Lord of the White Hell book Two

Chapter Sixteen

Throughout the following weeks Kiram saw Javier often but almost always in mixed company. His mother, sisters and father took pride in associating with Javier and many of their friends followed suit so that even when Kiram managed to secret Javier away from the house, family acquaintances approached them on the street, insisting on treating Javier to expensive bitter wines and challengingly rarified dishes. Javier behaved politely, engaging foods that even Kiram tried to feed to lapdogs. But the attention wore on them both.

A hunted look flashed through Javier's expression every time a Haldiim mother called out a warm greeting. More and more, Kiram found himself leading Javier through the shabby back streets where no decent Haldiim would travel just so the two of them could steal a few moments of intimacy out of sight of his mother's acquaintances.

A year ago he couldn't have imagined himself purposefully rushing between a tanner's dung pots and oily racks of drying fish to reach a dim alley, much less leaning back against a decaying wall in a passionate embrace. But now that he'd spent more than one evening listening to Hashiem Kir-Naham drone on about dry poultices while surrounded by beautiful furnishings and soothing music, he'd discovered that location mattered far less than the company he kept.

Now the smell of smoked fish and leather almost excited him. And on several lonely afternoons he caught himself gazing into the deep shadows of dank streets with a kind of longing.

Still, he was not fool enough to think that the recesses of the Haldiim district were where he belonged. Along with tanners, fisherwomen and soot mongers, thieves and cutthroats populated those winding narrow streets. When he ventured there, Kiram kept his coin purse hidden in an inner pocket of his vest. He dressed simply and carried the knife that Alizadeh and Rafie had given him.

Javier seemed to take a certain pleasure in dressing down. He claimed to have won his faded leather pants and slashed coat from a Cadeleonian sailor. In combination with his fine sword and riding boots, the wardrobe lent Javier the air of a mercenary, a street snake as Kiram's father called them.

Kiram supposed it was telling that he'd now seen enough of such men to recognize their characteristic fast hands and clean weapons.

"Knowing you has certainly broadened my horizons," Kiram whispered to Javier as they shimmied between racks of drying river fish. Two fisherwomen watched them pass as if he and Javier were hungry cats.

"I could say the same to you," Javier replied. Ahead of them drying nets formed a canopy over the walkway. River gulls, ravens and doves fought for remnants of fish and riverweeds caught in the rope. Their cries and the noise of their wings filled the air. Then Kiram heard a terrible screech and looked up to see a cluster of bright blue jays settling among the other birds. He felt suddenly wary of walking past them and instead led Javier down a cramped lane where plumes of pungent smoke drifted from kitchen fires.

Javier looked oddly amused.

"What are you smirking about?" Kiram asked.

"Just wondering if we're hiding from birds now too."

"Not necessarily," Kiram replied. "Maybe I just wanted to get you somewhere more private."

"And to think I once imagined I would corrupt and seduce you." Javier paused near the mouth of an alley they had used before. "It's been quite the opposite, really."

"I haven't corrupted you," Kiram objected and Javier just gave him a lewd grin.