Within that establishment, Lord Golden kept his own cook and staff. Rumours of the rare wines and exotic dishes he served made his table clearly superior to the Queen’s own. While he dined with his chosen friends, the finest of Six Duchies minstrels and entertainers vied for his attention. It was not unusual to hear that he had invited a minstrel, a tumbler and a juggler to perform simultaneously, in different corners of the dining chamber. Such meals were invariably preceded and followed by games of chance, with the stakes set sufficiently high that only the wealthiest and most spendthrift of young nobles could keep pace with him. He began his days late and his nights finished with the dawn.
It was also rumoured that his palate was not the only sense he indulged. Whenever a ship that had stopped in Bingtown or Jamaillia or the Pirate Isles docked, it was certain to bring him a visitor. Tattooed courtesans, former Jamaillian slaves, slender boys with painted eyes, women who wore battle-dress and hard-eyed sailors came to his door, stayed closeted within his chambers for a night or three, and then departed on the ships again. Some said they brought him the finest Smoke herbs, as well as cindin, a Jamaillian vice recently come to Buckkeep. Others said they came to provide indulgence for his other ‘Jamaillian tastes’. Those who dared to ask about his guests received only an arch look or a coy refusal to answer.
Strange to say, his excesses seemed only to increase his popularity with a certain segment of the Six Duchies aristocracy. Many a noble youth was sternly called home from Buckkeep, or received a visit from a parent suddenly concerned about the amount of coin it was taking to keep a youngster at court. Amongst the more conservative, there was grumbling that the foreigner was leading Buckkeep’s youth astray. But what I sensed more than disapproval was a salacious fascination with Lord Golden’s excesses and immorality. One could trace the embroidery of the tales about him as they moved from tongue to tongue. Yet, at the base of each gossip tree was a root that could not be denied. Golden had moved into a realm of excess that no other had approached since Prince Regal had been alive.
I could not comprehend it and that troubled me greatly. In my lowly role of Tom Badgerlock, I could not call openly on such a lofty creature as Lord Golden, and he did not seek me out. Even when he spent the night in his Buckkeep Castle chambers, he filled them with guests and entertainers until the sky was greying. Some said he had shifted his dwelling to Buckkeep Town to be closer to those places that featured games of chance and depraved entertainment but I suspected he had moved his lair to be away from Chade’s observations, and that his foreign overnight guests were not for his physical amusement but rather spies and messengers from his friends to the south. What tidings did they bring him, I wondered, and why was he so intent on debasing his reputation and spending his fortune? What news did he give them to bear back to Bingtown and Jamaillia?
But those questions were like my ponderings on the Narcheska’s motivation for setting Prince Dutiful to slay the dragon Icefyre. There were no clear answers, and they only kept my thoughts spinning wearily during hours that would have been better spent in sleep. I looked up at the latticed windows of the Silver Key. My feet had brought me here with no guidance from my head. The upper chambers were well lit this night, and I could glimpse passing guests within the opulent chambers. On the sole balcony, a woman and a young man conversed animatedly. I could hear the wine in their voices. They spoke quietly at first, but then their tones rose in altercation. I knelt down as if fastening my shoe and listened.
‘I’ve a wonderful opportunity to empty Lord Verdant’s purse, but only if I have the money to set on the table to wager. Give me what you owe me, now!’ the young man demanded of her.
‘I can’t.’ The woman spoke in the careful diction of one who refuses to be drunk. ‘I don’t have it, laddie. But I soon will. When Lord Golden pays me what he owes me from his gaming yesterday, I’ll get your coin to you. Had I known you were going to be so usurious about it, I never would have borrowed it from you.’
The young man gave a low cry between dismay and outrage. ‘When Lord Golden pays you his wager? That’s as well as to say, “never”. All know he’s fallen behind in his debts. Had I known you were borrowing from me to wager against him, I’d never have loaned it.’
‘You flaunt your ignorance,’ she rebuked him after a moment of shocked silence. ‘All know his wealth is bottomless. When the next ship comes in from Jamaillia, he will have coin enough to pay us all.’
From the shadows at the corner of the inn, I watched and listened intently.
‘If the next ship comes in from Jamaillia … which I doubt, from the way the war is going for them … it would have to be the size of a mountain to bring enough coin to pay all he owes now! Haven’t you heard that he is even behind on his rent, and that the landlord only lets him stay on because of the other business he brings here?’
At his words, the woman turned from him angrily, but he reached out to seize her wrist. ‘Listen, you stupid wench! I warn you, I won’t wait long for what is owed me. You’d best find a way to pay me, and tonight.’ He looked her up and down and added huskily, ‘Not all of it need be in coin.’
‘Ah, Lady Heliotrope. There you are. I’ve been looking for you, you little minx! Have you been avoiding me?’
The leisurely tones of Lord Golden wafted down to me as he emerged onto the balcony. The light from behind him glanced off his gleaming hair and limned his slender form. He stepped to the edge of the balcony. Leaning lightly on the rail, he gazed out over the town below him. The man immediately released the woman’s wrist and she stepped back from him with a toss of her head and went to join Lord Golden at his vantage point. She cocked her head at him and sounded like a tattling child as she complained, ‘Dear Lord Golden, Lord Capable has just told me that there is little chance you will pay me our wager. Do tell him how wrong he is!’
Lord Golden lifted one elegant shoulder. ‘How rumours do fly, if one is but a day or so late in honouring a friendly wager. Surely one should never bet more than one can afford to lose … or afford to do without until paid. Don’t you agree, Lord Capable?’
‘Or, perhaps, that one should not wager more than one can immediately afford to pay,’ Lord Capable suggested snidely.
‘Dear, dear. Would not that limit our gaming to whatever a man could carry in his pockets? Small stakes, those. In any case, sweet lady, why do you think I was seeking you, if not to make good our bet? Here, I think, you will find a good part of what I owe you. I do hope you won’t mind if it is in pearls rather than coin.’
She tossed her head, dismissing the surly Lord Capable. ‘I don’t mind at all. And if there are those that do, well, then they should simply be content to wait for crass coin. Gaming should not be about money, dear Lord Golden.’
‘Of course not. The risk is the relish, as I say, and the winning is the pleasure. Don’t you agree, Capable?’
‘And if I did not, would it do me any good?’ Capable asked sourly. He and I had both noticed that the woman made no immediate effort to pay him his due.