“We should all be as drunk as possible whenever possible.” Tunny whisked a glass from a passing tray. “In from the Union, my lords?”
“From Angland,” said the bird. “You?”
“From Adua,” said Orso. “Business?”
“Of a sort,” grunted the lion as the dealer handed him the dice with a slightly pained look, as though it hurt to let go of them. “You?”
“Business. And my sister lives in the city.” Orso lowered his voice. “Took the opportunity to palm my mother off on her. I love the old bird but she won’t stop going on at me to marry.”
“You should.” The lion tossed the dice and brought up four and six, to false delight from the girls about the table. “Married myself not long ago. Had my doubts but it’s been the best decision of my life.” The bird winced and turned away. “Haven’t looked back.”
“She’s licked you into shape!” The unicorn blew a little bubble of snot as he laughed.
“I suppose it all depends on finding the right woman.” Orso gave a long sigh. “Thought I had her. But she slipped through my fingers somehow.”
“You should work on your grip.” The lion tossed the dice one more time.
“Pair of sixes,” droned the dealer, and swept an armload of chips over while the girls cooed as though throwing one number rather than another was quite the achievement.
Now the greeter whispered something in the lion’s ear and he stepped away from the table, straightening his jacket. “Best of luck with your business. And with your mother.” He frowned over at his friends. “I’m sure you three will keep busy while I’m gone.”
The whale grinned over at the bird. “I daresay we can think of something.”
“Lovely,” muttered Tunny, out of the corner of his mouth, as he watched the man stride away with the slightest limp.
“Real charmer.” Orso scooped up the dice and tossed them bouncing across the table.
“One and three,” said the old dealer. “Player loses.” In much the same emotionless tone as he might have announced a win.
Orso sighed as he watched the chips gathered up. “Why is it always the bastards who get all the luck?”
“Winning teaches you nothing,” said Tunny. “You see what a man really is when he loses.”
Jappo mon Rogont Murcatto—Grand Duke of Ospria and Visserine, Protector of Puranti, Nicante, Borletta and Affoia, not to mention King of Styria—sprawled on a velvet chaise in front of a mural of winged women floating naked from a sunset sky and looked very pleased about it. His Suljuk silk gown trailed open to show his muscular stomach, complete with a streak of thick black hair.
A young man dressed in the style of a Gurkish slave-boy had been leaning close to light the king’s pipe. Now he swaggered over to Leo, sinewy body dusted with glitter. “Can I get you anything? Anything at all?”
“No!” snapped Leo. King Jappo’s preferences were well known, but he’d never dreamed they’d be so proudly displayed. Leo had always preferred the company of men, but not in this way. Not at all in this way. He certainly wouldn’t have boasted about it, if he’d been a pervert. Which he wasn’t, of course. He just… found it hard to get excited unless his wife slapped him.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he managed to grate out.
“I was here anyway.” Jappo sprawled back and puffed brown smoke rings. “You’re the one who’s crossed a sea.”
Not the best start. “It was my wife’s idea. Like most of my good ones.” Yes, keep it light. Charm the bastard, like Jurand had said.
“Alas, I have not met your wife, but by all accounts she’s a very shrewd woman.” Jappo shook his fist. “Very tough.” He stroked his shining gown. “Very beautiful. I love to surround myself with beautiful things. But women?” He held up a wobbling hand and made a sound like nyeh. “Mixed feelings. Hope you’re enjoying Cardotti’s.”
“Well—”
“No doubt you prefer the battlefield!” Jappo swung his bare feet down and sat eagerly forward, hacking at the air with his still-smoking pipe. “You want to mount a horse rather than a lover, grip an axe instead of a bottle and have the screams of the dying for music! Am I right, Young Lion? Eh? Eh?”
“Well—”
“Chagga?”
“I like to keep a clear head.”
“I like mine stuffed with delicious dreams.” And Jappo stuck the pipe back between his teeth and puffed away. “Come sit.” And he patted the chaise beside him.
Leo pointedly took a chair opposite. By the dead, he wished he hadn’t turned down those drinks now. He couldn’t have been less comfortable. But a man shows his quality when circumstances are against him, his father always used to say. Where was the glory in easy victories?
“So tell me, Young Lion, why did your wife send you here?”
“She didn’t send me…” Had she, though? “I mean—”
“Your wife told her friends who told my friends who told me that you’re building a grand alliance! That if I were to hop aboard we could drag relations between Styria and the Union out of the bog. That after so many unprofitable wars we could forge a peace that would be the envy of the world.” Jappo grinned over. “Anything to it?”
“Well…” Leo struggled to force his mind back onto the script. “The only real dispute we have is King Orso’s claim on Talins. His false claim, that is—”
“I think it’s quite a solid claim.”
“What?”
“His grandfather was Grand Duke of Talins, then my mother murdered him and his sons and stole the city. My lawyers would no doubt differ, but if you’re asking me, Orso has a much better claim to the city than I do. But then I have it, and I’m not handing it over, and every time the Union tries to take it from me, my mother gives you quite the spanking. So when it comes to claims…” And he twisted his face and made that nyeh sound again.
“Well… yes. I’m saying we wouldn’t try again. We’d give up the claim. I’m not interested in Talins. Only the Union.”
“Indeed.” Jappo’s expression was hard to gauge because of the mask. “The Union interests you so much, you want to steal it.”
Leo worked his mouth. “I want to free it.”
“I once heard a pickpocket use that defence about some purses he’d liberated. They still cut his hands off.”
“Our quarrel’s not with King Orso, but with his Closed Council. Their arrogance. Their corruption. They’re dragging the nation into the sewer!”
“And who is involved in this noble scheme to free the Union from its king’s chosen councillors?”
Leo paused a moment, mouth half-open.
“Come, come, Young Lion. You can’t expect me to join a club without knowing the quality of the other members.”
Probably Leo should have kept his cards close, but the man’s constant look of slight scorn was beginning to grate on him.
“Myself and all the Lords of Angland. Lord Isher, Lord Heugen, Lord Barezin and fifteen other chairs of the Open Council, though I’m sure more will join us, they’re all chafing under the Closed Council’s yoke—”