House War 03 - House Name

by Michelle West

  “We cannot allow this information to be known; if people know of it, and know that they cannot detect these creatures easily, there will be panic. And the panic will be twofold.” She turned, then, to look at Jewel, at Meralonne, and at the foreigners.

  “First, people will begin to look for demons where none exist, and I fear that the innocent may well suffer in such a hunt, and second—and most important—if the kin are involved in higher levels of our own councils, they may feel the need to prematurely move against us, our House, and our supporters. We must leak information, and that information must be true; we must let them know that we are stymied in our search and that we suspect only the mage-born.

  “I have begun a ‘private’ investigation into the mage-born members of the Order of Knowledge, to this end. I have also sent my operatives into the lower holdings to search for foreign mages who may have been involved in this black art.”

  “And why do we need to involve our foreign guests in our internal matters?”

  “Because,” The Terafin replied, “it seems that Stephen of Elseth—unlike Meralonne or any of the mage-born—can see the demon-kin without resorting to the use of spell. He does not need to search for the signs; if he can see the creature, we believe he will know it for what it is.”

  “What proof do you have of this?”

  Jewel almost cringed at the question; Devon must be important in the House. No one else spoke to The Terafin in that tone of voice. But The Terafin didn’t appear to notice.

  Meralonne, however, replied. “For reasons that are not clear to me or to any of us, the demons are searching for Stephen and Lord Elseth. They were waiting at the western demi-wall for their arrival.”

  “Waiting? That implies they knew they would be here.”

  Stephen nodded and joined the conversation quietly. “We met them first in Breodanir. At the time, they were hunting Espere,” he added, nodding quietly to the girl who sat on the floor. “She is not quite right, and we hoped to find both the answer to the question of why the demons hunted her and the cure to her condition—if it can be cured—here.”

  “And instead you have found that these creatures are here and hunting for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” Devon said softly. His gaze drifted to the center of the table, his expression shuttered and neutral.

  The Terafin didn’t give him much time to think. “The demon they met here wore the guise of a magisterial truthseeker. We have been able to ascertain which truthseeker; he has been in service to the courts for more than fifteen years.” She returned to the chair behind her desk and sat slowly, watching Devon ATerafin. “Devon?”

  “Yes,” he told her, after a brief pause. “I understand it.”

  “And you understand that no word of this is to leave the House?”

  “Are you so sure that this is a House affair?”

  Jewel winced, certain of what was to follow.

  “It does not matter if I am not,” she said severely, as Meralonne grimaced in Devon’s direction. “I gave you an order.”

  Devon was utterly silent, but to Jewel’s surprise, so was Meralonne. It was rare; by this point in any discussion—most of which came down to the question of external information—he would have at least broken out his pipe and raised his voice a few notches.

  “Devon, Patris Cordufar owes his loyalty to which House?”

  “Darias.”

  “Indeed. Do you see?”

  Jewel wanted to weep with frustration, because Devon nodded, and his silent nod brought her no closer to understanding. Darias was one of The Ten. This much she knew from Rath’s lessons—the lessons that had seemed such a pointless waste of time.

  The Terafin continued to speak. “It may indeed be that this matter is not solely a difficulty that my House must face. But to bring it to the attention of Kings, in the light of the assassination attempt, will cost us more than I wish to pay upon the Council. If it comes to that, it is a decision I will make.”

  Devon was silent for a long moment. Jewel couldn’t understand why. When he finally spoke, his words—given The Terafin’s—made almost no sense. “I will remain ATerafin if you judge me worthy.”

  Her expression made clear that she didn’t value any questioning of her judgment; she did not relieve him of the House Name, however.

  “As a member of your House of little rank and merit, I must ask a boon.”

  “Ask, then,” she replied, as if she had expected—and prepared—for this much.

  “It is not, unfortunately, of you that that favor must be asked.” But he nodded to his lord before he turned his attention, and his gravity, toward the foreigners. “At court,” he told Stephen, “there are two women, Lady Morgan and Lady Faergif; they are of the Breodani, and they traveled here when their sons inherited the responsibilities of their demesnes. They are sharp and canny in defense of the interests of your kingdom, and they have become accustomed to all things Essalieyanese. But if they learn that a Hunter Lord has left Breodanir to travel to the Empire, they will wish to meet that lord—and, of course, his Huntbrother.”

  “You want us to go to Court?” Lord Elseth spoke with such obvious discomfort that Jewel felt a twinge of genuine sympathy; had she been asked the same thing, her horror would have been silent, but it would have been the same. In the stories she’d heard as a child, and admittedly ones that involved Court were rare, the nobles belonged there. She didn’t. This man, however, was a noble.

  Stephen shot him a look; it was dire. Lord Elseth failed to acknowledge it. “What he means, to say, Lord ATerafin—”

  “Devon will do.”

  “Devon, then. What he means to say is that we are not attired or prepared for a court so complicated and unique as that of the Twin Kings, and he does not wish to insult.”

  Devon did smile at that. Jewel almost snorted.

  “But he would come?”

  “Yes, we would both be happy to accept your invitation.”

  “Good.” Devon rose. “I must prepare for your dogs—they will be properly kenneled and cared for in the style to which they are accustomed.” He bowed, and the bow was deep and formal—but it was entirely the wrong bow. Jewel had never seen its like before.

  As if to underscore the foreign gesture, Devon then turned to The Terafin, and brought his arm to chest in a crisp salute. “Terafin.”

  “ATerafin,” she replied, with a nod that acknowledged his respect. “We will speak again. You may have your day in the two courts, and then we must have your day in the streets of the city. We need to conceal what we do.”

  Devon ATerafin escorted Lord Elseth and his Huntbrother out of the room. Jewel watched them go, but only when the doors had closed did she relax.

  She was troubled. She wasn’t certain why, and it gnawed at her. Devon had called Stephen a Huntbrother; he had called Lord Elseth a Hunter Lord. She had seen neither of the two men in a vision or in the nightmares she sometimes called dreams.

  But she had seen forest, and in that primal, dreaming vision, she had heard the desperate winding of horns. She had seen what emerged from those ancient trees: not men, but something larger, darker, something that defined bestial. Was this what that dream had referred to? These two men?

  “Jewel, your report.” The Terafin’s tone of voice reminded Jewel that it wasn’t only the future she had to fear.

  She swallowed and forced her shoulders to straighten. Then she recounted the previous two days’ worth of failure, trying to make it sound brisk, efficient, and busy. Trying to make it sound as if it were worth two solarii a day, plus fancier room and board than she had ever dreamed of.

  “You work well, Jewel. I understand the difficulty you labor under, and I must add to it. We will no longer send out crews to the various sites that Ararath also mentioned in his letter.”

  Jewel stiffened; she hadn’t been aware that anyone else was working on this at all. But she didn’t question The Terafin. “Instead, I will send you out with Devon, and onl
y Devon.

  “You are to follow his commands in all things; if you feel that his command exceeds my wishes, you are nonetheless obligated to carry out his word. I will take your reports in my chambers, and I will entertain any concerns that you may have at that time. Do I make myself clear?”

  When Jewel left The Terafin’s official reception rooms, Torvan was in the hall. He was not loitering, not exactly; he stood as if he were on duty. But there were already guards on duty, and one of the things she had noticed about the guards was that they operated in pairs. He was a fifth.

  As she passed through the four who did not apparently notice her departure, Torvan fell into step beside her, shortening his stride. He made a lot more noise just walking than she did, and if she were being fair, his armor didn’t look more comfortable than the dress with its pinched sash. She wanted to head straight to her rooms to dump it, preferably in the nearest fireplace. Ellerson, on the other hand, would probably have volumes to say about that.

  They made it halfway to the West Wing before Torvan cleared his throat quietly.

  Jewel exhaled. “I didn’t embarrass her,” she told him curtly.

  He winced.

  “And yes, it was that obvious,” she added. But she couldn’t manage to walk ten yards nursing that particular annoyance; it was what she’d been terrified she’d do, after all.

  “Torvan, do you know Devon ATerafin?” She glanced at his face when his silence had gone on just that little bit too long. “You do.”

  “I am acquainted in passing with most of the members of House Terafin,” he replied.

  “You must have seen him enter the room.”

  “I did.”

  “And you must have seen him leave.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What is he to The Terafin?”

  “He is a member of her House,” Torvan replied.

  “He works in the Trade Commission?”

  Torvan nodded. “He works in the offices of the Royal Trade Commission.”

  She hesitated. Her silence stretched out for at least as long as his had, but hopefully for different reasons; she was not supposed to discuss what she did at the behest of The Terafin with anyone but The Terafin and her mage.

  But . . . the Chosen were often present when some of those discussions took place; they had to know.

  As if he could hear the thought in the pleasant and oddly warm light of the gallery, Torvan said, “You are not to discuss your work.”

  “Can I discuss his, instead?”

  “Not if it coincides with yours.” Torvan grimaced. “Yes, we’re aware of what you do, Jewel. We’re not deaf. But we’re The Terafin’s Chosen; what we’re permitted to know, we keep to ourselves. It’s treason to do otherwise, and The Chosen are subject to the Laws of The Ten, and not the courts of the Empire.”

  “The Laws of the Ten?”

  He glanced at her. “How much of our history do you understand?”

  Because it was Torvan, she didn’t bridle.

  “You know that The Ten occupy a special position in the Empire.”

  Since everyone knew that, given the holidays, she allowed herself to grind her teeth a bit. She did, however, manage to nod.

  “What we’re told at the Gathering of the Ten is that they were granted special privileges by the Twin Kings because of their choice to war, alongside the first Kings, against the Blood Barons. In and of itself, this is true—but it’s less clear which came first: the agreements or the service.” His smile was slight, and wry. “House Law is, in its entirety, separate from Imperial Law, as long as no members outside of the House are involved.

  “This allows, among other things, House Wars,” he added, his voice dropping, the words trailing off. “Inasmuch as the victims of the struggle for succession are Terafin, their deaths are not investigated by the magisterial guards or courts without the express request of the ruler of the House.

  “If, however, the House Lord requests such an intervention, the discoveries made during the investigation are all subject to Imperial Law. I’ve heard—we’ve all heard—Member APhaniel’s many arguments with The Terafin. Understand that there is a reason she has not yet taken this to the Kings.

  “She is the House, to us.”

  Jewel knew he meant the Chosen.

  “And there has been no contest of her rule since she became The Terafin. But should she weaken the House by allowing the Kings access to all of its internal affairs, there would be.” He shook himself. “I wander. What I meant to say is that the Chosen who break her confidence or her edict commit treason against the House, and at her discretion, they suffer the same penalties that treason against the Crowns incurs.”

  “That’s not why you don’t do it.”

  “No.”

  “And that’s got nothing to do with Devon.”

  He exhaled. “Devon ATerafin specializes in the minutiae of the Trade Commission and its various grants; he is considered something of an expert.”

  “And why exactly would an expert in trade law be dragging me through the city streets?” She reddened. “Hypothetically.”

  “It is not all that he does. Understand that the House strength is measured by the competence of its members. Its members serve in various capacities in many of the guilds and in the Order of Knowledge; they are also merchants and craftsmen. As men and women with jobs external to the House and its politics, their loyalties are of necessity split between two duties.

  “In some cases, those duties are very, very difficult to navigate.” He paused. “We are at your rooms,” he told her quietly. It was true. He hesitated for just a moment, and then said, “Ask Ellerson about the Astari.”

  She nodded.

  “The Astari?”

  Jewel almost took a step back at the tone of Ellerson’s voice; the single word was sharp and harsh, and his eyebrows had flexed, both rising and falling in ways that were almost unseen on his face.

  “Why are you asking about the Astari?”

  Torvan told me to ask you. She did not, however, say this out loud. “I heard the word in passing.”

  He lifted one gray brow in open disbelief, and she had the grace to redden and look at the carpets, which had the advantage of actually being visually interesting.

  “Do not, if you have any choice in the matter, become involved with the Astari.”

  “Why? What or who are they?”

  He shook his head. She had come upon him in the rooms that he generally occupied when he wasn’t herding the den from one place to another, and he now lifted an obviously used rag and began to polish a silver goblet. “I like to keep busy,” he said, by way of explanation. “And the servants have not yet complained about my work.”

  “I don’t think they’re allowed to.”

  “They are absolutely not allowed to complain to you,” he replied firmly. “I, however, am almost one of their number.”

  She highly doubted it, but she kept that to herself. “The Astari?”

  “They are the personal guards of the Twin Kings.”

  “You mean, like the Chosen?”

  “No, they are nothing like the Chosen.”

  “But—”

  “Guard is a euphemism. You are familiar with that word?”

  “Maybe.”

  He frowned. “They serve the Kings, and they protect them. The protection they provide is seldom the simple protection of sword and shield; the Kings’ Swords are in Avantari for that purpose.”

  “So . . . what do they do?”

  He set his work aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They watch. They spy, where they can, upon people of power within the Empire, most of whom are concentrated within Averalaan, but not all. When it becomes necessary, they are rumored to remove possible threats.”

  “Remove?”

  “Assassinate.”

  Her brows rose. “But—but that’s—”

  “They distrust everyone,” Ellerson continued, with a slight nod as Jewel failed to come up with the appropriat
e word. “They owe loyalty only to their duties and to the Kings, and even the word of the Kings does not always supercede those duties; they have some discretion in their pursuits.

  “They are very, very ill-loved,” he added.

  “And if—if I were to be . . . introduced . . . to a member of the Astari, what would it mean?”

  Ellerson watched her carefully. “Have you been?”

  She was silent.

  “If you were to be called upon or questioned by the Astari, you would meet only one man. The head of the Astari, and its only public face: Duvari. You would not be allowed to speak with him alone,” Ellerson said softly. “The Terafin would not allow it, and the Kings could not overrule her.”

  Jewel frowned. “She wouldn’t have that jurisdiction.”

  His frown deepened.

  “I’m not ATerafin.”

  “Then avoid them, while you can.”

  “Ellerson—”

  “But if you do not meet Duvari, the Astari will ask you no obvious questions. It is why you must learn to guard your tongue.”

  “Not in the House—”

  “In the House. On the street. In parlors. In taverns. In the Common and in the High Market.”

  She fell silent, considering the full weight of his words. “Here?” she asked, at last.

  “No. Here, oddly enough, it is safe to dissemble. No domicis has ever served as Astari. No man can serve two masters.”

  She hesitated. “You’re certain?”

  He said nothing, and after a minute, she apologized. He nodded. “Very well. Let us pretend, for the sake of discussion, that you will have some contact with the Astari. If the contact you have is not Duvari, you will not know.”

  “But—”

  “But it is likely that The Terafin will suspect. Jewel, I have heard your many and varied arguments with Member APhaniel of the Order of Knowledge. It is a constant surprise to me that most of the House has not heard them. And I am using the word ‘varied’ kindly in this instance.”

  “Sorry, Ellerson. But he—”

  “If you say, ‘He started it,’ I shall be disappointed.”