Cast in Conflict

by Michelle Sagara

  “They’re not the same?”

  “No. There is some overlap, but no.”

  “I hope he reduces the Arcanists to ash,” Kaylin muttered.

  “The Arcanum is not beloved by those who work in the Halls of Law.”

  “It shouldn’t be beloved by anyone.”

  “I believe An’Teela was once a member of the Arcanum; were she not now a Hawk, it would be more socially obvious.”

  “She quit, though.”

  Emmerian shook his head. “She was part of the Arcanum for far longer than she has served the Emperor’s Law. And it is not of An’Teela or Lannagaros that you wish to speak. You are worried about Bellusdeo.”

  Kaylin exhaled. “She’s been in a funny mood ever since the Arkon became the chancellor. She was happy for him—I’d bet anything on that—but it seemed to...” Kaylin trailed off.

  Hope squawked.

  “Say that so I can understand it.”

  Hope snorted. And continued to squawk.

  Emmerian’s eyes had become orange in the space of what would pass for syllables only among angry birds.

  Helen’s Avatar offered Lord Emmerian a drink; he took it almost without seeing it. But Helen said nothing. The silence felt significant. Kaylin was almost certain that Helen wouldn’t let Bellusdeo do anything that would cause self-harm.

  Helen’s smile was pained. “That would depend entirely on what you mean by self-harm, dear. I am very fond of Bellusdeo. But she is not a child, and even were she, I am not her mother.”

  Kaylin poked Hope. “What the hells did you just say to him?”

  It was conjecture, Hope replied.

  “What was the conjecture?”

  It was Helen who answered. “Bellusdeo has been in pain for a very long time. Your intervention saved her from a life of mindless servitude as a sword. It saved Maggaron. But Maggaron is not Bellusdeo. He feels guilt at his failure, but his failures are smaller and less significant than Bellusdeo’s.

  “She cares for you,” Helen added softly. “She understands that you are both mortal and Chosen. She does not wish to involve you in events that could prove fatal.”

  “To me or to her?”

  “Either, dear. You are upsetting our guest.”

  Emmerian’s eyes were fully orange, now. Kaylin thought she could see flecks of red in them.

  “Hope.”

  I told him that I believe it is Bellusdeo’s desire to take the Tower that was formally captained by Candallar.

  * * *

  Kaylin broke the silence that followed Hope’s words, but it took her some time. Emmerian offered no help, and Helen didn’t choose to come to the rescue either. She understood why Emmerian’s eyes were the color of Dragon unhappiness, but had learned that unhappy had several flavors, mostly because of the Barrani.

  Worry. Hurt. Anger. Fear. All of them expressed wordlessly by the color of eyes: orange, blue. She couldn’t immediately tell what variation of emotion had caused Emmerian’s eyes to shift color so quickly, so she wasn’t certain how to address what she didn’t know.

  She considered what she knew of Emmerian, and came up with almost zero. He wasn’t talkative. He wasn’t—like Mandoran or Bellusdeo herself—particularly teasing or mischievous. He had spoken about the Arkon’s—ugh, the former Arkon’s—past, and in so doing had revealed bits and pieces of his own, but not enough.

  Had he been Bellusdeo, the Dragon currently at the heart of his response, Kaylin would have known whether or not she was dealing with anger, worry or pain. He wasn’t. He was a member of the Dragon Court, and he had been tasked with her security by an Emperor who was trying his best to protect Bellusdeo and the future of his entire race.

  Kaylin had once daydreamed about being someone as important as Bellusdeo—a queen, the savior of an entire race. She felt beyond embarrassed about that now. Her only consolation was that she’d never openly resented or envied Bellusdeo for having what she’d dreamed of having.

  It was a solid reminder that nightmares were also dreams.

  “Would it be bad if Bellusdeo took the Tower?”

  Emmerian didn’t reply. Kaylin couldn’t decide whether that meant yes or no, which made it hard to keep conversation going. She glanced at Helen. Helen failed to notice; she was watching Emmerian, her eyes obsidian rather than the brown she generally adopted. In Helen’s case, obsidian was like Dragon orange-red.

  Kaylin was usually honest, but didn’t consider it a huge moral strength—more a lack of social self-control. But not pissing off a Dragon—although admittedly Emmerian seemed the least likely of the Dragons to slide into fiery, towering rage—was high on her list of priorities.

  It was therefore Emmerian who eventually replied. “No. Absent any other considerations, it would not be ‘bad,’ as you put it.” He lowered his chin and inhaled for what seemed a very long time. Lifting his chin, he met Kaylin’s gaze with eyes that were orange and a blend of some other color that might have been a trick of the light.

  “None of us saw her when she ruled the Norranir. None of us saw her when she took to the field, Maggaron by her side. We can make educated guesses—but the most accurate of those guesses came from Lannagaros and his advice to the Dragon Court.

  “She understands that she is the future of the race. It would be impossible for her not to understand this; it is the source of all contention between Bellusdeo and the Emperor. I do not believe that she intends to let the race die out with the passage of time. Will she bear young? Yes. I believe she will.

  “But it is not a simple matter for her; her sole focus is not motherhood.”

  Kaylin nodded, because she agreed.

  “The fiefs are not safe. War is not safe. None know this better than Bellusdeo.”

  “The fiefs are safe as they can be for those who captain the Towers, though.”

  Emmerian nodded. “But there is no guarantee that she will be allowed to take that Tower.”

  “Tiamaris—”

  “Tiamaris’s Tower wanted what Tiamaris wanted.”

  “And you think Candallar’s Tower won’t?”

  Kaylin’s disbelief must have been evident. Emmerian raised one brow—Dragons were good at that—and said, “You have experience with Towers. You understand that the core of each Tower is sentient. You understand as much about sentient buildings as someone who is not a scholar can.

  “If Helen were a Tower, perhaps—”

  “I could not be a Tower and be Helen,” Helen said quietly. Her eyes remained obsidian with flecks of color; it made them look like dark opals. “In order to become the Helen I am now, I destroyed much of myself. Sentient buildings are an existence that is rooted in the words that define their function. I was, but I yearned for a different function.

  “Tara almost damaged herself, but it was not through her own volition; she had been deserted by the man who had undertaken the responsibility.”

  “Tiamaris understood what she wanted; he understood what her core responsibilities were. Of the Dragon Court, Tiamaris was the one who understood the Towers best. Tiamaris,” he added, “and Lannagaros.” Clearly Emmerian had no difficulty remembering that Arkon was a title, not a name.

  “He did not attempt to change Tara,” Emmerian continued, his tone shifting as he spoke. “He saw her duties and her needs clearly, and he accepted both. Those things that do not interfere with her duties, she chooses. He accepts her unusual vegetable gardens and her minor obsession about food. He accepts that her guards—decorative guards when she is at home—are not Imperial Guards.

  “In turn, she allows him to govern as he sees fit. They are partners in their endeavors; they have balanced the needs of those who live within the fief with the imperatives of defense against Shadow. There are things Tara cannot do, even if she might otherwise desire to do so, and Tara does not—I’m sorry, Helen—have the liberty to
make the choices you have made.”

  Helen wasn’t offended.

  “Bellusdeo’s entire life was war,” Emmerian continued, his voice much softer.

  With a flash of insight, Kaylin said, “You want more for her.”

  The orange receded briefly; Kaylin had surprised him.

  “I cannot want more for her—but I have gone to war. I have seen Dragons who excel at war. Lannagaros was, as I have mentioned, a legend to us. But he forced himself to excel at war because he felt he had no choice.” Gold returned to his eyes. “He is happy now. No force but death will move him from the chancellorship he has undertaken.” He smiled. “The Academia and its various possibilities, its many paths to the future, are as much his hoard as the Empire is the Emperor’s.”

  “Bellusdeo’s nothing like the Arkon. I mean the chancellor.”

  “No.”

  “You think she could be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Kaylin exhaled. “You think she might die if she tries to take Candallar’s Tower.”

  “Yes. I have never, however, been in a position to observe such an exchange. You have. Tell me, Corporal. Do you think it is without risk? Was it without risk when Helen adopted you?”

  Helen cleared her throat.

  “No.”

  “And when Tiamaris took the Tower, was that without risk?”

  Definitely not.

  “You can’t go with her?” Helen asked of the Dragon.

  “I do not feel that she would accept my company.” He then looked at Kaylin.

  “I am not at all certain that’s a good idea,” Helen told him. He hadn’t spoken. He probably didn’t need to.

  Clearly, being a corporal changed very little about her relationship with the Imperial Court. “You want me to follow her.”

  “Not follow. Not precisely,” Emmerian replied. “I would, however, like to second you from the Hawks for a small period of time.”

  “I just became a corporal,” Kaylin said, aware that there was more than a hint of whine in her voice. She struggled to squelch it.

  “Yes. Congratulations, by the way.” Emmerian rose. “I will speak with the Emperor.”

  “If you try to make me babysit, Bellusdeo’s going to be angry.” She considered using stronger language, but decided against; Emmerian probably knew exactly what angry meant in Bellusdeo’s case.

  “Babysit implies a certain degree of authority and control that would not be applicable in this situation.”

  Kaylin exhaled. “Look, I’ve been seconded to the Imperial Court before. There’s no reason to have me do it now. If you give her any choice, she won’t accept me. If you give her no choice, she’ll be beyond angry. She’s been taking Maggaron everywhere; he’s eight feet tall, and while I did well in combat training, he spent most of his life at war.

  “She’s just going to feel insulted.”

  Emmerian nodded. Water was wet, after all.

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “If she feels insulted at your inclusion,” he replied, the barest hint of amusement shifting the contours of his face, “she will contain the anger. She might make noise, but there are strict practical limits to how she displays that anger.”

  “And she can fight with you.”

  “Yes. In fighting, as you call it, with me—or any other member of the Court—there will be collateral damage. There is a reason that the Emperor created the Halls of Law; you, as Hawk, can safely do what he cannot. When Dragons rage, the damages are far more extensive.”

  “She knows that she can’t go full Dragon in the middle of the city.”

  “You are certain?”

  Kaylin was annoyed. She folded her arms and glared up at Lord Emmerian. “No. You are.”

  Emmerian closed his eyes and nodded.

  That might have been the end of it, but Hope squawked.

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Terrano said.

  * * *

  “Why are you even here?” Kaylin demanded. Helen’s expression made clear that he hadn’t asked for—or received—her permission to enter the room.

  “Well, we were talking—”

  “You’re always talking. About what?”

  “Candallar’s Tower, actually.”

  Emmerian’s eyes plunged into orange. There was no way Terrano didn’t notice.

  “It’s empty, right? The Arkon killed him.”

  “Towers can function for some time in the absence of a lord. Tiamaris’s Tower did,” Helen told him, her voice chillier than usual.

  “But it causes problems, even in the short term.”

  “Terrano.”

  “Sedarias thinks one of us should take the Tower. Not that we’re unhappy with Helen,” he added, a rare display of courtesy, if mistimed. “We understand sentient buildings, and we’re at home in them.”

  “Absolutely not,” Kaylin snapped. She was thinking of the beings that had awakened in Castle Nightshade, and the deaths they had caused.

  “We need a base of operations we have some control over,” Terrano continued. “We can’t stay with Helen forever.”

  Kaylin opened her mouth.

  “You’re mortal, in case it’s escaped your notice. And Sedarias has painted a target on her forehead. Helen can keep us all safe in the immediate future—but when you die, there’s going to be another tenant. This new mortal, whoever they are, has no reason to let us remain here. We’d have to move, and Sedarias isn’t certain she can establish a secure base of operations in the remaining time left.

  “She thinks Candallar’s Tower could serve as that base.”

  “The people who captain the Tower have very specific duties and responsibilities. You can’t just waltz in and out of the Towers the way you can Helen.”

  “Yes, we’re aware of that. But a couple of us have no home to return to anyway.”

  Emmerian cleared his throat.

  “I don’t think he’s joking,” Helen told the Dragon Lord. “But I must ask a question.”

  “Sure,” Terrano said.

  “Of Lord Emmerian, as you well know,” Helen said.

  Emmerian nodded. His eyes were fully orange, and looked like they were locked into that color.

  “I am under the impression from the words you have spoken that the Emperor does not desire that Bellusdeo take the former Tower—if that is even possible.”

  Emmerian nodded.

  “You do not agree.”

  He exhaled. For the first time Kaylin could remember, there was smoke in the air that left his mouth and nostrils. “She is a Warrior Queen at heart. It is what she knows best, and this is an enemy that she has—”

  “Lost against,” Terrano chimed in.

  Emmerian’s eyes darkened.

  “Terrano,” Kaylin said, through clenched teeth, “go away.”

  “I believe that would be for the best,” Helen added, as Terrano dematerialized. “My apologies, Lord Emmerian.”

  Emmerian returned to his seat. “You understand my dilemma.”

  “I do. The Emperor’s desires are quite clear, and seem entirely logical to me. And there is always a risk when attempting to captain a Tower. Bellusdeo did not kill the former captain, which is a mark in her favor if the Tower was at all attached to Candallar. But it is not a simple matter to take a Tower, and in my opinion, it is not possible at all if the Tower itself does not desire it.

  “There is a significant risk to Bellusdeo’s attempt—if you believe that is what is happening.”

  “Is that what she is attempting?” Emmerian asked.

  Helen’s smile was soft, but tinged with regret. “Of all the guests currently beneath my roof, it is Bellusdeo who requires the most privacy. I therefore cannot answer the question. I would, however, consider the cohort more likely to survive an attempt to
take a reluctant Tower; they are beings that the Towers or Hallionne, or even buildings such as myself, were not created to withstand. Their existence could not be predicted.”

  Kaylin cleared her throat. “You know that Alsanis wasn’t allowed to harm his guests, right? If Alsanis had wanted to kill them, they’d be dead.”

  “Yes.”

  “The Towers don’t have the whole don’t hurt your guests thing.”

  “Probably not, no. You will understand, however, that the Towers, as sentients, are not all of one thing, and no blanket statements you make are guaranteed to be accurate.”

  Kaylin nodded.

  Emmerian ignored the digression. “And you consider the attempt of the cohort to captain such a Tower wise?”

  “Pragmatically speaking, they are twelve. Bellusdeo is one. They can travel and interact in ways no other citizen of this Empire can.”

  “They’re twelve, yes. But they’re twelve very tightly interconnected people. If they make the attempt and one of them actually perishes—” Kaylin stopped.

  Helen’s Avatar nodded. “Terrano will be coming back, soon.” Her gaze had not moved from Emmerian’s face.

  “We cannot protect people from themselves,” Emmerian replied. “Unless they are children, but even that is entirely temporary.”

  “I don’t know—Terrano seems to have achieved perpetual childhood.”

  The Dragon coughed. “What Bellusdeo needs,” he finally said, “is not necessarily what the Dragon Court—of which she is not part, except in a racial courtesy sense—needs of her. And it has not been her way to seek permission. Were it, I would counsel acceptance.” He rose again and turned to face Kaylin. “I want you with her while she examines her options. There is some possibility that the outcome will be a happy one for her.”

  “But not the Emperor.”

  “His hoard is by far the most ambitious I have seen,” Emmerian replied. “He does not wish Bellusdeo to live in misery. Lannagaros has often offered his counsel, but Lannagaros has been extremely busy these past few weeks, and it is unlikely he will be less busy in the immediate future. He is happy,” Emmerian added. “Bellusdeo knows this.