The Last Hawk

by Catherine Asaro

  Their trek through the ruins took them down crumbling stairs and along collapsed halls, most of it barely visible in her lamp's lonely radiance. Finally they came to a room that had been restored, with oil lamps glowing in readiness for their visit. Cleaned tapestries hung on the walls and a canopied bed made with silk and velvet stood on a dais at one end. The rosewood Quis table in the center of the room had a candle on it and a decanter of rosewine with two crystal goblets.

  "It's not so bad, is it?" Savina said.

  "It's beautiful." The restoration astounded Kelnic, revealing an unexpected side of the Miesa Manager. The work must have taken her many tendays of painstaking labor. He ran his hand over the carved rosewood flowers on the edge of a chair. "I'm surprised no one has taken this furniture away. It's gorgeous."

  "Nobody comes up here. I doubt even Manager Tehnsamknows about it."

  "How do you?"

  "I used to take a rider and go exploring when I was young." She indicated a stack of logs by the fireplace. "There's a flint in the little bureau by the bed and supplies for you in the cupboards." .

  "You're leaving?" It disappointed Kelric more than he wanted to admit.

  She nodded. "I left just enough fuel here for a return trip to Bahvla."

  Kelric regarded her uneasily. Without Savina, he would be stranded in the ruins with no supplies. He could easily overcome her and make her tell him where she hid the fuel, but even if he had been willing to cause her harm, which he wasn't, what good would it do? His lack of experience in a rider made his flying erratic, a problem the ripping gales of upper ranges would exacerbate. He would use up the fuel long before he reached Bahvla. At best, it would strand him in the mountains; at worst, he would crash.

  Savina had chosen this site well. He was beginning to understand what Henta had said, that the Miesa Manager was far more savvy than most people realized.

  She was watching his face. "I know how all this looks. But I really do intend right by you. Henta just wouldn't listen to civilized arguments."

  "Right by me? What do you mean?"

  "About Rashiva—"

  He stiffened. "I don't recall mentioning Rashiva."

  "I just wanted to say—I don't know why she turned away from you but I can guess. It was 'honor,' yes? Well, it doesn't matter to me if offworld ways are different. I respect your honor."

  That's a cultural minefield, Kelric thought. He didn't want to get blown up again.

  She hesitated. "Will you have a glass of wine with me before I go?"

  His face relaxed into a smile. "All right."

  "Ai. So beautiful." She sighed. "It lights up your whole face."

  "It?"

  "Your smile." She came over and put her arms around his waist. "Your beautiful smile."

  Don't do it, Kelric warned his arms. Hold her now and I'm lost. His arms ignored him and wrapped around her.

  "Ummm." She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the curling hair on his chest. "Shall I make a fire?"

  "All right."

  While she worked at the fireplace, Kelric sat down and poured the wine. "What will happen when you get back to Bahvla?"

  Savina came to the table. "Henta will threaten and rage and swear." She sat across from him. "But she won't call a Tribunal. Summoning one against an Estate Manager is too serious a matter."

  "You kidnapped me just to make her mad?"

  "No. I hope to make her understand." She hesitated. "Maybe I've been a fool. I don't even know—if you . . ."

  He smiled. "Yes. I want you to visit me."

  "Ai." She sighed. "Sevtar. God of the dawn. It fits you. I can almost believe what I heard, that you are Rhon."

  "I am."

  Her eyes widened. "You don't act it."

  "How does Rhon act?"

  "I just imagined they were—different."

  Kelric recognized her reaction. "Cruel? Arrogant?"

  "That was before I knew you." She paused. "I once heard a Skolian saying: 'Across the stars the Rhon may trod, but still the gods of Kyle are flawed.' "

  "We aren't gods. We're people."

  "Not normal people."

  He reached over and took her hand. "To be an empath—it means we absorb it all: people's hopes, fears, dreams, hates. In love it's a gift. But in so much else it's a nightmare. A barrage. We build barriers to shut it all out." For some reason an image of Zecha came into his mind. Then he thought of his half brother, the Imperator. "Some cut it off so completely that they smother part of what makes them human."

  Savina curled her fingers around his. "A barrage. I feel that way sometimes."

  "I'll bet you also have a remarkable memory for conversations."

  "How did you know? It makes Avtac crazy. She says I 'conveniently' remember whatever fits my needs."

  "Empaths remember conversations well because we recall the feelings as well as the words." He stroked her knuckle with his thumb. "I'll bet you almost always know when someone is lying."

  "I never told anyone about that."

  "But it's true isn't it?"

  "Even if it is, that still doesn't mean I hear thoughts."

  He tried to think of an example she would accept. "Why did you shoot me in the Calanya park?"

  "I really am sorry about that. But you were about to hit me over the head and steal my rider"

  "How did you know?"

  "How? You went after me."

  "You fired before I did anything."

  It was a moment before she answered. "There are times when—well, it does seem I feel what others feel. Avtac says I'm oversensitive."

  "Maybe it's Avtac who lacks sensitivity."

  "I don't want to be Rhon."

  "You aren't. You are a Kyle operator, though." Kelric took out his dice and made two parallel lines of cubes on the table. "Kyle traits come from mutated genes. Recessive genes. Unless you get them from both parents, the traits don't manifest." With a sweep of his hand, he whisked away one line. "A person can carry all the genes unpaired and never show a single trait." He removed pans of the remaining line, then put down dice to pair several cubes still on the table. "Someone like you only carries a few Kyle genes, but with pairings, so you show some Kyle ability. The Rhon-my family—carry every one of the genes paired. That's why our Kyle abilities are so strong."

  Savina picked up a cube. "It sounds like those strange ideas the scientists at Varz have about blue eyes being weaker than black."

  "They probably mean blue is recessive to black."

  "Avtac supports the research because she wants something to turn up and give her advantage over Karn." She shrugged. "But really, it's all games."

  Kelric lifted a lock of her hair. "What color hair did your parents have?"

  "Yellow."

  "What about their eyes?"

  "Gray. Both my mother and father."

  "You think it's coincidence you have yellow hair and gray eyes?"

  "Well, no." She put down the cube. "A lot of people look like their parents. But not everyone."

  "The genes are still there."

  "Not always."

  He smiled. "Always. Really."

  She started to answer, then stopped.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "I—it's about Rashiva."

  His smile vanished. "What does Rashiva have to do with it?"

  "Her baby."

  Don't ask, he thought. But the question came anyway. "How is he?" He? Why he?

  "Jimorla nearly died at birth," she said. "But he's much better now. He's a beautiful child, as dark as any Hakaborn. But he has violet eyes. That never came from Rashiva or Raaj."

  The spell of firelight Shattered around Kelric. At first he just stared at her. Then he stood up and walked to the fireplace.

  Savina came over to him. "Sevtar? What is it?"

  A spark flew up from the fire and winked out, leaving an ember to drift onto his hand. "It's late, Rashiva. Maybe you should go."

  She spoke quietly. "My name is Savina."

&
nbsp; Kelric exhaled. "I'm sorry."

  Silence stretched between them. Finally she said, "You should be safe here. This wing of the fortress is sound. It's probably wise not to leave it, though."

  "All right."

  "Well." She hesitated. "I guess I'll go." She lingered a moment longer. When he made no response she left.

  Kelric continued to watch the fire, but instead of flames, images of his boyhood flickered in his mind. He kept seeing his father, a well—built man with large eyes.

  Violet eyes.

  Violet. Like the eyes of all Lyshrioli natives.

  My son, Kelric thought. Rashiva, he is my son.

  25

  Rumrunner's Gamble

  When Henta disembarked from the rider and saw her aides waiting on the airfield, her hope surged. She hurried over, puffing from exertion. "The other search party found him?"

  "I'm afraid not," her Senior Aide said. "But guess who's in your office? Manager Miesa."

  Henta scowled. "How nice of her to visit."

  "I have guards ready to take her to jail."

  "Good." Henta headed for the Estate: She posted the octet at her office outside and then stalked into the room.

  Savina was standing by the window. "My greetings, Henta."

  "I can't believe you had the audacity to show up alone." Henta slammed the door. "Where is he?"

  "Safe."

  "Safe? With you? A false friend who abuses my trust?"

  "You wouldn't listen to civilized arguments."

  "Civilized," Henta sputtered. "I don't know where you get the gall to talk about civilized after you steal my Calani."

  "I only—"

  "No excuses. I want him back. Now."

  "Not unless you agree to let me visit him."

  "You really are crazy." Henta waved her arms at the Miesa Manager. "You want to be stripped of your name? Shunned? Sent to prison? What has blown into your head to make you act this way?"

  Savina swallowed. "A Calani blew in. I can't get him out."

  Henta wanted to shake her. "All you think about is yourself. What about him? Or maybe you don't care how he feels."

  "I love him."

  Henta snorted. "You love him. Don't make me laugh. He deserves better than your infatuation with his physical beauty."

  "It's not infatuation." She pushed her hands through her hair. "Maybe it was at first. Or maybe it was the challenge of him. But it's gone beyond that. He's in my head and I can't get him out."

  "You hardly know him."

  "Visitation. That's all I ask."

  "And what will you 'ask' after that? No. Bring him back or I'll call a Tribunal."

  "I know you won't."

  "You're wrong. You've gone too far this time." Henta opened the door and spoke to the guards. "Take Manager Miesa into custody."

  "Wait," Savina said.

  "Put her in jail," Henta told the guards.

  "Henta, stop," Savina said. "Listen to what I have to say."

  As the guards surrounded Savina, Henta held up her hand. When the captain tilted her head, Henta said, "Wait outside."

  After the octet withdrew, Henta shut the door and crossed her arms. "This better be good."

  "What do you want for Sevtar's Calanya contract?"

  Henta closed her eyes. When she opened them, Savina was still standing there with a perfectly serious expression on her face.

  "You're being irrational," Henta said.

  "That's not an answer."

  "Miesa could never afford a Fourth Level. Especially one like Sevtar."

  "Just answer the question."

  "The question is demented."

  "How much?"

  "Ten million denai, five First Level Calani, and two Second Levels."

  Savina gaped at her. "That's absurd."

  "It's very reasonable. The only ludicrous proposition here is yours." .

  "Miesa doesn't have two Second Levels."

  Henta went over to her. "Neither does Miesa have anything close to ten million denai in assets. And I hardly think seven of your Calani want to leave. You only have nine, for wind's sake. Have you forgotten four of them are Akasi? Not to mention that you only made two of them Calani because you couldn't marry them otherwise. They can't play Quis worth spit. Whatever possessed you to think Sevtar has any desire to be husband number five? Are you crazy or what?"

  "I don't want to hurt my Akasi. But you don't understand. You think I glut myself on love but you're wrong." Savina spoke awkwardly. "They aren't happy with me. Winds, Henta, they would be glad to leave Miesa, to find a woman who loves them. No matter how much I try, no matter how much they try to love me, I need something they can't give. All my life I've looked for it and I don't even know what it is." She swallowed. "Now I've found it. It's in Sevtar, in his mind somehow, in his heart."

  "I'm sorry. But it's impossible."

  "What if I gave you a trade equal to the Second Levels?"

  "You don't have anything worth two Second Levels."

  "I do." Savina took a breath. "The Wardship of the Miesa Plateau."

  In the stillness that followed the words a rush of images jumbled In Henta's mind: Bahvla victorious over mighty Karn and Varz, Bahvla alive with new vigor Bahvla flushed with the power and wealth of the Plateau.

  Then the images faded, replaced by memories of her friendship with Savina. "I can't let you cripple Miesa."

  Savina grimaced. "I'd rather you had the Plateau than Karn or Varz. Your Estate has the assets and experience to manage it, so they won't have grounds anymore to take it. And Henta—I'll have a Fourth Level who's a true genius."

  "He doesn't want to be your Akasi."

  "What if he does?"

  What then? Henta blew out a gust of air. "If Sevtar asks to go to Miesa, then—and only then—will I consider the trade."

  Kelric spent the morning wandering through the fortress, thinking about Rashiva's son. His son. He tried to stop brooding. He wished he could forget Rashiva had ever existed.

  Eventually he returned to his room and sat on the bed. He built a Quis structure of the fortress, then transferred its layers onto the quilt and studied the architecture. He became so absorbed in the patterns he barely noticed when day faded into night. This castle had stories buried in the arch of its flying buttresses, the placement of its crenellations, the sweep of its staircases. It told him about the ancient queen who ruled from this keep, an atavistic warrior who bequeathed to her descendants a ferocity that still lurked beneath the civilized facade of the Modern Age.

  "I've never seen structures like that," Savina said.

  With a start, Kelric looked up to see her in the doorway. "How long have you been there?"

  "A few minutes. You were concentrating so hard, I didn't want to disturb you"

  "Did you talk to Henta?"

  Savina walked to the bed. "My plan backfired. " She winced. "I m lucky Henta didn't throw me in jail. She said absolutely no visitation. If you aren't back in Bahvla by morning she will call a Tribunal against me."

  Her news punctured the sense of well-being he had built while playing Quis. She had breached the battlements guarding his heart and now she came to tell him it was all a mistake, that she had no way to follow through on her promises of love.

  No. He didn't care. He wouldn't be hurt again. "When do we leave?"

  "Sevtar—"

  "What?"

  "You aren't sorry it turned out this way?"

  He gathered up his dice. "I didn't ask you to drag me up here."

  "But last night—I thought—"

  "Are you going to take me back or not?"

  "You were so warm last night. Now you're like stone."

  Stone never cries, he thought. "Why did you bother with a kidnapping? Why not just buy me from Henta? That's the way it's done with Calani, isn't it?"

  She paled. "Don't say that."

  Kelric knew if he stayed any longer his painfully built defenses would collapse. Ignoring Savina, he got off the bed and strode out o
f the room, into the night-black corridor. Debris rattled at his feet.

  His only warning, as he stalked down the hall, was the groan of cracking stone—and then the floor collapsed. He hurtled downward with a shower of debris and dust, landing on a pile of rubble. He wasn't sure if a rock hit his temple or if he hit his head, but he felt blood run down his face, tasted it on his lip. He lurched to his feet and took off again, limping through the dark ruins.

  Several times he heard Savina calling his name. He evaded her voice as he would evade an enemy soldier, until the calls faded in the distance.

  It was the air, or lack of it, that finally forced him to stop. The atmosphere was too thin. In a room where wind whistled through broken walls, he sagged against a pile of rubble and slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he heaved in labored breaths.

  A furry body scuttled across his feet. Outside the castle a prowler howled.

  Sometime later more rustles came from across the room. Whatever approached loomed much larger than the previous rodent. Kelric tensed, preparing to defend himself.

  The prowler spoke. "Sevtar?" She sounded exhausted. "Are you here?"

  She had called him stone. He would be stone.

  Savina materialized out of the darkness. "Thank the winds." She knelt next to him. "I was afraid you were lost."

  Stone . . .

  "Sevtar—what you said about buying Calani—it isn't that way. It isn't."

  He swallowed.

  "Don't hate me," she said.

  "Hate you?" It was impossible.

  "I asked Henta if I could bring you to my Calanya. As my Akasi."

  "For what price?"

  "Your agreement."

  "Just my agreement?"

  She paused. "Also a settlement-between Bahvla and Miesa."

  "I'm not for sale." .

  Her eyes glistened in the starlight trickling through the mined ceiling. "I would give all of Coba for you. If it took the stars I would pull them out of the sky. Is that so wrong?"

  "To be only one of many—I can't love that way."

  "You wouldn't be one of many." A tear ran down her cheek. "To bring you to Miesa would mean giving up my other Akasi."