"Hello, gentlemen."
At these words of greeting, Lady Senna, the daughter of the late Lord Refa, watched Turo and Puck turn to see her standing behind them.
"Lady Senna," Puck gasped.
"Have we met?" she inclined her head curiously.
"Everyone in the Republic knows you," Puck bowed his head crisply. "Even those who barely watch the news know you are the Emperor's ward."
Turo stepped in front of Puck, sweeping his hand toward the floor in an ostentatious bow. "If I was a betting man, I would wager every Centauri on the planet would recognize you. Probably every Centauri that is not on the planet as well."
Senna amusedly watched Turo try to block his brother. "And you are not a betting man?"
"If there is something worth winning, I am always a man of chance." Turo grinned as Puck's iron grip closed around his shoulder and pulled him backwards.
"Pardon my brother," Puck smiled with a flicker of irritation. "Sometimes he forgets his manners."
Senna clasped her hands in front of her demurely as she glanced over the brothers. "The Emperor asked me to show you around, so I wonder what you might like to see?"
"Actually," Turo said brazenly. "We've seen quite enough of the dungeons already. I'm not sure our blood runs blue enough to be let into anywhere else."
Senna tapped her lips thoughtfully as she noted their small crests and elegant clothing. "You are commoners?"
Both men seemed to straighten proudly. Turo flashed a mischievous smile. "Indeed, we are not members of….how did the Emperor put it so eloquently a few minutes ago? Oh yes, he called the noble Houses 'overrated dynasties of heathens and back-stabbing idiots.' And we would not dare to contradict the Emperor."
Senna laughed, a smile lighting up her features. "He sounds like he is in fine form today."
Puck leaned forward conspiratorially, "Rather than commoners, we prefer to be called free thinkers."
Senna cocked her head, "Is that so?" As the Emperor's ward, she had enjoyed a liberal education, including education by free thinkers, though they were disappearing more and more. The emboldened claim by the commoner immediately peaked her interest. Surely, she thought, they will be more interesting than the obnoxious Prime Candidates I am usually forced to socialize with.
She waved the young men toward her, "The Emperor instructed me to show you around, so come along." She turned on her heel, taking the gentlemen back up the stairs and showing them her favorite portions of the palace.
When they came to the Library, with a half-domed ceiling carved in dark ebony and aged books of the Republic extending for as far as the eye could see, she engaged them in conversation, learning about their lives in Porto and the seaside port they called home.
Senna was so thoroughly engaged in their mariner stories of their household gods and the happenings on the coast that time slipped away from her, so when she finally glanced at the hour, she interrupted Puck's story about the coastal gods who frequently caused the little seaside port so much mayhem. "Gentlemen, I would love to hear more since I am unable to travel to the coast often, but the banquet is about to begin, and…."
"Say no more," Puck stood, offering a hand. "At the mention of food, we would follow you into the devil's den."
Soon, the trio found themselves in the banquet hall being courted by aperitifs on every tray. Over the course of the next half-hour, the men politely mingled with the other guests, although Senna noted that they deftly took a drink from every other tray passing them by and left their empty glasses on the next.
After a short delay, a speaker near the head table announced that the Emperor would not be attending, and Prime Minister Durla took over, making several toasts to the ministers of the cabinet and the work of their staff before the banquet food was served.
Senna noted the young men's appetites – although they were polite, they were also ravenous. By the time the orchestra had assembled for the ball, she could barely believe that either of them could walk, but they both jumped up spritely from the table. Senna tried to keep her eyes on them, but she was overtaken by young gentlemen seeking her attention, and she lost track of the Marcanti brothers for over an hour. At last, she was able to free herself from the gala's throngs, and she went looking for them, finally discovering them just outside the banquet hall.
Turo's hands were up in a deferential gesture as an elderly noble was dressing him down for approaching his young wife with designs on her. "My profound apologies," Turo actually looked appalled. Probably at being caught, Senna thought.
The elderly noble was advancing on him with a cane fortified with brass. "You deserve to be put in your place, and you are lucky I do not have a coutari to slice you in half," the noble cried.
"My good man," Puck placed a hand on the noble's chest, I would be glad to teach him a lesson for you in a fair fight. I would even wager a meager amount on the outcome."
The elderly noble drew a small ransom out of his purse. "I'll lay the wager for you." With that, he invited the other nobles in attendance to wager on the fight.
Puck rolled up his sleeves as he stood next to Senna, and she heard him mutter, "I hate fighting my brother."
"Is he that good?" Senna asked curiously.
"No," Puck straightened, determination in his eye. "He cheats."
For several minutes, Puck and Turo took turns throwing fists at each other, though their state of inebriation did not allow many serious blows to land, but a shout from inside the palace momentarily caught Puck's attention, and Turo landed a nasty blow, sending Puck staggering. Turo followed it up immediately with pummeling fists to Puck's diaphragm, knocking out his wind. Puck backed up, throwing up a hand while he tried to regain his breath.
"Are you giving up?" Turo called out.
As Puck was bent over catching his breath, he caught Senna's eye, and he winked knowingly as if he'd been toying with his brother. Finally regaining his wind, Puck shook his head. "Not in a fight with you. You should know better than that."
Puck advanced, a determined fervor on his face. He seemed to gain a second wind, and he flew against his brother, landing a vicious flurry of blows. The last one landed squarely on Turo's face, knocking him down, and he momentarily lost consciousness.
"The winner by knockout," the elderly noble laughed, awarding Puck a handsome sum and a bottle for his trouble. "And let that be a lesson to you, young man," he shook his cane at Turo who had already come around and had slowly started to get to his feet.
Turo slipped, falling to the ground again before he finally made it back to his feet. "Brother," Turo gasped, doubled over with his hands on his knees, "I think you have broken my nose."
Puck threw out his arms in both directions. "Your nose is enormous, Turo! It is very difficult to miss, so do not blame me. Besides, you are crying like a baby, but it isn't even bleeding."
Turo licked the blood off his split lip with a shake of his head, and he shrugged. "Well, there you have me, I suppose. It is impossible to win against someone with a head as hard as yours."
Puck laughed, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder, "Just be glad he didn't take his cane to you, Turo. It could have been much worse." Apparently, they had been in many such bouts growing up, and Turo was resigned to losing to his big brother's unforgiving fists.
Turo walked stiffly toward Senna, and Puck joined them after collecting his winnings.
Turo pounced on her arm, seeming to instantly recover from his failed bout. "Lady Senna, this gala is rather stuffy. Would you not like to experience the charms of our Capital City with us? We know a place…."
"Oh," her eyes darted between the brothers, and she noticed Puck's eyes were beginning to glaze over, and he was paying more attention to his unsteady feet than the conversation, though she wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the fight.
Senna had seen quite a bit of the underbelly of the Capital City when she had been thrust into it at her parents' demise, but the palace was suffocating, and she knew she would enjoy getting out of it for a short time, though the logistics seemed insurmountable. "I would like that very much, but it would be quite a mess – the palace guards would have to be alerted, and they would have to clear the area…."
"You misunderstand," Puck slurred, having finished his bottle. "He means to say that we will break you out if you would like to come with us. We will be back before the end of the ball or our Mother will have our heads… as will the Emperor, but truthfully, we are more afraid of our mother's wrath."
Senna laughed. "That's only proper." Although she was apprehensive about leaving the palace grounds with the men, her curiosity and adventurous spirit got the better of her, for she could not comprehend how they would break her out of the palace, especially in such inebriated states.
"All right, you lead the way," she said with a pensive smile.
Turo and Puck seemed to have laid out their plan already, for they marched up the palace's stairway to the second floor, darting their heads out the windows every several rooms until one shouted out that he had found what they were looking for.
Upon exiting the room for a small veranda, Senna found Puck sitting in an old and thick tree overhanging the veranda, and he had thrown his hand out for her. With a sigh, she kicked off her heels, handing them up to Puck before she grasped his outstretched hand, and he pulled her safely into the tree. As Puck waited for his brother, who seemed to be having slightly more trouble as he stiffly crawled into the tree, Senna delicately balanced along one of the branches that dropped over the palace walls.
A cadre of palace guards passed by, and the trio froze, hoping the tree's thick branches would cover their movements. When the guards were safely out of earshot, Puck lowered himself down, dropping the last few feet. Turo dangled Senna down to Puck waiting fingertips, and he caught her when Turo finally let go.
Turo himself landed with a cry and a thud, and as he straightened, he seemed to regret it, for he walked stiffly behind Puck and Senna. Puck turned to Senna and withdrew a large silk handkerchief from a pocket and tossed it to Senna. "You will want to wear that – otherwise we won't be the only ones who know the Emperor's ward has gone missing from the palace."
As Senna was winding the handkerchief around her head, she again considered that this could be a deadly rouse on behalf of men she had only just met, but then she glanced at their charming but inebriated states, and she could not imagine them planning anything quite so elaborate as breaking her out of the palace. And, she reasoned, was it not the Emperor himself who had commanded her to keep an eye on them? She glanced at Puck. "How do you plan to get back in the palace, anyway?"
Puck responded, "We have a very intricate plan for that. You will have to wait to see it in action, but we put a lot of thought into it in the last hour. We think it will work."
"Lead on, then," Senna gestured spryly toward the city.
The trio hustled along the streets leading away from the palace, blending into a crowd some blocks away. Before long, Senna found herself in a foreign quarter, notably less well-to-do than the palace's neighborhood. She noted the crests of the local men getting quite short, denoting their low status, and the threads of their clothing was showing. It reminded her of her desperate days on the street before the Emperor had taken her in as his ward, and a chill ran through her bones.
Puck rapped on a door with his fist, and it opened to a rowdy and raucous crowd inside. The burly man at the door looked the trio up and down before he growled, "You lost, sir?"
Puck blinked twice before he remembered his clothes. "Oh, no," he gestured wildly. "These aren't ours. Let us in!" he demanded.
The man's eyebrows shot up. "This place isn't for you…sir." he said in a growl.
Turo stepped around his brother, withdrawing a knife from his clothing. "Let us in," he insisted.
"And what," the man threw back his head laughing, "do you intend on doing with that?"
Puck glanced at his brother's hand and groaned as he saw a silver flatware knife with a blunt edge. "Did you steal the Emperor's silver from the banquet?"
Turo turned to the doorman flipping the knife hilt first in his hand. He pressed it into the surprised man's hand and pushed his way past him with a pat him on the shoulder. "For your trouble," he said with a grin.
With a glance at the silver in his hand, the doorman let the trio inside without another word.
Once inside, Senna made out a throng of people in the darkened premises, but she kept walking, the brothers flanking her, and the house opened into a large colonnaded courtyard surrounded by walls on all sides. In the middle of the courtyard, there was a large bonfire surrounded by revelers. In a moment, she had a cup of bubbling Centauri tchule, a potent hard alcohol that tasted similar to cider but which was much bolder in its alcoholic content.
Senna joined the people casting shadows around the flickering firelight. It was dark enough that no one would recognize her, especially with the scarf on, but the merry atmosphere was far different than she remembered living outside the palace. Here, the people were dressed in rags, but they were full of spirit, warmth, and laughter. They passed several hours listening to a rich tapestry of stories told by master storytellers, each more fanciful and farfetched than the last.
In between stories, merry singing broke out around the bonfire, and Puck and Turo would join with the crowd in the choruses from wherever in the courtyard they had migrated. But after a while, the men were displeased with the song choices, so Puck sashayed over to the ragtag band of musicians playing their makeshift instruments, and he exchanged a few words with them as Turo found an oversized gourd hanging on the wall. He flipped it over, grabbing two large wooden spoons, and with exaggerated gestures as if he was playing an oversized timpani drum, he began pounding an exaggerated rolling drum beat, the introduction to a well-known Centauri sea shanty.
Puck jumped up spryly on a barrel and serenaded the courtyard with each verse of the song. Senna heard a variety of voices familiar with the old patriotic sailor's tune joining him, and he encouraged them with spirited gestures.
Haul boys, haul away
Its time for victory day
We'll sink their bones
Even if we're forced to do it with stones
Haul boys, haul away
Sharpen up your swordplay
We'll sink their bones
The musicians knew the melody but every time the chorus rolled around, Turo and Puck belligerently belted out the chorus, the entire courtyard joining in the jubilant melody.
Sink their bones!
Sink their bones!
Sink their bones!
When the song finished Puck breathlessly found Senna, throwing an affectionate arm around her shoulders. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked merrily.
Senna was about to answer when she noticed Turo heading for the fire with a bottle. She pointed Puck's attention toward his brother as Turo waved a few people aside with an arm and held out his lighter, blowing his alcohol across the lighter and spewing fire, delighting the crowd with his drunken antics.
"Watch out," Puck grinned. "He's set three people on fire. I know because I was one of them." Puck shook his head with drunken amusement. For several minutes, Turo entertained the crowd with his fire-breathing skills before he withdrew a knife that glinted in the firelight.
"Brother," Turo gestured toward Puck. "Do not think I forgot the fight today. Now it is my turn for revenge. We will have a contest." Senna gasped at the sight of the knife.
Puck yawned, the late hour finally overtaking him. "Turo fancies himself a knife thrower. Definitely stand clear for this."
Puck strolled to his brother's side. "And what will you wager on this throwing match, brother?"
"I'll bet all of the Emperor's silver on my body."
Puck snorted. "Well, that's not much of a bet."
Turo laughed, and he began to withdraw silver knives secreted in his boots and his waistcoat until there was a small pile in front of him. "I should say that's almost enough for a king's ransom," Turo chuckled.
"That is why you were walking so stiffly early," Senna exclaimed, aghast at the amount of silver Turo had pulled from his clothes and had apparently stolen from the banquet.
"Yes, and do not forget it weighed me down in our fight." Turo picked up a knife, and in one swift motion he cast it at a wooden column, burying the tip of the blade, leaving the rest of the knife shuddering from the impact.
Puck pulled a knife from the pile, throwing it at the same spot, and it landed squarely beside the other one. A collective shout went up at its placement as other revelers began to lay bets on the brothers' match. For several minutes, the brothers traded places, each adept at burying dulled blades in the soft pockmarked wood until at last Puck threw up his hands.
"I thought it would be a draw, but you have me this time," he hung his head in defeat. "But," he shook a finger at his brother, "do not think this is the end of it. We will have a rematch in the daylight." He glanced at the time, his face paling to an ashen white. "We had better get back or we will all be in trouble."
Gathering up the knives, Turo turned them over to one of the hosts, and Senna heard him happily say, "A donation for the efforts with our thanks."
As they tumbled out the door to the quiet streets beyond the courtyard, Senna caught Turo's sleeve. "What did you mean back there – a donation for the efforts?"
Turo looked at Senna strangely for a moment before he replied. "The Centaurum hasn't been getting help to the people who need it most. Let's just say, we make sure those people are taken care of."
Senna stared at him for a moment as they walked. "You sound like Southern rebels," she mused.
Turo and Puck exchanged a glance. "No, we're not rebels. We wouldn't take up arms against the Emperor. We love our country."
"But that donation…."
"Look," Puck took her arm as they walked, earnestly wagging a finger at her. "The situation in the South is getting more desperate by the day. This is a network of good Samaritans. It helps provide for people who have nothing. In fact, I believe it provides more stability than the government has the past few years. If the Centaurum won't act, we must act ourselves."
Senna took in this revelation calmly. "Why are you telling me this?"
Puck responded thoughtfully, "We know you were on the streets before the Emperor took you in. You know what it is like to be in a desperate situation – to fear for your life on the streets. We thought of anyone, you might understand what the people in the South are going through. And that they need help. Help they aren't getting from any official quarter."
Senna walked with them in silence for a few moments, listening to the clack of her heels on the pavement. "I know what it is like," she said finally. "But you must understand, the Royal Treasury is empty, and the Emperor is doing everything he can. I can see how it wears on him, day after day. He knows how desperate the situation is, and he is busy from dawn until dusk every day, but the reparations the Alliance demanded from us are crippling the economy."
Turo nodded, "As I said, we love our country, and we would never act against the Centaurum or the Emperor. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. And we do not believe it is necessary, but if conditions continue to get worse, the people will become more desperate, and there may be blood in the future."
Senna considered the graft and malaise of some of the ministers, and the Emperor's deepening depression and anger at his cabinet. She also thought of her desperate days on the street before the Emperor had adopted her as his ward, and she considered the Southern rebel network could be strategically helpful to the Emperor and to herself. "You have a close knit community," she side-stepped the lingering, unspoken question.
Turo piped in, agreeing with her assessment, "Our community was forged in desperation, so it is closer than most."
Senna considered this, smiling inwardly that they had let her into such a coveted place.
As the palace came into sight, Senna turned toward the brothers. "My own teacher was killed, you know, and I am also distrustful of some of the ministers. You have seen the Prime Candidates today - the militarization of the youth. I also have concerns about what is happening within the country, and I think we might be of use to each other. But the Emperor is doing everything he can in these very desperate times, and he is like a father to me. I could never help you if I thought you might rise against him."
Puck squared his shoulders. "We accept your condition. We are interested in ensuring that the people have enough food to eat in light of the famine and that citizens do not disappear in the middle of the night, and having an ally within the palace would be helpful in ensuring supplies arrive to the places that need them most. You could warn us if you hear anything concerning disappearances. And I am sure we can be of mutual benefit to you. We will be in your debt, and you may call on us at any time. And now you know one of our meeting houses, so you can see we already trust in your discretion."
Senna sighed, though excitement tingled in her blood. She was well-placed to do some good, and the Marcanti brothers could be the vehicle she could use to help the Emperor's plight. "Very well," she agreed to the arrangements. "Now how are we going to get back in the palace?" she asked.
"Watch this," Puck strolled to the main entrance and addressed the attending guard who snapped to attention and raised the gate. The trio walked past, and Senna noticed the guard's pale face.
"What did you tell him?" she asked.
Puck laughed. "I told him that we had accompanied Young Lady Senna from the palace grounds and that the guards had failed in their duties to ensure her safety. The Emperor would have their heads if he found out, so either they could make a scene and tell him, forfeiting their lives, or they could let us back in, and we wouldn't mention the incident to him. The commanding officer agreed it would be best if we kept the incident to ourselves."
Senna laughed, "A clever strategy."
Puck and Turo bowed as each chuckled. "Thank you, Lady Senna," Puck replied.
