Hawk stared at him. Kho was clenching and unclenching his fists.
"Stop acting as if you are an inconsequential nobody." Kho ran out of breath and stopped talking.
Hawk cleared his throat. "I...clearly I was easily replaced. You have all been fine without me. Colonel Tropas—"
"Has been nothing more than adequate," Kho interrupted. "And I have lost a princess on my watch. Quit being such an idiot."
Hawk couldn't help himself. "I wouldn't have kept the princess had I been free," he said dryly. "As I hear it, she was in Ranarr when—"
Kho growled in frustration. "Stop. Talking."
Hawk stopped talking.
"Just—stay there." Kho stomped off back the way they had come. Hawk turned in place to watch him go. He couldn't remember ever seeing his friend so angry, in all the years they had known one another. He had always been able to count on Kho to be patient, even mild. What had happened to him?
He was still lost in thought when Kho came back, a bottle of tawny-colored liquid in one hand and two glasses in the other. "Sit down."
Hawk glanced around, saw a bench a few feet away, and sat.
"Drink this and just—just listen for once." Kho's voice was thick, but Hawk was beginning to grow irritated. He drank obediently, but glared at Kho over the edge. Oddly, that seemed to relax Kho just a little.
"Jacin, the point isn't whether Rivarden or the Kreyden—or even Tamnen herself—managed after your capture." He glared back at Hawk, but few people could meet Hawk's gaze for long when he let his temper show. After just a few heartbeats, Kho looked away. "So what if Tamnen managed all right? The thing is, I didn't."
He choked on the words and took a long drink. "I missed you. I missed your counsel. I missed your stupid lack of humor. I missed the way I knew you would always be at my back if I needed it, just as I—" He broke off and swore, then took another gulp of his drink.
When Kho spoke again, his voice was quiet. "I failed you. We just assumed you were dead. We didn't look for you. I abandoned you and all the other wounded on the battlefield." He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced himself to look at Hawk again. "And when we learned otherwise, we were hearing it from a damned Strid emissary. Too damn late."
Hawk opened his mouth, but Kho didn't let him speak.
"Shut up!"
Hawk shut up. Again. He clenched his jaw, smoldering.
"And now that we finally have you back," Kho continued, "you've turned into a man who won't stand up for himself, won't meet people's eyes. You forget what language you're supposed to be speaking. You defer to everyone. You act as if you don't deserve the mourning our nation did for you." He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "And it's all my fault for leaving you. I should be the one who can't hold my head up."
Hawk bolted his drink and set the glass carefully on the stone bench. He stood up. "Do you know," he said quietly, "how arrogant you sound right now? The Emran Kho I once knew and loved would have laughed in your face if he could hear you."
Kho lifted his chin, staring at Hawk.
"If you had looked for me on the battlefield instead of sealing the breach in the walls, we would have lost Rivarden." Hawk fought down the urge to pace. "We would have lost Rivarden, and with her, the war. And if I had survived the battle only to lose the war, I would rather have been dead." He straightened his shoulders and made himself speak coldly. "For you to act as if you were single-handedly responsible for my captivity is the baldest arrogance I can think of. And for you to tell me that I am too humble—" He laughed. "My old friend, there isn't room for us both to be as arrogant as you."
There was a long silence as Kho stared at Hawk and Hawk gazed levelly back. Again, Kho looked away first. Hawk walked back to his bench and poured himself another glass of whiskey. He leaned against the portico railing. He took three long sips before Kho finally spoke.
"That is unfair."
Hawk arched an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps," he said. It was true that the Desert Hawk had been a rallying point, and perhaps his captivity had been a harder blow to Tamnese morale than he had realized. But it was equally true that Emran Kho was the last person he had expected to encourage him to be arrogant. "Somewhat."
Kho let out a grudging laugh and finished his own drink. "Just—stop acting as if Arisanat Burojan has the right to treat you like a traitor. You are better than that." He paused. "You're better than him."
Hawk shrugged, feeling a wash of sadness at the memory of Venra Burojan. "He lost his brother."
Kho looked away. "So did I. For six long years."
Hawk looked down into his whiskey glass. "I came back," he offered.
Kho made a choking noise and lunged at him. Alarmed, Hawk tensed, then realized his friend was hugging him. Sleeping gods, had it been so long since anyone touched him in affection that he'd forgotten what it was like? After a long moment, Hawk wrapped his free arm around Kho and awkwardly hugged him back. Kho pulled back and laughed, slapping a hand against Hawk's shoulder.
Hawk gripped Kho's forearm until Kho met his gaze. The happiness in Kho's dark eyes made Hawk's throat tighten. Perhaps their friendship would survive, after all.
"And quit with this sickening deference to Arisanat," Kho said, pulling away and going back to his drink. "He may be first lord, but he's a turd. It isn't your fault Venra died. He owes you respect."
Hawk scratched his jaw. "For his brother's sake I would be a friend to him, if he let me."
Kho looked hard at him. "He's not Venra, Jacin. Nothing like."
Hawk sighed and looked away. He felt lighter, despite the argument. He took a deep breath and looked back at Kho. "Is there any more of this whiskey?"
***
Rivarden had changed.
Hawk supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Not only had it been six years since he'd seen it, but the city's stone defenses had had a gaping hole in them the last time he saw her, her lifeblood of soldiers pouring out of what he had feared would be Rivarden's death wound.
Since Hawk's party approached from the southeast and the breach had been on the southwest side, he didn't expect to see evidence of the repairs made to the wall; he saw something else he hadn't expected, too—a redesigned gate flanked by ominous towers. Archers were clearly visible at the tops of each tower, while a full complement of pike guards stood at attention at the base.
"I thought Salishok was the Embattled City," he remarked under his breath to Kho.
"Rivarden is still the Desert Jewel," his friend assured him. "But her masters have decided a bit more security is in order to keep the Jewel safe. This is one of only two gates into the city now. The other gates were sealed after the Push."
Hawk squinted at the walls. Rivarden had once boasted a dozen gates into the city, each named after a precious stone mined in the nearby foothills, the gates decorated with glass mosaics in the colors of said stone. The gate they were now approaching had been decorated the color of rubies and called the Gates of Fire. Now it was simple, gray-brown stone.
"I suppose the reservoir has been enclosed, too," Hawk said.
"Not yet. There was talk of it, but the citizens protested. Apparently the majority would rather take the chance that their water supply be poisoned than lose their oasis." Kho smiled. "I can't say that I blame them. Sky Lake is beautiful even after years of living near the sea."
"It's a different sort of beauty," Hawk said. "The beauty of undisturbed peace."
"As opposed to the ceaseless tides?" Kho nodded.
"Water is water," snapped Arisanat, who had ridden up beside them. "Why are we stopped here? We should get inside before they close the gates."
"The main gate of Rivarden never closes, save in utmost extremity," Hawk protested, but even as he said it, he saw Kho shaking his head.
"It does now, old friend. You have to remember, they lost a great deal in the Push. You, for one. Not to mention the countless lives of their promising young men and women. There was looting and pillaging before the last defenders of Rivarden manage
d to force the Strid back out through the breach." Kho looked down. "There were a lot of babes born, nine months later, with a Strid cast to their features, as well." He sighed. "Rivarden did not fare well after you left her."
"I had little enough choice in the matter," Hawk protested.
Kho shook his head again.
"I suppose you think that excuses you for your failure as a commander," Arisanat said. "But you may not find the citizens of Rivarden very forgiving."
Hawk swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. "That may be so, but I swore I would return, and so I have done," he said. He nudged his horse into a walk.
Hawk wondered if he had offended Arisanat, but he couldn't make himself care. After he and Emran cleared the air a few nights ago, Hawk had given long consideration to Emran's concerns. His best friend had never cared for politics, but he could see through them clearly enough. Hawk had come to agree with Emran. Lord Arisanat's hatred was not hurtful to Hawk alone; in his blind hatred, Arisanat could influence the prince to work against peace.
The guards at the gate had seen their party approaching. The main group came to attention as one of their number went inside the stone guardhouse. Hawk didn't alter his horse's slow trot, but he did shake back his robes so the guards could see that, though he was armed, he was approaching in peace, without hiding his weapons. He glanced over at Emran to see that his friend had already done the same and was gesturing for the others to do likewise.
"Halt there!" called a voice. The watch captain had come out of the guardhouse and was at the head of a mounted group. His sword was still sheathed, but the others of the group each carried a spear held at half-ready.
Hawk obeyed without protest and waited until the others had done the same before lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am Jacin Hawk, former Commander of Rivarden," he said. "I am come to Rivarden to fulfill an oath that I would return. With me is Prince Razem Corrone, heir to the throne, Lord Arisanat Burojan of the First Family, and Lord-General Emran Kho of the Tamnese Army."
There was silence for several heartbeats as the watch captain conferred with the person on his left. Razem waited serenely, seemingly content for Hawk to handle the protocol. Hawk could feel Burojan's impatience, probably with the delay as much as with Hawk's presumption of speaking first. At Hawk's elbow, Emran was still and watchful. Hawk didn't look over his shoulder for confirmation, but he heard no movement from the column of soldiers behind him.
"We should have sent a messenger ahead," Hawk muttered. "Stupid of me not to think of it."
"What's done is done," Kho said. "I might have thought of it myself."
"Come forward," called the watch captain. He nudged his horse into motion as Hawk did. The person at the captain's left moved with him. When Hawk, Emran, and Burojan met up with them, Hawk saw the watch captain was actually a woman.
"I have heard of Commander Jacin Hawk," she said. Her voice was deeper than most women's, so Hawk forgave himself the mistake. "But Lieutenant Laran says he has met Lord-General Kho."
Hawk studied the man at her left—Lieutenant Laran, apparently. He was between twenty-five and thirty years of age, Hawk judged, and stringy, with short, sand-colored hair and a scraggly mustache that would never get any thicker. But his brown eyes went straight to Emran's face as he saluted, and there was respect in his gaze.
"Lieutenant Laran, yes," Emran said. "We met in Salishok...two years ago, was it?"
"Yessir, I'm honored you remember, sir."
Dear gods, Laran was keen. Hawk couldn't remember if he had ever been that young. Then again, Hawk hadn't set out to be a good soldier. He'd just been good at killing.
"I look forward to hearing what you've been doing since then, Lieutenant," Emran said. He sounded like he meant it, too. Hawk had always admired Emran's knack of being genuinely interested in people.
"Perhaps you'll allow me the honor of standing you a drink at the King's Man, sir." Laran's mustache hairs seemed to quiver with excitement at the notion.
"It would be my pleasure," Emran said. He shot Hawk a glance that said he knew exactly how amused Hawk was and didn't approve.
Hawk swallowed the smile that was fighting towards his lips. Gods, how he had missed Emran. It had been a joy to fight alongside someone who knew you so well he could anticipate your thoughts and actions. Returning to Tamnen only to have that friendship withheld had been harder than he'd expected. Perhaps their conversation at Arkad's estate had truly repaired it.
"Commander Hawk would be most welcome to join us, of course, sir."
Emran grinned. "I'm sure Commander Hawk will be most delighted, Laran. Thank you."
Burojan huffed out a loud breath. "Enough of this! The sun sinks lower in the sky and I, for one, have had a long day in the saddle. Let us to the city, where we may yet get a decent night's rest."
"Peace, Aris," Razem said. "It is well that old friends should greet one another."
The watch captain saluted the prince gravely. "You are most welcome, of course, my lord prince."
Razem opened his mouth, but Burojan bulled forward. "Who is there in Rivarden that may greet Prince Razem properly?"
She lifted her chin. "I am Watch Captain Reva Harnen, my lord, and I greet you and welcome you to Rivarden. I am certain that Governor Tarkor would greet you himself, had he known the hour of your arrival. As it is, I hope you will allow me the honor of accompanying you to the Governor's Mansion."
"Governor Tarkor will be expected to receive the prince with all honor," Burojan told her. "Our orders, from the king himself, are that the commander's freedom is to be celebrated."
"Peace, Aris," Razem said again, his voice sharper than before. "Rivarden has lived without Commander Hawk for six years. She cannot be expected to stop what she is doing to celebrate our arrival."
Hawk smiled at the prince. "For my part, I am filled with joy merely to be back in my home city."
The watch captain spared a warm glance for Hawk, but bowed to Prince Razem. "Rivarden stands ready."
Burojan gestured for her to lead the way into the city. As soon as she turned, he shot a venomous look at Hawk. "Do not interrupt, Commander Hawk. It will not be tolerated."
Hawk met his gaze and said nothing. He was through with being bullied and intimidated by this man. Emran fell in next to Hawk as they started into the city.
"I told you to stop being so meek," he breathed, "not to deliberately provoke him."
Hawk's smile felt tight. "Lord Arisanat is going to make my life difficult no matter what I do. I might as well have it on my terms as on his." When Emran glowered at him, Hawk said, "He hates me for coming back when Venra did not. No one grieves for Venra more than I, but the lord will not see that. I fear the only way I could redeem myself in his eyes would be to die for my country as Venra did."
"What is the sense in that?" Emran muttered. "Venra was a great loss, there can be no question. But losing you would be a loss just as great." He shook his head and looked away. "It was a loss just as great."
"But I returned," Hawk pointed out, despite the warmth that filled him at Emran's words, "and Venra never will, no matter how many dukes we give back to the Strid. And that is not my fault, but I can understand why he blames me."
"You are more forgiving than I would be in your place," Emran said.
Hawk snorted. "Nay, I know better than that. You are skilled in the art of war, but you are equally skilled in the art of diplomacy." His smile faded as they rode between the looming gate towers. "Emran, what you would style my forgiving nature is born more of my own guilt that I survived. I almost didn't recognize my city gate. What other changes have been wrought in the time I spent in captivity?"
Emran frowned. "Would that I could make it easier on you."
Hawk shrugged. "'Would would bring back the dead,'" he quoted. "But it is enough to be free and in Rivarden again." And to have you speaking to me once again as a friend, he added silently.
Once they were inside the gates, the bustle of
the city surrounded them. The area surrounding the gates was devoted to meeting the needs of travelers arriving in Rivarden. Inns, shops selling general goods and trade goods, brewers, public houses, and provisioners filled the buildings nearest the gate. As the only city of its size in this part of the Kreyden District, Rivarden did brisk trade. Hawk closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drinking in the fragrance of hot flat bread, spiced nuts, mulled wine, and roasting meat.
Sweet slumbering gods, how I have missed this city, he thought. It was so good to be home.
They followed a winding path to the Governor's Mansion, the wide road curving through trade districts and rarely-visited temples to reach the top of the low hill that gave the mansion its view of the Desert Jewel. When Hawk had lived in the city, his quarters had been in the building behind the mansion, where he had equal access to the barracks on one side and the governmental center on the other.
By the time they arrived, Governor Tarkor was waiting for them. He stood on the broad porch, dressed in robes of cream trimmed in scarlet, a wide smile on his face. Hawk didn't know Tarkor. He had replaced the governor who had died in the Push along with so many of the city's defenders. Hawk had no idea what to expect from the man.
"Welcome, welcome!" cried Tarkor. "Prince Razem! I am honored by your visit, as is the city of Rivarden. Lord Burojan, you are most welcome! And Lord-General Kho, it is good to see you again. Commander Hawk, welcome home. I am so pleased to greet you all and welcome you to Rivarden, the Desert Jewel of Tamnen!"
Hawk couldn't tell if the obsequiousness was real or feigned. Razem received it calmly enough, though his smile for Tarkor was full of real warmth. Burojan ate up the ceremony, however, preening and allowing Tarkor to bow more deeply than necessary. He clearly took the accolade as his due.
Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Page 18