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have turned on you at the first sign of spring rain." She tilted her head
playfully and winked at him. "I probably saved your life."
"It could be a curse," Rashan mumbled to himself.
The peristyle's doors opened, and a tall, blond man, clad in a brief red
kilt and a gladiator's broad leather belt stepped across the threshold. He
stopped there and called out to Dayrne, beckoning as he nodded greet-
ings to Daphne and Rashan.
Dayrne walked over to him. "What is it, Leyn?" he said quietly.
Leyn kept his voice low. "Molin Torchholder is here," he said with a
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STEALERS' SKY
look of warning. "He heard Chenaya was back. You know what he
wants."
Dayme nodded, frowning. Someday he'd drive a sword through that
old schemer's gut, even if Molin was Chenaya's uncle. The human
weasels of the world just weren't to be tolerated by honorable men, and
there were far too many such in Sanctuary. He knew what Torchholder
wanted, all right.
"You kept him in the courtyard?" Dayme asked.
Leyn pursed his lips and nodded.
"I'll take care of him," Dayme answered, ushering Leyn out and fol-
lowing him. He paused long enough to close the doors. He'd explain to
Daphne and Rashan later. "I'm beginning to get irritated with Lord
Molin," he added as he and Leyn walked side by side.
"He is a bit of a pimple in the crotch," Leyn agreed.
Dayrne went out into the courtyard and paused long enough to glance
at the steel-colored sky. On such a gray day bad news just had to come
calling. And there had been too many gray days, lately.
Molin had come with an escort of three garrison guards. Two stood
just behind Molin, while the third remained beyond the gate with their
horses. Dismas, Gestus, Ouijen, and Dendur stood on the opposite side of
the courtyard and scowled unpleasantly at them. Leyn went to join his
four friends and added his scowl to theire.
Dayme went straight up to Molin Torchholder without giving so much
as a glance of acknowledgment to the two nervous guards. "This is not a
good time, Molin," he said sternly.
Motin Torchholder was unruffled by the use of his first name without
the use of his title. "I've come to talk with my niece about Lowan's
estate," he said evenly, taking care to maintain his dignity in the face of
Dayme's deliberate affront.
Dayme glared into the other man's face, then down at his sternum just
under the breastbone, imagining he could see the spot right through
Molin's robes. Yes, there he would put his blade cleanly- It would make a
soft, squishing sound, steel and flesh, and Molin would give a little moan
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as he rolled his eyes. Someday.
"She's resting," Dayme finally answered. At least, he hoped she was
resting. Chenaya was almost hysterical about not falling asleep. No sleep-
ing, no talking. What was happening to her?
Molin Torchholder regarded Dayrne stimy and lifted the point of his
nose a bit higher in the air. "I've come twice now," he reminded Dayme.
"We've got to get this business settled."
Dayrne almost reached for his sword then and there. Instead, he
clenched his fist. "You pompous bureaucrat!" he hissed, making the effort
THE FIRE IN A GOD'S EYE 537
to keep his voice under control. "Lowan Vigeles wasn't dead a day before
you showed up to claim his estate."
A low chuckle came from behind Dayme. "Daphne threw him out on
his ass," Ouijen remembered aloud as he idly twisted the long braided
lock of dark hair that draped over his shoulder.
Dayrne ignored the interruption. "Now, Chenaya's not back a day,
and here you are to press your claim again. What's the matter, Molin?
Doesn't Kitty-Kat want you at the palace anymore?"
The insults were beginning to take effect on Molin Torchholder. His
cheeks had reddened at Ouijen's remark, and now a second time, Dayrne
had addressed him personally, and in such a mocking tone. His eyes
burned with suppressed anger. "It is not a claim," he stated starkly. "It is
a fact. Land's End is mine. Under Rankan law, daughters do not inherit
their fathers' holdings. Lowan was my brother . . ."
"Half-brother," corrected Daphne, coming out the door and joining
the gladiators behind Dayme. She smiled at Molin and blew him a kiss,
all the while tapping the dagger on her palm as she had done in the
peristyle.
Molin deigned to acknowledge her. "Princess," he said with a nod.
"Nevertheless, I am Lowan's closest surviving male relative. The fact is
indisputable, and the law is the law."
Daphne, Dismas, Gestus, Leyn, Ouijen, and Dendur all crept forward
until they stood in a semicircle on either side of Dayme. They were all
tapping daggers on their palms now, and they were all grinning unpleas-
ant little grins, winking at one another, and giving tiny provocative nods
and suggestive tilts of the head to the garrison guards, who began casting
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nervous glances toward the open gate at their backs.
"When the Lady Chenaya is ready to discuss it," Dayme said, empha- [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]