The Sun Sword - The Broken Crown Part 67

"Is that an answer?" The Kalakar said at length; The Berriliya was silent throughout.

"What was the question?"

"Will you come," she said quietly, "to Annagar?"

"Will I come out of retirement?"

"Yes."

"It took two years," he told her quietly, although he stared out at the sea, always at the sea, "to remember that men and women were neither weapons nor enemies. To trust them; to realize that accident and illness were more likely to take them from me than ambush or open clash."

She shrugged.

"I do not think, Ellora, that you've remembered either. Or you," he said to The Berriliya, without rancor. "But I am not of the patriciate except by military rank, should I choose to air it." He bowed his head a moment.

"Rank or no," The Berriliya said, "you know that we've elected to accompany the army."

"At the Kings' behest, and with their grave apprehension." He lifted a hand to the back of his neck; ma.s.saged the muscles there.

"Yes."

"And you know," The Kalakar said, "that our previous success was, in all ways, the success of three Commanders. We two are agreed on at least-and possibly only- one thing: We can't go South without you."

"Then you have asked me no question; instead, you have laid a problem at my feet." He smiled at that. "Old times."

"Allen."

"I wanted you to know what you were asking of me, but I see that neither of you are going to understand it. How unsatisfying. And how," he smiled sharply, "expected. Or it would have been, a decade ago.

"I know of the kin, Ellora. I know what happened here the last time the kin were involved- although I wasn't in the city at the time." He lifted his cloak, and in the sun's light, they saw that he was girded round with a sword, and the sword was familiar to both of them. "I have not forgotten duty. And I will not lie. If I have done other things for eight years, I have been apprentice in all of them, and master of none; they were enjoyable, but they were not what I was made for." He let the cloak fall. "But I would not lose them either. I dislike the loss of something I have struggled so hard to achieve." The seawall carried the weight of his hands for a moment; the weight of his arms and his shoulders. Then he straightened out, and as he did, he seemed taller. "Are you answered?"

"Yes," The Kalakar said, as The Berriliya nodded.

"Good. Had either The Kalakar or The Berriliya chosen to remain in Averalaan, I would not have allowed it."

"What, you don't think that the army survived our absence?"

"It survived well enough," the Commander said, "when there was no war." His smile was as

sharp as the words themselves, and for the first time that day, the Kestrel and the Hawk smiled with him.

"How long do we have?"

The Hawk and the Kestrel exchanged glances.

"Intelligence is being gathered and consolidated. General Alesso di'Marente seems to have been prepared."

"And his aim?"

"We do not believe that he intends to declare war upon the Empire. He will certainly take Averda if he can; we believe he will also attempt to bring down clan Lamberto in Mancorvo."

"Internal affair," the Eagle said softly.

"Yes."

"Our angle?"

"We have," The Berriliya said neutrally, "the surviving member of the clan Leonne."

"Dangerous," the Eagle said, "but possible. When will we know for certain?"

"Either war will be declared at the height of the Festival of the Sun, or it won't; I think the

Festival of the Sun, politically, will decide the course of the war for the Annagarians."

"And for us."

"Allen-"

"The levies?"

The Kalakar rolled her eyes; the man who had mourned the loss of a gentle man's life had already been buried. "We wait the Kings' orders. Speaking of which, I have an interview that I must attend."

She knew, the moment she entered the large, empty hall-or rather, the large hall that should have been empty-that there was going to be trouble. The Ospreys were that type of weapon; double-edged, with a grip that grew slippery when the blade had drawn too much blood.

Sentrus Auralis, c.o.c.ky as ever, stood at an indolent ease, his eyes so artfully narrowed he looked as if he'd fall over if touched. Sentrus Alexis-a soldier determined to keep that rank in spite of the best intentions of her superior officers-stood with her arms crossed, her fingers tapping her upper arms. She usually stood with a dagger at hand-but not even Alexis would have been quite so bold where The Kalakar herself was concerned.

Cook stood beside the long table, arms crossed just as Alexis' were, sword girded. He did not wear armor, or a helmet, but of all the soldiers present, his presence did the least disservice to her House name. But he stood beside, and slightly behind, the young woman whose presence The Kalakar had requested.

Kiriel.

Duarte sat beside her until The Kalakar entered the hall; he rose at once to greet her, the motion a command to the Ospreys present. She knew that, until the interview was over, he would not sit again. But she wondered, idly, what he would do when she ordered him out of the hall.

Ordered them all out.

She came alone; they saw that, and she knew it served her well in their eyes. Not even Korama accompanied her, and in matters of both import and delicacy-although the combination of anything to do with the Ospreys and delicacy was almost beyond the bounds of comprehension- she never left him behind. He was not just a Verrus, but her Verrus; as close to domicis as The Kalakar would allow.

The Kalakar would never trust an outsider-and at that, a nonmilitary man, to see to her protection or her personal needs. She knew that many of The Ten employed the domicis, through either short- or long-term contract, and although it had been pointed out, with more or less heat depending upon who had started the age-old argument, that she certainly paid the House Guards- and especially the Verruses-in coin, she could not shake the feeling that gold or no, they were loyal to her.

Which didn't quite explain the Ospreys. Or why she tolerated them. In times of peace, she could barely defend them herself-but war was looming on the horizon; she could almost taste it in the winds.

The Kings would return the only right answer, and the gathering would start.

"Primus Duarte," The Kalakar said softly.

"Commander."

"You provide more of an escort for a young Sentrus than one normally sees."

His eyes flickered ever-so-slightly to his left, glancing off the steely profile of Sentrus Alexis. So.

"Kiriel," The Kalakar said, willing to bend slightly to the ill-humor of this particular company, "do you require the presence of the Ospreys for our interview?"

Kiriel's eyes turned to Duarte, but she was far less subtle than her superior officer. Ellora could

see the whites of Duarte's eyes as he rolled them.

"Kalakar," he said.

"Primus. This is not the time or the place."

"There is no other," Alexis replied, and The Kalakar took a very hard look at the single sword

across her right shoulder.

"Sentrus," Duarte said, and the woman fell silent.

"Primus," The Kalakar continued, as if there had been no interruption, "this is not a torturer's

session. This is an interview." "It's more than just an 'interview,' " Auralis said, in that wonderfully attractive drawl that made him so popular among the less discriminating young of either s.e.x. "It's an interrogation on the eve of the biggest war we've seen in twelve years." His lovely eyes were still lidded, but he'd straightened up to his full height. It made him look slightly more dangerous^-and marginally more respectful.

This was the real reason why Ellora had elected to leave both of the Verruses behind. They could not tolerate obvious disrespect, and she did not wish to have to defend it when she found it distasteful enough herself.

She did not respond, but instead continued to meet the eyes of the one man she was sure of: Duarte AKalakar, fledgling mage, leader of the Ospreys.

"You know what's at stake," she said softly.

"And you," was his quiet reply. "Commander, may I speak freely?"

Ellora snorted with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt. "And I'm to stop you when I can't even keep a bunch of your sentruses in line?"

His smile was rueful, but beneath the smile of both of these leaders was steel; they knew the people who served them; they knew the promises that had been made.

Neither knew, and neither wished to know, what would happen to the service when the promises themselves were compromised. But neither wished to go to war against not only the Dominion, but some shadowy cabal that seemed to work beside it and within it, with less knowledge than they could easily have.

As if they knew what the only clean answer to their predicament was, they both turned to Kiriel. The girl, cool and pale and somehow darker than cloudy night, said nothing, and there was a quality to her silence that made Ellora realize, for the first time, that although the young Sentrus did not understand what exactly the difficulty was that she posed to the House Guards, and therefore to Kalakar, she understood, in some way, that it was a difficulty.

And she found it amusing.

There are times, Ellora thought, as she met, unblinking, the young woman's gaze, when Devran's right. Then, as if such a concession, unspoken though it was, galled her, she said, "You are required to attend the interview itself. You are not required to respond to questions that pertain to your past. While you remain a member of the House Guards, you are under my protection, and your past is not at issue."

But her voice was clipped, even cool, as she spoke, which had not been her intent. There was something about Kiriel that provoked her; something about the girl that made her, attractive and extremely competent though she was, very difficult to like.

Turning to Duarte, some of that coolness remained. "You are to leave, with the men and women under your command. Any Osprey that chooses to disobey that order-and it is an order, make no mistake-will find themselves debarred from House Kalakar, names stripped. Do I make myself clear?"

It was not what she had intended, but once she had set foot on that path, she could not turn back; she understood the rules of leadership.

Still, Sentrus Alexis hesitated a moment, seeking something from Primus Duarte.

Find it soon, Ellora thought, ill-amused.

The woman apparently found enough of what she sought to tender The Kalakar-the Commander -a sharp salute.

They left, and they left her alone with Kiriel di'Ashaf, a girl who had not yet served the mandatory probation required to make her Kiriel Ashaf AKalakar. I gave her my word, Ellora thought, as she met the girl's black eyes. Thinking of Evayne a'Nolan, and the ma.s.sacre in the Averdan valleys. Thinking of what it meant, to return there now.

Thinking of demons, of darkness, of a city racked by the screams of the dying.

And Kiriel di' Ashaf's smile widened slightly, as if those screams, attenuated and distanced only slightly by years and time, were a song she could hear, could conduct.

The Kalakar rose, shuttering her face, setting the memories firmly aside. And then she opened the door to the hall.

"Gentlemen. Time is of the essence."

Before Kiriel could rise or speak, five men and two women entered the great hall. The Princess of the blood, Mirialyn ACormaris, Devon ATerafin, The Berriliya, Commander Allen, Member Meralonne APhaniel of the Order of Knowledge and the little known, but greatly respected, Jewel ATerafin.

She knew that she would be true to the word that she had given when she had accepted the service of Kiriel di'Ashaf, but her lips turned up in a slightly triumphant smile as she caught the surprise that made Kiriel seem, for just a moment, a sixteen-year-old girl.

She did not understand these people.

For a moment, fear held her; she touched her sword, pulling what shadow she could find into a tight, near impenetrable web around her body-armor that only the mage would find easy to pierce. But although her hand was on the haft of her blade, she did not draw it, and the moment pa.s.sed, leaving her with a dryness in the mouth and throat. Frustration settled around her shoulders as if it were the only mantle she would ever wear again.