08 A Little Hatred: Book One (The Age of Madness)

‘Always good advice …’ The hall could’ve held a whole terrace of Valbeck’s slum houses. A gleaming expanse of rare woods and coloured marbles imported from places whose names Broad couldn’t even pronounce, most likely, and he twitched down his worn cuffs and twitched up his worn collar in a pathetic effort to make himself more presentable.

A fine-looking lady was waiting for them, dark-skinned, tall and elegant, with hands clasped and jet-black hair knotted tight. ‘Lady Savine—’

Savine stepped forward and caught her in a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Zuri. I can’t tell you how good.’

The dark-skinned woman stood a moment, surprised, then lifted her arms and hugged Savine back. ‘I am so very sorry I let you down. I kept thinking … if I could have been there—’

‘I’m glad you weren’t. There was nothing anyone could do. Let’s not speak of it again. Let’s have everything … just as it was before.’ And Savine gave a brittle, queasy smile, as if that might be easier said than done. Broad knew how that went. ‘Were you able to help your brothers?’

‘Thanks to you. They came back with me.’ Zuri beckoned two men forward. Both dark-skinned like her, but otherwise they could hardly have been more different. ‘This is Haroon.’

Haroon was wide as a door, bald and bearded. He touched two fingers to his wide forehead, solemn as an undertaker, and spoke in about the deepest voice Broad had ever heard. ‘We thank God for your safe return, Lady Savine.’

‘And this is Rabik.’

Rabik couldn’t have been much older than May, slight and bright-eyed, glossy black hair to his collar. He gave a quick little bow, lots of teeth in an easy smile. ‘And we thank you for this refuge from the chaos in the South.’

‘I am very glad to have you with us,’ said Savine.

‘Your mother would like to see you, of course,’ said Zuri, ‘and there is a great deal in the book to discuss, but I thought you might want to bathe first.’

Savine closed her eyes and gave a ragged sigh. ‘By the Fates, how I’ve missed you. Bath, Mother, book, in that order.’

‘I will be up to help dress you as soon as your friends are settled. I … took the liberty of hiring a new face-maid.’

Savine swallowed. ‘Of course. And could you get me some pearl dust, Zuri? I need … a little something.’

Zuri squeezed her hand. ‘Already waiting for you.’

Broad watched Savine sweep away up the stairs. They were wide enough she could’ve been driven straight up them in the carriage. His eye was caught by the chandelier. Nearly blinded by its glittering, in fact. An upside-down mountain of twinkling Visserine glass. Dozens of candles, and each a fine ten-bit wax candle, too. He wondered what it cost to make. Wondered what it cost just to light each evening.

‘You must be the Broads.’

Zuri was studying him, no longer so welcoming, her black eyes hard and cautious. Broad couldn’t blame her. He and Liddy had lost the power of speech altogether. Fell to May to speak up for the family. That seemed to happen more and more.

‘I’m May, these are my parents Liddy and Gunnar.’ She raised her chin in a little gesture of defiance which made Broad feel strangely proud. ‘We looked after Lady Savine in Valbeck. Made sure she was safe.’

‘She and her parents will be extremely grateful. And no one ever did this family a favour or a wrong without being repaid triple. I understand you will be joining Lady Savine’s service?’

‘We’d like to,’ said Liddy.

‘She will make you work. She makes everyone work.’

‘Never been afraid of work,’ said May.

‘The Prophet says it is the best way into heaven, after all.’ She said it with a funny sort of smile, as if she wasn’t near so pious as the words implied, and led them through into a seemingly endless corridor. No gleaming marble, just whitewashed plaster and bare boards, but all orderly and smelling of soap. Even back here, Broad still felt a bit out of his class. A pair of girls walked past with armfuls of laundry, looking nervously at them as if they were animals got free of their cage. Maybe they were.

‘How many servants are there?’ asked May.

‘Nineteen in this house, and twelve guardsmen.’

Liddy’s eyes were nearly as wide as Broad’s must’ve been. ‘How many houses does she have?’

‘This is the townhouse of Lady Savine’s father, His Eminence the Arch Lector. Lady Savine spends much of her free time here, though she has very little.’ Zuri glanced quickly at a watch she wore on a chain around her neck and slightly upped the pace. ‘But she owns five houses of her own also. One in Adua which she uses for meetings of the Solar Society and other social functions, one in Keln, one in Angland, a small castle in the country near Starnlend and one in Westport.’ She leaned close to murmur. ‘But so far as I am aware, she has never actually been to that one.’

‘It’s a small castle,’ squeaked May in Broad’s ear.

They passed a kitchen where a woman was giving some dough a thorough pounding, another sawing away at some fish with a filleting knife. ‘How many people work for her?’ asked Liddy.