Michelle West - The Sun Sword 02 - The Uncrowned King (18 page)

How had she gotten so used to him?

Commander Allen left the three—Berriliya, Kalakar, and Terafin—speaking; he moved to the table upon which lay a large.

marked map. Maps like these were probably scattered across
Averalaan Aramarelas
. Merchant caravans and their inroads into the Dominion were the best source of the lay of the land—with the possible exception of the bardic colleges—and each House had merchants who used slightly different routes, or visited different Tors or Tyrs depending on the goods that they traveled with. Members of the Order of Knowledge—and members of the Imperial army—were at work combining the knowledge that was, in most Houses, more carefully guarded than all but the persons of the ruling members of the Houses themselves; it had been, and remained, a very tricky subject, and Jewel suspected that at least one or two of the merchants had deliberately been less than truthful. Knew it for fact, although she hadn't bent her mind to finding out which ones.

Because, of course, the Houses were to see the finished map in its entirety; they'd insisted on it, as The Berriliya and The Kalakar would be so privileged in the course of their duties.

It was hard, to have two Commanders who were also the heads of their Houses. In the history of the Empire—the brief history, Jewel thought, and knew that her understanding of its history had indeed changed her—it had only happened once before, and that at the Empire's bloody founding. The Ten had ridden to war.

The Kalakar ruled her House; there was no question that it belonged to her. No question that it would be there, loyal and unswerving, upon her return. The Berriliya's hold on his house was no less secure, but Jewel was not as certain that the House itself would not require some careful cleaning when the war was over.

If, she added bleakly to herself, they won.

"We
must
win this war," she surprised herself by saying. And, as usual, the words immediately silenced the conversations that had dappled the room with their little noises. There were days when she hated the gift she'd been born to.

The Kalakar smiled. "Then we will."

The Berriliya frowned but said nothing; Jewel wasn't certain she wanted to see the day when they both smiled in unison. But she knew, suddenly, that she would.

Commander Allen turned from the map to the younger ATerafin as if the map had never been of much interest to him. His eyes, she thought, were bright with something other than color; it was as if he saw clearly a thing which no one else in the room could.

Unfortunately, that thing was Jewel.

She-felt, rather than saw, Avandar take a step to her left, coming out of her shadow, as it were; becoming more solid. He did not speak; it was not his place, and in that he was almost always painfully correct. But the warning in his presence was clear; perhaps too clear.

Jewel could not recall Morretz ever being so threatening in his silence. In fact, until this moment, she had—as she habitually did—forgotten that he was in the room. Their eyes met, and The Terafin's domicis actually smiled, as if Avandar's presence had drawn from them both the same thought.

Commander Allen chose not to notice Avandar; it was the wisest course of action, and she thought that he, like The Terafin, was a man who favored the Lord of Wisdom, if he clearly otherwise followed the god Cartanis, Lord of Just War.

"ATerafin," he said, offering her a nod.

"Commander."

"Your tone of voice suggests some further knowledge."

Not a question. She shrugged, and caught, for her trouble, the minute frown on The Terafin's face. "We've done this one before, Commander."

"We have." He waited; it was clear that she could speak as formally or informally as she liked and his reaction would be, as it was to most things, opaque. She had the sense that he could wait like that forever, as if he were Morel's statue.

And she would be damned if she was going to stand in his shadow for another minute. "My tone of voice is always going to suggest further knowledge that I don't have. If we're going to work together, get used to it."

"Jewel," The Terafin said, her voice, and Avandar's expression, blending into a stern warning that could—almost—not be ignored.

"I resent," Jewel continued, "the implication that I'm withholding information, if I can't immediately explain to
your
satisfaction something I've said. You aren't a stupid man—at least by all reports—so I'll grant you what little knowledge there is of the powers I've been born to. You requested them, after all. But we might as well begin here. I don't like to be treated like a lowly House spy.

"I'll work with you anyway; I don't have a choice." Not entirely true, though true enough on ethical grounds. "But I'm not your soldier, I'm not your adjutant, I'm not part of your Flight."

"Jewel."

"I'm not beholden to you, and I'm not going to be questioned by you as if I were a common criminal; you don't hold my oath. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." he replied, his voice dry as Northern winter.

"Good."

The Berriliya's expression was also as cold as Northern winter, which was fine. The Terafin's was even chillier, which was not. Oh, she was going to suffer for this later. She didn't even bother to glance at Avandar.

But she was surprised to see that The Kalakar's expression, if anything, was—faintly—approving. Approval was worse, in some ways, than disapproval, because it meant you had something to lose.

And loss was something that Jewel had never dealt well with.

"I don't think," Jewel said, as cautiously as she could, "that this war is the only war."

"Meaning?"

"It's a big battle."

"And you say this because?"

"Commander Allen, I say it on
instinct
. It's the instinct that I was born with. If you asked me to bet my life on it, I would."

"And how many other lives would you bet on it. Jewel ATerafin?"

"As many as you have," she replied. "If we don't win this battle, somehow, we've lost the whole thing."

" 'Whole thing'?"

"The Empire," she said. "The Western Kingdoms. The Dominion. Everything." It settled upon her, around her, within her: It was truth. Having spoken it, she could not turn back, and she knew, as her glance skirted The Terafin's stiff features, that the spirit of Terafin had known it when he had given her permission, even indirect orders, to go South.

"You will," the Commander said quietly, "allow us to speak privately for a few moments before we continue this interview." The Berriliya and The Kalakar had already drawn closer to his back, but he didn't turn that back upon her; he waited. Showing, no doubt, that his manners were vastly better than hers.

Still, it wasn't a request. She nodded, afraid. Because she knew— not as a seer, but as an intelligent young woman—that the war that was coming was in his hands as much as anyone's, and if they were to win it, it must remain that way. The Eagle was the only thing that could effectively bind and lead the other two. The Hawk. The Kestrel.

"Well?" Commander Allen turned to the man known as the Hawk.

"She's known for her capabilities. It is rumored that when she is certain, she's infallible." Dry now. The Berrilya had the best information-gathering network in the capital; he valued it with a cool sort of pride.

"Infallible. Ellora?"

The Kestrel's eyes were still upon the door that had just closed. "I wouldn't," she said, half to herself, "want to be the unfortunate fool sent to kill her. That domicis of hers is only barely a servant, if I'm any judge of character. I wouldn't have had him if he hadn't come from the guild."

"You wouldn't have him if he did," Commander Allen said; her scruples were well known.

"We are not speaking about the domicis," The Berrilya said, a bit too sharply.

"They come as a pair, Devran."

The Hawk subsided. The Kestrel continued. "But the young woman?"

"She's at least thirty, Ellora."

"She's young for thirty, in some respects."

Commander Allen did not argue the point. Instead, he waited. Ellora AKalakar—no,
The
Kalakar—had instincts that had been tested in battle; honed by death, by the dying. The Berrilya relied on structure, on order, on a clean rationality; The Kalakar took her chances upon the sword's edge. Both had survived, which was the test, perhaps the only true one.

"I'd trust her."

The line of his shoulders fell ever so slightly; he lifted a hand to his eyes a moment, as if to clear them of dust. "With your life?"

"My life, certainly."

"The lives of your men?"

Her answer took longer, but he knew her well enough to know what it would be; he wasn't disappointed. "Yes. Even if she swore no oath to me."

"But?"

"But I'm not certain that I would trust that girl with the deaths of my men. Or yours. Or his."

To someone who had never been a Commander in time of war, the words might have held no meaning. But to Commander Allen they were cutting.

"Devran?"

"Concur. The girl can barely follow The Terafin's command; I doubt that she will follow ours if it does not suit her purpose."

"That's not what I said." The Kestrel dropped her hand flat against the tabletop, slapping Devran's reflection. They were powerful, these two, but they were not above heat and ire. To Commander Allen's abiding regret.

"It Is not at the heart of what you think you said," was The Berriliya's cool reply, "but it is at the heart of the matter. She will do what she perceives to be 'right,' rather than what
we
perceive to be necessary."

"And do you counsel that we leave her behind?"

The Berriliya said nothing.

"Bruce?"

"No."

"Why?" Devran turned his back upon Ellora.

"Instinct," the Eagle said, his smile sharp. "Hers and ours. She means to come, and I think that means we need her."

"How will we control her?"

"Crowns' mandate."

"The Crowns' mandate," The Berriliya said balefully, glaring at The Kalakar, "doesn't even keep our own in line."

Ellora's smile was cool. "It doesn't keep us under
your
control, Devran. I believe you've forgotten what the Crowns' mandate
is
." Before he could answer—and there was no doubt whatever in Commander Allen's mind that a reply was forthcoming—she turned to the man whose lead they both followed. "We've given you our opinions, and as usual, they're… diverse. I note that you've withheld your own."

"Perhaps because I haven't formed one."

"I don't believe you."

At that, Commander Allen smiled. It was something that Ellora, direct and to the point, would say; Devran would think it, but keep his own counsel. Neither of them would be fool enough to believe that he had drawn no conclusion. "Time hasn't dulled you at all, Ellora. You're right."

"You like her." No question.

"Yes."

"You think she'll make a terrible soldier."

"Yes."

"You never had any intention of leaving her behind."

"True."

"Then why this discussion?"

"Because I've been wrong on occasion, and my understanding of people like this Jewel ATerafin is often… limited." He raised a hand and placed it almost absently upon the hilt of his sheathed sword. "She is no soldier."