Chapter Thirty-One: The Esparan Lord
In which Ian reveals his identity to Lord d'Tarjian.
Ian gaped at the pronouncement from Lord d’Tarjian. Crimes against the Esparan crown? What in the name of Bachi’s teeth could he have done? “My lord,” he called, stepping forward to stand next to Ursula. “I beg a word.”
d’Tarjian lifted one gray eyebrow. “The emperor’s lord of treasury does not speak with common merchantmen.”
Ian mustered his courage. Igraine wouldn’t hesitate. “Does he speak with Eiryan royals?”
d’Tarjian’s mouth curved into a frown. He set his goblet on the edge of the balcony. “You?”
Ian bowed. “Ian Mac Roy, Prince of Eirya and Duke of the White Isles.”
d’Tarjian inclined his head. “Your highness. Forgive me for my lack of hospitality.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at the prison guards. “Return the ambassador to his cell until I’ve had time to speak with his highness. You—escort the prince and our other guests to my study.”
The men bowed and scurried to obey. Xian cast one hopeful glance in Ian’s direction before the guards pushed him into the corridor to the prison cells. Another guard bowed quickly to Ian and led him toward the other side of the prison. Ian followed him, gesturing to Ursula and Donal to attend him. They won’t object now that they know who I am.
The guard led them through long stone corridors, further and further from the prison yard. The furnishings became progressively more lavish, and servants and slaves alike walked the halls with bundles of laundered silks and trays of rich food.
The guard finally stopped outside a set of gilded doors. Two more guards dressed in red and gold woolens and thick leather armor over shoulders and calves stood with spears crossed before the doors. Ian’s escort gave a command in Esparan, and the guards moved their spears and snapped to attention. The escort opened the door and ushered Ian in.
Ian had grown up privileged, and the Citadel was well-furnished and amply supplied with everything he could desire, but nothing he had at home compared to Lord d’Tarjian’s rooms. Helene’s villa was opulent. Lord d’Tarjian took the word opulent and gilded it, wrapped it in silk, and set it on a marble pedestal. Everywhere Ian looked he saw ebony, cedar, precious metals, thick carpets, marble, silk, and all of the trappings of great wealth. He swallowed hard. I miss the ship.
Lord d’Tarjian walked into the room from another door and approached Ian. “Your highness,” he said with a slight inclination of his head. “I beg your forgiveness. Had I known a foreign royal graced my shores, I would have seen to a proper welcome for you.”
“I thank you, Lord d’Tarjian,” Ian said. “But this is by no means a state visit. I came with a merchant ship and had no expectation of a formal welcome.”
The slight curve of the Esparan lord’s mouth gave Ian the sense of being appraised by a snake. “Please,” he said, gesturing to a table heaped high with meat, cheese, olives, wine, fruit, and every Esparan delicacy. “Eat and drink, your highness. And your . . .” He appraised Donal. “Guard, is it? He is welcome to share in the Esparan bounty.”
A young woman in a silver collar and nearly transparent silks brought Ian a goblet of dark red wine, and another set a tray of cheese, salted meat, fruit, nuts, and breads on a low table near Ian. Ian took the goblet and sipped. “A man who feeds his guests shares in the joy of the earth’s provision,” he said.
d’Tarjian raised a goblet. “A lovely sentiment. Yours?”
“An old tribal saying from Taura,” Ian said. “It reflects their belief that they are guests of the earth.”
d’Tarjian nodded and gestured to several plush cushions. “You wish to intercede for the ambassador, I assume?” he asked as he settled himself onto the cushions. His robes fell open in front, revealing a well-muscled build. The Esparan Chancellor of the Treasury clearly didn’t confine himself to papers and coins. “I fear there’s nothing I can do. He’s been tried and found guilty in an Esparan court.”
Ian sat. “He’s been in Eirya for two years. How could he have been tried?”
“In absentia.”
“So you’ve convicted him without allowing him to defend himself?”
“He had a defender.”
“Who?”
A slow smile slithered across d’Tarjian’s face. “I am not unknowledgeable in the law, your highness.”
It took a moment for Ian to understand. “You defended him? You were his accuser and defender?”
“I did not accuse him. The crown did. I merely offered testimony in his defense.” He sipped his wine. “Admittedly, there wasn’t much to offer.”
Ian let out a long breath. “What were his crimes?”
d’Tarjian set down his goblet. “Tell me again, highness—what is your interest in the ambassador?”
Be careful. “He served his country in Eirya for the last two years. My father asked me to escort him home when his government recalled him.”
The Esparan lord inclined his head. “And did he mention why his government recalled him?”
“He only said he had to rotate back to receive a new assignment from the diplomatic corps.”
d’Tarjian’s eyes settled on Ian’s for an uncomfortable length of time. Ian forced himself to meet the lord’s stare, despite his racing heart. Be calm. You’re not the one in danger here. You’ve done nothing but try to help your friend. He suppressed a grimace. Then why do I feel like a caged rabbit preparing for the cudgel?
d’Tarjian finally motioned a guard to his side and spoke in low tones. The guard nodded and left the room. “I’m intrigued by your friend’s selective memory,” d’Tarjian said. “He seems to have neglected to mention his debts.”
“He told me he has debts—that he owes you money.”
A cool chuckle escaped the lord’s throat. “Money. Do you think this is about money, highness?” He leaned forward, and his eyes hardened. “He owes a debt of blood. He provided his government information about military activities. Esparan men died as a result.”
Ian tried not to gape. “He spied on Espara?”
d’Tarjian nodded.
“Then why was he so certain that money would placate you?”
d’Tarjian gestured to the door. “Perhaps he can reveal his reasoning when he arrives,” he said. “I’ve summoned him to attend us.”