Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 106
of a laughing woman. Nearby, a man with iron-grey hair
patted his hands on his velvet trousers, and tried again to mount
a pair of stilts held for him by two long-faced jugglers. A
small knot of red-skinned men were having an archery
competition, their target a melon on top of one of the poles.
Calandria May looked puzzled. "What's the occasion?"
she asked the servant leading their horse.
He looked back, arched his eyebrow, and said, "Aren't
you family?"
She hesitated almost imperceptibly. "Guests," she said.
"Of Inspector Boros. Our arrangement was made some weeks
ago, but we were delayed, I fear. It seems we've arrived at an
unfortunate moment."
The servant smiled arrogantly. "We have plenty of
room." He gestured to the manor.
This place put Castor's to shame. Massive fluted pillars
framed the entranceway, iron lamps perched upon their
capitals. They did not hold up a roof, but were open to the sky.
The building’s facade was of tan stone, filled with windows,
each framed by pillars. Statues posed on the rooftop corners,
and more stood in niches in the walls. Three storeys were
indicated by the windows, and by the width of the place it must
sprawl around a central courtyard large enough to hold Castor's
mansion.
Behind the profusion of chimneys on the roof, a bleak
grey fortress tower rose incongruously. Its sides did not curve
smoothly, but in juts and acute angles; it seemed to have been
built of stone triangles. Black stains like tear tracks wove
down its sides.
As the cart passed near a group of revellers, a tall woman
in severe black and scarlet excused herself and walked over.
The servant stopped them as she approached, and Lady May