The Dark Glory War Read Online Free Page B

together in many exercises, thereby becoming friends.
    “As my father says, Rounce, ‘It’s not the man in the prettiest uniform before the battle that’s remembered, but the man who’s still standing after it.’ You’re one of those who will still be standing.”
    “Only if you’re holding me up.” Rounce slapped me on the arm. “By the way, be prepared. You were missed at dinner and Leigh might be in a bit of a mood.”
    “And this would be unusual because … ?”
    Rounce laughed, then pointed up at the top of the stairs. “You’ll see. Here’s our little Leigh now.”
    The echoes of the staff reverberated through the hall. It took the third staff-strike to kill the murmuring voices, and the fourth buried them in silence. The chamberlain waited a heartbeat or two to guarantee no ghost of conversation lingered, then made his announcement. “I present Lord Bosleigh Norrington.”
    Leigh, at the top of the stairs, bowed handsomely as hearty applause washed over him. The night’s dress code had required us to wear something other than our moonmasks that was white—which Rounce and I accomplished with our shirts. Leigh had gone a considerable step further, decked out in a full jacket made of white satin, with lace at the throat and cuffs. His pants likewise were white satin and ran down to his knees, where they met white stockings. His shoes, which were low cut, had been cobbled together from white leather and had big silver buckles.
    He descended the stairs at a leisurely pace, smiling and waving at those below, bowing his head at the spectators above. Leigh was in his element, with all eyes on him. It had been that way since his birth, to hear my father tell it, since he was Lord Norrington’s firstborn and a son. The boy had grown into a man used to such attention, who was, in many ways, uncomfortable when he didn’t get it.
    Rounce and I looked at each other and laughed as Leigh reached the floor. He continued to make his way toward us, pausing to bow to the girls who giggled at him. His progress through the crowd took long enough for me to nearly finish my wine. Rounce had started on another full goblet by the time Leigh arrived.
    Leigh bumped against me, then looked up and smiled. “Oh, Tarrant, there you are—I’d expected you to be off eating something. And you, Rounce.”
    I grinned. “Make it sound as if you weren’t looking for us.”
    “Well, I was, of course, my dear friends, but I can’t letthem know that.” His eyes rolled up to sweep the spectators’ gallery. “It would not do to let them think I am so fragile that I cannot exist without my friends.”
    Rounce rolled his eyes. “Keep talking like that and you won’t have any friends.”
    “Don’t be offended. You know I jest.”
    “Just a little too often, Leigh.” I stepped out of the way to provide Leigh access to the wine table. “Your pleasure, my lord?”
    Leigh sniffed and moved past me. “Well, arriving is such dry work …”
    I glanced past him at the spectators’ gallery and did feel a little uneasiness coil in my stomach. All the spectators wore fine clothes, but they were cut from cloth dyed bright red. Their masks covered their faces in full and were without decoration, completely obscuring their identities. While some individuals, like the Assembly Speaker, were corpulent or remarkable enough to be recognizable, most of the observers sank into a red sea of anonymity. They were there not to be seen, but to watch us and decide our fate. What they saw at any point might determine which regiment would offer me a chance to join it, or what merchant house might vie for my services. Leigh’s concern over the spectators mocked their import, since his life was already decided. It dawned on me immediately that I had no such assurances, so I finished my wine and began looking for a woman to guide to the dance floor and show I could be well mannered.
    Leigh managed, in that moment, to provide me an opportunity to show off my more martial side. He’d been making his way