A very odd, unexpected reply.
The answer itself was simple enough. Lady Vrou Iljana would be received whenever she wished. It was everything else that made her eyes go wide. Expensive, scented parchment, covered with line after line of ornate phrases, written in the flowing script of a courtier.
...delighted...astonished...my heartfelt service...a jewel of society...
She set the letter aside with dismay. Maszny was the younger son of an exceedingly wealthy prince, whose title and holdings dated from long before the Empire existed. And Maszny himself had received numerous decorations for his service in the military. There was even talk the Emperor would appoint him as the first Imperial governor of Eddalyon. This letter was more like those she’d seen from parasites of the Imperial Court, the ones who sent pleading letters to Hêr Lord Brun from time to time, asking for his patronage.
Her maids returned with the news that the two senior guards awaited her in the entry hall. Anna followed them, still occupied with the seeming contradictions between Maszny’s letter and what she knew of his background.
The two men stood at attention in the hall. One was an older man of middle height, with pale grey eyes that looked even paler in his dusky brown face. His companion was younger, with the flat cheekbones and arched nose of an islander.
The older man bowed to Anna. “Lady Vrou. We are yours to command.”
She handed them a silver denariie each. “Very good. I wish you to accompany me to the garrison. You have ordered a chair?”
He bowed again. “Of course, Lady Vrou. It awaits you even now.”
* * * *
By this hour, the morning breezes had died away, leaving the city breathless and close, the sedan chair closer still. Anna closed her eyes and wet her throat with sips of lemon water from the flask a serving girl had handed her before she left the inn. From time to time, she flicked open the curtain to judge their progress. The part of her that was Lady Iljana was indifferent to the passing streets. The other part, the part that was her father’s daughter, could not help taking note of the city.
According to the histories, the first people had arrived in Eddalyon a thousand years before. Very little of those settlements remained, just a few pockets of stone structures, and most of that buried under layers of dirt and stone. A second wave of settlers from four or five centuries ago had built walled cities and grand palaces for their kings. The other islands still possessed remnants of those palaces, but the ones on Vyros had been destroyed by the Empire’s invading troops.
The garrison was the largest of the newer structures. It lay on the eastern side of the city, on a shoulder of land overlooking the harbor. As she stepped down from the sedan chair, Anna took in its high, thick walls, the towers at every corner, the numerous soldiers patrolling the walkways and standing before the gates. These were all signs of a steady, competent hand in charge.
How, then, to explain the style of the letter she had received?
She could only hope her interview would explain these contradictions.
Inside the garrison, her guards and her chairmen were directed to a room to await their lady. A young woman in uniform escorted Anna through the compound, past numerous sentries and gates, and up a flight of stairs to the commander’s office, where she exchanged passwords with more guards.
The door opened and her escort motioned for Anna to proceed.
“My Lady Vrou.”
Anna entered the room and paused.
Commander Maszny’s office was cool and shaded. Its floor was tiled in dark blue, its walls the same pale brown as the rest of the garrison and hung with large maps of the region. At the far end of the room, two men stood over a table. One was a much older man, black-skinned and with features cut in sharp lines, his springy white hair cropped close to his skull—clearly a mainlander from the southeast provinces. The other was a younger man, dressed in the same uniform, but with more badges affixed to his collar.
The younger man stepped around the desk and bowed. “Vrou Iljana. I am Hêr Lord Prince Dimarius Maszny, commander of this most desolate province. I am delighted to receive such a lovely ornament of Duenne’s Court.”
It took all her control to keep from staring at this welcome. “Commander Maszny. Hêr Prince. I am not delighted. As I wrote, my reason for this interview is anything but pleasant.”
“Oh, ah, yes. Those brigands.”
Anna bit back an angry reply. “Those were pirates, not brigands, my lord,” she said evenly. “And however delighted I am that you have received me so quickly, I am also angry and distressed. My people tell me you were strangely indifferent to my plight yesterday.”
Maszny waved a hand. “And I am distressed by your distress, my lady. Let us partake of refreshments while we discuss the matter.” He gestured toward a table set with elegant cups and decanters. “As for you, Captain Rouphos, I must banish you to oversee the garrison, while I attend to Vrou Iljana’s needs.”
Captain Rouphos coughed, but said nothing. He bowed to Anna and saluted Maszny before he withdrew. Maszny appeared not to notice. He swept his hand around to guide Anna toward the table. “Would you care for some wine? Or anything stronger?”
“Tea,” Anna said. She managed to disengage herself from the man and sat down. The tone of his letter ought to have warned her. Even so, she could not picture anyone like Maszny taking command of such an important post as Eddalyon.
Maszny himself appeared amused. “My dear Lady Vrou. Please don’t abandon all good opinion so quickly. You have a complaint to lodge, and I must perform my duty.” He inspected the various decanters, made a face. “My unreliable servants have provided us no tea, but we do have strong coffee, brewed in the Eddalyon fashion. Will that suffice?”
He poured a cup. She accepted it from his hands, noting the calluses on his palms. A swordsman, then. That fit with the reports she’d had about the man. It did not fit with his manner today.
She glanced up in time to see him studying her. At once, he smiled and offered her a plate of biscuits powdered with cinnamon. Anna accepted one and sipped at her coffee, which was chilled and spiced even more heavily than the biscuits. Maszny, she noticed, had poured himself a generous cupful of wine. He leaned back and took a long swig.
“So you have crossed paths with our local brigands—pirates, I mean.”
“Yes, Hêr Commander. Or rather, they have crossed me.”
“Ah, a terrible thing. Tell me everything, if you please, my Lady Vrou.”
So he was amused, she thought. She let her annoyance leak through as she told him, in blunt phrases, about the attack and subsequent events. She wanted to speak about the dead and wounded guards, but Vrou Iljana would not, no matter how Anna Zhdanov wished it, and so she dwelt upon the outrage to her person and her position. Her father the Barône would not take the matter lightly, she said. He had connections in Duenne’s Court. He would not suffer the insult to his family.
Throughout her speech, Maszny listened with eyes half-lidded, his mouth relaxed into a faint smile. She could almost believe he’d fallen asleep, except that he occasionally took a sip from his wine cup. Once, when she mentioned leaping from the ship to escape, his eyes widened, but he offered no other reaction.
“And not one hour after I returned to my rooms, he bribed a kitchen boy to smuggle a letter into my private chambers,” Anna said, her voice catching on a deliberate sob. “He dares too much.”
“You are not so very wrong about that,” Maszny murmured. Then in a louder voice, “So. What are your exact wishes in this matter?”
“That you hunt down these pirates, Hêr Commander. That you