Read Sethra Lavode (Viscount of Adrilankha) Online
Authors: Steven Brust
“Would Your Majesty condescend to tell me with what I am accused?”
“I should prefer you to admit to it without that formality; it sickens me to think of it.”
“Alas, I have nothing with which to reproach myself, and so I cannot imagine with what I could be charged.”
“Would it make matters any more clear, Yendi, if I were to tell you that I have just given the honor of an audience to His Highness Prince Ritsak, the Count of Flowerpot Hill and Environs?”
Pel bowed. “I regret that this tells me nothing.”
“The Prince, the Lyorn Heir, had the misfortune to be forced to
tell me that his House, that is, the House of the Lyorn, the House to which others look for moral guidance and political leadership, could not support my pretensions—that was his word, ‘pretensions,’ at which he had at least the grace to blush while uttering—to the Orb. The Orb, I might add, that circled my head as he spoke.”
“That is, indeed, a great misfortune, Majesty.”
“That is my opinion, Duke.”
“I do myself the honor of telling my Empress, with all sincerity, that I cannot imagine how I could be responsible for this misfortune.”
“You lie, Duke.”
Pel’s eyes flashed as did Her Majesty’s, and he said, “Your Majesty may well give me the lie, knowing that I cannot demand satisfaction of my sovereign.”
“Save your casuistries, Duke.”
Pel continued to glare, and made no response. At length, Zerika grunted and said, “Very well, your point is well taken. I ought not to calumniate you when you cannot respond. I withdraw the word.”
Pel bowed stiffly, and Zerika continued, speaking in carefully controlled tones, “I was reproached, by the House of the Lyorn, with what he did me the honor to call ‘inappropriate relations.’ ”
Pel frowned. “Inappropriate relations, Your Majesty? I cannot imagine what this might mean.”
“It means, Duke, that the House of the Lyorn reproached me with my lover.”
Pel felt his eyes widen as understanding came to him. After an instant’s reflection, he said, “I consider that an impertinence, Majesty.”
“As do I, and I said so.”
“And may I do myself the honor of asking Your Majesty what reply His Highness made?”
“He replied that it would be an impertinence if I were the Empress.”
In spite of all that had happened, Pel could not prevent the ghost of a smile from creasing his lips as he said, “There is Your Majesty’s casuistry.”
“Perhaps,” said Zerika. “But the fact remains, Duke, that no one knows about this matter except for you, and me, and my lover. And I give you my word that neither of us have spoken of it.”
“I have, in no way, by word, act, or implication, violated in the least part my Oath of Discretion, nor Your Majesty’s trust. To put it in the
simplest terms, Your Majesty, I have told no one, nor have I so much as hinted to anyone of this matter by the least clue, word, or gesture.”
“That is a tolerably exhaustive denial, Duke.”
Pel bowed.
“However, I do not believe it.”
Pel bowed once more, there being nothing more to say.
“Unfortunately,” continued the furious Zerika, “I have no means of proof.”
Pel waited quietly, meeting Her Majesty’s gaze.
After a moment she said, “You are dismissed from your post, and my presence. You are to leave this house at once. I never wish to see you again. Go.”
Pel bowed, backed up three steps, turned on his heel, and, without another word, left Her Majesty’s presence. Two steps took him to the front doors of the Manor, where, by chance, he happened to meet Khaavren, who was making certain the guards were posted correctly outside of these doors. We must observe that here, in fact, is another link in that chain of destiny: had Her Majesty not, a year before, thrown her pen against the wall, then Khaavren would not have been on duty, and, therefore, would not have been inspecting the guard posts at that moment, and, in conclusion, would not have encountered Pel as he left the Palace.
However, in the event, Her Majesty
did
throw her pen, and so Khaavren saw Pel as he was descending the wide, shallow stairway in front of Whitecrest Manor.
“Ah, my dear Pel,” said Khaavren.
“Khaavren! You are wearing your cloak!”
“Well,” said Khaavren, shrugging.
“You are, then, re-instated?”
“As you see.”
“How droll,” observed Pel.
“Droll?”
“That you should return to the Imperial service on the same day as I—but never mind, it is of no matter, my good friend.”
Khaavren, who knew that the last way to get any information from the Yendi was to ask it, changed the subject (as he thought) by saying, “I perceive you are on your way to some destination.”
“Oh, as far as that goes, I am setting out, yes.”
“Has Her Majesty done you the honor the give you an errand?”
“In a manner of speaking, my good Khaavren.”
“Well, I will walk with you for a while. In what manner of speaking? Or is it, perhaps, something you are forbidden to discuss?”
“On the contrary, I have received no order not to discuss it; but there is, in fact, tolerably little to say.”
“So much the better, then you needn’t delay your mission to tell me.”
“You wish to hear it then?”
“Why, unless there is a reason not to tell me, I should be delighted to learn what you are about.”
“Then I will tell you without delay.”
“You have my complete attention.”
“This is it, then: I am leaving.”
“You perceive, that I can see for myself. But, where are you going?”
“As to that, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, something will, no doubt, occur to me.”
“But, when will you be back?”
“Alas, I will not be back.”
“Pel!”
“Yes?”
“What does this mean?”
“Ah, let us not speak of it.”
“On the contrary, let us speak of nothing else! What has happened?”
Pel shrugged. “If you insist upon knowing—”
“I give you my word, I do.”
“Well, Her Majesty has done me the honor to require me to leave.”
“You are exiled?” cried Khaavren.
“Oh, not in the least. Merely required to leave Whitecrest Manor.”
“The Trey! Pel, what have you done?”
“I give you my word, Khaavren: I have done nothing at all in the world.”
“How, you were dismissed from Her Majesty’s service and required to leave over nothing?”
“In fact, Her Majesty believes that I have done something.”
“What does Her Majesty believe you have done?”
“Been indiscreet.”
“You? Impossible!”
Pel smiled. “I am glad that you say so, my dear friend; it is good to know one’s friends have faith.”
“Cha! It requires no faith to say that if someone has seen a winneasourus fly, that person is deluded.”
“You are good to insist upon it. But now—”
“Yes, now?”
“May I suggest that it will do your career no good to be seen with me?”
“Seen with you? I will be more than seen with you, my dear friend. Come with me at once. I insist upon it.”
“Come with you? Where?”
“Back to the Manor.”
“And yet, I have been ordered to leave the Manor.”
“Well, now you are ordered back—or, if not ordered, at least requested strongly.”
“Alas, it was the Empress who gave the order.”
“Well, it is I who make the request.”
“You perceive, the order of an Empress is stronger than the request of a friend.”
“Cha! That is true!”
“And so?”
“Well, in that case—”
“Yes?”
Khaavren put his hand on Pel’s shoulder. “I arrest you.”
“How, you arrest me? But, on what charge? Even Her Majesty, knowing she could not prove her allegations, did not go that far.”
“Oh, the charge, well, I arrest you on the charge of leaving a friend who does not want you to leave.”
“And is that a crime?”
“If not, it should be; in my opinion, someone who refuses a friend’s request is more culpable than someone who wishes to play a friendly game without informing the Imperial tax collectors, don’t you think?”
“There is something in what you say,” admitted Pel.
“I am pleased that you agree. And now I’m afraid you must come along.”
“Am I truly arrested?”
“Truly and officially, my dear friend.”
“Then, it appears, I have no choice.”
“None.”
“Would you like my sword?”
“How you go on! What would I do with your sword?”
“Yet, if I am arrested—”
“Oh, it will be a mild sort of captivity, I assure you. Now, let us return to the Manor.”
“Very well, it seems that, being arrested, I must comply.”
“Precisely.”
“Shall I precede you?”
“Not in the least. Arm in arm.”
“Very well; but this is a peculiar sort of arrest you carry out.”
“Oh, I set my own standards for such matters; you perceive, it is a perquisite of my position.”
“If you continue using such perquisites, you will not long have your position.”
“My dear Pel, do you imagine that I care so much for my position? I assure you, I became tolerably weary in the old days of salutes, and ceremonies, and the making of schedules, and the false smiles of the courtiers, and the giggling of the coquettes.”
“If that is true, why did you accept Her Majesty’s offer to return you your commission?”
“Do you truly wish to know?”
“Yes, in fact, I do.”
“Because this Phoenix still needs help, and she—”
“Yes.”
“She is a friend of my son.”
“Ah!”
“After all that has happened, well, it seemed like the least I could do.”
“I had not understood this circumstance,” said Pel, pressing his friend’s hand.
“Now you know.”
“Well, but is that the only reason?”
“I give you my word, Pel, that is most of it. But here we are at last. Come in. Let us adjourn to the dining room, and see if there is any food set out. If there is, you shall eat, and I will join you in an instant.”
“Since I am arrested, I must comply. But it is good to know that, at least, you do not starve your prisoners.”
“Oh, you know I would never do that.”
By chance, Daro had come down to the dining room, where she had anticipated being joined by Khaavren. “Here, madam,” he said. “I turn this miscreant over to your care. Have an extra plate set to dinner, and I shall return to claim it in a moment. Pel has been arrested, you know, and therefore may not leave. I can depend upon you?”
“Arrested!” cried the Countess. “My lord, are you jesting?”
“Oh, as to that, Countess, I do not insist that I am entirely in earnest. Yet, neither am I entirely in jest. But Pel will explain if he wishes.”
“But what about you? Where are you going?”
“Oh, I? I have an errand with Her Majesty that will not wait. I shall return directly. Have a care for our tricky Yendi, and be certain he does not escape.”
“Oh, I promise,” said Pel, “I shall be the most compliant of prisoners.”
“Excellent. I depend upon you.”
“But Khaavren, I think you should re-consider—”
“Not another word, Pel. You are my prisoner, and, as such, I conjure you to silence.”
Pel bowed his head.
With this, Khaavren took his leave of Daro and Pel, and himself back to the covered terrace, which room he entered immediately, as was his right as Captain of the Phoenix Guards, and, seeing Her Majesty speaking with the emissary from Elde, he took himself to a far corner of the room until this audience was complete. Though he made no effort to either listen to or watch this audience, he could not help but notice that at the expiration of the interview the emissary appeared humbled.
“So much the better,” observed Khaavren to himself. “Whatever humbles Elde must be good for the Empire.”
When this worthy had left, punctiliously giving Her Majesty every courtesy, the Empress sat down behind the paper-covered table and turned her attention to Khaavren, who placed himself before her and bowed.
“Well, Captain?” she said, acknowledging his salute.
“If I may beg for two minutes of Your Majesty’s time—”
“You may. What is it?”
“A trifling matter of jurisdiction, that is all, yet one that cannot wait.”
“Jurisdiction?”
Khaavren bowed.
“Explain yourself, for you perceive I have not the least idea in the world of what you are speaking.”
“Then I shall do myself the honor to explain it in terms that can leave no room for doubt.”
“That will be best, believe me.”
“Your Majesty, in practice, controls territory stretching from somewhere west of the city to Methni’s Channel, and from the coast to very nearly South Mountain.”
“I am aware of this, Captain.”
“And, in theory, which we hope to make true in practice soon, Your Majesty controls considerably more.”
“Well?”
“And, more than this, Your Majesty even has control of the comings and goings of a portion of this Manor, which Your Majesty has done us the honor—the great honor—of using to conduct Imperial business.”
“Come to the point, Captain.”
“I am about to, Majesty.”
“Well?”
“Your Majesty, as I have observed, has control of a portion of this manor.”
“Yes.”
“But not the rest of it.”
Zerika frowned and said, “You are speaking in riddles, sir.”
“Then does Your Majesty wish me to speak more plainly?”
“I have been wishing for nothing else for an hour, Captain.”
“Then here it is, as plainly as I can state it: Your Majesty has no right to decide who is and is not welcome in my home.”
The Orb darkened with anger—as, indeed, did Zerika’s face. “You presume to speak so your Empress?”
“Evidently,” said Khaavren, bowing.
Zerika fairly glared. “This is an impertinence.”
“Well.”
“How long have you been back in my service, Captain? An hour? Two? And now, it seems, you wish to be dismissed again?”
“That is as Your Majesty wishes; for myself, I care very little about it.”
“This is insupportable.”
“Not in the least.”
“I believe you are doing yourself the honor of disputing with me, Captain.”