The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1. Андрей Кочетков

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Название The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1
Автор произведения Андрей Кочетков
Жанр
Серия Мастера прозы
Издательство
Год выпуска 2023
isbn 978-5-04-192887-2



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he was gone.

      Sorgius pushed his chair back. “Ladies, this will just take a minute!” he tossed over his shoulder as he raced after his friend.

      The two women cried foul. “You forgot to pay!” It was their first attempt at hunting for fat wallets among the ladies’ men of Enteveria, and they ended up having to pay out of their own thin purses for a jug of the most expensive wine in the house.

* * *

      “Keep up with him no matter what, even if he notices you. When he turns around, wave at him friendly-like. I’ll be on the other side of the street…”

      Sorgius looked doubtful. “What if he gets in a carriage and drives off?”

      But they were in luck. The dandy passed by the waiting carriages and hurried down the Avenue of Twelve Virtues, trying unsuccessfully to melt into the crowd. He turned around frequently to see if he was being followed, and soon caught sight of Sorgius. This sent him skittering into a side street. Sorgius ran after him.

      Again, he was in luck. The narrow lane was lined by high fences, and when the dandy finally found a gap and tried to slip through it, he ran right into a hulk of a man who threw him easily against the fence on his right.

      “Watch out, Sorgius!” Vordius called to his friend.

      His shoulder bruised, the dandy sized up the situation and pulled out a short dagger.

      “Stay back or I’ll draw blood!” he said hoarsely, his eyes darting from one to the other.

      “What is that you’re holding?” Vordius asked, hands on hips. “Civilians in the Empire are prohibited from carrying weapons of war…”

      “Let me go!” screeched their victim, waving the dagger.

      “…and I’m going to have to confiscate that from you,” the Imperial Guard finished his sentence.

      He leaped smoothly to one side, tossing his cape over the dandy’s head and easily knocking his feet out from under him.

      He picked up the knife while the dandy writhed in pain. “This isn’t good for much more than peeling apples, but you could put your eye out with it.” He stooped and retrieved his cape. “Now, what’s your name?”

      “Sermey,” the dandy whispered. “Senius Sermey. I have money,” he touched his belt. “Just let me go!”

      “Money is nice,” Vordius smiled, “but that’s not what I need from you.”

      Sermey’s eyes were as round as plates as he imagined all sorts of unpleasant things.

      “What I need is information,” Vordius continued in a conciliatory voice. “Now tell me, Senius Sermey, have you ever tasted a human eye?”

      Poor Sermey’s heart was racing so hard that it almost broke through his chest.

      “I see that you haven’t,” Vordius smiled and looked around in a stagey manner, as if to assure himself that they were still alone. “But there’s a first time for everything. There is a cocktail called Eyeball. You take an eye – yours, for example,” and he gestured with the knife, causing his victim to flinch. “You add two egg yolks, white wine, and a little salt. Do you know what you end up with?” he suddenly roared right in Sermey’s face. The man shook. His face was wet with tears, and the ground under him was wet with something else entirely.

      “You end up with something really stupid!” he spat in the man’s face. “Because a nice young man like yourself ends up missing an eye. And why?” he asked, turning to Sorgius with a predatory smile. “Because he was too stupid to tell to fine, upstanding men the name of his girlfriend.” He paused. “She’s about five fens tall, red hair, green eyes, and she has a mole on her left cheek.” Each word hit Sermey right between the eyes.

      “No, no!” he cried, his nose running. “She doesn’t have a mole. I swear it by the life-giving power of the Sun!”

      “No mole?” Vordius repeated joyfully. “Then give me her name, where she lives, and her parents’ names. Slowly and clearly!”

      Sermey wiped his face. “Her name is Fenia Brazelo. That was the only time I laid eyes on her, I swear!”

      “That’s too bad. I’m sorry for you,” Vordius sighed. “Your choice. Left or right?”

      “No, don’t! I beg you! May the Darkness take me if I’m lying!” Sermey was already foaming at the mouth. “The barber Taney brought her to the Fish that night. Ask him about her!”

      “Who is this barber?”

      “You don’t know Master Taney? He cuts the hair of many upstanding men,” the dandy tried timidly to gain ground.

      “I don’t have to know him if you do.” Vordius chuckled. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for him today when the Heavenly Deity sinks to its outermost palace. I’ll be in the Ravine of Divine Song, just a few steps south of the Old Grotto. Tell him he’s mixed up in an attempt to assassinate an important member of the government. If he declines to spend an evening with me, he’ll spend the next few years in prison. The one we call Heavenly Submission!”

      “I will tell him,” Sermey stuttered. “I’ll go right now.”

      He stood and righted his dirty robe.

      Sorgius turned to his friend with wide eyes. “I’m beginning to be afraid of you sometimes. This man is a nobody, but you worked him over like he was a black-hearted villain!”

      “May I have my knife back?” Sermey piped up.

      “Of course,” Vordius bowed. “I’ll lay it in your cold hands at your funeral. Now,” he barked, “get moving, scum! Or else this dagger will play havoc with your eyes…”“He’ll be here,” Vordius sneered.

      The ravine was an excellent place to watch the sunset, but the friends had more important things on their minds. As always, Sorgius had studied the situation from all angles and chosen the least pleasant possibility to discuss in an attempt to rile his friend.

      “We should have gone to his house…”

      “Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out, Sorgius! The dandy with the funny hair ran off as soon as you mentioned the girl, and that means he could smell his bacon frying!”

      “I know that,” Sorgius sighed and scratched at a spot on his chin he had missed while shaving. “I’m worried about who the girl is. She didn’t look like a courtesan, and you can trust my experience on that!”

      Vordius slapped his shoulder. “You certainly had time to look her over!”

      “You can laugh if you like, but I didn’t.”

      “What? Do you mean to say…”

      “I do. Everything went just as I told Sermey and his girlfriends back at the Song of the Star. It was the first time in my life I felt used by a woman, if you can imagine.”

      Vordius shook his head. “Well, you can cry about it if you want, but you’ll have another chance to win her heart once we find her.”

      “How kind of you!” Sorgius turned his head to look up the path. “I’ll let you talk to the scissors man on your own. I don’t like watching you torture people!”

      “Fine, if you’re that soft. Go sit in the bushes and wait until I call for you. Did you remember to bring what I asked for?”

      “I most certainly did,” Sorgius threw a canvas sack over one shoulder and walked off into the underbrush.

      Vordius stretched, rolled his shoulders, and strolled out from under the trees onto a bare patch of ground. Many years ago, before the opening of Enteveria’s central park, this place had been a popular spot for evening entertainment. Now, it looked wild and empty. When the young guard heard footsteps, he closed his eyes. “A man. Weighs about two hundred and fifty baklas. Short and stocky.” When he opened his eyes again, he was pleased to see that he had been right. All his eyes