“The Scere is the number one force standing in the way of Human extinction. Remember,” he lifted his hand to forestall Scythe’s interruption, “what I said about experience, son, and about your education? You don’t have all the pieces, so you can’t put the puzzle together...”
“Then, please, can you help me? Can you tell me what I need to know?”
The governor sighed, “Surely, I can, but then, you’ll know.” He looked firmly at Scythe, willing him to understand.
Scythe heard his own voice, echoing from the recent past, ...once you know certain things, you can’t go back...to not knowing.
Scythe hesitated, “My Lord, they...want me, to work for them. The Scere. I’ve refused, but...”
Talto’s surprised expression quickly moved to one more thoughtful, and then calculating. “I wasn’t made aware of that detail. As a full Blade, your allegiance is to Poinsea. The idea was to give you a place here with that, but it seems to have been a wasted gesture after all. The Scere is the Kin, as true as The Blood of the King. The Scere is one of his ruling councils. There is no defying them, but you may be able to find your way around them, or through them, if you are wily.”
“I won’t...they hurt my friends,” he took a deep breath, calming his body and blowing away the remembered scent of Mercy’s tears. “I wanted...to make them pay...”
The governor spoke sharply, “Make the Scere pay? Impossible. Did you hear what I said? They are The Blood. You will only make yourself a criminal. If you outlaw yourself, there will be no harbor for you, not in any Kin city. The Blades will shun you and the Red Guard will be forced to hunt you. Even if you manage to elude them, extremely unlikely as long as you look like that, you will still have lost it all: your brothers, your adopted Human family and the halfblood children you visit five times a week. Are you ready to give up everything, for revenge?”
Scythe stared, his whole body tense. The elder man nodded understandingly, “You need to think, son.”
He turned to his computer, powering it on, and gave his attention to the envelope in front of him. “Can you assist me with this?” he asked, smiling.
Scythe grinned and slipped him a knife from a concealed sheath on his back, one missed by the guards in their brief search. A Red Guard slid forward, instantly at the desk, but still too late to have protected the man if Scythe had wanted to hurt him.
“Thank you for that. It is good to keep them jumping. This reminds me of your younger days.” The governor laughed hard at his own joke, dragging the sharp blade through the neck of the envelope before handing it back to Scythe. “You might consider the value of what you have now, and weigh it against what you think you’ll be able to accomplish. That is my advice. Now stop wasting my time and get back to work.”
Scythe let himself out, nodding to the receptionist and walking past the woman who sat patiently waiting for her turn to see the governor. At the end of the corridor he hesitated, looking left. Then he turned right and headed back to his room.
Chapter 33
“You’re alive,” Rend said from the door. “I thought for sure you’d be dead, since you’re never late.”
“I had an interview with the governor,” Scythe said from the table where he sat, pushing the papers he was reading together into a pile and laying the envelope they had come in on top of them. Half of the Seal of Poinsea could be seen on the flap.
Rend nodded, “At eight. It’s one.” He sat down and leaned back in the chair across from Scythe. “What’s going on?”
Scythe tapped his fingers a few times on the wood. “I…” How could he explain it? “I don’t know.”
Rend nodded again. After a quiet moment, he said, “Keyrin told me about the Humans.”
“Did he tell you about the children?”
“That’s what I mean.”
“No, the ones from the hospital, the halfbloods.”
Rend frowned, “He told me a little, how they were going to study…”
“Experiment on, and use them...just like the Humans, Rend.”
“No. I don’t think so…” He shook his head.
“Well, you’re wrong.” Scythe said with conviction; his fingers had curled into a fist on the table.
“Look, I’m not letting anything…”
“Really? I don’t think you’ll have a say. Do you?”
“Of course I will. Listen, Scythe...”
“No.” Both of them were surprised at Scythe’s unusually rude behavior, but Scythe recovered first. “I can’t do it, Rend. I can’t be one of his soldiers. I won’t follow even one of his orders.”
Scythe waited while Rend studied him. Finally, his friend said, “So.”
Scythe nodded. “That’s right.”
Rend shifted in his seat. “What are you going to do?”
Scythe shrugged, his eyes falling to the table, and the pile in front of him.
“Well, I’m disappointed.” Rend said, with only a fraction of his usual playfulness, “I was hoping to make a lot more money off you.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to get yourself another shell game.”
Rend nodded. “It’s a shame though. You really are good.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry, too, Rend. I am. I…” He let his friend see some of the conflict in him, “I really liked wearing that uniform.”
“Yeah. I know you did. You hear about Smoke?”
“No. What?”
“He and his family met with the Scere this morning. They settled on terms, and I think he’s satisfied.”
“His family did?” Scythe knew that Smoke’s family was opposed to his relationship with Lena, and that there had been several explosive and harmful arguments between him and his parents.
“Yeah. First time in the same room without a near-fatality. I guess they found some common ground, or maybe Smoke’s parents just weren’t ready to break from him. In any case, they were able to get some safeguards for the Youngs and, of course, a tidy sum in compensation for ‘damages.’”
“I’m sure that pleased him,” Scythe commented and then added brusquely, “Do you understand that it was Keyrin who approved Lena’s experiments?”
They turned when a messenger paused at Scythe’s open door. “Yes?” Scythe asked.
“A summons, if you please.” The man stepped inside and handed Scythe an envelope with his name on it. “I am to wait to escort you.”
Scythe opened the letter and read it, his eyes widening. “It’s a...I’m supposed to meet with this woman...is that the King’s seal?” He held the paper out to Rend.
“No, but it’s similar to it. Looks like a council member. You better get ready.”
“It will only take me a minute to change,” Scythe told the messenger. “Can you wait outside?”
The man nodded and stepped into the hall.
Scythe got up, went into his bedroom and took out the uniform he used when he worked as a moderator for the Kin. He started to put it on, commenting, “It was him, Rend.”
“It was the Scere…”
“No, Rend. It was Keyrin. The Scere was hardly involved.” He wondered how far Rend would go to protect his love for his cousin.
“Well, according to him, the Scere took responsibility and made all reparations. As for Keyrin, you don’t know him, Scythe. He’s doing what he has to in order to safeguard all of us.”
Scythe sighed. His friend was willing to go all the way.
Scythe didn’t have anything else to say. If his friend could be persuaded to hand over his own adopted son, then there was no point in continuing. He finished fastening the front panel of the garment, picked up his dress shoes and rejoined Rend in the outer room. He sat on the chair and slipped the shoes on. “Do you think I’ll be allowed to stay here until I can find another place?”
“I don’t know, but don’t worry. We’re not going to leave you hanging, brother. We’ll find you a place.”
“Thanks, Rend. You and Smoke are almost like brothers to me, from long ago.” He used
the Kin term for real brothers, Kiryoku, as a show of how serious he was.
Rend bowed and then hugged him, “We feel the same, you know that. We’ll catch you tonight, for cards, okay?”
“That sounds good, unless I’m out hunting for a…” He almost said home. “…place to stay.”
“We’ll hunt together, then.”
Scythe nodded, collected the papers on the desk, and left with the messenger, asking, “Do you mind if we make a stop first?”
The messenger hesitated.
“It will only take a minute,” he assured him.
“Where do you need to go?”
“The infirmary.” As he walked, he returned the documents to the envelope and used the pen he had pocketed to write a short note on the outside.
Mistress Flame,
This is an option, if things begin to look bad. We can discuss it, if you are interested.
Your servant,
Scythe
Scythe didn’t know how the women and their families felt about having their children be part of Keyrin’s plans for Poinsea, and, after talking to Rend, he had decided to take his own advice and keep it that way. The hard truth was that it wasn’t his decision to make; he couldn’t do anything about it, even if he wanted to. What he could do was pass along the information that Governor Talto had sent to him an hour after their meeting.
Inside was a map, a letter of instructions, a letter of introduction, and another note:
Scythe,
My mother’s family gifted her and my father with an estate, a vineyard and small winery for their wedding. We have no current need of it, nor do I foresee my son wanting to utilize it, so I offer it to you, in the hopes that it might serve your purpose. It is in a secluded region of the Western Coast province, which provides a certain amount privacy. You might want to avail yourself of it someday.
No one but myself will know of it, if you do.
Governor Talto of Poinsea
Chapter 34
The short woman seated across the room surveyed Scythe and then gestured for him to join her. Scythe, still unsure about the reason for his summons to the highly decorated, sparsely populated guest wing of the ninth level of the palace, crossed the floor obediently. The suite, significant for its size and ornate furnishings, was easily twice as luxurious as the governor’s office. Plush curtains rose some fifteen feet to frame a stained glass window glowing with the afternoon sun, the shards of colored light spreading across the engraved floor and dancing up walls covered with hand painted murals. Several small sitting areas lined the room with comfortable chairs and tiny tables to promote companionable conversation.
Scythe hesitated only slightly before bowing politely and then sitting at the chair across from her. He wasn’t given any information about the meeting from the messenger, and he had been nervously trying to determine what it could be about.
However, his discomfort came from more than just curiosity about the summons. He wasn’t supposed to wear any weapons, but experience had made him feel an instinctive need to carry them, so he had still worn a few knives and a couple of other handy tools. Most of them had been confiscated by the strict guards at the door. The two that remained were not as easy to get to as his favorites, and that made him feel vulnerable.
“You are Scythe, son of Scythe. I am Soshia, a council member appointed by our King.”
It took a few seconds for him to remember to breathe, and then to remember his manners. He bowed his head, “My Lady.”
“I apologize for this abrupt summons,” she said sincerely.
“It is my duty and pleasure to serve the Kin,” Scythe replied perfunctorily.
“Is it?” she asked curiously, having expected his reply.
Scythe met her gaze for a moment and stayed silent, guessing that the only way to escape that particular trap was to avoid it.
She smiled when it became obvious that he wouldn’t reply, sat up, poured, and offered him a cup from the small tray in front of her. “I only ask because you have recently involved yourself in some activities which, to the outside observer, might be construed as, well, treasonous.”
Scythe’s hand froze in the space between them, still reaching for the tea. “Treasonous?” he repeated softly. He slowly pulled his hand away from the cup and brought it unconsciously to his chest.
She set the tea down in front of him smoothly and poured for herself.
“Most certainly. You have killed five Human representatives of the King’s appointed council and one of your own Kin; also, you have killed, or been involved in the killing of eleven guards assigned to protect that officer.” She smiled at his dissolving composure. “That is right. Let me assure you that, although you have managed to cover up your tracks in Menelaus, the hurt to Our King is not undone.”
“I did not know, not for an instant, that I acted against the...King.” Scythe stumbled slightly over the word. His mind reeled...A traitor to the King? His father had been a mindful servant of the King and of all the Kin. Scythe felt the blood run out of his face; the idea of dishonoring his father in that way appalled him. “I thought every one was an enemy to the Humans, and to the Human-Kin coalition. I did not believe that I...” By clamping his mouth shut, he managed to stop himself from babbling further.
“Nevertheless,” she dismissed his excuses, “the facts remain.” She took a slow, deliberate drink from her cup.
In the brief silence that followed, Scythe pulled the strings of his wits together. “What council are you appointed to?” he asked, finally noting the gap in protocol, as well as in information.
She smiled, “Ah, now you’re thinking. I have read everything we have on you, and it is a significant amount. I expected you to be quicker. Although, I did catch you unaware today, didn’t I?” She waited, her eyes sparkling.
Scythe swallowed, bringing his mind into focus, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Ah, so I didn't. The Scere. In old Kin, it means...”
“The Servant, but it refers to the particular servant assigned to watching the Lord’s favored pets, usually dogs or horses, or another hunting animal.”
“Yes,” she said, unfazed by his rude interruption, “and it can also refer to the thick leather thong that was worn by that retainer at the waist and was used to discipline the animals. In any case, it is not one of the official councils. It is also called the Shrouded Caucus, as it works behind a thin veil. This is because the Humans are beneath the notice of the majority of the Kin and decidedly beneath the notice of the King. They exist at the King’s pleasure, so long as it is convenient to him to permit it. This precedence was established at the end of the last Great Human Rebellion three hundred and fifty years ago.
“Yes, they call it the War for Independence.”
She smiled tolerantly, “Well, they can call it what they want, it doesn’t change the fact that they rose up against our Kin forefathers and were severely defeated. The skirmishes and revolts that followed have only served to cement the Kin’s distrust and loathing of Humans. At the end of the war, the King deferred oversight of the Humans to the Scere, removing the current chancellor and appointing his head kennel master, an extremely brutal man if records are accurate, to the position. It was made clear at that time, and tradition has held it to be true, ‘that the dealings with animals must be made out of the King’s sight, as it offends his sensibilities.’”
“Animals?” Scythe asked, appalled.
“Absolutely.”
“Humans are not in any way animals.”
“What you believe is immaterial. What matters is what the King believes, or rather, what the official position of the King is regarding Humans. As it stands, they are classified as little above animals and have the rights of such.”
“Is there a difference between our King’s belief and his position?” Scythe asked, scenting a trail.
“That is immaterial to this discussion,” she replied.
Scythe made a note of the distinction and asked abou
t another slip of information that had nearly blown out of reach. It was tiny, but it tugged at him, “You said that the King appointed a new chancellor to the Scere.”
She only nodded, but he didn’t miss the tiny muscle that jerked minutely above her eye.
“That means the Scere was already in place before they were given the task to...oversee the Human race.”
She didn’t answer, beyond a strange, slow blink. Something subtle in her expression had altered, and she seemed to be considering something.
When she didn’t respond, he pressed, “So, how long has the Scere been around and what did it do before that?”
Again, she did not answer immediately. When it was clear that he would wait, she finally said, “The Scere, in lesser and greater forms, have been in existence for at least a thousand years. However,” she raised her hand delicately to forestall any comment, “you are not in a position to know what other secrets the Scere guards. It is enough for you to know that Humans are not our only concern.”
She watched him think about what she had said, tilting her head curiously. He laid out all that he knew about the Scere in front of himself, and, in reviewing it, realized it was not enough to even make a guess about what other things the Scere involved themselves with. Something that would make the council a natural choice for the guardianship of Humanity...
Finally, she said, closing the discussion, “I will not speak more on the subject, and I recommend you do not pursue it on your own. It would be unhealthy. Returning to the matter at hand, the management of Humans requires a deft hand and the tight control of information.”
Halfblood Heritage Page 45