Thessalyn shook her head. “Not in the way you think. I mean that to him, sex is just the price he has to pay for…I’m not sure—comfort, security, reassurance. Silveo wants more than anything to feel safe, and he never feels safe, Gerard. I think the closest he comes is when he’s with us.”
That made Gerard laugh. “Thess, you see good in everyone, even when it’s not there.”
“Not true. I just think it’s never too late for anyone.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s cruel to all kinds of shelts?”
“Cruelty always bothers me, Gerard. Pain always bothers me. I fix it whenever I can reach it.”
He stroked her head. “You’re better at picking your battles than I am.”
“Comes of being blind and female,” she said.
That made him think of something else. “Thess, did you feel like you had a choice when you made love to me the first time? Or when you married me?”
“Hmmm.” He could feel her frown against his neck. “Did I have a choice? I suppose it would be easier to answer that question if I hadn’t been madly in love with you.”
Her response didn’t make Gerard feel any better. It occurred to him that Silveo and Thessalyn had both grown up in the lower echelons of society—a place that was foreign to him.
Thessalyn broke into his thoughts. “Silveo doesn’t think anyone has any real choices—or not many, at least. He thinks maybe shelts like you have a few choices, although he’s skeptical.”
“But you don’t think that, do you?” persisted Gerard. “I mean, I didn’t make you feel that way…did I?”
“You make me feel alive,” said Thessalyn, hugging him tight. “You make me feel like I can fly, like I can see, like I can walk on water. Please don’t be sorry for loving me, Gerard.”
Chapter 24. Port Holovarus
The so-called winged wolves of Maijha Minor are not wolves, nor are they quadropedavia—creatures with four legs and two wings. They are sometimes called blood bats, and this is perhaps more accurate, as they do live exclusively on blood. The creatures can grow nearly as tall as a shelt’s waist, and they have a long fifth toe, which folds upwards when they are running along the ground. A thick flap of skin connects this toe to a point near their hips, forming a “wing.” Although they prefer to glide for short distances, they are capable of true flight, via a double-jointed shoulder that allows them to lock the wing in place. They can speak, but have no shelts as far back as history and their own legends record. They are shy and secretive and usually live in large colonies in the cliffs of Maijha Minor.
—Gwain, The Non-grishnards of Wefrivain
They arrived in Port Holovarus on the fourth morning after the storm. The little bay looked smaller than Gerard remembered it—the castle, just visible on the hilltop, grayer. He doubted that the port had ever seen a ship the size of the Fang. Peasants in their fishing boats stood to gawk as Farell maneuvered in around the reef. Gerard knew almost all of them. He doubted he could avoid being recognized, so he didn’t try.
They anchored well out from the shallow edges of the bay and waited. Several of the fishing boats came up cautiously to learn the identity of their visitor. It didn’t take long for an official sloop to put off from the pier and come gliding over the water towards them. Gerard could feel a knot in his belly. He’d never wanted to come back here. He glanced at Silveo up on the quarterdeck. This is a fine way to repay me for saving the ship!
The knot in his belly turned to ice when he saw the first shelt over the side. Jaleel.
“Gerard!” cried the other. “Come home at last, have you? With your tail between your legs, I hope.”
Gerard said nothing. His hand was itching for his sword.
“I hope you didn’t bring that whore with you,” continued Jaleel. He was a little shorter than Gerard with the same large dark eyes, but lighter hair.
Silveo came strolling down from the quarterdeck at that moment, wearing his most dangerous smile. “I don’t usually let shelts call me that on my own ship,” he said cheerfully. “In fact, come to think of it, I use shelts who call me that as fishing weights.”
Gerard glanced at him. For Silveo to willingly own an insult intended for Thessalyn made him feel absurdly grateful.
Jaleel blanched. “S-sir,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean— I meant—”
“You doubtless have confused us with another ship,” continued Silveo. “As anxious as you may be for whores, we are not that kind of merchant. In fact, we’re not a merchant at all. As any fool who didn’t grow up in a wyvern-forsaken backwater could see, this is the Fang of the Temple Sea Watch, and we are in need of supplies. Please go tell your harbormaster that my quartermaster will wait upon him shortly, and if your king isn’t a complete fool, he might think of inviting us to dinner. Now get off my ship.”
Jaleel tried again to apologize, but Silveo had already turned and stalked away. “Is he still talking?” he said loudly to Farell. “Someone go toss him overboard.”
The sloop departed in some haste, and Gerard watched them sail away. Silveo was grinning from ear to ear. “Your brother?” he asked Gerard.
“My brother,” said Gerard with a faint smile.
“Charming.” Silveo was positively gleeful. “Did you see the color he turned when I came down on deck?”
“I saw,” said Gerard, who was beginning to realize that Silveo’s purpose in coming here might not have been to torment him after all.
“Is your father anything like you at all, Gerard?”
Gerard thought for a moment. “He looks like me.”
Alsair piped up behind him. “Yeah, but you’re not a total bastard.”
“A good point,” said Silveo.
It was all Gerard could do to keep from gaping. You just said something to Alsair! You never say anything to Alsair! Gerard licked his lips. “My father only thinks in terms of what’s good for Holovarus. Usually that means cowries, but sometimes other things. Public relations, appearances—”
“Marriages,” supplied Silveo.
Gerard nodded.
“Good enough. He’ll invite us to dinner. He’ll have to. It would look terrible otherwise.” Silveo walked off to his cabin humming.
Chapter 25. Shinies and Lord Holovar
Zeds are zebra shelts, and evidence suggests that they are not long-time residents of Wefrivain at all, but were imported from the Lawless Lands for hunting on Maijha Minor. They have some traits in common with the hunti, including a female-dominated warrior culture. Of all the creatures living on Maijha Minor, the zeds seem to embrace their predicament most readily. They regard themselves as hunters of grishnards, rather than game animals.
—Gwain, The Non-grishnards of Wefrivain
Silveo reappeared half a watch later dressed in his zed-skin pants and frilly, white silk shirt. He wore a red felt hat with a monstrous canary yellow plume, a pegasus-skin cape of brilliant purple and gold feathers, and his bright yellow boots. He had three earrings in one ear and five in the other, in a variety of shapes and colors. He’d braided tiny golden bells on golden thread into his tail and re-kohled his eyes so that the pale blue irises flashed in the fading light.
Gerard stared at him. Silveo grinned back. “Do I look like a more expensive version of something from the pleasure districts of Sern?”
“I wouldn’t have said it that way.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t. You would have just grimaced and given me that look.”
“What look?” asked Gerard, but Silveo only sniffed and flipped his tail.
Thessalyn had come cautiously up on deck to stand in the late afternoon sunlight. “Let me see,” she said. Silveo let her fingers dance over his attire. Thessalyn giggled when she got to his earrings. “Silveo, this is a lot even for you.”
“I know,” he said. “I jingle every time I turn my head.” He demonstrated. “And you didn’t ‘see’ my tail. Listen.” He waved it, and the bells rang merrily.
“Are you trying to annoy Lord Holovar?” ask
ed Thessalyn.
“The lady is brilliant. I am trying to be completely shocking and offensive.”
“I think you’ll succeed,” said Gerard.
“Are you coming with us, Thess?” asked Silveo.
Thessalyn hesitated. “I—I’d rather not. Unless you really want me to.”
Silveo shook his head, earrings tinkling. “No, stay here. I will order something edible brought to your cabin and someone to read to you while you eat it. Or you can play and sing. Whatever suits. You don’t have to touch this island if you don’t want to.”
Alsair wanted to come, but Gerard shook his head. “Father will regard you as a weapon. I might as well walk in there with a drawn sword.”
“I am a weapon,” growled Alsair. “Weapons keep you safe.”
“Not when they’re seen as a threat. You’ll only end up in a fight with some of the other house griffins. There are lots of them and only one of you. Please honor what I told you earlier.”
A quarter watch later, a lantern-lit boat put out from the pier and glided towards them. Farell and his ten captains were all dressed in quieter clothes, ready for a formal dinner. “I’ll tell you something else about shinies,” said Silveo to Gerard while they waited. “I’m not just invisible when I’m not wearing them. I’m invisible even when I am.”
Gerard thought about that.
“I poisoned a shelt one time while he was looking right at me,” continued Silveo. “I was wearing these earrings, in fact, and he just couldn’t get his eyes off them. I reached over and dumped felbain in his glass, and he didn’t even notice.”
“You’re not planning on poisoning my father?” asked Gerard in some alarm.
“Probably not,” said Silveo. “What’s his name anyway?”
“Mishael. But no one ever calls him—”
He saw Silveo’s grin and shook his head. “He has a temper, Silveo. Be careful.”
“Does he have a wife?”
“Not unless a lot has changed. Mother died when we were young, and he never remarried.”
Something in Gerard’s voice must have betrayed him, because Silveo turned to look at him. There was a long pause, and then Silveo thumped his bells against the side of the ship. “Very occasionally I am slow, but I do catch on in the end.”
You’re never slow, thought Gerard. You are annoyingly not slow.
“He wanted Thess, didn’t he?”
Gerard said nothing.
“Yes, yes,” Silveo continued. “No wonder he paid for her schooling—pretty, talented girl. He probably thought he’d bought her.”
Gerard scowled. He drew a deep breath. “Most minstrels are sons or daughters of great houses, and they marry well. Females of humble birth are in a tough position and often end up as court mistresses to some great lord.”
Silveo shrugged. “One could do worse than Lord Holovar.”
Gerard looked up at the night sky. I loved her, and he didn’t. But you really don’t know what that means, do you? “One day, I remember we were walking on the beach—he and Jaleel and I and several of his councilors. Thess had come, and she was trailing behind, feeling with her paws for shells, the way she likes to do. She was wearing an expensive gown, and it would trail in the sand every time she bent over to pick one up. My father saw her, told her to stop; the gown was too expensive to be doing that. She protested, and he hit her—casually across the face, the way you might slap a dumb animal that was misbehaving.” She looked so surprised, so lost, so hurt.
Silveo’s eyes had narrowed to slits. Gerard couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Finally, he said, “Did he ever hit you?”
Gerard was taken a little off guard. “Sometimes—not often and never to wound. He would never have married Thess. That might have confused the succession. He would have cared for her children, of course, and for some girls that would have been enough. But Thess…symbols mean a lot to her, and being hit—”
“I know all about being hit,” snapped Silveo. He said nothing else for the rest of the ride to the pier.
Chapter 26. Thank You
The wyverns did something clever when they came to Wefrivain. They chose the largest, most aggressive shelt species in the islands and helped them subjugate all the other creatures. They made sure that the grishnards would control everyone else. Then all the wyverns had to do was control the grishnards.
—Gwain, The Truth About Wyverns
Servants had been sent to bring them up to the castle. Again, Gerard knew them all. They stared at him curiously, but when they saw Silveo, they almost forgot about Gerard. By the time they reached the end of the little harbor town and started up the castle hill, Gerard thought that half the population of Holovarus must have turned out to have a look.
“Embarrassed to be seen with me, Gerard?” asked Silveo, chiming with every step.
“No,” said Gerard, and found that it was true. He didn’t belong on this island anymore. The knowledge came as a shock and a relief.
Formally dressed servants met them at the castle entrance. They were too polite to stare, but they kept shooting little glances at Silveo out of the corners of their eyes. Lord Holovar was waiting in the antechamber outside the dining hall. “Oh, look,” said Silveo softly, “it’s you in thirty years—if you live that long.”
Lord Holovar was slightly taller than Gerard. He had the hard profile of an active shelt, a face prematurely lined with sun and wind, and iron gray hair that had once been black. He was not the kind of person who smiled often. Gerard could feel his stomach knotting again. He felt as though he were twelve years old and being called in to account for mishandling of the island’s resources or neglect of some duty. Jaleel was standing slightly behind his father, looking sullen. He whispered something as they entered.
“Stop that,” snapped Silveo, and Gerard realized he’d been slapping Silveo on the back of the head with his own lashing tail. “Don’t fidget,” hissed Silveo. “Hold your head up, stay with me, and keep your mouth shut. If you must talk, remember that you are the captain of the Temple Police.”
He strode to the front of the group. “Mishael,” he said just as the king was opening his mouth to speak. “You have the honor of hosting the Temple Sea Watch and the Police this evening, and I’m sure you’re charmed. No doubt your little dining hall is delightful, but I have been on my ship for days and would like to stretch my legs first. May we have a tour of this…uh…fort…castle…whatever…first?” Silveo flipped his hand languidly as he spoke, jingling and glittering with every move.
Gerard watched his father, who was staring in open horror at Silveo. His mouth twitched. His teeth were fairly on edge as he said, “I take it you are Admiral Lamire.”
Silveo yawned. “Yes, yes, my fame precedes me throughout the lesser kingdoms.”
Gerard forced himself not to smile. Silveo had hit a nerve. The lords of these little islands preferred “small kingdoms,” not “lesser,” and his father was prickly on the point.
Jaleel made a hiss, and the king’s tail lashed once. “The food,” said Mishael Holovar with studied calm, “will be cold if we do not proceed to dinner. I will be happy to take you on a tour after we have eaten. However, there is one point we must discuss first.”
Silveo raised an eyebrow. “If the food congeals, I’m sure the servants can reheat it. They can probably re-poison it, too; I hope you didn’t use anything expensive.”
Jaleel made another little noise. “I can assure you that nothing you eat in my castle will be poisoned,” said Lord Holovar.
“Good, good,” said Silveo. “My Mistress takes a dim view of those who poison her servants. Now what was this point of yours?”
“My son,” said Mishael Holovar, “is not welcome here unless he has come to apologize on his knees and make appropriate restitution. Otherwise, he is not to set foot on this island.”
Gerard glanced sideways at Silveo. He remembered the advice Silveo had given him on the way to Sern. Is this what you brought me here for, Silveo?
Lord Holovar’s mouth hardened to a granite line. Gerard could tell he’d had just about enough. “I don’t have to put up with his,” he snarled. “Gerard, either get over here or get out. You were banished, and if you don’t understand what that means, my guards will educate you.” The castle guards dutifully stepped into view on either side of the room.
“Excuse me.” Silveo’s voice was still insipid, but Gerard saw that he was playing with a gold-hilted throwing knife that had magically appeared in his hands. He was flipping it over and under his fingers. “I don’t know what you’re nattering on about, but let me assure you: if you have another son besides that specimen behind you, he is not here. The Watch and the Police are here.” He jerked a finger at Gerard. “If you haven’t met our new Captain of Police, then perhaps you should. I realize that news reaches these little forts rather slowly. Now I have a sudden, intense desire to see your library. Do take us there at once.”
Lord Holovar made a slight and very stiff bow. “I will humor your request against my better judgment. This way.”
Gerard heard Jaleel mutter nastily behind his father, “We’d hate to leave any of his sudden and intense desires unsatisfied.”
“Oh, I know you would,” cooed Silveo loudly. “Come see me when you’re old enough.”
Gerard rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Silveo, he really might kill you if you keep this up.
As they proceeded along the hall, Silveo dropped back a little and murmured, “We’re looking for Thess’s books. You did say she left them here, didn’t you?”
So that’s what this is about. “Yes,” said Gerard.
Silveo nodded. “Just go around and start pulling them out. I’ll handle your delightful family.”
“You’re making them very angry,” whispered Gerard. “My father really might try to throw us in the dungeon, and Jaleel really might try to stab you.”
The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers, Deluxe Illustrated Edition Page 13
