her instruments 02 - rose point

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  Even she was impressed with how the solidigraphic stallion seemed to leap from the ground. While the jury-rigging her Phoenix engineer had done to enable her ancient tablet to offer solidigraphic projections didn’t include smells or heat like something powered by a gem grid could have, it was capable of a life-size solidigraph, one so convincing all the Eldritch lining the carpet to the Queen backpedaled, and several cried out. The projection snorted and pawed the stone ground, then settled, tail whisking around its legs.

  “My Lady, if you agree, I will bring you horses, and use them to improve the breed strength of your herds.”

  The sigh that went through the hall then… that was a good sound. Reese decided to see if she could compound it by walking to the projection and resting a hand on its neck, and it worked. These people had no defense against technology; this was magic to them.

  “This is a promise of horses to come?” Liolesa asked as the crowd murmured and moved, with people in the back struggling for a chance to see.

  “They will look like this one,” Reese said. “I also have access to swift coursers, powerful farm horses, destriers to carry a knight into battle… even ponies for children.”

  That sigh was avarice. She didn’t even have to look at the people staring at her to feel it. No matter what they thought of her, they definitely wanted the horses.

  “Food, spices, and horses,” Liolesa said. “Is that the extent of your wealth, Lady Eddings?”

  Lady Eddings! The words lanced through her, shocking as pain, and in the wake of them she felt clean and bright and present. The hall seemed larger, more brilliant; the moment dearer and more important, as if she stood at a tipping point.

  “No, lady,” Reese said. “I also bring the gifts of the out-world. Heat in winter, and cold in summer. Roofs that don’t leak or fall. Roads in good repair.” She drew in a deep breath and spoke louder, over the growing murmurs around her. “Books for everyone to read, not just the wealthy. People to tend your orchards, fix your cities, and map your world. I will not bring you more than you wish, in respect for your customs—I am not here to remake you in the Alliance’s image. But within the parameters you set, Lady, if you make me your vassal… I will help you change your world.”

  A heartbeat pause, of shock, of waiting. Liolesa’s eyes were fierce and glad and just a little dangerous.

  “Lady Eddings—I accept.”

  In a book, the hall would have erupted into tumult. This one didn’t. The stillness stretched and stretched, so painfully that Reese thought her nerves would break before it did. Liolesa let it extend, and at last said, “Come forth and accept the gift of your liege-lady.”

  Felith had mentioned this part, that Liolesa would give her a present to formalize the new relationship. A token, usually: a medallion, like the one the Queen had already given her, or a wand to symbolize her new status. Reese picked up the data tablet and put it away, then approached the throne to receive it with her hands, as she was now allowed, expecting a pin or some other piece of jewelry.

  Liolesa gave her a scroll.

  “Your Majesty?” Reese asked, low.

  “Open it,” Liolesa said, loud enough for the people around them to hear.

  She stepped back and picked the knot free, then unrolled the parchment. It was… a map. Staring at the atlas with Kis’eh’t allowed her to place it as a part of the northern coast. “My Lady?”

  “A vassal who will bring us the fruit of her orchards and the progeny of her pastures needs a place to site them,” Liolesa said. “For your liege gift, I deed you with the lands once held by House Firilith, in the north.” The shock in the room this time came with exclamations, and even without knowing the language Reese could tell they were outraged. She couldn’t blame them; she was shaking. But the Queen had not finished. “Hear now the first commandment of your Queen, Lady Eddings. You are to repair to Firilith no later than the end of winter, to the estate of Rose Point, where you are to establish the new House of Laisrathera, of which you will be seal-bearer. There are Eldritch living there yet in need of a lady; introduce yourself to them and begin at once your duties as land-holder and caretaker. Your vassal gifts will be due to me at this time next year… and I expect at least one horse. Or two.”

  Could she speak? Her voice broke on the first word, but she got the rest out. “Perhaps Her Majesty would be more content with five or six. Or…” Yes, this might be a good idea, “if it pleases her, perhaps House Laisrathera will make a gift of one each of its first horses to each of the Houses who owe her allegiance.”

  “That is a generous gift,” Liolesa said. “Are you certain of it?”

  “I am.” And she was. Half these people probably wanted to murder her, but she could at least set their greed at war with their prejudices; it might give her all of half a year to work before they came after her with their pitchforks.

  “Then I am agreed,” Liolesa said. “We welcome the newest addition to the peerage.” She stepped down off her throne, and the rest of the gathering dissolved into mingling as if cued.

  Reese remained where she was because she wasn’t sure if her knees would hold her if she tried to walk. The Queen joined her, bending toward her to murmur, “You like my gift?”

  “Are you sure it was a wise gift?” Reese asked.

  “I don’t know,” Liolesa said, eyes sparkling. “Was it?”

  “Your Majesty—”

  “My Lady will do in public.”

  “My Lady,” Reese said, trying to keep her voice low. “Isn’t this giving your enemies a little too much provocation?”

  “Theresa, Theresa.” The Queen shook her head, the minute motion of an Eldritch. “You yourself offered to become a vassal. What did you think that entailed?” She grinned. “Chin up, my own. You can’t do any worse at the duty than some of the people here.”

  Reese stared after the woman as she swanned away, trailing her aura of complete confidence behind her. Blood and soil, what she most needed now was a dose of reality and... here it came. She carefully didn’t look up at Hirianthial as she said beneath her breath, “Tell me the Queen didn’t just make me a noble landowner.”

  “And if she did?”

  That he sounded pleased, amused, gentle... if he hadn’t, she might have fled. But he approved. How could he approve? After all these months of telling them nothing of himself, of his people, to go from that to being fine with her living here? Raising horses here! She didn’t even know one end of a horse from the other!

  “Hirianthial, I... I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t you?” he said.

  “I’m not one of you!”

  “Do you have to be?”

  She looked down at the map rolled in her hand.

  “Laisrathera,” he added. “It means ‘earthrise.’”

  Reese choked on her nervous laugh, pressed a hand to her mouth.

  “And here is my newest sister!” Araelis said, gliding toward her and offering her wand. Reese fumbled for hers, gave up and touched it lightly with her fingertips. “Welcome to the peerage, sister.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Reese said.

  “You seem surprised,” Araelis said, grinning. “Don’t tell me the Queen dropped this on you without warning?”

  “It’s more like... maybe I didn’t understand the implications of what I was agreeing to,” Reese said, rueful.

  “Most of life is like that, I’ve found. And I’ve lived a long time.” Araelis motioned with her wand. “Go on, cousin. My new kin-sister and I should speak about being a seal-holder for the Queen.”

  “I remind you I was a seal-holder before you,” Hirianthial said.

  “Yes, but you’re a man, and while you’re around I must constrain myself to polite speech,” Araelis said. “You can have her back when I’m done. Look, Liolesa is lonely. Go be a former White Sword for her.”

  “Araelis—”

  Araelis lifted her brows.

  Hirianthial sighed and touched his palm to his chest, bowing to Reese. “Lad
y. Don’t hesitate to seek me if you require me.”

  “Sure,” Reese said, bewildered. “Of course.”

  And then he was gone... to the Queen’s side, she noticed, where he seemed to fit as if socketed into the space at her right and slightly behind. They bent together to talk, and she noticed for the first time how close they allowed themselves to stand, even in public. She frowned and turned to Araelis. “What was that about?”

  “Which part?” Araelis asked. She followed Reese’s glance and said, “Ah. I had told you they were cousins?”

  “Yes, but all of you seem related,” Reese said, irritated. “I knew they were close, but... ‘lonely’? Really? The Queen doesn’t strike me as the type.”

  “Of course not,” Araelis said, dismissive. “But they suit one another well. It would neatly solve a very many problems if they were to wed, not the least of which is the lack of an heir.”

  “I thought there was an heir?” Reese said. “At least, Felith mentioned serving one?”

  “And you observe that Felith is now serving you,” Araelis replied. “That would be because the current heir has been ruined by the Chatcaava. Her spirit is broken. She is too nervous now to sit a throne.”

  Reese stared at her, aghast. “You’re telling me that she ended up in the empire?”

  “As a slave, and nearly died of it,” Araelis said, sober now. “She is at a convent, being guarded by the Chancellor—you have not met him yet, but you will—and there she will likely remain for the balance of her life.” The woman looked toward the two. “They’re of an age and have a long history together. He’s guarded her life for several centuries as her White Sword captain. They’re even fond of one another, and that is not something anyone can guarantee in a marriage. Traditionally we do not permit the wedding of cousins, but the Alliance can solve any genetic errors that might afflict the child they conceive.” She sighed. “I have put the matter to them both, and of course it hasn’t mattered until now because Hirianthial had no plans to come home. But now that he has...”

  They did look good together. She forced herself to look away. “So. You said you might have advice for a new land-holder? Why don’t you lay it on me?”

  “Ah, I’d be delighted. Come, let’s find something to drink. You’ll have wine?”

  “I will now,” Reese said.

  “You gave her Corel’s demesne,” Hirianthial murmured.

  “I thought it an appropriate deed for the woman who brought me the first mind-mage since Corel,” Liolesa replied, her voice so low he almost missed it.

  He eyed her. The flow of the crowd had carried them to a far corner where they were not likely to be overheard—though watched, always that. By habit he kept his expression schooled and she was a master of it when it suited her, and it did now.

  “Do you disagree?” she said.

  Did he? Reese’s shock had been as intense as a lightning strike, so much so that he could still feel the waves of it off her though the hall divided them. And beneath the shock, something so painful he’d almost failed to recognize it for the joy she had not allowed herself to experience yet. Later, he knew, when it was real to her, when she beheld the ruins of Rose Point and grasped that it was hers to keep, the joy would surface, and with it excitement. For so long, she’d done everything possible with what little she had. To finally be freed of the constraints that had bound her so long? To have all that she’d never dared allowed herself to believe she might? The hard work of restoring it wouldn’t frighten her; it would simply make it more hers when it was clean and bright again.

  “No,” he said. “I know she will do everything you expect of her. But cousin... the hatred and the outrage here, now, in this hall is overwhelming. And yet they have said nothing.”

  “I know,” Liolesa said, quiet. “I was expecting someone to object long before I gave her the grant. Once I had...”

  “They are waiting for something,” Hirianthial said.

  “Yes.” Her eyes lost their focus briefly. “And it’s so close. But it hasn’t come together yet.” She looked up at him, sharply. “What?”

  “Asaniefa no doubt knew about Captain Eddings, thanks to Thaniet,” Hirianthial said. “My brother, I learned this morning... knows about me.”

  “That you’re here?” She frowned. “No. He has found out why? How?”

  “From Urise,” Hirianthial said. “But neither of us knows what he will do with the knowledge.”

  Liolesa snorted. “Then you’re a fool, cousin. He seeks your downfall. What else?”

  “That is the question, isn’t it? What else?” Hirianthial frowned, watching the crowd mingle, so different from an Alliance gathering with everyone standing so far apart. “I can’t believe he would be motivated solely by revenge. It was not revenge alone that drove him to engineer our parents’ death.”

  “He enjoyed seeing them die, is what you suggest.”

  “I think he enjoyed watching himself arrange for their deaths, and seeing it come to fruition just as he planned,” Hirianthial said, feeling the words as he spoke them, tasting them for truth. They were bitter, but right.

  “No doubt he is fast at work on it now, then,” Liolesa said. “Have you told your Captain Eddings?”

  “I fear Araelis has told her everything.” He grimaced at the flash of a grin she allowed herself before the mask slipped back in place. “Yes, I know. But I suppose in this case it has been useful, Araelis and her feeling that she should be in everyone’s business. She saved me the trouble of explaining a great deal.”

  “You should tell her—Theresa, that is—that Baniel knows your purpose, though,” Liolesa said. “Your brother is many things, but stupid is not one of them. He’ll assume you arrived with her, and that will make him... curious.”

  The thought made his skin run cold beneath the layers of silk and velvet. “I will find her directly.”

  “Good,” Liolesa said. “And keep your step light. I feel the skein tightening.”

  “Always,” he said. “God and Lady willing, though, we will be quit of this mess soon enough.”

  “And you can go show the Lady her new home, ah?”

  Her tone had been casual, but that in itself spoke eloquently of her feelings on the matter. “If you are intimating something, cousin—”

  “All I am intimating,” she said, “is that you might enjoy being the one to witness her happiness when she sees it for the first time. After all the adventures the two of you have survived together, I thought you were owed that moment.”

  He could let it pass, so he did. “It would be a fine thing to see.”

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it,” she said. “I would love to be there myself, but I am hoping you’ll be leaving for it long before I am free of this winter court.”

  “We shall see,” he said, and went in search of Captain Eddings—now Lady Eddings in truth.

  Araelis was exhausting. It wasn’t that Reese didn’t appreciate the mountain of advice, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her own head exploding. She was painfully aware of the looks she was receiving from far too many of the people around her, and while Eldritch stood a lot farther away from one another than normal people, there was no mistaking she was being avoided. Araelis introduced her to the few people who didn’t seem to hate her, but their solicitous welcomes only made the seething outrage around her more obvious.

  She didn’t care that they hated her. Ma Eddings could have given every person in this room lessons in cutting looks. What bothered her was that she couldn’t imagine their hatred not having repercussions, and she very much didn’t want anything to disturb the fragile sense of hope she was struggling to protect. To lose what she’d been given before she could even believe she’d been given it...!

  What she wanted most was her crew and Hirianthial and a private room where she could hyperventilate in peace, and maybe cry on a furry shoulder the way the tremor in her shoulders suggested she really wanted to. Barring that, she’d take Hirianthial right
now, to keep her company among all these strangers. Knowing him he could feel her distress—couldn’t he? He always had before—and was probably coming for her soon. She disengaged from Araelis and all her supporters and tried to find a quiet corner where she could sit on a cushioned bench and wait. There had to be one in a hall this size. She started walking, trying to stay out of the way of people who wanted an excuse to glare at her.

  The wall she’d been heading for was not a wall at all, she discovered, but a curtain. She paused at it, wondering just how big the bleeding place was, when she heard him.

  “Here, Lady.”

  Her relief was so vast she almost didn’t feel the eagerness beneath it, running fast as a current. To keep from looking at that too closely, she stepped through the curtain. “Finally! I didn’t know how long it would take to find you in this place. I had no idea how big it was.” She paused at the view, wide-eyed. “Oh.”

  He didn’t say anything; that was like him, to efface himself when there was something worth seeing. And the curtains had parted on an extension of the hall, a gallery partially built out over the still gray lake, and on its banks a powdering of snow that led to a wood out of a fairy tale, dark and knotted with shadows. Reese stepped to the balcony. “Oh... it’s so beautiful. Is it okay to say that?”

  When he didn’t answer, she turned and froze at the sight. “You’re not Hirianthial.”

  “No,” the man said, and now that she was paying attention his voice was not an exact match, his baritone a little thinner in timbre. As he stepped into the light, she found that described the rest of him as well: very like Hirianthial, but just a little thinner, sharper, unfinished. He was also standing a lot closer to her than an Eldritch should. “No, that I most certainly am not. And it appears he hasn’t told you about me.”

  “No,” Reese said. “So maybe you could start with your name.”

  “I am Baniel, once Sarel Jisiensire,” the man said with a smile, leaning down close enough so she could see the one thing about him that was very different: his eyes. His eyes were green as poison, and cold. “And that is all you need know of me, save this.” His hands seized her waist and heaved her over the balcony, and the only thing that stopped her from screaming was that he came with her. The ground hit her far too hard and she scrabbled to rise first and failed; he had one hand on her mouth and the other holding her hands behind her. She tried to stamp on his foot and didn’t connect; tried squirming and that didn’t trouble him. The twins would have bitten him, so she tried that, but he just shook her by the head until the world spun.