(The Dark Servant)Midnight Matters, A. Ellas [primary phonics books .txt] 📗

to me that it would enrich you, not break you.”

Baorik looked unconvinced. Jethain ran fingers through his hair.

“We should study the issue,” said Peneron. “Prince Jethain, why don’t you have your scholars research it?”

“Always a good idea,” Breavey agreed.

“Concur,” said Baorik.

“Very well,” said Jethain. “We will put the issue to the scholars and see what they think.”

Maziel said to Rak, “Perhaps the best you can do at this point, S’Rak.” The young noble looked sympathetic and he smiled gently.

“As long as they give it fair consideration,” Rak replied. The council turned to other matters, and he walked out.

Chapter Eight: Dinner with Friends

Okthåra Atålio, Tålyssa Fångari

8th day, 2nd week, Telyssa’s moon

“Captain Jisten told me that his matre was cooking dinner for us. To prevent any interference or interruption, this dinner will be in my suite. Do you think you can walk that far?”

“For Despina’s food? I can walk to

Okyro!” Jethain said. “I still remember her marinated ox, her cannoli, her pastina!”

Rak chuckled and helped him to stand. “I will walk with you.”

Jethain accepted a hand up. Morth shook himself and led the way. The death hound was effective at clearing hallways. They slowly walked to Rak’s suite. Slowly, but without incident. Whenever he felt the prince’s pulse pounding, Rak would pause and ask about a statue as a cover for letting Jethain rest.

Tebber was keeping an eye out for them and had the door open before they arrived. Rak steered Jethain deftly into the parlor and over to a comfortable chair. It would be more accuracte to say that the prince collaspsed into the chair than that he sat in it. As a result, Jisten walked over and checked the prince’s pulse.

“I’m not an old woman!” Jethain snapped at him. When Jisten retreated, the prince said, “I’m sorry, I had a visit from Father and I’m taking it out on you.”

Rak rested a hand on Jisten’s arm, looking up at the man. “He did not mean to snap.”

“No need to apologize,” Jisten said. “I understand.”

“Oh, and Araken is son now while I am Jethain,” the prince said with great bitterness.

Rak scowled at that, fiercely. “The man does not listen. I am not his heir.”

“He thinks you’re the one not listening,” Jethain replied.

“And he wants me to call him father. Father! He may have sired me, but no more than that!” Rak could feel his wings rustling in agitation and could see Jisten’s gaze drawn to them.

“That is just as much for the nobles as for himself,” Jisten said. “He called for both the priestess of Evphora and Si’Yeni to declare you his son to pacify the nobles. Elenna came from Valer Square because Asfalea threatened to spit on Owain for marrying Jezaia.”

“We should eat before the food gets cold,” said Rak, breaking the tension, although the mental image of an old lady spitting on the king did cheer him. He presented a bottle of wine with a flourish, and then sniffed at the basket. “That smells divine. What is in there?”

“The pastina dish is for Jethain. There is marinated goat over seasoned grains, mushrooms sautéed in butter and wine, and cannoli for dessert.”

“I can’t have the goat?” Jethain looked up at Rak.

“You can try it,” Rak decided at the prince’s forlorn look. “We can use the pastina as a side dish.”

“Ah, but wait!” Jisten dug in the basket and pulled out a cheese grater and a wedge of hard white cheese. He grated it over Rak’s portion. The tangy smell of the cheese mingled with the scent of the dish.

“Stop teasing and let us eat,” said Rak. He served some of the pastina to all of them. Tebber took over the cheese grating. Jethain took a bite of the dish and closed his eyes in appreciation.

“Your mother makes me this every time I’m sick,” Tebber said. “And the first year I was here, every time I cried, too.”

Jisten smiled. “She bought extra chickens that year.”

Tebber served the goat dish next. With the food all plated out, Rak served the dinner wine, a simple Okyran red, better than most wine in Koilatha. Tebber sipped it with an expression of astonishment. Rak tried the goat. “This meat melts on the tongue and does not have the usual strong taste.”

“The secret is the long marination,” Jisten said. They amicably chatted about food over dinner.

Once his plate had been mopped clean with the delicious bread, Rak glanced at the basket. “So, what are these can-ohlis Tebber has been telling me about?”

Jethain sat up. “Cannolis?!”

Jethain’s smile was so happy that Rak had to grin back. Tebber moaned in happy anticipation. Jisten dug into the basket and produced a plate of golden brown tubes with cream overflowing the ends, teasing the three drooling men. He carefully, if far too slowly, delivered a pastry to each man’s dish.

Rak sampled his. His eyes closed in bliss. Then he retrieved a bottle of golden honey wine and served it. “The red is wrong for these. Try this.” It was a strong, but sweet, wine. The men ate and drank in utter silence.

When Jethain began to drowse from the food and wine, Rak and Tebber shared a glance. They got Jethain up and moving, but it was a long, slow walk back to the prince’s suite. Jisten checked each corridor, but everyone was off at the evening entertainment, so their transit was unobserved.

At long last, Rak tucked Jethain into bed after he removed the boots, but left the socks on at the prince’s request. Rak thought that strange, but let it pass. Perhaps his brother was prone to cold feet. Rak called his allies and three of the large thansymi materialized, then settled down around Jethain’s bed. The firemane appeared and sprawled on the hearth, gnawing a joint of beef it had found somewhere. Rak prayed the cat would stay all night, and not wander off as they were prone to do.

“I’ll stay here with