Masque of Death (Kormak Book Nine) (The Kormak Saga 9) Read Free

said.
    “What? Some barbarian hillman comes strolling into my office and starts lecturing me on protocol. What is the world coming to? I won’t do you the honour of cuffing your cheek, sir. I will have the servants beat you and throw you out.”
    “That would be most unwise,” said Orson. His manner was amused and conciliatory.
    “And why do you say that, Goodman Waters?”
    “Because the Guardian here is high in royal favour, having saved the King-Emperor’s life.” He let that sink in then added, “Also he might slaughter your servants.”
    “Is that so? Is that so?” The Governor’s bluster started to fade. He looked around the room, alternately staring and blinking. His companion had stopped giggling. She was looking at Kormak wide-eyed.
    “It is indeed so,” said Orson. “And if your servants are foolish enough to attempt such a thing, I will give them a good trouncing myself.”
    The Governor stared at Orson. Fear flashed momentarily in his eyes. It was quite clear this proud aristocrat was terrified of the merchant. Did Orson have so much power here, Kormak wondered. It was good to know. He would be a dangerous enemy.
    The Governor covered his mouth with his hand and coughed. He put down his goblet and said, “Forgive me, Captain, no, Admiral Zamara. You catch me at a moment when I have overindulged in rather too much mushroom wine. They say it makes men argumentative and boorish and I, it would seem, am living proof of the fact. And you, Guardian, please treat my cloddish outburst as a momentary failure of tact. Any man who has saved the life of the King-Emperor is deserving of nothing but gratitude and the greatest respect.”
    The Governor’s features became placid. His manner courtly. It was like watching a man put on a mask. The effect was only spoiled by a sudden attack of hiccups. “Ezra, please bring me some water,” said the Governor. “And some refreshments for our guests. Where are my manners? I seem to have left them the same place I left my sense of decorum.”
    He sat down in his chair. His aim was slightly off, and he caught the edge of the seat and almost toppled. He grimaced, looked at the chair as if he wanted to challenge it to a duel and slumped down into it. A moment later his eyes were closed, and he was snoring.
    “Perhaps we had better come back in the morning,” said Zamara. “Things might go better then.”
    “That might perhaps be the most tactful course, Admiral,” said Ezra. “I can, if you wish, have chambers prepared for you.”
    Zamara shrugged. “That would be good.”
    Kormak and Rhiana agreed. Orson said, “I have my own home to go to, and perhaps a costume to get changed into. It may well be that I will see you all later. But if I do not, and it’s possible since things can get chaotic on nights like tonight, enjoy yourselves.”
    “I’ll do my best to take that advice,” said Zamara.
    Ezra barked curt instructions to passing servants. They moved none too steadily to obey. Within minutes, the new arrivals were shown into guest rooms, which looked as if couples had been hastily thrown out of them, and the windows thrown open for them to be aired. The sweet slightly rotten scent of the gardens wafted in.
    Kormak studied his chamber. It contained a large four poster bed with mosquito netting, citronella candles to keep the blood-sucking little beasts at bay and a host of elaborately carved furniture that looked as if it had been shipped directly from Trefal. A flask of wine sat on the table along with a silver goblet. Kormak unstoppered it. It had a sweet scent with an odd and familiar tang. Kormak poured a thimbleful into the goblet and then let the slightest drop touch his lips. They went slightly numb and when he licked them his tongue tingled. Wyrmspike and something else. He began to understand the behaviour of the Governor and the crowds in the street if this was the vintage they were sipping.
    A knock on the door sounded. A moment later a servant