“I haven’t drunkenly done anything,” Terian said with more than a little bite. “But I surely could use a drink right now.”
“I doubt that would improve your situation in any measurable way.”
“I have my doubts that I’ll be walking out of this party under my own power regardless of what I do,” Terian said darkly. “You heard Shrawn—”
“I heard the idle chatter of a man who doesn’t truly know you,” Dahveed said.
“He knows me,” Terian said. “He knows me well enough to know that I’m an insufferable bastard, especially around people trying to lord their power over me. He knows me well enough that I’ll bristle if the Sovereign says anything that steps on my sense of absurdity or right and wrong.” Terian brought a hand up over his eyes. “He knows me well enough, Dahveed. Well enough to smell my imminent demise from across the room.”
Dahveed seized Terian by the shoulder and pulled him around, looking into his eyes with a seriousness that was out of character for the good-humored healer. “Then prove him wrong. Show him that you have changed. That you have control over your mouth, a brake on your actions. This is a necessary thing for the heir of House Lepos; it won’t do to have you trying to strike down everyone in your path with word or axe. Prove him wrong.” With that, Dahveed let loose of him and faded into the crowd as Terian stared numbly at the space he’d occupied before turning to look at the shadowed alcove across the room.
He moved stiffly, an unnatural walk that felt as though his joints were all frozen in place. What do I say? This is the Sovereign of Saekaj and Sovar! What can I say that won’t sound like idiotic platitudes or idle arse kissing? With each step his mind grew blanker, his mouth grew drier, and his feet carried him closer to the dark alcove where the shadows hung thick.
He felt a strong hand on his arm and paused, wondering who would dare. He needed to see nothing more than the blue hair to realize. “Kahlee?” He watched the surge of irritation run across her face. “I’m a little surprised.”
“Imagine how surprised I am,” Kahlee said, removing her hand and holding it apart from her body, as though it were contaminated. “Are you going to speak to the Sovereign?”
“I am,” Terian said, his voice sounding strangely choked. “Shrawn told me he wants to speak to me.”
“Fathoms and Depths,” Kahlee said softly. “Keep your tongue in line, fool.” Her head shook, strands of light blue hair falling to and fro as she did. “Lest you find it on the buffet table being served to fat old Lord Freitoth.”
“Keeping a civil tongue was uppermost on my mind,” Terian said, “given that if I don’t, said mind will be disconnected from the rest of me by the swing of an executioner’s axe.”
Kahlee’s eyes flashed. “I know you well enough, Terian, or I did before you left. Any civil tongue you had was torn out long ago by—”
“Yes, thank you,” Terian said abruptly. “I remember it well.”
Kahlee’s voice softened. “Just … don’t be a fool. Ameli would hate it if you were to be killed for something so idiotic as speaking your mind to the Sovereign.”
“I’ll just try to forget I have a mind for a few minutes,” Terian said. “I’ll pretend I’m someone stupid, like Tolada.”
Kahlee’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Who?”
“Never mind.” Terian turned his eyes toward the alcove again then back to Kahlee. “What are you doing here? Society party and all that? Doesn’t really seem like your sort of soiree.”
Kahlee stiffened, and for the first time Terian realized her dress was indeed somewhat formal and vastly different from the servants clothing she’d worn in the market. “Not all of us have the luxury of abandoning our families, Terian. I’m here to do my duty.”
Terian felt a low rumble of amusement. “You have your hair dyed like a servant’s, you’re as thin as a beggar, and you go to the market by yourself dressed like the hired help. I can’t help but feel you’ve bucked more than few familial expectations yourself.”
“There is a line between disagreeing with someone and leaving them,” Kahlee said, without a trace of amusement. “Here, allow me to demonstrate.” With that, she turned and left him standing in the middle of the ballroom. He did not follow, but he did watch her retreat. I don’t mind thin at all … He wasn’t too proud to notice she looked back once, but only quickly.
Once she was well out of his sight, Terian turned back to the alcove. Duty. My duty. Family honor. These are the things I need to remember going into this. Not the sight of Kahlee walking away—though I can’t imagine what harm that would do—NO! Duty. Family honor.
With a sharp breath, Terian eased on through the crowd, skirting the edge of conversational circles that moved to let him pass as he threaded his way toward the dark alcove. Maybe he’s not in there. Terian kept himself from laughing out loud. And maybe a bounty of ten million gold pieces will fall into my lap so I can leave this hell and start a new life in Aloakna free of worry.
There was a gap between the last group in conversation and the wall, a gap that was sizable and not at all accidental. Everyone knows he’s here. Guturan must have known, too. Why wouldn’t he have said something to prepare me …? Oh, right. Because he’s smart enough to know I might have run as fast as I could to the Unnamed and buried myself in a bottle of Reikonosian whiskey. He gave it a moment’s thought. But would I have? Really?
Or would I be standing right here, ready to face the darkness?
He stared into the shadowed alcove and knew that the tentativeness must be present on his face. He willed himself to relax and then stepped up to the edge of the darkness. “My Sovereign …?” He listened expectantly, hoping deep inside that he would not hear any answer.
“Terian Lepos,” came the slow, raspy, dragging response. “Son of my left hand, Heir to the second-most honored house in my land. I look upon your face for the first time.” Each word came slowly and sounded oddly snakelike in the hiss. “You have done … well.”
“Thank you, my Sovereign,” Terian said and bowed deeply. “Thank you … My Lord Yartraak. I bow before your darkness.”
Chapter 26
“Do you see the difference in this city since I have returned?” Yartraak said from within the shadows. Terian could see the inky blackness stirring in the alcove.
Terian tried not to look in at him. The God of Darkness. The actual God of Darkness. The Sovereign. Gone for a hundred years back to his realm, hiding his face and licking his wounds after leading us to ignominious defeat in the last war. Gods, Terian thought, realizing the blasphemy of such a simple thought, if only he’d go back!
There was a smell that hung in the air, something strong and oily. The ambient noise of the party continued behind him, hushed voices speaking irrelevancies while he paused, then looked into the face of the deity of their nation. Well, I look into the darkness that contains his face, somewhere. “I see … people moving with purpose, my Sovereign.”
“During the interregnum of my absence, the people languished,” Yartraak said. “The Sovereignty folded in upon itself, losing all the territory we had amassed over thousands of years, retreating into the borders of Saekaj Sovar and the uplands above us.”
Do I throw Dagonath Shrawn to the wolves by agreeing with him here? It would only take a subtle push. “Naturally,” Terian said. “No leader could fill your … uh … shoes. You know, if you indeed do wear shoes.”
A rasping chuckle came back at him. “I do indeed wear shoes. Made from the skins of my enemies, but shoes nonetheless.” Terian heard a deep breath being drawn and wondered if it was his own. “Do I detect a subtle attack at Dagonath Shrawn in your words, Terian Lepos?”
“I don’t think it was all that subtle, my Sovereign.” Well, shit, that can’t even be written off as a slip of the tongue.
The rasping laugh came again. “The impetuousness of youth gives your tongue a quicksilver edge. Your father, wiser, more mature, would have gone about it much d
ifferently but still driven the same point home.”
Terian felt a surge of boldness brought on by the Sovereign’s laughter. “What’s the point of holding back? You left the Sovereignty in the hands of Shrawn and we shrank while the humans and elves took our territory.”
“You might exercise more caution, given that your father has had control of my army during that entire time.”
Terian cleared his throat, fighting back the urge to grit his teeth. “Subordinate to the orders of the tribunal. It wasn’t as though he could march off and strike through the humans to reclaim what was rightfully ours. Yours,” Terian amended. “Rightfully yours.”
There was a brief silence from the darkness. “You are blunt to a fault, Terian Lepos. But this is a fruitless discussion, a sifting of old ashes rather than a kindling of new fires. You have returned, and to a city that is once more on the rise. Our army is growing again. Our predations are small now but soon to grow in intensity and boldness. You rejoin us at the cusp of the rise of the Sovereignty to claim our rightful place as the rulers of all Arkaria.” There was a pause. “And you sit in the line of succession of the second-most powerful noble house in our land. Tell me, young Terian—do you feel the weight of responsibility upon your shoulders?”
“More and more by the day,” Terian said.
“Good. That is as it should be. Your burden was once shirked. You left the path laid out before you in favor of one given by … that false, thieving, accursed knave who sits atop your former guild.”
What? Is he talking about Alaric? Terian kept his face free of any emotion. Does he even know the man? “You mean—”
“Do not say his name,” Yartraak said. “Forget it, and forget him. Your old comrades do not exist for the purposes of our discussion; best you cleanse your mind of all memories of those days. Focus your thought and attention on your duty and the bright future I see ahead of you … Lord Terian.”
Terian knelt. “As you wish, my Sovereign. I will exert all my energies toward my father’s orders … and your will.”
“Excellent.” There was a stirring in the darkness. “One other thing …”
Terian’s eyes darted up from where he knelt. “Anything, my Lord Yartraak.”
“Your … evening entertainments,” Yartraak said. “It would be exceptionally wise to keep yourself within the bounds of decency. Lest you give your friend Lord Shrawn some additional material with which to convince others of your … failings.”
Terian stared into the darkness and felt his mouth open slightly. The words slipped out before he could pull them back. “Would my spending every evening satiating myself with eighteen whores convince you I am an unworthy heir to the House of Lepos? Or are you concerned with my performance of the tasks you set before me?”
There was a silence broken by a deep, rasped breath. “My concern … is that a man with so much power at his fingertips, keeps said fingers preoccupied with his duties rather than the pursuit of every leisure that his body compels him toward. If you require satiation, find yourself a mistress.” Terian’s eyes widened. At least he didn’t say … “And find yourself a wife as well.” There it is. “I may not have interest in these standards, but your fellow members of society do, and staying within the bounds of their societal conventions is not only expected, it is required for one in my service.”
There was a long quiet, and then Terian heard a scraping of what sounded like claws on a wood table. “Now, go Terian Lepos, and heed my words … and soon enough, we shall meet again.”
Chapter 27
The oily scent that had hung in the air around the alcove lingered as Terian bowed and started back toward the fringes of the crowd of partygoers. His head was swimming with the thoughts of what had taken place in the conversation. Find a mistress and a wife? No pressure, you just got told what to do by the Sovereign. His vision seemed to darken, the party ahead under a shroud that he was sure only existed in his mind. Candles and hearths still burned, after all, shedding the same light as he’d seen by before he’d walked to the alcove.
Yet, somehow, the room seemed dimmer to his eyes.
Terian cut a path through the circles of conversing guests, ignoring the stares and murmured comments. The low buzz of conversation was louder now, with voices raised to reach his ears in an attempt to pull him within the bounds of each circle.
“Heir of Lepos is favored by the Sovereign—”
“The House of Shrawn is on the decline, you think?”
“The House of Ehrest will replace them in that seat by year’s end—”
“An heir disinherited once will always be in danger of being cast out again—”
He steamed past each of them, not rising to the bait laid out in his path. Fools. Fools and attention-seekers, trying to cross my path in any way possible. And me, unable to duel.
Still, his way remained clear, the crowds moving aside and throwing only ill-timed jibes at Terian as he passed. Until he reached one soul who did not move. He was dimly aware of a steel-hued, armored figure in his path, but it took his eyes an unfocused moment to discern what he was seeing.
“Sareea Scyros,” Terian said, sighing as he came to a halt. “I should have known you’d be here.”
She cocked her head at him, an almost playful trace of a smile perched on her lips. “It is a gathering of the most powerful people and houses in Saekaj. I could scarcely be elsewhere, could I?”
“I think you may have an overinflated opinion of your house’s importance,” Terian said, and he moved to pass her.
She put out an arm and he stopped, giving her a searing look of annoyance. “Perhaps I’m just calculating and shrewd enough to play the role of importance while I’m securing it for myself. After all, if one acts like a pauper one’s whole life, one can scarcely be expected to rise to the nobility.”
“A grain mouse could try to act like a vek'tag, but that would hardly make it one,” Terian said, and made to pass her by again. She stopped him once more, and he fired her an even more irritated look as he sighed in annoyance. “Do you intend to block my passage all evening, or will I be allowed to go home at some point?”
“According to your father, you’re not to leave until a reasonable interval of time has passed,” Sareea said, still smiling.
Terian froze. “Gave you those orders, did he?”
“He did.” The smile never wavered. “And I’ll see they’re carried out at any cost—but you already know that.”
There was something chilling about the way she said it, so bereft of any emotion, so matter of fact, as though she were simply a party guest having a conversation about some trifling detail. I don’t want to fight her. At least, not here. “How long is a ‘reasonable interval of time’?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Sareea said. “Your father was very specific—at least one hour after speaking with the Sovereign. Anything less would seem rude by its very nature. Leave within a half hour, and it would seem rude to the Sovereign to dash out after speaking to him, as though you were affronted in some way. Leave in the half hour after that, and it would be rude to your host and his guests, as though you only came to speak with Sovereign.” Her smile remained in full force, cold and yet light. “As though they were insignificant to you.”
Terian held his tongue for only a brief second. “They are insignificant to me.”
“I know,” she said, and her smile broadened, “but best not tell them that.” She leaned closer and whispered, “It’s against the rules, you see.”
“What rules?” Terian could hear the disgust in his own voice.
“Why, the rules of polite society,” Sareea said, and now her lip quivered as though her smile were going to break even further out of control. “This is entirely a society of rules. We have rules for everything—where you can live, what you can do, who you can speak to, how you can speak to them, who you can touch, who you can sleep with,” her expression changed not a whit. “Only a fool fails to notice the r
ules in this country, and all fools end up in the Depths sooner or later.” She let that statement hang between them as her nostrils flared and she drew a deep breath. “You don’t strike me as an utter fool, Terian, though you do some very foolish things at times.”
“Oh, really?” Terian asked and kept his anger under wraps. “Such as?”
“Did you really think your father was going to let me stay permanently dead?” Her smile trod the line close to a sneer but stopped short.
“Personally, I wouldn’t have risked it if I were you,” Terian said, “but I suppose I know him better than you.”
“You know nothing,” Sareea said. “This is how the game is played.”
“I don’t see a game,” Terian said.
“Then perhaps you are a fool indeed,” Sareea said as the crowd bustled around them. “This is all a game, every bit of it. The rules are part of it. Sacrificing things of worth is never done pointlessly, it is always done for a reason. Your father knows how to play this game well, which is why he is now sitting at the left hand of the Sovereign. He calculates. He weighs the odds, weighs the alternatives, considers his actions to greatest effect. Why would he pointlessly kill a new knight sent to him when he can find use for her?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Terian said with a sneer, “but I’ve seen him do it before.” He made to brush past her but this time she interposed her body against his, their armor clacking against each other’s as she leaned close and whispered in his ear.
“You’ve seen him make calculated sacrifices,” she said, “seen him do things to profit himself and his house. You’ve watched with the emotion of a child while he put aside emotion to make choices that vaulted him upward. Your father is not a fool, and you would do well to remember it. My resurrection after my sacrifice was as assured as him ordering me to kill you afterward.” He could feel her hot breath on his neck, on his ear as her warm whisper carried past his cheek.
Thy Father's Shadow (Book 4.5) Page 15