Chapter 29: Green is the Colour
The others dissipated, leaving Jaheira and Anomen alone in the crowd. The cleric scanned the faces keenly, on the lookout for Duchinov as they progressed through the people. Not only would it be rude to not greet their host, it would also be bloody stupid not to, considering their aim.
He wasn't too hard to find, standing just off the side of the string quartet and the vast throng of dancing guests with Saerk Farrahd – Delryn felt the hairs on the back of his neck go up as he saw the despicable man – and some other aristocrat that he didn't recognise.
Duchinov was quite tall and willowy, looking far younger than his forty years. There seemed nothing too special about him – his hair was a sandy mop that seemed content to look a little rakish at all times, his features were unnoticeable and his eyes were but a dull green – yet at the same time there was something about him, some aura that made him attractive.
He might not have been much to look at, but he was indeed possessive of the sort of natural charisma that made leaders out of even the most unconvincing of men, giving them a dominating air that surpassed even those who were physically intimidating.
His eyes lit up as he saw Anomen and Jaheira, his gaze lingering appreciatively on the latter for a few second – not lecherously, in any sense of the word, but merely the gaze of one who is assessing, and likes what he sees.
But behind the bright, cheerful eyes and broad smile, there was a cool, calculating mind, one which was probably wondering what the squire was doing here. None of that was displayed by Felden Duchinov.
"Lord Anomen!" he declared brightly, stepping forwards and shaking his hand firmly. "My, it's a delight to see you. I wasn't sure to be expecting your company, considering how your father failed to respond." Delryn opened his mouth to answer, but Duchinov was not done. "No matter, no matter, there was no RSVP. I was just wondering if Cor would agree to check in before he came. Where is the old devil?"
Old devil is right, Anomen thought viciously for a moment, before pasting a smile onto his face. "My father declined the invitation on terms of poor health," he started. His liver has had quite enough pickling for one month, I believe. "I believed that an occasion such as this, however, would be worth visiting."
Duchinov nodded in sure agreement. "Oh, you are most certainly welcome, Anomen," he assured him. Then he transferred his gaze back to Jaheira. "Well, are you going to introduce me to your radiant companion, or am I to just gape in awe until we handle it ourselves?" he asked smoothly.
Delryn kicked himself. He was not the world's greatest at etiquette… though, granted, Duchinov prompting him gave Jaheira the opportunity to give him a brief, distasteful glance, hopefully put on for the count's benefit so he could think that this was not a happy couple. Plus, he had expressed a direct interest.
"I forget my manners," he mumbled, blushing furiously. "Count Duchinov, this is Lady Jaheira. Jaheira, this is the Count Felden Duchinov," he stammered. Over the count's shoulder, Saerk Farrahd grinned broadly at his discomfort. If looks could kill, the glare Anomen returned with would have struck the Calimshite dead.
"Charmed," Duchinov drawled, raising Jaheira's right hand to his lips. He then stepped back and gestured at his companions. "My go for introductions. May I present to you Saerk Farrahd –"
Anomen's expression darkened. "We've met," he muttered gruffly. It was barely true – they had seen each other only across a crowded room, but knew of each other so well that this was but a trifling detail.
The count raised an eyebrow. "Ah, of course, through Cor," he commented dryly. "And here is the Lord Isea Roenall," he continued, stepping back and waving a hand at the other nobleman.
Delryn fixed Roenall with a glance. Before he'd had the fortune – or misfortune, as it sometimes seemed – to run into Harrian at the Mart, he had spent a lot of time in the Copper Coronet and had had the odd conversation with Nalia D'Arnise. Roenall had a reputation, of course, but the lady D'Arnise had had a few more choice words to say about the man.
Farrahd gave Anomen a look of barely contained disgust. "If you don't mind, Felden, I think I'm going to go and take advantage of that sumptuous buffet you have laid out for us. A man cannot partake in a ball such as this on an empty stomach."
As the Calimshite headed off, there was a taut silence, during which Jaheira glared at Anomen and Duchinov gave Roenall a none-too-subtle glance. Both were signals to be acted on, even though those gestured to were a little slow on the uptake.
Delryn smiled falsely at Isea Roenall as he felt Jaheira's elbow in his ribs. "I say, Lord Roenall," he started falteringly, mind rushing through possible ways to get them both out of there. "I… I was wondering what your stance, and the stance of the guard and military, was on the bandits raiding caravans towards the north. They have caused my father some concern… perhaps we could discuss this?"
It was a mind-bogglingly poor excuse to get them both out of the way, but it clearly suited the aims of both men for them to go along with it. Roenall nodded firmly. "Of course, Lord Delryn," he assured him, with an oily manner. "For 'tis verily a subject of much discussion…"
Across the room, lurking next to Minsc in the corner, Harrian was watching with a mixture of emotions as Anomen and some other man he didn't recognise detached themselves from the group and went in the same direction the Calimshite fellow had. Leaving Jaheira and Duchinov alone.
Everything was going exactly to plan, and that irked Harrian more than he'd realised. Seeing the count's face light up as he started to talk animatedly to Jaheira, clearing giving her a good burst of charm. He'd seen that expression on men before.
Corias grimaced, then turned around to grab two glasses of wine from one of the passing lackeys. Minsc glanced hopefully at the alcohol, then shook his head despondently as Harrian downed both glasses in quick succession and deposited them both on the tray from which they had come from.
"Something is clearly bothering Harrian," he rumbled, looking quizzically at the thief. "Boo is quite distressed at the number of people here. Minsc hopes this evening will be over with quickly."
"I'm fine," Corias answered quickly, then glanced around again. Yoshimo seemed to have gone all debonair buccaneer on a group of ladies by the buffet, and seemed a gnat's wing away from doing tricks with his assortment of knives to impress. On the other side Haer'Dalis was deep in conversation with a short man he had identified as one of Amn's most prestigious playwrights.
The evening was definitely going to plan. He stopped a moment to glower at Duchinov, which went unnoticed by the count, then gestured across the room to Minsc. "Come now, my large friend. If we're going to be stuck here, we might as well get bored on full bellies," he pointed out.
As they moved, he could see more of Jaheira and the count. She was laughing, a bright smile on her face which he hadn't seen for many weeks. Harrian felt a stab of the jealousy Haer'Dalis had warned him of, but suddenly didn't care of the bard's advice or opinion.
What eased his mind a little – a very little – was that Jaheira, still laughing, then placed a hand on Duchinov's arm, which assured him that there was acting at work here. Considerable acting.
For some reason, that didn't make him feel better when she gave the count a flash of what Harrian had always called her Khalid-smile; the one that she had only given her husband when he'd said something endearing or amusing. Duchinov had no rights to that smile, acting or not.
Corias ignored the fact that he'd have far fewer objections if the smile was turned on him, and decided to momentarily focus his attentions on the hors d'oeuvres at the table. Gods, he was a jealous hypocrite, and was painfully aware of it.
"Life is never as easy as you think it is, is it?" he asked Minsc idly, investigating the bread lightly. The nobs of the city always knew how to make or get good food, and he was planning to attempt to bankrupt Duchinov by eating all his supplies.
"It seems as if it is sometimes, but as Boo has often told me," the ranger replied, feeding the hamster nuts, "there are always more complex things lurking beneath the surface, and not all problems can be solved with some righteous butt-kicking."
"Boo says that, does he?" Harrian mused. At Minsc's nod, he sighed. "Tell Boo I think that, for a hamster, he speaks a lot of sense quite often. More so than most humans, come to mention it."
Minsc answered, but Corias wasn't listening. His gaze was still fixed on Jaheira and Duchinov. As he watched, however, the count gave her an apologetic, yet still bright look, before turning and heading towards the back of the room, disappearing through a door. Leaving Jaheira alone.
The Rasheman watched in surprise as Harrian strode off, clearly not listening, towards Jaheira, a look of conviction and determination on his face. Boo, also watching, squeaked a little. "I think you're right, Boo," the ranger murmured. "The hero seems to be losing his head."
Harrian reached her just as the string quartet finished playing one tune, and the dancers subsided. "Duchinov appears to have disappeared for a moment," he commented quickly, coming up behind her. "Got time for a word?"
Jaheira looked at him, taken aback. "What?"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly yet smoothly away from the main throng of people. "I don't like the way any of this is going," Harrian told her quickly and surely. "This is… this is not right."