by Wren, M. K.
“I’ve no doubt of that. Who was she, Amik?”
He gazed into his glass, smiling secretively.
“Jael’s mother was the Lady Manir Kalister Peladeen.”
Alex was stunned to silence, and Amik’s rumbling laugh was indicative of satisfaction.
“So. Now you understand why I say it was something to wonder at. The wife of Elor, the last Lord of Peladeen. That one bore Jael, my son.”
Alex had himself under control, outwardly at least. He was still willing to concede his curiosity to Amik, but not its intensity now.
“Then the Concord has deluded itself in thinking that Manir Peladeen died with Lord Elor.”
“The Concord had deluded itself on many things, my friend, but is it written in the histories that the body of the Lady Manir was ever found?”
“No, nor that of her son. I mean, Elor Peladeen’s son.”
“Do you think she’d have dared let it be known she lived when the Purge began? All the Peladeen were slaughtered after the Fall. That’s what I meant about her headprice if the Concord knew she was alive.”
Alex took time to sip the Marsay Cabray. “How is it she came to you for protection?”
“She didn’t come to me by intent, actually. But I’ll tell you that story if you like.” He paused, looking at Alex inquiringly. “You find this incredible, my friend?”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t doubt your word, Amik.”
“Ah. Well, no matter. It’s true, and I have proof of it, but you may believe it or not, as you will. At any rate, Elor Peladeen’s last battle was fought in Helen, as you know. The night Confleet invaded the city, the Brothers and I were going about our business—one man’s disaster is another’s good fortune, of course—and I happened to be near the Peladeen estate; the Eliseer Estate now. There was a great deal of confusion; explosions, fires, soldiers flooding the city. I didn’t find the Lady Manir; two of the Brothers brought her to me. She had at least ten thousand ’cords on her in jewelry in clear sight—not that she had any idea of its worth—yet the Brothers didn’t touch it. That should give you an idea of the kind of woman she was. Anyone else would’ve been quickly done and the jewelry taken, but she backed them to the edge. Of course, the child had something to do with it, although usually even that wouldn’t make the Brothers pause.”
Alex turned his glass to catch the light. “What child?”
“Her child. Peladeen’s first born. He was little more than a baby; only two years old, I think. The God knows how long she’d carried him about in all the confusion.” He loosed a long sigh. “Perhaps that’s why she touched my heart so, that boy. And the look in her eyes. I’ve been to Terra—anonymously, of course—and toured Lord Galinin’s zoological preserve. Have you ever seen a lioness with her cubs?”
Alex nodded, but the image in his mind was the quiet hands of Honoria Ivanoi on the day of her widowing.
“Yes, I know what you mean, Amik.”
“A mother protecting her babes; such courage exists nowhere else in nature. The Lady Manir had that look, and this old thief . . .” He laughed ruefully. “I couldn’t bring myself to touch a hair of her head. Not only that, I laid edict to the Brothers for her; blood edict. I loved her from that moment, which isn’t so surprising. The only surprising thing was that she came to care for me in time.”
Alex asked, “Amik, what about the boy? That was their only son, wasn’t it? Predis?”
“Yes, I think that was his name. He was dead. When she was brought to me, he was already dead and growing cold.”
Alex felt a tightness in his throat, and he was thinking of the man who called himself Predis Ussher, who claimed Peladeen as his birthright.
“He was already dead? Are you sure it was her son?”
“Would a mother be unsure? I wouldn’t have known the boy, but she did, and she wasn’t confused or hysterical—not that one.”
“Did she know the boy was dead?”
“At first, she refused to recognize it. Then—it was quite sudden, too—she accepted it.”
“What happened to—I mean . . .”
“We buried him, Manir and I. Nothing would do, in the midst of an armed invasion, but that I should help her bury her son. And do you know where he was buried? The gardens!” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it himself. “The gardens of the Peladeen estate. With Confleet soldiers pouring in, the walls collapsing from the fires and bombing, the Lady wouldn’t be satisfied until her son was laid to rest on House ground; Peladeen ground. That’s what the Lady wished, and that’s how it was done. Then I brought her here and I promised I’d keep her safe all her life. In time, I suppose the Concord might have granted her amnesty, and I wouldn’t have stopped her if she wanted to take that risk. But she stayed with me and five years later took me as her husband, and finally, nearly twelve years later, she bore our son.”
Again, Alex could think of no suitable comment; he waited through a short silence until, at length, Amik’s golden, jinni grin flashed on again.
“So. Whether you believe me or not, my friend, you must admit it makes a good tale. And it is true. Even an old thief wouldn’t dream up something so utterly unlikely.”
Alex hesitated, then, “Amik, you said you had proof. If I should ever ask for that proof, would you let me see it?”
Amik studied him intently, eyes narrowed to slits.
“It would depend on your purpose. But you’ve piqued my curiosity. Why should you be interested in the proof of my little story?”
“I’m interested in many things, and incidentally, I believe every word of it.”
“Do you, now? Well, I’m flattered that you take such faith in this old thief.”
Alex tipped up his glass, sending him a slanted smile. “I have absolute faith in you, Amik, and it’s only strengthened by the fact that I have access to information that supports your story.”
Amik laughed heartily. “And what would that be?”
“Jael. He’s too much an anomaly as an Outsider. I was never satisfied with his rationale for choosing the Phoenix. I was also curious about his entroit into the Society. Manir Peladeen knew about the Phoenix. We have correspondence from Lord Elor in our memfiles verifying that. He regarded the Phoenix as the hope for civilization and his own immortality. I doubt Lady Manir felt less strongly, or that she’d fail to pass on her hopes and knowledge to her son.”
Amik only smiled benignly. “It would seem reasonable. Well, I’m glad you found my tale enlightening, but now—” He looked at his watch, then began maneuvering himself out of his chair, “—I regret to say I have certain business matters I must tend to. I hope you’ll forgive me for ending our conversation so abruptly.”
“It’s for me to ask your forbearance for taking so much of your time, Amik.” He rose, cautiously, relieved to find the afteraffects of the drug almost entirely gone.
Amik brought Alex’s gun and suitcase to him. “Your cloak and ’screen ring are there on the chair behind you.” He waited until Alex had the laser secured in its sleeve holster, his cloak on, and face-screen activated, then nodded. “I’ll ’com Yuba and have him show you to your suite.”
“Thank you—for all your generosity.”
Amik shrugged as he reached for the intercom. “I told you, you’re—”
“Jael’s guest. Yes, you told me. But like it or not, Amik, you’ll have to accept my thanks. There’s no debt in gratitude.”
Amik eyed him speculatively, then laughed. “We’ll speak of that another time.”
3.
Alex leaned back, idly surveying the lavishly furnished guest suite, which was only a little less flamboyant in décor than Amik’s salon, and included a similar colored dome backed with artificial light. He put his wineglass down by his empty plate with a sigh of purely physical satisfaction, a sensation he indulged
for the moment.
He might as well. Jael refused to dishonor the chef’s handiwork by detracting from it with any but the lightest conversation. But, at length, he tossed the linett napkin down on a table glittering, even in the ruins of the “small supper,” with platinade, crystal, and gold-embellished porceleen, and asked, “Well, brother, enough?”
“Jael, enough would hardly describe that meal. I haven’t eaten so well since . . .”
Jael, dark eyes intent, only smiled. “Since before you saw Fina, I’ll lay. Caffay? Or some brandy?”
“Caffay, please.”
Jael reached for the intercom near his plate. “Hebra, caffay for my guest and myself.” Then he rose and moved to an armchair and relaxed against the velveen cushions. “Your face-screen, brother.”
Alex touched the switch on his ’screen ring as he sank into the chair across a small side table from Jael. The table was Sinasian, he guessed; austere, yet intricately carved, and as rare as it was old. It occurred to him that Jael would adapt very easily to the Elite world; he lived as well as any Lord both in terms of creature comforts and cultural advantages. He even dressed like a Lord on his own ground, with boots and brocaded doublet, although the cut of his clothes leaned to the rakish—and to Outside standards—and the sheathed knife was always ready at his side.
The door opened, and a young woman entered carrying a tray laden with porceleen cups and a gold-inlaid pot. She gave Jael a brief, polite smile as she put the tray on the side table and poured the steaming black brew into the cups.
Jael said, “You can take the dining table now, Hebra. And remember, I give it to you to see to my guest’s comfort. I call this man friend and brother—under blood edict.”
She pulled her breath in sharply at that, then with a nod gave Alex that same polite smile.
“I’ll be on ready any time he ’coms.” She activated the nulgrav control and guided the table out the door.
Alex turned off his face-screen and reached for his cup. “Now that we’ve done justice to your chef’s artistry, perhaps you’ll tell me about the SI meeting.”
Jael nodded. “The whole thing was on script to the last word, Alex, including a gimmy eulogy for Vandyne that would bring tears to a carraminx’s eye. Ian Temple takes over the top seat in SI here, and Ussher pulls the strings on him.”
“Was anything said about me?”
“Not a glim, and I didn’t put it up to Temple. I wasn’t supposed to know about your coming on scene.”
“What about you, Jael, with Vandyne off scene?”
He shrugged and sipped at his caffay unconcernedly. “I’m in clear, brother. Upped to number three man—according to script. They’ll keep their blades sheathed with me; I’m not casting any shadows over them now, and anyway, they aren’t sure where I toe up. So maybe I let them think I’m with the tooth-gimmer. I’m a good ear in where I sit, and I don’t intend to toss that.”
Alex commented levelly, “You seem to be well lined in on the situation with Ussher.”
Jael’s hooded eyes flickered with hidden amusement. “You mean this under-cloak face-off you’ve got on? I told you once I read the tooth-gimmer, and I’m good at addition. So I’ve been adding up the signs past what Harv told me. Of course, it wasn’t so hard to tally since I know who you are.”
There was no doubt what he meant by that, and Alex finally had to laugh.
“How did you find out?”
“The old Outsider’s nose, mostly,” he said, touching his nose with a sly smile. “The old Ser must have tallied it, too.”
Alex frowned at that. “What did he say?”
“Nothing to me. It’s what he said to you. You said he told you that spin about my mother. He never spills that to strangers—or anyone.”
“Why should knowing my identity induce him to spill it?”
“The old Ser plays every side. Maybe he thought someday you’d have the weight to—well, if you knew I carried some blue Elite blood . . .” He put his cup aside, frowning uncomfortably. “My mother had this . . . dream. Something about exhuming the house of Peladeen.”
“With you as First Lord?”
“One on, brother. The son of the Lord of Thieves. She made a tape, a death testament, addressed to Galinin ‘or his successor,’ no less. She laid it out that I was the rightful heir to Peladeen, since I was her only living son. There are precedents—or so she said—for matriarchal succession, and she carried a little Peladeen blood herself. I guess—damn, it’s for a laugh, really, digging up the House of Peladeen with me in the top seat. But she meant it true.”
Alex stared at him, then his annoyance drove him to rise and begin pacing, arms folded across his chest.
“For a laugh! Holy God, Jael, you have a claim to the First Lordship of Peladeen and you didn’t tell anyone in Fina about it? You’re another candidate for Phase I!”
He replied a little stiffly, “I’ve got that tallied, brother, but you’re a hell of a lot better candidate than I am, and I had that tallied, too. And there’s a kind of conditioning that doesn’t take Phoenix training; the kind you learn from the time you can make words, and you know if you spill, someone you love is going to die. My mother’s life hung on the shadow of a word. So I didn’t talk about her. Not even after she died.”
Alex sighed. “Nor even under Level 3 conditioning, according to Erica. But, Jael, that little ‘spin’ your father told me does more than establish your claim to Peladeen.”
Jael’s gaze was direct. “If you’re going to call me down because I didn’t hand you the blade to cut Lord Predis’s claim out from under him, just sit on it. When I came on scene, you were available for Phase 1. You didn’t need a blade. Then, in one month’s time, the whole stat got turned inside out. The tooth-gimmer’s on top, and you’ve got a hand and a foot tied behind you—I can tally that one, too. Bring this face-off out into the open, and the Phoenix will split down the middle and crumble into that much Midhar sand. The old Ser’s spin gives you a blade, but can you use it? And will it hold? You can’t prove Predis Ussher Peladeen is buried in the Eliseer Estate unless you dig up the grounds. So do you want to take the chance that Ussher can’t turn your blade into a lie? That’s his gim, Alex, and he’s good at it—turning truth into lies, and lies into truth.”
Alex looked up into the shining, multicolored dome, feeling the weight of six hundred meters of earth above it. He wondered if he’d ever again live where he could look out a window and see the sky. Any sky.
He said dully, “You’re right, Jael. But your claim may still be vital if I ever do have the leverage to help you make good on it.” Jael was on the verge of protesting and Alex added, “If I achieve my resurrection, I’ll need you, and not as the first born of the Lord of Thieves. You may have to accept the role of Lord of Peladeen, and even the role of focus for Phase I if I fail.”
Jael didn’t answer immediately, but at length he nodded. “All right, brother, you call it. I can play any gim you name if I have to, and probably a few you’ve never thought of.” He took a moment for his caffay, frowning slightly. “But there’s one thing I’d like to know about Ussher. How did he gim the Council so well in the beginning? I mean, they wouldn’t even consider running the gant with him unless they thought he had a solid claim to Peladeen.”
Alex nodded and returned to his chair. “His claim couldn’t be disproved, Jael, and the Council was satisfied with that; they had to be. According to his story, he was saved during the Fall by a Fesh nurse—I don’t even know her name—but she was a nurse for Predis Peladeen. After the Fall, Ussher said she claimed him as her own child, and no records survived of her marrying or having a child of her own. Ussher also had some jewelry known to belong to Manir Peladeen, and he came up with a few verifiable childhood memories.” He paused, then with a bitter laugh, “Now it’s obvious where the truth lies: He was the nurse’s son.
The jewelry—she could have stolen it, or Manir might have given it to her. The memories could come from the nurse, too, and it’s even conceivable that she knew something about the Phoenix. If Manir trusted her, she might have told her something about it, or maybe she just had sharp ears. Who knows?”
“The tooth-gimmer does.” Jael picked up his cup, sipped sparingly, then put it down with an air of resolve. “Well, brother, that’s all for the bygone. For the now, we’ve got a few problems to lay out. You’re safe here—at least, a little safer than up in the Inside—but I doubt you want to retire here.”
“Retirement—here or anywhere—is definitely not what I had in mind. I’m sure you’ve tallied my reasons for leaving Fina. I was an open target for Ussher there. But I have a purpose beyond preserving my life—Andreas Riis. I left Fina with only a vague plan of working with loyal members in the Helen chapter to make sure an MT is available—and out of Ussher’s reach—when Ben finds out where Andreas is being held, but that rather naive scheme is out now. Ussher has too strong a foothold here, and I can’t risk any more lives; I already have Vandyne on my conscience. I have no choice now but to go into total exile. That gives Ussher free rein in Fina, but if we can rescue Andreas before Ussher gets too deeply entrenched, we have a chance of cutting him down without ripping he Phoenix apart.”
Jael nodded. “There’s the LR-MT to count in, too. How close was Riis on that?”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He said bitterly. “Within touching distance. That’s what precipitated the sudden reversal of the stat’ in Fina.”
“That puts a light on everything. Alex, even if Ben homes an on Riis, cutting him loose is going to be one hell of a shivvy gim.”
“I know. I need an HQ. I’ll have to equip it with everything we’ll need to free Andreas. An MT, of course, and communication and monitoring systems. And I want to pull Lyden and Bruce out of Fina and set them up with the equipment they need to keep working on the LR-MT.”
