Battle: The House War: Book Five (80 page)

“An attempt, at least, would be a sign of good faith,” The Morriset countered.

“On my part, yes. On yours? Highly doubtful. Terafin has worked hard to amass its fortunes, and it has been intelligent in both the husbanding of its resources and the acceptance of its various treaties. I will not throw away decades of work as a sop to fear, be that fear my own or others.”

He smiled. “And if we spoke, not of the usual concessions, but of some pact—in writing—that assures The Ten you will not use your inexplicable magic against us in future?”

“I would be willing to enter into a binding treaty that prevented the use of all magic by The Ten. All magic.”

His smile cooled. “That is not a possibility. Terafin has chosen to retain a First Circle mage exclusively, and if other Houses do not have the incentive to offer similar contracts to the Order, they nonetheless retain the services of the magi. If The Ten chose to strip themselves of such minor—and regular—advantages, the merchant houses would not.”

“No? A pity. I do not intend to surrender very real political advantage in return for theoretical support. Nor do I intend to hobble the activities of my House. There is no way to enforce conformance to such an agreement, and I am not of a mind to offer the trappings of an agreement without substance.

“I will remain Terafin. If unanimity is required to give the Kings consent to remove Terafin from the Council of The Ten and its role, in future, as one of the only Houses granted laws of exception, they will not have it.”

“It would make a mess of the Gathering,” The Tamalyn pointed out. Jewel nodded; she could practically hear The Berrilya grinding his teeth. “There are Ten days, one for each of The Ten. If The Terafin could be removed from the Council of The Ten, the House would still have its historical significance, and the Gathering is intended to be a reminder of the historic choices of the leaders of each of our Houses—from the first to join the banner of the first Kings, to the last.”

“Yes, thank you, Tamalyn,” The Berrilya said stiffly.

Shadow sidled over to The Tamalyn’s chair. He glanced once over his shoulder at Jewel, who exhaled sharply and pursed her lips. Since she didn’t actually reprimand him, he dropped his head into The Tamalyn’s lap.

It was a sign. The Korisamis rose; more than half of the Council members were now on their feet in the sparsely populated chamber. “It is not our habit, Terafin, to offer trust. We are, and will remain, rivals. But we are also peers in a very exceptional way. If you are willing to overlook The Wayelyn’s deployment, we will set the question of the song itself aside.

“I will, as Korisamis, set aside the more pressing concerns. I understand that your cat is a ferocious guard—but at the moment, he is only that.”

Although Shadow didn’t lift his head, the entire table could hear his hiss.

“You are correct; we employ men and women who could be—and are—considered dangerous. We consider ourselves the masters of our own domains; we have the protection of the laws of exemption for matters that concern only members of our own Houses. And we are, as you are aware, concerned about the structural changes within
Avantari
. Not one of us has seen the entirety of those changes—which deepens, rather than lessens, that concern. The Kings have been extremely reticent, and the information that has come from the Order of Knowledge and the few garrulous servants within the palace has been disappointingly brief and vague.

“I will say for the record that should my House and my heir come under the same attack that
Avantari
and the Twin Princes faced on the first day of The Terafin’s funeral, I grant all necessary permission in advance for your intervention.” His smile was dry. “I cannot say, with any certainty, that Korisamis trusts Terafin in matters that arise between our two Houses. I can say that I trust you to act within the confines of the law; between two Houses, of course, laws of exemption do not apply.

“But I will take the risk and say I trust your interests to lie, squarely, with the Empire. I do not believe that you have summoned demons; they seem so intent on your death I cannot conceive of a cessation of hostilities. Intent or no, they have failed.”

“Their failure was not without cost,” The Darias said. “Were The Terafin to locate herself outside of Averalaan, the attack during the victory parade might never have taken place.”

“And she would be without the ability to defend herself. Come, Darias; we do not counsel murder and we do not counsel suicide.”

“It would not be the first time in our history that a Council member has ruled from beyond the hundred holdings.”

“It would be, technically, the second; it would, however, be a first for House Terafin. The suggestion has already been dismissed.” Throughout this discussion, The Korisamis watched The Terafin. She weathered his regard in silence.

“Given the testimony, however reluctantly offered, of the Order of Knowledge, our position must be clear. Korisamis will not countenance the removal of a legal head of House Terafin. If she will not abdicate, she will remain Terafin.”

“Very well,” The Berrilya said. Before he could continue, Jewel spoke.

“If you intend to call a vote, I will speak against it.”

“A vote?”

“This is not a matter for Council vote. I am not present as a penitent; I am not present as a supplicant. I own my position on this Council. Working in concert, there might be some small chance of allaying the fears of the Kings should they move against my House in an unprecedented fashion; there is clearly no concerted effort here. A vote is therefore a measure that is both superfluous and insulting.”

Both brows rose, but in a measured, steady way. Jewel didn’t even blink. Shadow, however purred. Next time, she was going to leave the cat at home.

She reached out with her right hand, and Teller, without a pause, placed a sheaf of documents across her palm. “If we are done, we might move on to other matters of business. I have a question for The Morriset about his Western route and some difficulties that have occurred.”

* * *

Less than a half hour later, the Council session was brought to a close. The Kalakar offered her congratulations with an appraising smile and a slight nod. The Tamalyn lingered to ask a few questions about the
Ellariannatte
.

She spoke briefly with The Morriset, and to her surprise, found herself the recipient of The Berrilya’s soft-spoken, “Well done, Terafin.” It should not have mattered; if anything it should have annoyed her. It didn’t.

Avandar was not angry; he seemed—for Avandar—pleased with Jewel’s performance. He did not, of course, say so. Nor did he leave when the room emptied, because the Guildmaster of the Order and the Terafin House Mage made no move to retreat.

Sigurne offered Jewel a brief bow. “This is not over,” she said softly.

It surprised Jewel. “The politics of the Council? No, of course not. It is never over.”

Sigurne shook her head. “The Kings.”

“You’ve spoken with them.”

“Members of my Order have been in session with the Kings at their convenience since your last audience. Not all of the members summoned consider this a blessing, and they are at pains to point it out—to me, of course. In front of the Kings they are commendably well-behaved.”

Jewel glanced at Meralonne.

“APhaniel’s service has been, given his contract with Terafin, somewhat more difficult to secure. He is, however, expected to speak with the Crowns shortly.” Her glance at the mage was pointed.

Meralonne, predictably, blew rings of smoke into the air in nested circles. He did not, however, contradict Sigurne’s statement. Instead, after a long pause spent studying his own brief creations, he turned to Jewel. “You have not yet made your decision.”

Jewel frowned. “Is there a decision, APhaniel, that I am required to make?”

His frown was sharper and more irritable. “If you play at ignorance, Terafin, I am your servant. I will allow it.”

“I am not playing at ignorance,” she replied. “I am not playing, at the moment, at all.”

“Where is Celleriant?”

Her frown deepened.

“Where are your cats?”

Shadow, standing by the doors and complaining—in as quiet a voice as he possessed—about
boredom
, twitched.

“Where, Terafin, is your mount? You cannot leave them behind.”

“They are all absent in the wilderness,” she replied. “At my command.”

“And you have not chosen to summon them.”

“I have Shadow and I have Avandar; I have my Chosen. More is hardly required.”

He let the embers of his pipe burn down as he met and held her gaze, his silver eyes unblinking. Wind moved through the nets that bound her hair; her hair was so stiff, it didn’t cause any strands to land, as they often did, in her eyes.

“I will travel with you,” he finally said.

“No,” she replied, without pause for thought. “You will not. You are required here.”

“It will not be safe,” was his answer.

“If it is not safe for
you, APhaniel—”

“I did not say the danger was to me.” He turned and offered Sigurne his arm.

Sigurne took it. To Jewel’s surprise, her hand, as it rested in the crook of the magi’s elbow, was visibly trembling. Although the Council session’s early start and the discussions that she had missed were upsetting, they were not nearly as unsettling as that visible sign of unease.

It is not lack of ease
, Avandar said, watching as Sigurne and Meralonne at last left the chamber.
It is fear
.

* * *

The carriage was silent as it returned The Terafin and her right-kin to the Terafin manse. Shadow was not, but he was on the outside of the carriage, where he couldn’t be easily corrected. Jewel wondered if passing strangers considered his inappropriate whining—for he
was
whining, and loudly—amusing, frustrating or frightening. Fear was almost beyond her.

He almost killed you
.

It was true. He had. In the wilderness of her contested lands, in the lee of the Warden of Dreams, he was the only one of the three to present a very real threat. Had Adam not been by her side, he would have succeeded. Where he might then have gone—if he had retained any freedom at all—she couldn’t say.

He was gentle with Ariel. He was affectionate with Teller and Finch; he treated Haval with something approaching respect. He was at his most difficult with Avandar, Celleriant, and his brothers, although he often stepped on Angel or Carver if they happened to be nearby.

Carver
.

She swallowed. She had not lied to Meralonne; there was no decision demanded of her. Not by the Kings, nor by the Council of The Ten; not by her den or the House Council. But she had not been entirely truthful, either. She was waiting. She was waiting in the role of Terafin for some sign, some word, of her missing den.

She was waiting, with far more power and far more responsibility, as she had waited for some sign of Lefty in far poorer streets than the one along which the carriage ran.

It wasn’t the same, of course. She had
known
that Lefty was gone. She’d known it. But knowing in that bone-deep way hadn’t made the hope any easier to bear, because she did hope, and yet had none. She did not have the certain, talent-born sense that Carver would never return.

But Snow and Night had not returned. The Winter King had not. Nor had Celleriant. The odds that the two cats were actually
looking
were low. She imagined they would remember Carver between distractions, if then. But while there was any hope that Carver still lived, the Winter King would not return. He had not.

It was seldom that Jewel prayed; the silence of the carriage created a space for it. She closed her eyes and bent head. She wanted nothing so much as a glimpse of the Winter King, because—unless she commanded it—he would not return without Carver.

* * *

Teller returned to the right-kin’s office, and Jewel joined him; much of her daily schedule had been put on hold because of the indeterminate length of the Council meeting. Teller, in theory, had done the same with his own, but a message indicating his absence had clearly failed to propagate; there were people waiting in the office. Jewel froze in the door, until she ascertained that none of these people were the Master of the Household Staff.

Barston was already rising to tender her a perfect bow. “Terafin.”

“Barston. For the moment, the Council matters have been resolved to the satisfaction of The Ten.”

His smile was slight, but genuine. “Right-kin,” he said, to catch Teller’s attention. When there was anyone else in the office, he did not use Teller’s name.

Teller, about to retreat into his office, pivoted and turned back to his secretary’s desk.

“Patris Araven sent a message requesting an appointment.”

“I see. When did he request such a meeting?”

Barston cleared his throat. “This afternoon. An hour after lunch.”

Since lunch in the busy office was a moving target, Teller frowned and glanced at Jewel. Jewel flicked fingers in rapid den-sign. “You accepted?”

“I accepted contingent upon the right-kin’s timely return from
Avantari
,” Barston replied. “If the right-kin wishes, I will reschedule the appointment.”