Toll the Hounds

‘Thank you, Therule,’ said Sordiko. ‘Is the Lady in the garden?’



There was no reply.



The High Priestess nodded and walked on, along a winding path through an overgrown, weedy courtyard, its walls covered in wisteria in full bloom. Sordiko paused upon seeing a large snake coiled in the sun on the path, then edged care-fully round it.



Iskaral crept after her, eyes on the nasty creature as it lifted its wedge-shaped head, tongue flicking out in curiosity or maybe hunger. He hissed at it as he passed and was pleased at its flinch.



The estate’s main house was small, elegant in a vaguely feminine way. Arched pathways went round it on both sides, vine-webbed tunnels blissfully draped in shadows. The High Priestess chose one and continued on towards the back.



As they drew closer they heard the murmur of voices.



The centre of the back garden was marked by a flagstone clearing in which stood a dozen full-sized bronze statues in a circle facing inward. Each statue wept water from its oddly shielded face down into the ringed trough it stood in, where water flowed ankle deep. The statues, Iskaral Pust saw with faint alarm as they drew closer, were of Seguleh, and the water that fell down did so from beneath masks sheathed in moss and verdigris. In the middle of the circle was a thin-legged, quaint table of copper and two chairs. In the chair facing them sat a man with long grey hair. There was blood-spatter on his plain shirt. A woman was seated with her back to them. Long, lustrous black hair shimmered, contrasting perfectly with the white linen of her blouse.



Upon seeing Sordiko Qualm and Iskaral Pust the man rose and bowed to his host. ‘Milady, until next time.’



A second, sketchier bow to the High Priestess and Iskaral, and then he was walking past.



Sordiko Qualm entered the circle and positioned herself to the right of the now vacated chair. To Iskaral Pust’s astonishment (and, a moment later, delight) she curtsied before her host. ‘Lady Envy.’



‘Do sit, my love,’ Lady Envy replied. Then, as Iskaral Pust hovered into view, seeing at last her exquisite face, so perfect a match that lovely hair, and the poise of her, er, pose, there in that spindly chair with her legs crossed revealing the un-derside of one shapely thigh just begging for a caress, she scowled and said, ‘Perhaps I should get a sandbox installed for your foundling, High Priestess? Somewhere to play and soak up his drool.’



‘We would, alas, have to bury him in it.’



‘Interesting suggestion.’



Therule then arrived with another chair. The similarity between him and the statues was somewhat disquieting, and Iskaral Pust shivered as he quickly bowed to Lady Envy then perched himself on the chair.



‘Her beauty challenges even that of the High Priestess! Why, imagine the two of them-’



‘Iskaral Pust!’ snapped Sordiko Qualm. ‘I did instruct you to be quiet, did I not?’



‘But I said nothing, my love! Nothing at all!’



‘I am not your love, nor will I ever be.’



He smiled, and then said, ‘I will play these two beauties off one another, driv-ing both to spasms of jealousy with my charm, as it slides so easily from one to the other. Pluck here, brush there! Oh, this will be such a delight!’



‘I am of a mind to kill him,’ said Lady Envy to Sordiko Qualm.



‘Alas, he is the Magus of Shadow.’



‘You cannot be serious!’



‘Oh yes!’ cried Iskaral Pust. ‘She is! Furthermore, it is most propitious that I am here, for I know something you do not!’



‘Oh, goodness,’ sighed Lady Envy. ‘A beautiful morning thus shattered into ruin.’



‘Who was he?’ Iskaral demanded. ‘That man who was here? Who was he?’



‘Why should I tell you that?’



‘In exchange-you satisfy my curiosity and I yours-and so we shall satisfy each other and how do you like that, Sordiko Qualm? Hah!’



Lady Envy rubbed at her temples for a moment, as if overwhelmed, and then said. ‘That was the bard, Fisher kel Tath. A most unusual man. He… invites confession. There have been dire events in the city-’



‘None so dire as what I would tell you!’ said Iskaral Pust.



And now Sordiko was rubbing at her own brow.



‘It’s working!’



Lady Envy eyed him. ‘If I grant you this exchange, Magus, will you then re-strain yourself, thus permitting the High Priestess and me to conduct our conver-sation?’



‘My restraint is guaranteed, Lady Envy. Of course, I make this promise only if you do the same.’



‘Whatever do you mean?’