02 - The Barbed Rose (17 page)

Kallista couldn’t help beaming in return, despite her renewed worry. “They grow stronger and more beautiful every day. Rozite already was holding her head up when we left them. We are all most anxious to be together again.”

“It may not be safe for them here,” the Reinine warned.

“With demons on the prowl,” Kallista said, “is there anywhere in Adara that is truly safe? If they are here,
we
can protect them, rather than simply worry.”

The dishes on the table held only bones and crumbs. The nine of them dining had put away the food with the outsized appetites of active warriors and magic workers. Leyja and Ferenday got up to collect the tray of pastries, cheeses and sweet cordials on the nearby sideboard. Kallista had been feeling sufficiently fed, but the sight of the delicate buns oozing cream and other delights changed her mind.

“Cha for me,” she said, requesting the hot brew, “rather than a liqueur. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble.” Ferenday pulled the cord signaling the servants. “Especially if we are through with state secrets.”

“We are, mostly.” Serysta poured liqueur for those requesting it. “Though there are a few other matters to be brought up.”

Ferenday gave instructions to the servant at the door and returned to the table.

“This is something of a secret.” Serysta Reinine took a sip of her drink. “General Uskenda wants to send you to scout the rebel camp. And while I think this is an excellent idea—your magic kept you hidden last year through all of Tibre after all—I agree that we must deal with this demon first. And I find that I do not like the thought that such a precious resource as yourself can be ordered about by any general—or major or colonel—who takes it into her head to do so.”

“I
am
a captain in your army, my Reinine.” Kallista did not think she liked the way this talk was going.

“That can be changed. You’re overdue a promotion.”

“As are many of Adara’s officers. Nor would I turn one down—if it is to major. But please, Your Majesty, only to major. I do not care to deal with the repercussions or the envy if you advanced me higher.”

The Reinine considered, nodded. “Done. But I will detach you from all other duty. You will report directly to me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Kallista’s mind raced. “And if I could make another request?”

Serysta waved a hand, resignation in her face. “Why not? What is it you want?”

“Two things. Or it might be three. Send Lieutenant Tylle and her quarto back to the prison. She is not needed here, truly. Unless General Uskenda has some use for her.”

“Truly?” Serysta looked at Joh.

“Truly,” he said. “I am not the man I once was.”

“No, you are not,” Serysta mused. Kallista could almost taste her truth-magic. “You have become much more, I think. Very well, that is done. And the other thing?”

“If you could attach a courier to my—command. Viyelle Torvyll would do very well if, as I believe, your investigation finds that she only followed orders in bringing that gold. She did a good job in that and I believe she would be useful to me.”

Serysta Reinine flicked a finger toward Syr who nodded. “Done, if she passes the investigation. Anything else?”

Kallista bit her lip. Did she dare ask? But nothing ever succeeded without the attempt. “I ask that you pardon my new ilias.”

“What?” Joh burst out.

Torchay merely sighed. Obed watched, silent as he had been through the whole of the meal.

“I have already placed him in your custody, Major.” The Reinine straightened in her chair, drew authority around her. “I do not see what benefit pardoning him would have. He did commit the offense. He tried to murder three of you.”

“Isn’t a person’s intent taken into account?” Kallista dredged her memory for the bits of law she’d studied in the academy and officer’s training. “He did not intend murder. He was told burning the powder would heal us. At most, he injured us through negligence, or recklessness.”

“Is this true, Suteny Ailo?” Serysta’s stare arrowed the length of the table to Joh.

He sighed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this at your trial?”

“I did not think it relevant.”

Serysta scowled at him. “Truth is
always
relevant.” She leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers on the glossy tabletop as she considered. “I will not pardon him, Naitan,” she said finally. “He did after all hide the powder and set it off.”

She held up a hand to forestall Kallista’s protest.
“But,”
she said, “I will commute his sentence to the time he has already served. As of this moment, he is a free man. Syr, see the paperwork is done, will you?”

“
Thank you
, Your Majesty.”

“Is there anything else you require, Naitan?” The faintest edge of sarcasm rode the Reinine’s voice and Kallista flushed red with embarrassment.

“No, my Reinine. You have been far more than generous with your loyal subject.”

“Oh, stop groveling.” The Reinine winked. Actually
winked
at Kallista. When she stopped goggling at the idea, she had to smile.

Serysta Reinine went on. “There is something I would request of you in return.”

“Anything, my Reinine.”

“You might ask your iliasti before promising such a thing.” Serysta’s smile was wry. “I recall that they tend to have their own opinions of certain things.”

Kallista glanced at her men. Only Torchay raised an eyebrow. The other two gave her blank faces, but she could sense Obed’s reservations through her link. “Then I suppose we ought to hear what this request is, before we agree to it.”

“The Tibran boy, the naitan you brought us. I want to…attach him to your command as well. He is a West naitan, as far as anyone here can tell. There is no one to teach him. He makes people uncomfortable with his scars and empty eyes.” Serysta brooded over her tiny cordial cup. “Something tells me he is important, but…he worries me. He does not need to be so alone.”

“Of course.” Kallista agreed before she remembered to check with her iliasti. Torchay and Obed both nodded agreement. Joh hesitated a moment before nodding, too. “Send him to us tonight, if you like.”

“Tomorrow is soon enough. Is there anything else, Major? I can arrange for temple vows with Joh, if you like.”

“I think we would rather wait until the others arrive for that.” This time, she glanced at the others as she spoke, sensing approval through the two fully formed links. Then she glanced at her still-empty dessert plate. “I don’t believe I require another thing—save perhaps for one of those cream pastries. And then, I doubt I
require
one.” She smoothed down her snug dress uniform. “Twins seem to have had a considerable effect on the fit of my uniform.”

Everyone laughed, including the Reinine. With a smile, Leyja slid two pastries onto Kallista’s plate. “Have two. Heaven knows you’ve earned them.
Twins
.” She made a face, and over general laughter, the conversation turned to more pleasant matters than rebellions and demons.

The night passed quietly, without demons, to everyone’s relief. The morning had not advanced much beyond breakfast before Courier Torvyll entered the parlor, saluted sharply, then swept into a low bow.

“Congratulations, Major, on your promotion,” she said as she rose, “and thank you from the depths of my spirit for requesting I be assigned this duty.” She paused for dramatic effect and slanted a teasing look toward Kallista. “It
does
require quartering here, does it not?”

Kallista laughed. Viyelle had not been nearly so amusing last year. “Yes, Courier, it does. Come. Sit. We should talk.” The Reinine’s investigators had obviously cleared her of any complicity in the gold shipment, or she would not be here. It was time Kallista learned more.

Joh trailed after them on his magical leash. Torchay was moving furniture out again, opening a practice/workout area in the first half of the parlor.

Obed approached. “I go to meet with our bankers. There are matters to be attended.”

“You don’t go alone. Torchay?”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here without Obed or myself. No offense to our new ilias, but he doesn’t have proper training yet to protect you.”

“Then we wait till we can all go together. None of us is to be alone.”

Obed gave his muted bow. “As you will it.” He pulled off his Southron robe and went to help move furniture.

“Now.” Kallista settled onto her favorite velvet sofa, gesturing Viyelle into the chair beside it. She tugged Joh down next to her and leaned against him, getting comfortable. “When I knew you last year, Viyelle Prinsipella, I would never have expected to see you in courier’s grays. How did this come about?”

Viyelle fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. “It was the explosion, Major. Until that moment, the war was very far away. Not real. But something like that—that wasn’t magic, but could shake the whole palace, could bring walls down and kill…It made the war very real.”

“But why join courier service? You’re a prinsipella.”

“With no chance of becoming prinsep after my mother.” Viyelle’s flippant tone tried to cover an old bitterness.

“I thought any child of a prinsep’s ilian could be named heir.” Kallista had studied governance, but had no experience of the reality.

“Technically, theoretically, yes. That is the way the laws are written. Practically, however—only my sedili with magic have any chance at being chosen. I have no magic, therefore I have no purpose. Or last year, I had none.” Viyelle flushed red, but kept talking. “Which is why I…did the things I did.”

Those things were more mischief than wickedness, Kallista had to admit now. Viyelle had no idea Stone would collapse if she danced him too far away, and the fight she started—one with blades in the halls of the palace itself—had been caused by magic spelled to induce anger and quarrelling. Even then, Viyelle had not seemed bad. Merely…purposeless.

“The explosion—it was Tibran gunpowder, not magic,” Viyelle was saying. “If it could do all that it did without magic, might not I also do something without magic? So, after much consideration, I joined the couriers. And have been listening to the objections ever since. From all three of my mothers. Especially my birth mother who manages Shaluine’s concerns at court and saw me as following her path for whichever of my sedili becomes prinsep. I prefer courier’s service.”

“As would I.” Kallista glanced at the clock on the table, a new addition to the suite. Small, tabletop clocks were the latest craze among the wealthy. Small clocks and handguns, which had been created with borrowed Tibran technology and the new gunpowder. Both were recent inventions, and the novelty had yet to pall. Kallista doubted it would. Both were quite useful in their own arenas.

“We have another joining our company,” she said. “I had hoped he would be here by now so we could get the introductions out of the way and be about our business.”

“If I might ask, Major, what is my business to be?”

“At this moment, more of what you have been doing. Collecting information. Giving it out. I need to know what is happening in the palace, the mood here.” Kallista took a deep breath. Admitting fault was never easy. “I allowed our ilian to be isolated last year, and that was disastrous. While I would rather not involve myself in courtier’s games, I cannot wander about in ignorance. None of us can. There will doubtless be other tasks for you, though I don’t know what right now.”

Viyelle inclined her head in acknowledgment as a knock sounded at the door.

“That will be Gweric.” Kallista stood. She had not seen the boy since Fox recovered from his surgery in Kallista’s home city of Turysh. Fox’s leg had been severely injured and he’d lost his sight in the battle for Ukiny, where the first of them had been marked by the One. It had healed badly, but they’d been forced to wait until after their journey to Tibre and back to have the lameness corrected. They’d taken Gweric with them to have his injuries healed as well.

Gweric’s feet had sustained much more damage—the bones broken and set wrong, tendons and muscles cut over months and years by the Tibran Rulers who feared his magic at the same time they sought to use it. Gweric had remained in Turysh for more surgery when Kallista and her ilian had moved to their new mountain estate to await the births of their children.

The youth entered the parlor, his limp scarcely noticeable. Kallista’s mother had done wonders with her healing. Gweric stopped short, just inside the door. His face with its empty eye sockets and deep scars turned from one to the other of them.

“Naitan?” His voice was near to a whisper. “Kallista?”

“Yes.” She strode the length of the room to wrap him in a hug, Joh hurrying behind her.

He looked good. Gweric was a handsome boy despite his scars. His shining gold hair fell down over his face and he stood straight and tall, well-formed. He was just seventeen now, the age an Adaran boy would be in his second year of military service. He could not serve as other young men did. The Tibrans had ruined him for that. He had only his magic.

Gweric hugged her tight, tighter than she expected, but he did not cling when she released him. Torchay greeted him with a backslap, Obed with a bow.

“How are you?” Kallista led him back to the sitting area. “You’re walking well. Very well. You look good.”

“Do I?” He turned his face to her.

“You do.” She patted his cheek, urged him into the chair Viyelle had vacated, submerging her guilt for leaving him behind in bustling. She sat again, next to Joh on the sofa. “What have you been doing since we saw you last?”

“Learning to walk again.” Gweric seemed to look around the room. “Where is Fox? And Stone?” He frowned accusingly at Kallista. “None of your Tibrans are here.”

“Aisse hasn’t had her baby yet. She couldn’t travel as fast as I needed to.” Kallista left out unnecessary information. “Fox and Stone are with her and the twins.”

Gweric’s frown softened slightly. “They’re coming, though?”

“Slowly, but yes. What of you? How do you like Arikon? Which academy are you attending?”