The Ruthless

by Peter Newman

  I never will.

  But as the evening went on, he dared to hope he might make it. While Yadavendra was in his armour – a fact studiously ignored by all present – and the close proximity was making Satyendra’s face itch so much he kept his hands full to stave off the desire to scratch, it also kept the other Deathless at a distance. In fact, he suspected they were up to something. There seemed to be a social gap left between them and their High Lord. And me.

  He spent most of his time wondering whether he should mention this to Yadavendra or slip over to their side and ask if he could join.

  The other thing in his favour was Rochant’s reputation of being economical with his speech. While this meant he was occasionally bored senseless by the drunken gabbling of others, it minimized the need to reply and risk giving himself away.

  Several songs were sung in Rochant’s honour, and the courses were broken up with entertainments: jugglers, dancers and Story-singers. While these went on, he took the opportunity to study the other Deathless in attendance, hoping for insights.

  The easiest to watch was Lord Umed Sapphire, the High Lord’s elder brother. He’d settled into his seat early, and not moved from it since. The gold tattoo curling around his neck attested to one of his brutal deaths in the Wild, and his now cautious nature. Though Umed’s current body was well-worn and comfortably into its seventh decade, he delighted them all by getting up to dance. And over the course of the evening, Satyendra noticed that everyone of importance made sure to steal a few moments with him.

  He rarely hunts now but retains his popularity. I must learn his secret if I am to survive.

  When he looked at Lord Gada Sapphire, he found the other man already watching him. The two of them exchanged a respectful nod, but Satyendra did not like it one bit. There is little trust in those eyes and no warmth in that smile. It is like looking at myself with all the guile stripped away.

  Gada’s brother, Lord Vasin, seemed subdued, his mind elsewhere. Despite this, there were many attempts to draw him into discussions. The man was clearly popular, both in and out of the house, though it was hard to see why. In fact, Satyendra was disappointed. After hearing so much about the great hunter of House Sapphire, who had, among other things, faced down the Scuttling Corpseman and rescued him from the Wild as a baby, he had expected more. They call him a hero though I think Mother played a much bigger part in my survival. Funny how she gets so little credit. Her part in Vasin’s legend is forgotten as swiftly as my own is in Rochant’s.

  Then there was Lady Yadva, who in Satyendra’s opinion was by far the most dangerous. Yadavendra was the only one in the room that the monstrous Deathless deferred to, and then only to his face. Before he could ponder her further however, she was planting herself in front of him, and filling up his cup.

  ‘Drink,’ she said, clapping him on the arm. ‘You’ve a lifecycle’s pleasures to catch up on!’

  ‘That I have,’ he replied.

  ‘You’ve been missed. Father fair tore up the place when they took you.’ The beads in her hair clacked together as she shook her head. ‘Dark times. We’ve been holding our breaths all these years, waiting to see if you’d make it back.’ She met his eyes. ‘But I knew you would.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Her finger prodded his chest. ‘You’re too damned clever to go out like that. I knew you’d have another vessel tucked away or some kind of plan. That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Rochant. You know which way the wind is blowing before the Birdkin do.’

  ‘I’m sure it has changed direction many times in my absence.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ She raised her cup. ‘To the future. May the winds be ever at your back.’

  He copied her gesture, but sipped where she drank deeply. There was an energy to her that he found unnerving, and he was glad when she left.

  Aside from the Sapphire, two Tanzanite Deathless were also in attendance, but they had been seated at the opposite end of the table, and he caught only glimpses of them. Only two things Satyendra saw for certain, that they were not being made particularly welcome, and that neither seemed excited by the food.

  As each guest reached their limits, they came to pay their respects. Again, Satyendra was glad for Rochant’s reputation for being reserved, it meant he didn’t have to reach for much enthusiasm. The low level tension had proved to be exhausting and he was eager to spend some time alone.

  However, when it was Yadavendra’s turn to leave, he beckoned for Satyendra to follow, a command dressed up as invitation. They walked together in silence, until the High Lord was ducking through the door into his chambers. He immediately strode to the opposite side of the room and leaned on the windowsill, while Satyendra waited by the door, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

  ‘The house was in good spirits tonight,’ said Yadavendra, ‘did you see their faces, old friend?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Our people are pleased to see you return and they are pleased to see us whole again. Too often, house business stops one of us from attending a rebirth, or one of us is between lives. It is auspicious that tonight was different, a sign that things will change for the better. Yes! I feel it.’

  Yadavendra let out a sigh, and sagged a little, his enthusiasm flipping into plaintiveness. ‘While you were gone I did everything you asked of me. Even Sorn. They begged us for help, you know? Raised tributes, made sacrifices … I stood by and let them be taken.’ He lifted his head to gaze out of the window. ‘The others don’t understand. How could they? Do you think I could tell them now?’

  I have no idea, thought Satyendra. ‘A High Lord does not need to explain himself. Do so and they will think you weak. It will only invite more questions.’

  Yadavendra nodded sadly. ‘As always you speak the truth. Ah, but it is hard. My daughter hates me, and the others think I have gone mad. But you, old friend, you know the truth, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, my High Lord.’ Even as he was replying, Satyendra’s mind worked furiously. Sorn’s destruction was by Rochant’s design? But why? It was his own settlement. If he’d wished to punish the people there were a thousand ways he could have done so. Ahh, but all of them would have involved taking responsibility. Somehow, he had the High Lord carry out his dirty work for him.

  Yadavendra’s shudder of relief was emphasized by the great crystal wings. ‘That simple words can bring such pleasure. Know that I never doubted your brilliance, but, as the years went by I found it harder to hold onto. You were right, of course, my sister was poison, and I’ve seen how that poison seeped into the house, corrupting everything. It’s easy to burn things away, but to rejuvenate them is beyond me. How to make things right again? That is the question driving everything I’ve tried to do since becoming High Lord. It’s all I want, you know. To make things right.’

  Satyendra fought to keep the sneer from his face. He’s trying to convince me of this rot and he’s not even convincing himself.

  ‘And I began to worry. It was you who warned me that Nidra’s soul was so evil, so warped by her compact with demons, so vile, that her Godpiece itself was corrupted. But what about Samarku Un-Sapphire’s Godpiece? Could that not also have been corrupted?’ He spun round, pointing his glaive directly at Satyendra’s chest. ‘I gave his Godpiece to you!’

  He wanted to flee but forced himself to be still, to stay calm. Rochant would stay calm. ‘You are wise to be vigilant, my High Lord. We must be most careful who we trust. Had I not come directly from the Bringers of Endless Order, I would advise you to test me as thoroughly as you must test the others. But you were there. You saw with your own eyes that I am no abomination.’

  Yadavendra was nodding now. ‘Yes, that is true.’

  ‘And have I ever given you reason to doubt my loyalty?’ Satyendra fervently hoped that Rochant had not.

  ‘No.’ Yadavendra banged the butt of his staff on the ground. ‘You have been a steadfast friend to the house and now you are back we can take decisive action. This pleases me … B
ut still, sometimes I think about my sister and … did I go too far?’

  ‘What other choice did you have?’

  Yadavendra’s mouth worked silently for a moment, making ghosts of words that he could not bring himself to say. ‘I had to be strong.’

  ‘Of course you did, you are the High Lord of House Sapphire. All of the others follow your lead because you are strong. The strongest of them all.’

  ‘The strongest of them all,’ whispered Yadavendra. As quickly as it had vanished, his confidence visibly returned. ‘Now, enough of the past. Let us talk about the future. The other houses band together to challenge my rule. But what to do about them? They will make their demands tomorrow and I must answer, one way or another.’ His eyes narrowed accusingly. ‘You said they were all bluster, that they would never come if we looked ready to fight. I have armed my people and put them on the Godroad. I behave like I am hungry for war. My own people are scared of me, and it has not worked! All this,’ he lifted his glaive, ‘constant display of force. Years of it!’ he brought it down again, hard. ‘All for nothing!’

  It soon became clear to Satyendra that he was expected to conjure up a solution, something brilliant. It was almost too funny to be true! He, who knew nothing of the higher level politics of the Deathless, was supposed to be Yadavendra’s guide in the darkness. Out of his depth and only vaguely aware of the rules, Satyendra did what he had done his whole life in such situations: he bluffed.

  ‘You were wise to make them wait until after the feasting. Whatever their authority, they are coming onto your lands. I say, keep them comfortable but give them nothing.’

  ‘And when they invoke the authority of the Council of High Lords? What then? It is one thing to ignore a message, which, I tell you now, I have done many times. Quite another to refuse a Deathless to their face.’

  ‘With what power do they remove you? They are two Deathless with a handful of loyal subjects. You are six, with a castle stuffed to the brim of the finest Sapphire. What can they possibly do to you here, in the very heart of your power?’

  ‘Yes. Yes! You are right.’ His smile was only brief however. ‘But what if they make demands? What if they threaten me? I have already crossed so many lines …’

  ‘If they are foolish enough to threaten you here, then let them suffer the consequences. Make an example of them and the other houses will not dare to cross you.’ Yadavendra was nodding again so he decided to push his luck. ‘And might I suggest receiving them out of your armour? It will show how little you respect their authority, and be far more comfortable.’

  ‘Take it off?’ Yadavendra looked down at himself, as if surprised to find the armour there. ‘I could rest. It feels like so long since I just … stopped.’ He raised an arm, twisting it so that the gemslight danced along the sapphire plates. ‘I don’t know. There are so many enemies.’

  A perverse desire rose in Satyendra: to be there when the armour was removed, to know what was left of the man inside. What does it smell like in there?

  The High Lord dismissed him with a gesture. ‘I will consider it.’

  Yes you will, he thought, bowing and slipping out of the room. And sooner or later, you will become my puppet as surely as you were Rochant’s. He wanted you to take the fall for Sorn, that much is obvious. And for Nidra Un-Sapphire too. He was as corrupt as I am. Perhaps worse!

  When the time came, did he intend the other High Lords to remove Yadavendra, or did he have some other plan? With a thrill, Satyendra realized it didn’t matter either way. It’s up to me to decide his fate now.

  Pari had barely sat down on her bed when the old woman shuffled into her room. Though she hadn’t sung for entrance, Pari didn’t mind. She considered herself something of a patron for eccentrics.

  ‘Here you go, Lady Pari, a little drink and some fresh baked biscuits for your nighttime snack. I know good Lord Rochant is very fond of his Lady Pari so I’ve come here myself to see these got to you in good time.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, my dear.’ She didn’t mention that she’d come straight from a feast and done nothing but eat or drink for the last four hours. ‘Have we met before?’

  ‘Not to talk proper, no. But I’ve seen you. Seen you many times, I have.’ The cup and the saucer clinked as her shaking hands lowered them onto the table. ‘Careful with the biscuits, my lady. I know you Tanzanite like things a bit spicy, so I added some fire to them, if you know what I mean.’ She gave a yellowing smile.

  ‘Lovely. And your name?’

  ‘Oh, where are my manners? I’m just Roh, my lady. Served my whole life in the castle since I was a girl. Last time you were here, you looked even older than me and now you look more like my granddaughter. No matter how much I know, it still bakes my thinking parts every time I see it. Must be nice to go to bed all old and achy one day, and come back all fresh faced the next. Very nice.’

  ‘Nice doesn’t begin to describe it, believe me. But even this young face needs to rest.’ She gestured to the door.

  ‘Right you are. Good night, Lady Pari.’

  Pari decided to enjoy a few moments peace before calling on the servants to help her undress. It was late, she was tired, and the day had been frustrating. They’d all but been seated with the Dogkin during the feast, and virtually ignored by High Lord Sapphire. At least it had eased Arkav back into things gently. He’d seemed quite overwhelmed by the spectacle of it all. Tomorrow is going to be difficult for him.

  She idly picked up a biscuit and gave it a nibble. There was a pleasing kick of sweet warmth under her tongue. Not a bad effort for a Sapphire.

  Then she saw the note hidden underneath. She recognized the style immediately; it was from the same mysterious sender that had written a warning about the assassination attempt on Rochant at his previous rebirth. Like the last one, this was short and to the point:

  Your lover has not returned. A pretender claims his title and enjoys the trappings of his power. Once again, he needs you. Act swiftly.

  Pari put the remains of the biscuit back on the plate. She went to the room next door and found her brother surrounded by servants in the process of removing his clothes. ‘That may be a bit premature, my dear. The night isn’t quite over yet.’

  They quickly restored the paint on his face, and reattached his headdress of violet and gold leaf, before slipping away to leave Pari and Arkav in private. ‘I’m going to see if Lord Rochant really has returned to us and I want you to come with me.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit late for that?’

  ‘No. I think it’s the perfect time to pay a visit. We’re more likely to see the real him if most of the castle is asleep.’

  ‘I’m not agreeing with you, but I’ll come.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘How are we going to approach him?’

  ‘Gently. I can handle Rochant, whoever he is, but I want you there just in case I handle him in the wrong way.’ She had been aiming for a touch of humour to lighten the mood but the words came out flat, and Arkav looked concerned rather than amused.

  She took Arkav through the castle via a secret passage, one that Rochant has showed her years ago to allow her to visit him discreetly. The passage was just as low and winding as she remembered, but this time her knees were more than up to the challenge.

  When they’d crawled to the end she slid aside the panel – that was covered by a picture of a surprised young man – to admit them directly into Rochant’s bedchamber.

  She saw him sit up in surprise and spoke quickly. ‘Well, you didn’t expect me to use the door like everyone else?’

  He recovered quickly. ‘Of course not.’

  It was strange to be in Rochant’s room again. Familiar paintings covered the walls, each one was a portrait, and most were by different artists. Over the years, Rochant had told her about all of them, and she had forgotten almost every word. This was because she didn’t really care about the subjects, she just enjoyed watching his face when it was moved by passion. In the weak gemslight, Par
i has the horrible feeling they were all staring at her. Rochant himself was definitely staring at her. Or, at least, the one pretending to be Rochant. Unlike them, he had been prepared for sleep, the paint stripped from his face, and only a thin sleeping robe covered his slender shoulders. His new body, assuming it is his body, was smaller than the last one but he had that familiar poise and sense of calm she’d grown so fond of. And yet something was off. Her heart did not lift as quickly at the sight of him.

  She climbed out of the passage and held out her hand to her brother as he did the same.

  ‘Lady Pari Tanzanite,’ said Rochant, rising. ‘Lord Arkav Tanzanite. I must say, this is … unexpected.’

  ‘Well, you know me, I hate to be predictable.’

  ‘Of course.’ He gave the slightest of smiles. ‘No one could ever accuse you of being boring.’

  ‘I wanted to see you.’

  ‘We’ve just been at a feast together.’

  ‘Hardly, you were at the other end of the room with your High Lord. I couldn’t even get close.’

  He tilted his head. ‘Is that why you’re here? To get close?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  He came forward and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. ‘It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Pari.’

  Suns! Is he flirting with me? If so, he’s out of practice. She wasn’t sure how she’d been expecting Rochant to react to her. Anger, perhaps. After all, the last time she’d seen him, she’d abandoned him to Nidra’s mercy. But if this was Rochant, that meant he’d escaped Nidra, escaped the Wild, and outsmarted them all. This meeting could just be another part of his plan, but I can’t shake the feeling that this man before me isn’t Rochant.

  Her train of thought was interrupted by her brother, who had stepped forward to stand next to her. He was holding out his hand. ‘It’s been too long.’