‘Happy… ha, that’s good. Very good.’ He then turned to study her. ‘You’re eager for Skulldeath to take one of those flying leaps straight between your legs? You want to get pregnant with some prince from some Seven Cities flying squirrel tribe?’
‘Pregnant? Aye, when dolphins walk and fish nest in trees. I won’t get pregnant,’ she pronounced. ‘Bottle’s giving me some herbs to take care of that. My beloved Skulldeath can empty gallons of his seed into me for Hood-damned ever and there won’t be any little jackrabbits jumping round.’;
‘He’s got the face of a girl,’ Koryk said. ‘And the men say he kisses like one, too.’
‘Who’s telling you all this?’
‘Saving his seed, that’s a laugh.’
‘Listen, those men, they don’t mean nothing. Now, am I a Kanese princess or not?’
‘Oh, aye. Rival to the empire’s throne, in fact. Be the fly-ing fish to the flying squirrel and make your nest in some tree, Smiles. When all’s done what’s needed doing.’
She surprised him with a bright smile. ‘Thanks, Koryk. You’re a true friend.’
He stared after her as she hurried off. Poor lass. The squirrel’s saving his seed because he doesn’t know what to do with it, is my guess.
A figure walked past in the gloom and Koryk squinted until he recognized the man’s gait. ‘Hey, Bottle.’
The young mage halted, looked over, then, feet dragging, approached.
Koryk said, ‘You’re supposed to be asleep.’
‘Thanks.’
‘So you’re giving Smiles special herbs, are you. Why do you-’
‘I’m what?’
‘Herbs. So she won’t get pregnant.’
‘Look, if she doesn’t want to get pregnant, she should just stop straddling every-’
‘Hold on, Bottle! Wait. I thought she’d talked to you. About herbs which you promised to give her-’
‘Oh, those herbs. No, you got it all wrong, Koryk. Those aren’t to keep her from getting pregnant. In fact, it’s some concoction of my grandmother’s and I’ve no idea if it even works, but anyway, it’s got nothing to do with not getting pregnant. Why, if she’d asked me about that kind of stuff, sure, there’s some very reliable-’
‘Stop! What-what does this concoction you’re giving her do to her, then?’
‘She’d better not be taking it! It’s for a man-’
‘For Skulldeath?’
‘Skulldeath? What…’ Bottle stared down for a long moment. ‘Do you know what skulldeath is, Koryk? It’s a plant that grows on Malaz Island and maybe Geni, too. You see, normally there’s male plants and there’s female plants and that’s how you get fruit and the like, right? Anyway, not so with the sweet little skulldeath. There’s only males-no females at all. Skulldeaths loose their-well, they spill it all out into the air, and it ends up somehow getting into the seeds of other plants and just riding along, hiding, until that seed sprouts, then it takes over and suddenly, another nice skulldeath with that grey flower that’s not really a flower at all, just a thin sack filled with-’
‘So, that concoction Smiles asked for-what does it do?’
‘Supposed to change a man who prefers other men into one who prefers women. Does it work? I have no idea.’
‘Skulldeath may be a plant,’ Koryk said, ‘but it’s also the name for a soldier in Primly’s squad. A pretty one.’
‘Oh, and that name…’
‘Is obviously very appropriate, Bottle.’
‘Oh. Poor Smiles.’
The Factor’s house might have looked nice, but it might as well have been made of straw, the way it fell down. Astonishing that no-one had died beneath all that wreckage. Urb at the least was certainly relieved by that, though his mood wilted somewhat after Hellian was through yelling at him.
In any case, thereafter satisfied and pleasantly feeling… pleasant, Hellian was anything but pleased when Balgrid’s appallingly unattractive face loomed into view directly in front of her. She blinked at him. ‘You’re shorter than I’d thought.’
‘Sergeant, I’m kneeling. What are you doing under the bar?’
‘I’m not the one who keeps movin’ it, Baldy.’
‘The other sergeants have agreed that we’re staying here for a while. You with them on that, Sergeant?’
‘Why not?’
‘Good. Oh, did you know, in the new squads, there’s another Kartoolii.’
‘Probbly a spy-they’re still after me, y’know.’
‘Why would they be after you?’
‘Cause I did something, that’s why. Can’t ‘member ‘xactly what, but it was bad ‘nough to get me sent here, wasn’t it? A damned spy!’
‘I doubt he’s anything-’
‘Yeah? Fine, make him come ‘ere and kiss my feet, then! Tell ‘im I’m the Queen of Kartool! An’ I want my kissed feet! My feeted kiss, I mean. Go on, damn you!’
Less than six paces away, tucked beneath the bar at the other end, sat Skulldeath; Hiding from that pretty but way too lustful woman in Fiddler’s squad. And at Hellian’s words his head snapped round and his dark, almond-shaped eyes, which had already broken so many hearts, slowly widened on the dishevelled sergeant crouched in a pool of spilled wine.
Queen of Kartool.
On such modest things, worlds changed.
