Cast in Peril
Page 15
“Oh.”
“The Sorcerer, however, did not survive it.”
“…Oh.” She glanced at the small dragon, who was staring at the images as if they were fascinating. “How did he die?”
“It is not recorded. Ah, no, it is recorded, but the words used, besides death, are not clear to me.”
Kaylin nodded. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“There is. I am not entirely certain they are not related, although at the moment, I can point at no concrete reason why they should be. You said the creature ate one of the marks on your arms.”
“Yes. Just after he hatched.”
“Has he repeated this since?”
“No.”
“Has he, that you are aware of, eaten anything else?”
“…No. He chews at things on my plate when he’s bored. Or at least when I think he’s bored. The chewing changes the shape of the food, but not much of it seems to be missing.”
“So, at the moment, in the past two days, the only sustenance the creature has had is one mark from your arm.”
She nodded.
“Has it shown any further sign of hunger?”
“No.”
“Does that strike you as natural?”
“I don’t know—snakes don’t eat three meals a day.”
The Arkon chose to ignore this. “You are going to the West March to hear, to witness and experience, what you call a True Tale.”
She nodded.
“Do you not feel even the slightest concern about his reaction to the words of that tale?”
* * *
Kaylin blinked. The small dragon flicked her ear with its tail. “No,” she finally admitted. “Not until now.”
He rose after a long, weary sigh. “I suggest you consider it. If you cannot command the creature—and it seems clear to me, from brief observation, that this is the case—you may find the recitation of the regalia more challenging than even the High Court could predict.”
She hesitated.
“Private?”
“Did anything happen to Bellusdeo today?”
One pale brow rose. “Define ‘happen.’”
“She’s not happy.”
“I can’t imagine why. She has lost her home, her people, and the stewardship of a large country; she has arrived in the place of her birth centuries after she left it. The Imperial Court is uncertain of her disposition—and frankly, that takes a great deal of effort—and she is uncertain of her future in the Court. Anyone she knew in her childhood, save only myself, is now either dead or sleeping. She has asked permission to attempt to awaken two; it has been refused.
“The formality the Court has adopted displeases her; she feels it is in keeping with Barrani traditions, and she has far less love of the Barrani than even Lord Diarmat.” He stopped in the doorway and lifted a hand to grip its frame. “She will adjust, Private, but it is not easy. The two people to whom she feels closest at the moment are absent; one is in the fief of Tiamaris, and one is about to leave the Palace for at least six weeks. She petitioned the Emperor for permission to accompany you and was informed that she would have to petition the High Court.
“This was, of course, before the…incident. Even were the High Lord to grant that dispensation—and it is highly doubtful—she would not be permitted to leave without…some anger. She cannot fly in this City unless she is within the aerial boundaries of Tiamaris, which is not large for the span of her wings.”
Kaylin raised a hand as he drew breath. “I’m sorry. I get it.”
“You are willing to accept the loss of freedom, because in your earlier life, absent Imperial Law and Imperial dictate, you felt you had none. It is not as simple for Bellusdeo. She was caged when she existed in the Shadowlands; she is caged here in a different way. I have spoken with the Court,” he added, his voice softening. “And I have made clear that she is not a cage bird. But she is of value, Kaylin. If we are immortal, if we have forever, she exists as hope and possibility only so long as she lives.
“You may think the Arcane bomb was not significant enough to kill her.”
Privately, Kaylin did.
“Bellusdeo is also of that opinion. Lord Sanabalis, however, is not.”
“Why?”
“It is his suspicion that without the magical interference of the hatchling, the bomb would have destroyed the city block in which it was detonated. The magical signature, while recognizable, is strangely muted. The Imperial Order of Mages is less certain, but at least one mage concurs with Sanabalis; he feels the power was leeched from the area of effect at precisely the moment it began to expand. I am not certain a more definitive answer can be achieved.”
“You told Bellusdeo this.”
“I believe Lord Emmerian was tasked with informing her. She accepted the information, but has since demanded to know why the Arcanum is still standing.”
It was a question that would have been very familiar in the Halls. “I’ll talk to her,” she said.
“I would consider it a…personal…favor. If she were not the only female, I fear she would have chosen to take the long sleep of our kind.”
“And that’s not an option now?”
“It is an option. We cannot prevent it should she so decide, not easily and not cleanly. But if she struggles and argues, she is aware of her responsibility. I do not think she will force that option until Maggaron, at least, is dead.”
Kaylin headed toward the door, paused, and then said, “You like her, don’t you?”
“That is almost impertinent, Private Neya. But as I have asked you a favor, I will overlook it. Yes. It is possible that I have become sentimental in my dotage.”
“Immortals don’t have a dotage.”
“It is a figure of speech. We do not, as you imply, grow weak or forgetful with age, no. But even in our lives, we know innocence and ignorance. Bellusdeo was born in my youth. She—and her sisters—were the definition of difficult; their lack of respect was accepted, barely, because they were both female and young. In my youth, I may have found some of the rules that governed the Aerie more restrictive than I would now. Bellusdeo frequently circumvented those rules and tweaked the noses of those who attempted to forcefully apply them.
“She is not so very different now, but now she knows loss. She cannot easily become the girl she was, but those are the only memories she has of this land. I appreciated her, yes. I do not wish to see her suffer.”
* * *
Bellusdeo was waiting in the first of the large rooms near the entrance to their quarters. A rectangular rug lay above the dark wood planking, navy blue broken by colorful interlocking patterns, beneath the heavy chairs strategically scattered about the room. There were windows, in a curved bow, to the left of where the Dragon sat, back toward their half-
curtained view. A fire was burning in a fireplace that ran half the length of the wall; it was surrounded by a mantel above which a wide, long painting sat. It was of a seascape, absent people.
Bellusdeo didn’t look up when Kaylin entered the room; she didn’t look up when Kaylin took the nearest chair and sat in it. She looked up only when the small dragon, grumbling, pulled himself off Kaylin’s shoulder and flew more or less directly at her face. Kaylin, horrified, shot out of her seat and tried to grab him; he was remarkably fast and easily evaded her hands.
He didn’t evade the words that followed, but she wasn’t sure he understood many of them. On the other hand, with her luck, he’d learn to speak and those would be the first words out of his mouth. While she was in company.
Bellusdeo, however, laughed, and the sound was arresting; she was, momentarily, delighted at the small, darting creature and Kaylin’s total inability to exert any control over his flight. When she managed to stop laughing, she looked up at Kaylin; her eyes were an odd shade of copper. She wasn’t angry; she simply wasn’t happy. Kaylin wasn’t certain if Dragon eyes had a color that meant sadness; she couldn’t imagine any other Dragon of her acquaintance feeling it.
“If you feel like walking the City under an escort of the Imperial Palace guard, Lord Emmerian, and a random mage, I’d be delighted.”
“That sounds…grim.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Bellusdeo rose. “I’m sorry. I owe you at least fifty apologies. I’m going to be terrible company, and I drove your Corporal out of the rooms the minute I entered them.”
“He’s used to worse.”
One golden brow formed a distinct arch.
“What about if we had a small escort of Imperial Hawks instead?”
The other brow joined it. They both fell as the Dragon’s eyes narrowed. “I fail to see how this is going to be helpful.”
“Some of them will be Barrani?”
Her silence was expected and chilly. Her eyes, however, didn’t shift color. “I am not fond of Barrani.”
“No. Most Dragons aren’t.”
“And they’re considered so harmless by mortals that ‘going out’ with them is natural?”
“No. But they’re Hawks first, Barrani second. Some of them are even my friends.”
“You refer to Teela and Tain?”
“I do.”
Her head tilted, she thought about this for two minutes. “I will ask Lord Sanabalis.”
“Ask the Arkon instead.”
* * *
Teela and Tain appeared at the palace in under half an hour. Kaylin knew this because the Seneschal’s face was a distinctly ashen shade when his presence was announced by the door ward. The Hawks hadn’t been escorted to the door, either; they’d been left in the main hall, where the density of Palace guards had no doubt severely and suddenly increased.
Bellusdeo was no longer wearing the expensive silks and dyes of clothing suitable for a Lord of the Court; she was, instead, wearing clothing suitable for a trip to the market. Getting that clothing had been a challenge; Kaylin wasn’t certain how she’d managed it. Then again, she was capable of some magic; maybe it was illusory.
Kaylin’s clothing wasn’t. “You’re sure about this?” she asked as they followed the agitated Seneschal down the long hall.
Bellusdeo smiled. Cats could only dream of having a smile like that. It lasted until Teela and Tain came into view, whereupon it stiffened without actually falling off her face. “You are certain you trust them?”
“With my life. Not, sadly, with my dignity.”
“Very wise,” Teela said from down the hall. “We’ve been instructed by the Hawklord to curb the most egregious examples of self-indulgence.” Kaylin could almost hear the Hawklord’s voice.
“You’re off duty.”
“And if we don’t wish to remain that way permanently, we’re going to compromise a little.” She smiled her best smile, which sadly was all edges. Her eyes, however, were emerald-green. “Lady Bellusdeo. You are not enjoying your sojourn in the Imperial Palace?”
“No more than you enjoy your visits to the High Halls,” the Dragon replied in a chillier tone.
Teela laughed. “A fair reply. I can honestly say I’ve never met a Dragon Lord like you.”
Bellusdeo’s smile lost some of its chill. “I hope I haven’t been too large a disappointment.”
“Disappointment? No. I owe you a debt,” she added. “I haven’t been bored for weeks now.”
As compliments went, it was third-class. Or at least that’s how Kaylin felt about it. One look at Bellusdeo’s expression made clear that Kaylin was not a Dragon; she seemed genuinely pleased.
Kaylin stared at the two of them, then glanced at Tain, who was smiling his lazy, broad smile. “What you don’t understand, and won’t no matter how often we explain it, is the role boredom has in our lives. We live forever, if we can defend ourselves. We’ve seen everything. Life loses urgency. Loss dims, humor dims. If we say someone’s not boring, it is an accolade.” This was more than Tain usually said in a night out, probably because it was hard to get a word in edgewise when Teela was speaking.
Bellusdeo nodded. “It is not meant as an insult, nor is it meant as a backhanded compliment.” Her smile brightened. “Come, let’s go out into your city and alleviate boredom.”
Kaylin, slowly trailing behind, wondered why this had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
* * *
When she entered the office the next morning, she was appalled at how noisy it was. She was also dimly aware that the noise level hadn’t changed. Severn, idling at his desk, glanced up from a very neat pile of paperwork. When he caught sight of her face, his brows rose.
“You went out drinking with Teela and Tain.”
“Yes.”
“Why? It had to be your idea—they wouldn’t let Barrani, even Hawks, anywhere inside the Palace.”
“Bellusdeo was in a bad mood.”
“…So you took her drinking with Teela.”
“For the first pub, yes. By the end of it, I was trying to get her to go back home. By that point, she wasn’t listening.”
“Was she drinking?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it had much effect on her.”
“Was there—”
“They didn’t start an all-out brawl, no. There were two fights. They were short. Bellusdeo finished one of them.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Good.”
“I want plausible deniability.”
“Very funny.” She sat at her desk. “I want water.”
* * *
The truth, once the headache had subsided a bit, was that she didn’t regret the evening. Teela was in a better mood than she’d been in since Margot had all but destroyed the investigation into the Exchequer, and Bellusdeo had returned to their apartment with eyes of radiant gold. Sadly, she’d entered the Palace humming a ditty with extremely questionable lyrics, and she smelled like pipe smoke. It was Kaylin who’d received the dirty looks, of course.
Chapter 11
Three days later, the journey to the West March did not start at a reasonable hour. In theory, the caravan was to leave at dawn. In practice, it did. But as usual, wedged between theory and practice was the fact that the pilgrims were expected to meet at the High Halls, prepared for the voyage, before that dawn arrived. Kaylin, whose body considered morning to be somewhere around the vicinity of noon when it had a choice, managed to make it on time, in part because Severn dropped by the Palace. He didn’t have keys, of course, but apparently didn’t need them to make it as far as the door.
The door ward announced Severn’s presence in a voice that could wake the dead. It certainly caused Kaylin to roll out of bed and reach for the knives she no longer wore in her sleep. Bellusdeo had a bed but hadn’t bothered to use it. She had helped Kaylin pack, although help was a very subjective word.
“I’ve ordered a carriage,” she told Kaylin as she handed her the pack. “It will take you as far as the High Halls. I do not believe it will be allowed onto the grounds.”
“If we’re lucky, it’ll be allowed onto the block.”
Bellusdeo winced. “That is possibly correct.” She led them to the doors and stopped there, looking pensive and almost entirely unlike a Queen. “I wish I could go with you,” she said. It was wistful, not whiny; she knew why it was impossible.
Kaylin hugged her tightly.
“Thank you for your suggestion the other night,” Bellusdeo said. “Even in my own kingdom, there was very little activity that was that…casual. Your Barrani friends are interesting, Kaylin. Inasmuch as Barrani are capable of caring, I think they care for you. Teela is going with you.”
“Yes.”
“Try to observe what she does. Try to mimic the parts that are unlikely to cause friction.”
“I’ll assume you don’t mean get drunk and start fights.”
Bellusdeo smiled. “She is unlikely to do either among her kin. I do not believe she relishes the opportunity to travel to the West March, either.”
“We can
go out somewhere when I get back. Just promise to remind me to drink less next time.”
The smile deepened. Bellusdeo hugged her tightly and then pushed her gently but inexorably out the door.
* * *
The caravan, as Teela had called it, was in the main unlike any caravan Kaylin, as a Hawk, had inspected. The Barrani, clearly, did nothing common. There were wagons, yes, but the wagons were enclosed in colorful cloth—white, green, and gold with hints of various shades of brown that suggested tree bark without ever descending to its solidity. The wheels were slender and high; the driver’s seat, in colors that matched the cloth, wide and—to her admittedly inexperienced eye—comfortable.
There were also carriages. Kaylin had seen Barrani carriages before; these were similar, although their colors were different. They matched the gaudy, bright colors of the wagon coverings. The crest that was usually engraved, or painted, or both, on the doors was different, as well.
“It’s the insignia of the Lord of the West March,” Teela said.
Kaylin jumped and spun.
“You chose that dress, did you?”
To Kaylin, the dresses were pretty much of a kind. They were soft, light, and possessed long skirts that nonetheless allowed almost full freedom of movement. This one was a cream color. Most of the others were much, much brighter than Kaylin’s normal wear; none of them were black. “Yes, why? It was one of the ones you sent to me; I thought they’d all be acceptable.”
“It’s the most…drab.”
Bellusdeo had said something similar, which Kaylin recalled. “Look, Teela, I don’t want to draw a lot of attention.”
“Well, you could be dressed irreproachably and you would still draw attention. First: you are not Barrani, and we are going to the West March. Second, and of vastly more import, you have not managed to leave your small companion behind.”
Kaylin ignored the last comment. “I don’t notice you criticizing Severn’s clothing.”
“Because Severn’s clothing, while conservative, is not inappropriate.”
“Damn it, neither is mine!”
“And he doesn’t respond to teasing at all. He’s both attractive and very boring at the same time.”