“Does this look like the face of a man dissatisfied, Xem?” Terian looked up at him and pasted a fake smile upon his lips.
“It looks like the face of a man trying his hardest to appear a fool.”
“I don’t have to try very hard.”
“You have a beautiful young bride,” Xem said, “the favor of your father, more gold than you can spend—”
“And less to spend it on, now that I have responsibilities,” Terian said.
“—you don’t want for the finest food, you have a plum job if ever there was one,” Xem said, as though he were ticking off the points on his finger. “Oh, and last I heard, you’re favored by the Sovereign as well. Or was that another god hiding in that cloud of infinite darkness in the back of your wedding?” Xem let air out through his lips. “Never heard of him going to anyone else’s wedding, that’s for sure.”
“Indeed, Xemlinan,” Terian said, “You have spoken truly and I cannot refute a single point you have made. Why, I seem to have the world by the ass.” He lifted his glass. So why can’t I sleep at night? But he did not dare to say it.
Xem watched him carefully, as if trying to see if he was being disingenuous. After a moment he gave up and shrugged his shoulders before turning back to organizing bottles behind the bar. “I can’t even tell when you’re being serious anymore. It used to be easy because it happened so rarely.”
“Nothing is so rare as a man who gets everything he wants in life,” Terian said and flinched a little as he said it. He kept his eyes on Xem to make sure he did not see. Of course, I haven’t gotten a damned thing I wanted out of my life …
“It almost sounds like you appreciate it,” Xem said. “When you say it like that, anyhow.” He put a bottle up on a high shelf as there came the sound of the door opening.
“I’ll work on that,” Terian said as his eyes went to the door. A stranger came in wearing a long cloak with his cowl pulled up over his head. He was tall for a dark elf, though not as large as Grinnd. Terian watched him with practiced disinterest, waiting to see if his cowl would slip to reveal his face.
“Hello, stranger,” Xemlinan said, putting on his best faux smile. “What can I get for you?”
“A bottle of Reikonosian whiskey to match my friend’s in the corner,” came a hushed voice from beneath the cowl. Terian squinted at the dark cloak. The voice sounded … familiar, and his mind raced to place it. Raced, and failed, the swimming sensation behind his eyes hampering his ability to think.
“Are we friends?” Terian replied, the answer coming as naturally to his lips as drawing a sword came to his hand.
“I would regard you as a friend, Terian,” the man replied. He faced Xemlinan, waiting as the bartender reached behind him and pulled down a bottle of whiskey as the stranger placed a gold coin on the bar. “Whether you would still do the same is really more up to you.”
“Perhaps if I knew who you are,” Terian said. “I’m not in the habit of befriending empty cloaks, and the problem with the damned things is that they’re a nice disguise to hide behind.”
“Indeed,” the stranger said, and Terian caught a hint of a nod to Xem, whose face showed slight surprise at the identity of the stranger before he nodded in return. With a slow, careful walk, the stranger turned toward Terian and made his way across the Unnamed, metal boots clicking quietly against the stone floor. “Which is probably why I find them so helpful.”
“If you want to hide your face, sure,” Terian said, peering toward the shadowed cowl the stranger was wearing. “Which is kind of a cowardly thing to do.”
“Discretion is the better part of valor, I’m told,” the stranger said, pulling the chair across the table from Terian out with a screech against the floor. “And I did not come here for a fight, so I wore a hood.” The voice …
Terian blinked, and he knew.
The stranger sat down across from him and slipped the cowl back. His helm covered most of his face, but not nearly enough. Not nearly enough, not in Sovar. Pale flesh peered back at him, and a single, solitary grey eye was visible through the slitted helm.
“Hello, Alaric,” Terian said and raised his glass. “So nice to see you.”
Chapter 38
“You know,” Terian said, staring at the little of Alaric’s face revealed through the helm, “humans are who come into Saekaj and Sovar are put to death immediately.”
“Yet here I am,” Alaric said, lips moving under the helm. “Would you like to run and fetch the militia to have me arrested?”
Terian sighed deeply and stared at his glass. “I really don’t have the energy for all that activity. I’m amazed you made it through the gates, honestly. I figure they’ll get you on the way out.”
“What makes you think I came through the gates?” Alaric asked with the thinnest veil of amusement over what Terian could see of his expression.
Terian watched him. “What are you doing here? I doubt it’s for the Reikonosian whiskey, since that’s considerably easier and cheaper to get in Reikonos.”
“Perhaps I’m here for the ambience,” Alaric said. He glanced at Xem. “Or to speak with Xemlinan here. He’s quite the conversationalist, you know.”
Terian glanced at Xem, who shrugged. “It’s a burden of its own kind to be known far and wide for your conversational skills.”
“Meaning you’re a chatty spider in the gossip web,” Terian said darkly, feeling his lips curl at Xem. “I trust my father doesn’t know you’re an information broker?”
“Of course he knows,” Xem said, expression nearly blank. “It’s one of the reasons he saved my life.”
“I doubt he’d be enthused to know you’re treating with outsiders,” Terian said, shaking his head.
“Why, Terian,” Xem said with a curious smile, “what use do you think an information broker would be to your father if he only treated with the people of Saekaj and Sovar?” He shook his head. “None. Your father’s eyes are focused outside these caverns, and he needs eyes outside of them as well.”
“Alaric doesn’t have an eye to spare for my father, I know that much. Are you an ear, Alaric?” Terian said, glancing back to the paladin. “Because personally, I think you’re an ass.”
“I am many things to many people,” Alaric said, and Terian’s skin prickled at the amusement he could hear in the Sanctuary Guildmaster’s voice.
“Yeah, well, if you’re here to talk to Xem, let me get out of your way,” Terian said and made a motion to stand.
“But I haven’t had my drink with you just yet,” Alaric said. There was the firmness of a command in how he said it that made Terian bristle again.
“Just pretend we toasted to old times or something,” Terian said, pulling his cloak off the back of his chair and draping it over his shoulders. “It’ll probably be better than any actual conversation we could have.”
“Why is that?” Alaric said and took a sip of the whiskey in his hand straight from the bottle. “Do you not have exciting news to tell me about the wonderful events in your life of late?”
Terian sent a searing glare at Xem, who busied himself behind the bar. “But of course,” Terian said, fighting back the grimace. “I suppose you’ve heard that things are going marvelously. That I’m my father’s adjutant, helping him handle his affairs. Oh, and I’m married now, to the most eligible woman in Saekaj, so there’s that bit of excellent news.”
“I congratulate you on your nuptials,” Alaric said, and raised the bottle toward him. “May your marriage be filled with much happiness.”
This is Saekaj Sovar; that sort of shit doesn’t happen here, he thought but did not say. “Thank you. Did you just come here to catch up? Or did you have an ulterior motive?”
“I came to see you,” Alaric said, studying him.
“Not to talk to Xem?” Terian gave a slight nod. “Now we get to the truth of it.”
“When have we ever not gotten to the truth of it?” Alaric asked.
Terian gave a faint laugh that was all the funnier from the sensation of the alcohol working on his mind. “When do we ever get to the actual truth of things, Alaric? You kept us Sanctuary officers on a thread all the time. You work in darker mystery than even the Sovereign does, and to much less defined purpose.”
“I have clear purpose,” Alaric said. “And you know very well what it is.”
“To protect the people of Arkaria from impending threats and doom and forgive me if I just go to sleep right now,” Terian said, blowing air between his lips. “You always acted like there was some great evil hanging over our heads at all times, waiting to strike down and smite us.” Terian threw his arms wide. “It gave you this larger than life presence, as if you were working toward anything other than building a bigger guild so you could increase your purse and your influence, just like everyone else in Arkaria.”
“You think I was false in my profession of threats existing outside our walls?” Alaric asked. He did not look offended. Just calm.
“I think you overstated it in order to get your officers to fall in line,” Terian said. “I think you either played overly grandiose or you actually believed it, and I don’t really care which. Your intentions don’t mean shit to me. You intended to run a happy household, but when it got unruly and pruning became necessary, you didn’t want to do what had to be done, and you landed on me like a rock giant on a gnome for letting the wildfires burn out the rot. You lectured me about laws keeping us in check.” Terian sniffed. “Well, there’s one of us in this room that’s violating a law right now, and it isn’t me, and it’s probably not Xem.” He hesitated. “This time, anyway.”
“Terian,” Alaric said, “when last we spoke I talked to you of the importance of keeping intentions restrained so that moral drift doesn’t carry you away down the river to an unrecognizable place.”
“Yeah, and I told you I don’t care,” Terian said. “You know what’s changed? Now I’m in a place where the rules are a little more flexible surrounding things that need to be done. See a problem, solve it. Whatever it takes.”
“And you feel good about this?” Alaric asked. There was disappointment in the way he said it, and it prickled at Terian.
“I feel like I know where I fit in,” Terian said. “And that counts for a lot. I have a wife. I have a life. I have power at my fingertips to help shape things in the ways they need to be shaped.”
“Does your father dictate the way things need to be shaped?” Alaric asked. “Or do you?”
“My father, you,” Terian said airily, “what does it matter who shapes them? At least now when I’m being told what to do I’m being well compensated for it. I’m not scraping along. I’m doing just fine without you.”
“Perhaps we’re not doing as well without you,” Alaric said.
“I figured you’d have promoted Cyrus Davidon to officer by now,” Terian said, shaking his head. “He’s capable. Earnest. Annoyingly earnest, but capable. He could be your new golden boy. He seems like he’d be easily convinced to buy into your bullshit for a while.”
“Cyrus is on a recruiting mission to grow our strength even now,” Alaric said, “and he’s doing well at it. But that’s beside the point. He is not you, Terian.”
“I’m not me anymore,” Terian said, a little flip and a little resigned. “I’m not the same person I was when I left, Alaric. I’ve grown. I’ve faced new challenges, walked a different path.”
“And do you find this path to your liking?” Alaric asked, watching him.
“I’m good at it,” Terian said. “Better than I was at the one you’d set me upon.”
Alaric stared at him, watching carefully, keeping that sole eye on his as though he were reading through to Terian’s mind. Terian tried to keep his face immovable. “I suppose that’s what matters, then,” Alaric said and stood slowly. His armor clanked as he did so.
“It matters to me,” Terian said.
“And that counts for more than anything else,” Alaric said, seemingly agreeing. Terian caught a hint of something else, though, a sort of disagreement too subtle to even protest. “I wish you well in your new path. In your new life.”
Terian set his jaw. “Thank you.” He hesitated as Alaric turned to leave, the whiskey bottle left behind on the table. “Good luck with your … rebuilding.” He felt a twinge of guilt that he shoved away.
Alaric paused at the door to the Unnamed and rested a hand on it before pushing through. “If ever a day comes when you lose your way … I hope you will find the road back to our door.” Without waiting for a response, Alaric pushed through and left.
Terian stared behind him, trying to drum up a response. He found none.
Chapter 39
Terian felt the cool sheets against his skin, the smells of the night and the body pressed against his. The alcohol still gave his head a gentle, swimming sensation as he laid his head against the pillow.
“You had a bit to drink,” she said.
“I’m not drunk,” he said, running a hand over his forehead, which was slick with the sweat of his exertions. He tilted his head to watch as she got out of bed, putting on a vek’tag silken dressing robe and knotting the belt.
“I wouldn’t care if you were,” Sareea said, tilting her head to look back at him with a half-smile. “This is not about sobriety, it’s about release. It’s about what you need.” She ran a hand over his bare chest. It tickled.
Terian let out a slow breath. “I need a damned clue.”
“Oh?” Sareea asked, retreating toward the corner where a chamber pot waited. “Are you still mulling the origin of that sea monster?”
“It didn’t just swim into the Great Sea,” Terian said, staring at the ceiling. “Someone put it there. And it wouldn’t have been easy to do, either.”
“No, nor does it seem likely it were possible when it was as fully grown as the thing we encountered.” She was squatted down, but he could feel her eyes still on him. “So it would have to have been brought in when it was small, yes?”
“Yes.” Terian ran a finger over his lips idly. “But why?”
“There was a time that someone spread wildroot dye over the gates of the greatest manors in Saekaj,” Sareea said, standing up and gathering her robe about her. “When they caught the responsible party, it turned out to be a teenager from near the gate. He had no reason for doing it but that he hated those who had what he did not.”
“So you’d chalk it up to resentment?” Terian said, and looked over at her. She stood, standing aloof as she spoke. “I wish I could. I’m in the midst of looking for deeper connections, darker reasons.”
“You mean to suggest someone intended the thing to eat those fishermen?” Sareea asked, eyes narrowed. “To what purpose?”
“Start insurrections in Sovar?” Terian spoke aloud, letting his thoughts fall out. “Starve the people out a little at a time? I don’t know.”
“Both of those would be an end of some sort,” Sareea said.
“Pretty horrible ends,” Terian said, “for lots of people.”
“Yet some would profit by it.”
“That’s a fairly ghastly way to look at things,” Terian said.
“But true,” she said, thin smile still turning up the corner of her mouth. “Do you not see it?”
“Maybe I don’t want to see it.” He yawned. “It’s pretty horrible way to look at the world, to think someone would put a beast like that in the Great Sea just to starve out the poor.”
“Saekaj is filled with men and women base enough to do something of that sort if the advantage was apparent,” Sareea said. “Would you not do it yourself if you had to?”
“No.” Terian sat up in bed, his disgust outweighing his fatigue. “I have to go home.”
“Very well,” Sareea’s arms crossed in front of her chest.
Terian slid over to the edge of the bed and fished on the floor for his underclothes. “I thought I had a dark mind, but you coming
up with this—”
“Don’t play the innocent,” Sareea said, and he heard a ripple of laughter from her. “As though you can’t see the profit in it yourself for someone who might want to stir animosities in Sovar.”
“Rioting in Sovar benefits no one,” Terian said as he grabbed his rough cloth pants off the floor and struggled into them.
“It benefits someone,” Sareea said. “You just have to be—as you put it—ghoulish enough to see it.”
Terian paused, tightening the cord of his belt. “I don’t think I want to be that ghoulish.”
“Then you’re missing the point. There are dozens who would benefit from upheaval in terms of power consolidation. The army alone has grown by leaps and bounds since the fish supply has dwindled.” She spoke and a thin satisfaction fell off her words. “There’s an advantage right there for your father—he has more soldiers and more power because they’re guaranteed to eat and their families get a larger stipend than if they were aimless poor.”
Terian paused in bed, his hand over the edge and clutching his undershirt. “You’re not accusing him, I hope.”
“I would support him if he’d done it,” Sareea said, though she sounded hollow. “He has my loyalty, remember? I’m just pointing out that you’re not thinking it through because somehow it offends your sensibilities.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Terian said, shaking his head. “Even he’s not that much of a—” He stopped speaking, and closed his eyes. He’s that much of a monster and more.
So much more.
“I doubt he would have sent us to kill the beast if he’d gone to the trouble of unleashing it,” she said. Her voice was hovering somewhere in the darkness that surrounded him now that his eyes were closed. “But I am impressed at your naiveté. It’s almost as if you have enough optimism to want to blindly believe no one would do such things. A peculiar trait in a man who’s made a soul sacrifice as dark as the one that was required of you—”
“Don’t…mention that in my presence again.” His eyes were open now, and he stared straight up at the dark ceiling. He looked right, and knew the danger was radiating off of him. He caught her gaze and saw whatever emotion she was sporting—amusement again, he thought—slip beneath a stony facade.
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