“Ruar is not of age, and no other of the Teannasach's line has risen to leadership,” Callan said. “I will be glad of your sword, Lord Sorley.”
He looked at me then, and then, longer, at Cillian. His eyes returned to me. “Lena,” he said.
“Cohort-Leader, Emperor,” Turlo said. Callan nodded.
“Cohort-Leader,” he repeated. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Emperor. Thank you for my pardon,” I said. “You have no reason to beg forgiveness of your god, on my behalf.” I had tried to school my face to immobility, a soldier reporting to her superior, but I couldn't. I grinned as I said the words.
“Thank you for that courtesy, in remembering to tell me,” he said, a hint of dryness in his tone. He turned to Cillian. Their eyes met. Mine went from one to the other, seeing the likeness, seeing the question on Callan's face, and the waiting stillness on Cillian's.
“My Adjutant, Captain of the Third,” Turlo said quietly. “Without whom, Emperor, we would have failed. Make no mistake about that. That we reached Casil, that we brought back these ships and men: this is all due to Cillian. Who has skills in diplomacy that surpass yours, and who just happens to speak Casilan, and read it, too.” Turlo's voice had changed, to amused asperity. “And he will beat you at xache, and rival you with a bow. In the name of the god, Callan, my friend, welcome your son home.”
“No,” Cillian interrupted. “Not yet. Forgive me, Emperor, but I have one thing to say, first. You had a wish for me, you may remember. A wish that, because you made it in my mother's name, I tried to fulfil. Let men see and know a man who lives as he was meant to live.”
“I remember,” Callan said. “I am pleased to hear you tried. Did you succeed?”
“Ask these three,” Cillian said. “My respected superior officer; my dear friend, and the woman I love.” Callan's eyes widened, at that. “If I have not, then I will accept only a welcome from my Emperor. But if I have fulfilled that wish, then I will be honoured to be welcomed by my father, as well.”
“Do they know what that wish was?”
“Lena does. The others, no. You should be aware that I have known the lord Sorley for many years. He is possibly the best judge.”
Callan raised an eyebrow. “Lord Sorley,” he said. “I expressed a wish to Cillian, the night I exiled him. I had gathered some intelligence about him which, concisely put, described him as a cold and cynical man, a description he did not disagree with. I told him I hoped that in his exile he would find his humanity. Would you report to me on that?”
“Was that the impetus? I wondered,” Sorley said. “But to report, Emperor. That description was almost fair, and a year ago I too might have agreed. No longer. Cillian is annoyingly good at more things than are reasonable, and yet modest about most. He has a tendency towards self-sacrifice that needs watching, and a generosity of spirit unlike any I have known. He also has a biting sense of humour, and loves Lena beyond life itself, I believe. Is that sufficient, Emperor?”
Callan began to grin. “I think so. Turlo, do you have anything to add?”
“Not I. Nor to dispute, mind.”
“Lena?”
“I am afraid my judgement is skewed, Emperor, as I love him.” Callan nodded, slowly. I glanced up at Cillian. He was looking at his father, and as I watched, he began to smile, slowly, radiantly. A gift, I realized, to Callan, a memory. The girl who connected them was embodied in that smile; both had lost her, but only one of them had known her. Cillian could hear the stories now, and I thought Callan would tell them, if time and war allowed. I desperately hoped it did, for their sake, and for the child I carried, who was the thread that joined the future to the past.
Chapter Twenty
Sorley offered to stay at the jetty, to help sort out men and equipment. There would just be space, within the walls of the fort, for the tents the Casilani troops had brought. Between Sorley and Druisius, who understood more of our language than he spoke, they would help the officers assigned to this task get them settled and organized.
“Lena!” one of those officers called, as I walked along the jetty towards the fort buildings. I looked over to see Finn. I waved, grinning. I'd liked him, the weeks I'd spent at the Winter Camp.
Doors in the outer wall opened for us, and I followed my Emperor to his headquarters. The pattern of this fort, like Wall's End, followed the same template as the deserted fort beneath the lake, although years of use had added buildings and expanded the original rectangular shape.
Inside, Callan told us to sit. “There is to be no formality, today,” he insisted. “But food is short, so if you have eaten, I will not offer more. Wine is also in short supply, but we brew a beer that is palatable, after a fashion. Will that suit?” A cadet had followed us into the room, and at a word from Callan, went to fetch a jug of beer and mugs. He came back carrying the tray carefully.
Mugs distributed, and the cadet dismissed, Callan waved us to stools. He remained standing. “For an hour,” he said, “no talk of war, until Casyn joins us. I have sent word. He will be overjoyed to see you, as I am. Later we will find you rooms; there are other women here, Lena, and no doubt space can be made in their barracks for you.”
“Callan,” Turlo said, “a favour, if you would?”
“Of course,” Callan said. “How could I say no to you, just now? What is it you want?”
“This is irregular, but allow these two to remain together, if you can. I have my reasons for asking.”
“It is irregular,” Callan said slowly, “and they are both officers.”
“A law long abandoned in Casil,” Turlo told him.
“Turlo,” I said, “I—we—appreciate your kindness, but I am prepared to sleep with the other women. We knew this would be likely.” We had talked about it, in the last few days, neither of us liking the idea, but accepting it might be necessary.
“Barracks space will be assigned, and a private room found for Cillian,” Callan decided. “I know that beds assigned are not always beds slept in, and as Lena is under your command, Turlo, you are responsible for her discipline. Cillian I am claiming as adjutant and advisor to me, effective immediately. I do not police my officers' private lives. Will that suffice?”
“Aye, it will,” Turlo agreed.
“General, if I may?” I asked.
“Lena?”
“May I share a tent with Junia, from Casil? That would save rearranging beds in the barracks, and Junia will be understanding if I am...very late returning.” I would ask Sorley to speak to her.
“A sensible solution, lassie,” Turlo said. “I approve.”
“And do you, Cillian?” the Emperor asked.
“I would prefer no subterfuge, but I understand the need,” he answered. “And I appreciate the consideration. We are unused to being apart.” I saw the smile playing on his lips. “Which could be argued to be at least partially your responsibility, I suppose.”
Callan looked startled for a moment, before beginning to laugh. “I suppose it could, at that. An outcome that I did not expect, but, may I say, pleases me. Now, tell me of Casil.”
We spoke of the city, and the Empress, and what we had done there, for some time, drinking the thin beer. Callan barked with laughter when Turlo told him of Cillian's solution to the impasse between Casil and the Boranoi. By tacit consent, no one mentioned his desperate courting of the Empress, in the last days of our negotiations, although I wondered if Turlo would tell him, privately.
Turlo began to speak of the agreement itself. The Emperor held up his hand. “Wait,” he said. “Casyn should hear this too.”
“The agreement concerns Linrathe, too,” Cillian pointed out. “Should not the Teannasach's heir be present as well? And if so, then Sorley too, as he signed for Linrathe.”
“Ruar is only a boy,” Turlo protested.
“Perhaps. But when Donnalch was his age, his father was including him in meetings and talks, as an apprenticeship, you might say. Were not Ruar and Kebhan present for some
of the negotiations at the White Fort?”
“They were,” Callan agreed. “Should Kebhan hear the agreement's terms, too? His father was the last Teannasach, as misguided as he may have been. Kebhan swears he is loyal to Ruar, and Linrathe.”
“That depends on what message you want to send,” Cillian answered. “Does the leader of the Western Empire wish to make a clear declaration for Donnalch's direct line as the legitimate rulers of Linrathe, or be cautious, acknowledging that either boy has a claim, and the authority lies in the house, not the individual?”
“And which do you think I should do?”
Cillian shook his head. “I cannot speak for Linrathe, Callan. I have no right, nor ever did. I was always the neutral envoy, unsworn to Donnalch and his house. You must ask Sorley.”
“Kärestan,” I interrupted, purposely using the Linrathan word, “you may not allow yourself political views. But you are not neutral about the land of your birth. Can you not give the Emperor a private opinion?”
I am speaking out of turn in front of my Emperor, once again, I thought. I glanced at Callan, to gauge his displeasure at my intrusion. I need not have worried. He had not heard what I had said, past the first word.
“Kärestan,” he whispered. “I have not heard that word for thirty-five years.” No one spoke.
“Callan,” his son said into the silence. “I know now you did not leave her by choice. Only your oath to the Empire had a greater claim. I understand, finally.” He hesitated. “And I have some understanding, too, of the price you have paid, all these years.”
“Do you?”
“A small part. But may we leave that conversation for another time? It is better suited to a late night, and wine, if there is any to be had.”
“Aye,” Turlo said roughly. “There is wine; we brought it from Casil. Along with grain and oil. And when the supply ships are unloaded, they return to Casil, and they must take the agreement, with your signature, Callan, back to the Empress. We have a day, or two, no more.”
“You are right,” Callan said, focusing on Turlo. “I will consider your advice, Cillian, and consult my brother as well. But unless he has strong objections, I believe I will make the declaration in favour of Ruar.” He strode to the door, opening it. “Cadet! Go to the docks and find the Lord Sorley, and escort him here.” He began to close the door, then stopped. “Ah,” he said, “Casyn. Excellent timing. Come in and greet the travellers.”
Casyn's first embrace was for Turlo, but his second was for me. “Lena,” he said, “I am so pleased to see you safe and returned to us.” I couldn't speak. I hugged him tightly, smiling through tears.
He turned to Cillian, who was standing, quietly waiting. “And you, Cillian,” Casyn said. “Welcome home. We need you.”
“I am glad to be here,” Cillian said, gravely. Casyn continued to look at him.
“It is uncanny,” he said finally. “Like looking back into the past.”
“Aye,” Turlo said. “And it was worse when he wore grey and white, his court clothes in Casil. But your father's line always left a strong stamp.”
“I would be pleased to hear of this, one day,” Cillian said drily. “But have we not more important things to discuss, just now?”
Will you look like these men, little one? I said to the baby in my womb. This is your grandfather and his brother.
“Yes, we do,” Turlo said. He took a rolled vellum from his pack. The copies of the agreement—one to be signed and sent back, one for Callan to keep—had been delivered to us just before we sailed, the Empress's signature in place. He spread it out on a table, weighing down the edges.
A discreet tap at the door announced Sorley's arrival. He was introduced to Casyn, and given a drink, before Callan posed the question of Linrathe's heir to him.
“I think,” Sorley said after consideration, “that we should go over the agreement first, so that we are sure of our positions, and the reasons for the concessions made to Casil. Even if there are disagreements, it would be better for us to be clear on those, than argue in front of the boy.”
“But you believe Ruar is the rightful heir?”
“I do,” Sorley said firmly. “When I left Linrathe, it was his name that was spoken as a rallying point. Kebhan would be forever tainted by his father's treachery.”
“You are likely right,” Callan said. “Casyn, your thoughts?”
“I agree with Lord Sorley,” he answered. “What does Cillian think?”
“I had not answered,” Cillian said. “But I will tell you now, as your advisor, I too agree with Sorley.”
“Then shall we go through the agreement?” Callan asked. “Although I see you must translate it.”
“This is the one you must sign,” Cillian said, “but there is a copy in our language, in Turlo's keeping. I made it on the ship. Sorley has confirmed the translation is accurate.”
“As best I could,” Sorley clarified. “I am not fluent in Casilan. But the major points are correct.”
It took well over an hour to go through the agreement. I sat quietly, knowing I had little part in this, watching the men. The Emperor and Casyn, pragmatic and seasoned, showed little emotion, although both the primacy of the Eastern Empire's laws, and the change in Callan's title, evoked response. Turlo and Cillian answered questions and rebutted arguments calmly. Only once did the Emperor turn to me.
“You signed this, Lena, on behalf of the Empire's women?”
“I did, Emperor. The end of the Partition agreement was under consideration already, I felt, and while this is more sudden, and not of our doing, the result is the same.”
He nodded. “And almost an unnecessary part of the agreement, as our laws give way to Casil's.” He picked up a pen. “This will be my last act as Emperor of the West, then, to sign this agreement. Princip will take some getting used to.”
“Wait, please,” Cillian said. “There is one aspect of this you may not have considered, and as it directly affects me, I would like us to be clear on its implications.”
“Explain.”
“By the East's laws, Princip will be a hereditary position. I am your heir, Callan, and I have no wish at all to lead the Empire one day. No wish, and no military skills to do so. The Marai will remain a threat, in our lifetimes. I ask that we add a clause removing me from the inheritance in favour of your brother. If Casyn will accept that, of course.” I heard Turlo's sound of protest.
The Emperor put the pen down. “That is a very great thing to ask,” he said, “and I will need to consider it carefully. But for you to be thrust into a role you neither want nor have been trained for is also large. I do see that. Casyn and I are close in age, though, and even outside of war, we could die within a year or two of each other. His children are daughters. Who would succeed, then?”
“Casil has an Empress,” Cillian pointed out. “Cannot the Western Empire have a Principe? Even as regent for her son, if there is one?”
“What of your own children?” Callan asked. “Should you give away their rights to succeed?”
I tried not to react. It is a theoretical question, I told myself. I sat very still. Cillian, I saw, was taken aback by the query. He gave a low laugh. “Not something I had considered,” he admitted. His eyes met mine. “Perhaps,” he said, “there are some conversations that need to occur, before this can be resolved. Casyn, are your daughters here?”
“One is. One is on the Wall. But Talyn is the oldest, and the one I could see as regent, at least. She was not a soldier, until this last year, but Han breeds and trains the Empire's warhorses and her knowledge of weapons and tactics is considerable. Would you consider a joint regency, Cillian, for either her child, or yours?”
“Perhaps. There are other considerations. I was born and brought up in Linrathe. And I am a pardoned exile. Would not both those be reasons to pass me over, even if I wished to succeed?”
“Possibly,” Callan said. “But your children, I am assuming, would also be Lena's, and she is a woman of the Emp
ire.”
“And also a pardoned exile,” I said.
Callan shook his head. “History can be rewritten. It would not be hard to spread the story that the exile was never real, but a way to send you East without raising suspicions.” Half-truths, I thought, once again.
“I suggest we leave this until we have had a chance for some private speech.” Casyn said.
“The supply ships will not leave tomorrow,” Sorley told us. “That gives you a day, or a bit more.”
“Then we leave it,” Callan decided. “But we need a decision in the morning. And we bring Ruar into the discussion only after that.”
We moved to the large table, a map spread out on it. Small figures, like xache pieces painted different colours, stood on the surface. Along the coast, and inland for nearly half the distance between the coast and the mountains, the figures were blue. East of a rough line running from Casilla to the Wall, and along the Wall itself, green figures representing the Empire spread across the map.
“We hold Casilla, as you see,” the Emperor said, “and all lands inland from about here.” He traced the irregular line. “Of the women's villages, only Han and Rigg are known to be safe, but their women are scattered too, serving on the Wall or here. I am sorry, Lena,” he added, glancing my way. “Most of the retired officers and men have returned to duty; Jedd, for one, advises me, and rides patrols, for all he is past eighty. We hold the Wall, with help from Linrathe's loyalists, and last I heard that included the Wall's End Fort, although the price we paid to do that was very high.” Berge, I thought. He let the Marai take Berge, to save Wall's End.
“My thoughts, with these reinforcements from the East, are to use the men and boats in two ways: to send the ships along and around the coast, pushing the Marai ahead of them. Casil's ships are larger and stronger than the Marai's, and the decks higher, which gives them an advantage in combat. The Marai fight with sword and axe, and are vulnerable to archers.
“At the same time, I send troops overland, towards the Taiva, to push the Marai occupying the land back to the river. If we can engage them in battle here,” he pointed to a spot a distance up from the mouth of the river, “where the land rises to the north, we have a good chance of destroying many ships and men, if we choose our time. There are shoals at the mouth of the Taiva, but the Marai ships are light and can pass over them at high tide. But if we fight to an ebbtide, we can prevent them from moving out again, I believe.”
Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy Page 99
