For some reason, this didn’t bother Kaylin. Possibly it was because Bellusdeo was a Dragon. Possibly it was because she didn’t particularly consider life to be fair. Dragon female trumped almost everything, as far as the Emperor was concerned.
But no, a little voice said, that wasn’t true. The empire trumped everything. Bellusdeo was considered important to the race, but that race didn’t really care about the empire, except in the abstract. It was the Emperor’s hoard. You disturbed it at your ultimate peril.
It was Bellusdeo who cut through rank and file behavior to tell Marcus that they had met the fieflord of Candallar in the East Warrens.
Marcus’s eyes couldn’t get any redder without spilling into the Leontine Frenzy color. Bellusdeo failed to mention either Mandoran or Teela. She spoke respectfully, but spoke as if to an equal. In the end, Marcus mirrored Hanson. He had a direct line to the Hawklord, but hadn’t chosen to use it, which meant that this wasn’t considered an emergency.
“There was no difficulty with the fieflord?”
“If you mean did he attempt to harm me, no.”
“Did he attempt to harm the officers?”
“No. Had he, what was left of him would be in the holding cells.”
“The Hawks would not—”
“Yes, I realize their hands are tied. But I’m not a Hawk, Sergeant Kassan. I’m a displaced person. A Dragon.”
Some of the red bled out of Marcus’s eyes then. “It was easier,” he said, “in the old country.”
“For you, too?”
“Yes. We could rip out the throats of our enemies—and our enemies seldom pretended to be our friends before we did.”
“I’ll suggest it to the Emperor,” Bellusdeo replied, with a sunny smile.
Marcus growled.
“I’ll suggest it on my own behalf; I shall utterly fail to mention your comment. You see, we also—in the old country—could rip out the throats of our enemies. Or their wings.”
Kaylin coughed. “I lived in a place where you could—if you had the power—kill your enemies with zero consequences. It was an awful place, and I don’t recommend it. The Emperor created the laws for a reason, and I think the reasons are good.”
“You would, though,” Bellusdeo said. “You’ve thrown your life into them, and no one wants to waste their life.”
Dragons.
* * *
Hanson’s reply came about fifteen minutes later. Or rather, the reply to the message Marcus had sent to Hanson did. The respondent in the mirror, however, was the Hawklord. Marcus didn’t seem to be surprised. He did seem disgusted. “You’re wanted upstairs,” he told Kaylin.
Given the part the fiefs had played in Kaylin’s childhood, she wasn’t surprised, either; the surprise would have been no response, or a rote one.
“He wants the Dragon as well,” Marcus added.
“The Dragon,” Bellusdeo said, unfazed, “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” At Marcus’s lowered browline, she added, “He has no right of command where I’m concerned, no. But I’m not so petty that I would deprive myself of something interesting simply to spite him.”
Marcus said nothing. Loudly.
* * *
When they hit the middle of the tower steps on their way to obey the Hawklord’s command, Kaylin said, “Could you maybe try not to antagonize him?”
Severn was silent, and almost invisible; it was a neat trick. Kaylin wondered if he’d learned it while training with the Wolves. Or if he’d always had it. He’d survived the fiefs for a lot longer than she had, after all—and had it not been for Severn, she was uneasily certain she wouldn’t have survived at all.
“Your sergeant makes no effort not to antagonize me.” Bellusdeo snorted. “He dislikes the Dragon Court.”
“You’re not part of the court.”
“Fine. He dislikes Dragons.”
“Because it was the Dragon Court that pretty much decided I should be put down. As in executed. I was thirteen.” Bellusdeo stopped speaking, although she continued to walk. Kaylin, aware that she was being petty, said, “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before. He’s got a long memory when you threaten his kits.”
“And he considers you one of them.”
“Well, his first wife does. You want a terrifying Leontine—it’s her. He’s never going to forgive the Dragon Court. But you’re not them, and he’ll eventually accept you. Just—he’s got a long memory.”
At that, Bellusdeo chuckled. “Nowhere near as long as the memories of my kin. It rankles, but I must also remind myself: I am not ruler here. This is not my country.”
* * *
The Hawklord had done Kaylin the kindness of opening the doors, which otherwise operated by wards. He was standing to one side of an inactive mirror; Kaylin could see herself—and Bellusdeo, and a silent Severn—as they approached.
It was no surprise to Kaylin that the Aerian’s eyes were a martial blue. He tendered Bellusdeo a very correct bow—which in Aerians involved wing motions and stiffness in the right order—and rose. “My apologies,” he said. “Sergeant Kassan sent Kaylin on patrol in the East Warrens. It has been struck from her duty list for the time being.”
“For the time being, meaning, if I am to accompany her?”
The Hawklord said nothing.
“I believe,” Bellusdeo said, because it wasn’t her job or her dreamed-of promotion on the line, “that the reason Sergeant Kassan chose to send the private and the corporal to the East Warrens at this time was because I have been given blanket Imperial permission to accompany her. He expected difficulty of a type that the Barrani Hawks, and only the Barrani Hawks, could easily handle.”
“There were other teams he could have chosen.”
“Yes. But none of those teams happen to have a Dragon as a shadow.”
The Hawklord was not Leontine. “Yes, a remarkable coincidence, since I am confident that no one under my command would knowingly put you at risk in an encounter that might involve strange or dangerous magics.” His tone was bland. “Having made that coincidental decision, he has been informed that it will not be made again. We are all, I am certain, much happier.” He turned to Kaylin then. Although he’d offered Bellusdeo the very respectful bow of an inferior to a superior, he had no intention of allowing the Dragon to commandeer the discussion. He had made a decision. It was not hers to argue.
“You claim to have made contact with the fieflord of Candallar.”
Kaylin nodded.
“You are certain.” His glance moved to Severn.
“Yes.” Severn answered the question, but offered nothing else. He did not, however, bristle.
“Was he in the warrens to meet with my Hawks?”
“He was to meet, he said, with friends. In my opinion, yes; without corroborating evidence—”
The Hawklord held up a hand, which stopped Severn. “You have heard that there was difficulty this morning.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve heard, no doubt, that a political storm is brewing in the Barrani High Court.”
“Actually,” Kaylin said, “we hadn’t. Until this morning.”
“Candallar may well be part of that. What is the word in the office?”
“About?”
“This morning’s incident.”
“That Moran will make certain we belong in critical care if we show up in the infirmary for any other reason than that we already need it, sir.”
The Hawklord almost winced. “Sergeant dar Carafel is never going to leave the infirmary at the current rate of emergency.”
Kaylin, who still felt that Moran’s entire race had treated her horribly, couldn’t see this as a bad thing—for either the Hawks or Moran. Clearly the Hawklord had a different opinion, and she managed to keep her own to herself. Or at least to keep the words that would express it that way. �
��Teela is in the infirmary.”
“I was not informed of her presence there,” was the bland reply. It implied that he wished to remain ignorant. Ignorance, after all, had its uses. “At ease, Private.”
Given his eyes, ease was impossible, but she did relax her stance.
“What is happening?”
“I’m not Barrani, sir.”
He turned, then, to Bellusdeo. “Lord Bellusdeo, I am aware that you are not Barrani, but you have experience with both politics and assassination attempts. In your opinion, what has caused this...conflict among my Barrani Hawks?”
Bellusdeo’s eyes had shaded into a more natural gold. Orange deepened the color, but she was not struggling to contain Dragon rage. “You are aware,” she said, “of Teela’s companions.”
He nodded.
“I believe the political difficulties involve them.”
Kaylin wanted to kick her. She also wanted to continue to breathe. She said nothing, but, because she was Kaylin, was not entirely silent about it.
“And the fieflord?”
After a much longer pause, Bellusdeo replied. “I admit that I do not understand your fiefs or their lords. I understand their function; I understand why they are considered a distasteful necessity. I do not, however, understand why the lords of the Towers themselves are left to almost random chance. Were this my city, we would have chosen those Lords ourselves, and we would have had strict criteria by which to do so.”
Judging by expression, the Hawklord agreed. He was not, however, he Emperor. “I am not a scholar. My understanding of Shadow and its nature is pragmatic, but it is not deep. If you wish to discuss the nature of the Towers, it is to the Dragon Court you must look. But in my superficial and meagre understanding, the Towers have a sentience of their own. It is said that the Towers choose. Private Neya and Corporal Handred were present when the Tower of Tiamaris adopted its newest Lord; perhaps they will shed some light on the subject.” But not now, his tone implied. “Corporal Danelle was not forthcoming when questioned.”
“The assassin in question—”
“The incident in question involved the corporal, yes. She is not, I am told, in the infirmary to finish the job she started, or is said to have started. The Barrani in question is technically alive.”
“Technically, sir?”
“I expect we will receive a writ of exemption at any moment that will excuse his attempt to assassinate one of my Hawks. I have been told that the mirror network has been somewhat compromised, and not all of our messages are currently arriving. And no, Private, you are not considered an expert in the mirror networks; we have put in an official request for the oversight of an Imperial Mage.”
“That’ll take three days, sir.”
“It is a pity that the Imperial Mages are so heavily overburdened with official business that we are required to wait, yes.”
“You expect a writ of exemption?” Bellusdeo said. It was on the tip of Kaylin’s tongue, but she bit it. She could practically taste blood.
“I expect a writ and a demand for remand of custody, yes.”
Kaylin had expected a writ of exemption. She had not considered what most frequently happened when such writs were exercised: the criminal ended up as a conveniently packaged corpse on or near the steps of the Halls of Law. She paled. “So...we have three days to figure out what the hells is going on?”
“Given it involves Barrani, politics and a fieflord, I would guess that three days will not be nearly enough time. Three days is also not an exact measure. There is some possibility that the Imperial Order of Mages will, in fact, consider the demands of the Halls of Law a serious emergency, and rearrange their pressing schedules to accommodate us.”
Kaylin snorted.
“You will not be patrolling the warrens again.”
“Sir. Does that mean we’re back to Elani?”
“The duty roster is otherwise in the hands of the sergeant. I expect the difficulties with the Barrani to be resolved before the writ arrives. Did Candallar give any indication of what he wants from his involvement in this murky affair?”
“No, sir.”
The Hawklord’s eyes narrowed.
“He did, however, point out that while he’s outcaste—he is outcaste—he still retains citizenship in the Empire. His oath of loyalty to the Eternal Emperor has never been retracted or disavowed. And he probably understands the Imperial Laws at least as well as I do.”
“Interesting. Is there a reason this was relevant to your discussion with him?”
“She was threatening to arrest him and drag him back to the holding cells,” Bellusdeo replied. “He pointed out that this would be an unlawful detainment.”
“Very interesting. He is correct in this case. I assume no such attempt was made?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed.”
* * *
Teela was, according to Caitlin, still in the infirmary. Tain, however, had drifted back to his desk, where he sat stiffly, blue-eyed and grim. Grim wasn’t necessary; Kaylin had seen Barrani with eyes of midnight laughing. But not often.
“Is Teela still in the infirmary?” she demanded.
“You’re expected to head out to Elani.” Which meant yes.
Kaylin folded her arms. Tain was seated; she could look down at him. It was Bellusdeo who spoke. “Teela’s enemies in the High Court are better prepared than you expected.”
“Characterizing them as Teela’s enemies is not, or was not, accurate. Sedarias is cunning, ambitious, and political in a way the High Court understands. She is not of the High Court; none of the cohort are. But were she, she would become a power to reckon with. Perhaps not in your lifetime, but perhaps at the end of it—and that would be meteoric in Barrani terms. But if their opposition is prepared to orchestrate an attack in the Halls of Law—where there are other races as possible collateral damage—it’s not a good sign. This won’t be the only assassination attempt; it’s merely the first.”
“You think they’ll attack Teela again?” Kaylin’s hands were fists.
“Teela is better prepared than the cohort. If the cohort arrives intact, it will be a small miracle. Or a large one. If they weren’t staying with Helen, I’d ask you to stay out of it.”
“You think she’d stay out of it if they weren’t staying with her?” Bellusdeo asked.
“I think the chances that we could keep the worst of it from her would be much higher, yes.”
“Oh, and assassination attempts in the Halls of Law would completely go over my head.” Kaylin folded her arms. She had never liked being treated as if she were stupid. And Teela was important.
“No one expected that.” Tain hesitated, which was unusual for Tain.
“Including Teela,” Bellusdeo then said, finishing the thought. “Who must be something of a political force herself if she can both retain her power at court and serve as a Hawk.” Kaylin knew Teela was a Lord of the High Court—but even that knowledge had been gained in the last year or two. She thought of Teela as a Hawk, and as a friend; sometimes as an older sister.
Tain did not reply.
The Dragon cleared her throat. “I believe I will visit Moran. I’m a Dragon, and I served as her bodyguard during the worst of the friction with the Aerian Caste Court. She will have a much harder time shutting her door in my face.” Her smile had long teeth in it. “I have Imperial permission to be in the Halls of Law. Moran is not my commanding officer. She can neither threaten nor command me.”
Kaylin wasn’t certain she wouldn’t bet on the Aerian, but said nothing.
* * *
Tain remained at his desk. Severn remained at Tain’s desk. Both suggested, with varying degrees of subtlety, that Kaylin remain there as well. Kaylin didn’t have time to argue, because when a Dragon made a decision—or when Bellusdeo did, at any rate—she acted on it i
mmediately. The private had to scurry to keep up. If she followed in Bellusdeo’s wake, she’d be allowed in.
The old infirmary was still being rebuilt. In the weeks that had passed since a bomb had reduced it to splinters of wood, stone and glass, new floors and new walls had been installed, as if by magic. It wasn’t magic, of course; not yet. Magic would come later, when Moran had approved of the base rooms.
The conference room which had been the largest space available for emergency operations had been reclaimed by the Halls, but the infirmary itself had taken up temporary residence in a smaller set of rooms that were seldom used and more functional than a room that was essentially created to house a huge table and a bunch of chairs. They were less easily accessible, in part because they had been used as general storage. Kaylin didn’t ask what had happened to whatever was being stored here; that was the quartermaster’s problem.
The door was closed. The door was warded. Bellusdeo lifted golden brows in Kaylin’s direction, but touched the ward herself. Kaylin wasn’t entirely surprised when the door opened. She wasn’t surprised when a bristling Aerian with high, spotted wings stood almost in the frame. Nor was she surprised when the bristling wings folded as the Aerian caught sight of the Dragon. Slightly envious, but not surprised.
Moran’s eyes were Barrani blue. Her expression took a turn for the worse when she looked past Bellusdeo to see Kaylin.
“The private is my escort,” Bellusdeo said, in a perfectly friendly, perfectly bland tone.
“There is nothing here that requires the private’s attention, and a great deal that does not.”
Kaylin opened her mouth. Closed it. It was smarter to let the Dragon do the talking because Moran couldn’t do anything to the Dragon. Small and squawky, almost forgotten, lifted his head and batted Kaylin’s cheek with the top of it. He looked bored.
Teela appeared in the door frame behind Moran. “Why are you here?” she asked.
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