Michelle West - The Sun Sword 03 - The Shining Court (7 page)

"If I had any choice, I would keep you here. But it comes. Remember this: I left my House to ride with the sons of Veralaan."

"What am I going to tell The Terafin?"

"The truth," he said softly, his voice now as thin as the facade he wore. "She will accept it."

The Terafin sat across the length of the familiar, spotless table. Nothing adorned it; no books, no paperwork, no inkstands or quill, no lamp. But the lights that ringed the edge of the open glasswork above it cast soft reflections. Hers. Jewel ATerafin's.

She had chosen to forgo the domicis; Morretz, seldom excluded, had made his feelings plain by a slight compression of lips even as he bowed. Avandar, on the other hand, had darkened. Had, in fact, turned from The Terafin to Jewel, forcing them both to acknowledge that Jewel was his chosen master, no matter whose gold had paid for—and continued to pay for—the contract.

Jewel, however, was more politic.

Or perhaps more stubborn.

The two women sat in the room, experience, as always, the thing that separated them. But not, The Terafin reflected, as much as it once had. They were older. Wiser, perhaps.

Alone.

She waited for the younger woman to speak first.

Jewel acknowledged the right rank gave her; she spoke. "I'm going South ahead of the armies."

Amarais inclined her head. "I suspected you might. Commander Allen will not, I think, be pleased."

"He might be."

"Oh?"

"If I don't go South, he loses the war. If I go, he has a small chance of winning it."

The Terafin smiled at that. Commander Allen was not an obviously proud man, and he had never been boastful; his way, rather, was to let louder men underestimate him until they had no choice but to acknowledge his superiority. He was not, however, a man to accept that he had either a slender chance of winning or that his chance amounted to a single woman with no knowledge whatever of the strategies or tactics of war.

"And besides, it means I won't have to deal with the Hawk and the Kestrel, and I can tell you, he wasn't looking forward to
that
."

The Terafin's smile was the only natural thing about the moment, and it faded. They sat alone as if they had always been two solitudes.

"Avandar, of course, will go with you."

"Of course."

Silence.

"Will you take care of my den?"

"Your den, Jewel, are as capable of taking care of themselves as my Chosen."

Silence.

It was awkward. It could hardly be anything but awkward. There was an unspoken assumption that neither woman wished to touch, but that had to be touched upon. The Terafin bowed her head. Took a deep breath. Smiled, the smile itself more of a wince than an expression of happiness or mirth.

"I do not think that I will be here to greet you upon your return."

Jewel had been fidgeting, her eyes drawn from one side of the library's expanse to the other, flicking here and there off book and shelf and table surface. It hadn't been obvious to The Terafin until the moment her words were exposed to the silence— because at that moment, Jewel became part of the silence.

She broke the stillness by rising.

"Isn't that why you came?" The Terafin said, pressing her, rising in turn. "To say good-bye?"

The younger woman's face lost all color, all movement; became a mask, but at that a poor one—one that was translucent, transparent, one that could so easily be seen through. If it weren't for its stiffness, it might have been no mask at all. There were tears.

She did not shed them. At least she had that much control.

"Yes. Yes, Terafin, I came to say good-bye."

"Without actually saying those words?"

The younger ATerafin looked away. "Without actually saying those words."

"Ah."

"You know."

"We know, but Morretz has difficulty acknowledging the eventual end of his service. It is why neither he nor Avandar is present."

Jewel sat.

The Terafin did not; she did not need to. "Have you no comfort to offer me?"

"I'm not much for comfort. Ask Angel. Or Carver."

"Or Teller? Or Daine?"

Jewel flinched. "I'm not much for offering comfort when there's no comfort to be offered. You don't want it. You don't need it."

"Oh, Jewel," The Terafin said softly, "you see, and you do not see. You're wrong. Tonight, in this room, between the two of us, I need comfort.

"I have looked; I have looked as clearly, as harshly, as I dare. I know the end is coming. Your dreams. The House's. My death is not natural. It is not accidental. One of my own will betray me, and if I could see clearly which one, I wouldn't be facing certain death. I see a war beyond the stretch and reach of my life that would have required all of my cunning and all of my experience to survive.

"This House—it is not me. But while I live, it is mine. I have been told by others with the particular experience I lack that my feelings are not unlike a parent's ferocity of affection for her child." She looked up; the stained glass was dark in the quiet night. From this vantage, the heavens weren't unreachable; they simply ceased to exist.

And it was not from the gods that she would make the only demand that would ease her.

"I had hoped that you would come to me. And you have." She looked across the table at the stricken younger woman.

"Terafin—"

"You know what I ask of you."

Jewel's mouth opened. Closed. She nodded.

"Offer me farewells, if that will ease you. But offer me something that will ease
me
. I have never asked it, Jewel. But this is the point of no return. When you leave, when you walk through the gates with your domicis, the ties between us are sundered although no one else will know it. I have given you all that I can give, and I have been pleased, even proud of what you have achieved.

"But what you have achieved pales against what you
must
achieve.

"This House—"

Jewel backed away from the table.

The Terafin thought she would flee. Was surprised at how much it cut when she did, in fact, walk quickly and stiffly toward the doors.

Was surprised at how much it meant when she stopped there, her hands on either side of the crack between them, her forehead pressed against the heavy wood. She lifted her head. Turned.

Her cheeks were wet with tears.

This,
this
, was why she had demanded, and received, privacy. Because The Terafin could not be seen to be weak, no matter how unnatural such a facade was.

She said, "I don't want you to die."

The Terafin said nothing.

"I don't want to accept what you offer because accepting— accepting it means that I've accepted your death."

"It is not an offer, Jewel. Make no mistake. It is a plea. It is a command. It is a responsibility. But an offer? No. Nothing so simple."

"Terafin—"

"No."

"Amarais."

The Terafin bowed. "Yes. Here, in this room, between us, that is all I am. I have no idea how I will die; I accept that I will, in your absence. It pains me. I confess a certain fear, a morbid curiosity, an unsettling anger. I will, of course, fight it. That is my nature. But I will have your word, here, or I will have your name."

It took a moment for the threat to sink in. She was patient. Wished that she could be more patient—but the time for waiting had passed.
I had hoped
, she thought, staring at this woman who, born into power, might have been her younger self,
that you would come to me on your own
.

Ah, well.

"This House means many things to me. But it stands for something. The Sword is
Justice
, and it
is
the House Sword."

"What do you want from me?"

"Everything. Protect Alowan. Preserve my Chosen, if they will it. Preserve my House from the war that will divide it if they do not. Become Terafin, Jewel. Become
The
Terafin."

"You're The Terafin. I know no other."

It was spoken so quietly The Terafin could have chosen not to hear the tremor in the voice, the break, subtle and slight, between syllables.

"You will know no other while I live," she said quietly, stating the obvious because Jewel ATerafin needed to hear it. "Isn't that what this is about? In you, tonight, I see my death. I
hate
it." The vehemence of the word surprised her. She swallowed. Looked away. Looked back; she owed Jewel that much. "But I also see life, of a sort. The life of
my
House. You are not who I am. But we value the same things. You will never destroy what I have built."

The younger woman was weeping now, silent and open-eyed. It was painful to watch. She watched, however; those tears were both for her and cried in her stead.

"Jewel Markess ATerafin, I name you my heir. You will serve the House and you will serve the Sword, and if the gods will it, they will serve you."

The tears were slow to stop, but they stopped.

"I will make no announcement. The House is already divided; the war is already in motion. But my death will deliver the news to the four least likely to accept it."

"To the five," Jewel said faintly, attempting to smile. The humor did not fall flat; Amarais accepted it for what it was. "Avandar will be so pleased."

"Yes."

"Morretz?"

She looked away. "He is not what you require. He will not, I think, serve another. Not for years, if at all. The option is open to teach, and many men who choose a life of service, rather than the contracts that are more common, often retire to teach others when the life of their chosen master is abruptly ended.

"Jewel."

The moment stretched out until it was so thin something had to break.

Jewel ATerafin slid, by painful inches, to one knee. "I give you my word," she said softly. "The House will
be
Terafin, and I—" silence.

Amarais waited.

The tears stopped completely, although their tracks lit her face in wide lines.

"And I will rule- it."

Avandar was waiting for Jewel. The doors to the hall outside of this library had never seemed so heavy, and flight from them so necessary, in all of her years of service. From the first day, struggling for the perfect control that would give her the key to the House if she impressed the cold, forbidding woman on the other side of the table, to the weekly meeting called among the quiet walls of books, this had been the private recess of The Terafin, the place of judgment, the citadel of strength.

Gone, of course.

She wished, desperately wished, that The Terafin had chosen any other room in which to give her orders. In which to make her pleas.

"Jewel."

She'd been avoiding his gaze.

His
gaze, she could. He served her, after all. She shook her head, looking at the floor as it passed beneath her moving feet.

But dammit, she was angry, and there was no one else to take it out on. She wheeled on him, disappointed for once that he'd kept his distance. "You wanted to serve a person of power," she said, surprised she could force the words from between her teeth, "so you'd better bloody well be up to it."

His gaze was cool. Condescending, in fact.

Just in case she missed this—and to give him his due, she often did—he said, "Are you finished yet?"

She almost slapped him.

"If I am to serve a person of power, Jewel, you had better be prepared to become one. This… display… is unbecoming, even in a person of the rank you have now."

She was silent because he was right. She'd even forgive him for it someday, although the aggregate of his offenses had piled up enough over the years that it didn't have to be any time soon.

"Let's go," she snapped, turning on her heel. "If we're leaving tomorrow, we've got a lot to do before we go."

"We do." He was quiet a moment. "I must speak with Morretz before we leave."

"Morretz?"

"I believe that's what I said."

"Why?"

Avandar didn't answer. He wasn't going to. He never answered questions about his past. But the futility of asking seemed comfortably familiar. She asked.

His silence, stony and completely impenetrable, made his annoyance plain. She shrugged. "Fine. Go talk with Morretz. I'm going back to the den."

To tell them what?

She froze a moment, hovering between choices that all seemed bad.

And because she froze, she was close enough to hear him.

"Jewel," he said softly, "I am sorry."

Torvan ATerafin came to her.

She had requested his company because she hadn't the right to command. Not yet.

But he came as if the request was a command, damn him.

"Jewel?" he said, as he came to a stop in the narrow doorway of her kitchen. A lamp was burning, even though the day was bright through the windows.

"Don't tell me. I look awful."

"Awful wasn't the word I was going to use."

"Oh?"

"It's politer." He frowned. At the lamp. Gods, he didn't miss a damn thing.

"Yes," she said, because she knew he wouldn't ask. "It's magicked. Avandar's little gift. What I have to say to you I can't afford to have anyone else hear."

"Where is Avandar?"

She was silent.

He matched her silence with a frown. "I heard that you went to speak to The Terafin."

"I did."

"I heard that you'd argued."

"Good."

"She hasn't revoked your name."

"No."

"Or your crest."

"No."

"Jewel?"

"Yes?"

"You didn't argue."

"We did, but it wasn't much of one. She has all the cards. I don't even have enough left over to make a bet."

"Why did you want to speak with me?"

"Because," she said, rising, "I'm leaving. Tomorrow."

His brows furrowed in confusion; she might have been speaking Torra. She could.

"We'll save the fond farewells," she said, after five minutes had elapsed and the oil had noticeably diminished. "I was to go South with the armies."

"I'd heard that. I hadn't heard they were moving."

"Well, now I'm going as… advance scout."