Read Online The Orphans' Promise by Pierre Grimbert - Free Book Online

study and itemize its features in his mind.
    The person who had renamed it was gifted with a certain sense of humor. If this palace was supposed to be small, it could only be so in comparison to the royal residence. The Small Palace reached a height of five floors, whereas few Lorelien residences had even four. And no less than eleven large windows could be counted on each level. The entire building could have easily housed twenty families.
    The architecture was representative of Lorelia’s grand buildings: pilasters, cornices, windows as high as they were narrow, little balconies. All built of solid stone from Cyr’s quarries. The Small Palace was more than six hundred years old, but looked like it was completed no more than ten years ago.
    The Royal Commerce Commissioner was no longer housed there, although the apartments remained. For two centuries, the greater part of the building had been home to the study halls of the kingdom’s clerks: all the regular administrators, archivists, bureaucrats, scribes, managers, registrars, and others who were indispensable to the stability and prosperity of the merchant nation.
    Entry into the palace was free, and every day hundreds of traders went inside to carry out certain obligatory declarations and procedures. The seventh day of the dékade was the exception. On that day, only the clerks were permitted to enter, and those wishing to take part in the indoor market.
    Grigán slowly followed Rey up the fifteen steps leading to the excessively decadent porch. A lone guard, who may have been sleeping, was supposedly monitoring the comings and goings between the entrance hall and the outside.
    “During the market,” Rey whispered in the warrior’s ear, “the hall is guarded by six jelenis, the royal rank of dog masters. They always choose their most vicious dogs. No one could ever hope to enter or leave by force.”
    The narrow entrance hall led to a sumptuous receiving room, built entirely of embossed marble. At the entryway, they passed the desk of a drudge clerk, who paid them no attention.
    “This is where you will pay the right of entry and surrender your arms,” Rey explained, pointing toward the desk.
    “Excuse me?”
    “I can pretty well imagine how hard that will be for you,” chuckled the actor. “Just remember that the Züu will have to endure the same punishment.”
    Two spiral staircases led to the upper floors. Rey dragged the warrior up the first one. They passed through a splendid arch and found themselves standing under a portico encircling a huge interior courtyard.
    The courtyard most closely resembled a garden or a small park, full of lush flowerbeds and green fields. The illusion of wilderness had been pared back inside the courtyard, though, as none of the trees, flowers, bushes, grass, or ivy that grew there were truly wild. Everything was straight, trimmed, and “disciplined” according to mankind’s aesthetic needs.
    A walkway snaked its way through this domesticated patch of wilderness, leading from one marble bench to another, as if the pedestrians would need to stop for a break every fifteen feet. Thick, judiciously arranged séda hedges acted as walls. Some ofthem served as partitions, too, creating small open-air lounges with tables, benches, and fountains.
    “Here it is. This is where it all happens. The traders are free to walk around and sit where they like. Auctions and displays aren’t allowed, but I don’t think we’ll need that, will we?”
    “I was under the impression you had never taken part. You seem to know your fair share about it.”
    “Don’t forget that this is my hometown, Grigán. It’s only natural that I should know its ins and outs.”
    The warrior nodded, observing the surroundings. “Anyone can come in here with a concealed weapon,” he commented. “We won’t be safe.”
    “Of course, they expect this possibility. Archers patrol along the balcony above the portico. They’re under strict order to shoot