and honor to thank Lord
Demick for graciously offering his rooms for this purpose."
Demick's smile was even broader than Arefai's. "It's as nothing. I've even
prepared a small entertainment of my own."
Falling on your sword in shame
? I wanted to ask.
Demick gestured to me, palm up. "Our attention is yours, Kami Dan'Shir."
I bowed. "I thank you, Lord Demick. Ladies, Lords," I said. "I've asked Lord
Dun Lidjun to serve as a bowman this evening. As someone who has, of late,
achieved some success in shooting, I think it's fair to say that he's a
com-petent one."
Dun Lidjun had already unwrapped the bow and arrow from his package.
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