The Cause of Death (15 page)

None of that mattered, however--or was allowed to matter. The charges against Uncle were confirmed and he was forced into exile at lightning speed. The rapidity with which he was found guilty stood in stark contrast to the years, the decades, it took to get the conviction overturned and the case thrown out.

And there was one other minor point that had its part to play in the story: his challenger was one Caldon Saffeer, the younger son of a minor noble family with a tenuous connection to the house of the High Thelek. But a whole series of unexpected events--deaths, scandals, marriages, adoptions, even a divorce--had disqualified a whole host of other claimants, and the upshot was that young Caldon Saffeer had ascended to the title of High Thelek, ranking only behind the Thelm himself.

Even one so daring as Uncle Bindulan had felt it would be unwise to risk a homecoming when it might embarrass someone as high-ranking, and as ruthless, as the High Thelek. To call his exile "voluntary" was putting quite a bold face on things indeed.

But it would not do for her to say all that before the Thelm. "As you know, Great Thelm, the later details of the case would have proven somewhat awkward to a great noble. It was, in part, to save the noble grave and needless embarrassment that my relation elected to stay away."

"I have heard versions of the story from both families in the past, of course," said the Thelm. "I would observe that both sides choose their facts very carefully, and use even greater care in how they present their versions of events. Such as choosing to continue in exile due to one's kindly concern over embarrassing the scion of a great family--who is also a deadly enemy."

Zahida sat up straight, and forced herself to be calm. "Permit me to suggest that choosing one's facts and phrasings carefully is an ancient, honorable, and common skill among our people--and a necessary one, given how long our memories are, and how our families remember for us, after we are gone." She felt both her hearts thumping wildly, and with good reason. She was taking her life in her hands to say such things.

The Thelm smiled grimly. "Our noble families are so intertwined one with the other, both by alliance and enmity, that we
need
polite fictions if we are to be able to function at all." He gestured to indicate both of them. "This audience could last until dawn, each of us naming a slight or a failing committed by my ancestor against yours, or the other way round." He fluffed his ears out and let them drop back into the relaxed position. "Too much history," he said. "That's our problem. Far too much history." He stood in thought for a moment, then turned back to her.

"I will now tell you a secret--or at least a fact that is not yet common knowledge. You will likely learn it at a later time anyway, and if I do not reassure you now, you will then likely be quite alarmed, fearing that I might have taken offense at the words you have just spoken. You must know that my own relations with the High Thelek Caldon Saffeer recently deteriorated to the point where there was some serious possibility of
our
fighting a duel to resolve the matter."

Zahida felt her hearts suddenly pounding against her spine-shields. She would not have dared speak of Bindulan's troubles with Saffeer if she had known such a thing. The Thelm was right. He might well have thought she was mocking him in some complicated, subtle, very Reqwar Pavlavian way, as if she had said to the Thelm
my uncle paid the price of exile, but you avoid the duel with no consequence
. Besides which, even an oblique reference to the Thelm in a duel was a reference to the Thelm's possible death. "I--I had no idea," she said numbly.
The Thelm seriously contemplating a duel
? How could that be? Or was it merely one of the Thelek's hyperinvolved schemes, a bluff that had gone a bit out of control?

"I am sure you did not," said the Thelm. "But now that you do know, I would ask you to keep the knowledge quiet--though I am sure it will quickly spread far and wide. And be confident that I have not taken offense. But you are here on a matter of some urgency, and you are no doubt straining at the lead, wishing that your Thelm would stop talking and let you get on with it." He gestured for her to speak, and began to pace up and down the room.

She paused in a vain attempt to calm herself, then spoke. "Great Thelm, my great unc--my relative in exile sent me a message. Two human lawkeepers, agents of what they call the Bureau of Special Investigations, are on their way to Reqwar."

Thelm Lantrall stiffened, straightened up, and turned to face her. "On their way here? Now?"

"Yes, Great Thelm. In response to a message--a message that was far too short, and was badly translated and extremely garbled by the time it got to BSI. My relation speculates that it was sent by the High Prosecutor's Office."

"I knew that the message--or at least
a
message--was sent. But no one told me they were coming," he said quietly, and turned his back on her again.

Zahida knew he had not been told. No doubt some underling indebted to this or that family opposed to the Thelm had misfiled the message "accidentally." That sort of game was played all the time. What shocked her was that the Thelm had simply
admitted
that no had one told him. He had made no effort, in front of a complete stranger of only middling rank from a suspect family, to make it seem otherwise. He was in effect admitting there was no longer any point even in
pretending
he was in control.

"But why send lawkeepers?" the Thelm asked, after a few moments' thought. "The facts in the case are painfully clear to all. Certainly nothing needs to be investigated."

"The message does not ask for lawkeepers, but for a negotiator," she said. "I have not seen the original version, but, at a guess, the message was translated two or three times into intermediate languages as it was passed along, losing detail and precision each time. My relation believes the message started out as a request for official witnesses to whatever punishment was decided, but the term 'witnesses' was somehow mistranslated to 'negotiators' along the way. The message was delivered to the BSI, the lawkeepers office--an office that also handles such things as negotiating prisoner escorts and exchanges. He speculates that the humans assumed the message was intended as a request for such services."

"I see," said the Thelm. "In short, the usual level of care and attention to duty was applied in this case."

"Yes, my Thelm." There seemed little else to say to that point, but there were other issues to raise. "Uncle Bin--my relative--believes that good may come of all this. By chance, he is personally acquainted with one of the agents who is on the way, and gives a very positive report of him. My relative believes there is at least a hope the BSI agents could resolve things cleanly, honorably, and in a manner that would satisfy the various parties--at least to the point where they wouldn't complain too loudly."

"How that could be?" the Thelm asked. "These agents are members of a well-intentioned but not particularly overcompetent Younger Race--not magicians or master diplomats. I have the greatest respect for Georg Hertzmann, as should be obvious. But it should be equally obvious that he is an exceptional human--and
he
has found no way out."

"I agree the chance is small that the humans might find a way--but the chance is there."

"I concede your point," said the Thelm. "And, exile or not, I have always respected the judgment and opinions of Bindulan Halztec." He smiled at her. "You see, I spoke his name, and
still
the Keep did not crumble away into dust. But you sought this audience with great urgency. All of what you have said is important, yes. But what of it is of such immediate importance that you undertook the right of Noble's Risk?"

"Great Thelm, the human agents are on their way now, and have been summoned by your government, in your name--though without your knowledge. We do not know
why
they are coming--but we hope, and it is just barely possible, that they can find a way out of our problems. But are there not, Great Thelm, those who have considered the changed circumstances regarding your hypothetical successor?"

Hypothetical successor
was the proper euphemism for the heir to the Thelmship, as it was improper to refer to the death of the Thelm except in the most indirect way possible. Zahida was starting to remember why she had stayed away from court so long. The need to speak so carefully was simply exhausting. "Might there not be those who would learn of the human lawkeepers' arrival, and fear that they might represent a
threat
to hopes, however improper, that had suddenly been raised?"
In other words, the High Thelek is going to try to kill them before they can land and reach territory you control directly
, she thought.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could just say that
?

The Thelm's expression told Zahida that she had managed to shock him once again. "Yes," he said. "You are right. Quite right. These humans have been summoned in our name and are likely flying into danger." He thought for a moment, then looked to Zahida. "Honor requires that they be protected. It is clear you have given this some thought. What do you propose that I do?"

"First, honored Thelm, it might be wise to do nothing."
Something we've all gotten very good at
. "It is at least possible that those who might wish them harm are not yet aware they are coming. Any attempt on your part to alert forces to defend the humans could well serve to alert those who might wish to harm the humans."

"Agreed," said the Thelm. "At the same time, we must be ready to act if we should learn they
have
found out about the lawkeepers. But act in what way? Honor requires that we protect those summoned in our name, but I cannot risk open confrontation with High Thelek Caldon Saffeer right now."

It was still another admission so bald and frank that it shocked Zahida. "I do not understand," she said.

"I shall speak plain and rough, so as to be clear," the Thelm replied. "If it begins, where does it end?" he asked. "What if I call out a guard of defense for the humans and send them to the spaceport to await their landing, and the High Thelek finds an excuse for not recognizing the guard force's authority--or what if he simply claims that mere humans are not entitled to such an honor? What if his operatives prevent my guards from entering the spaceport, and my guards quite rightly insist--and then one side or the other fires a weapon? What happens then?"

Zahida abandoned her caution of speech. If the Thelm could speak "plain and rough," so could she. "Then there will be a fight, and one side or the other will win, at least for the moment," she said, "and the nature of the outcome might well determine if the fight will stop then and there--or if it will widen."

"Exactly," said the Thelm. "If it escalates, and keeps on escalating, if no one can call a halt, then it
could
set off a civil war. I might be deposed, or the High Thelek might be brought low, and never rise again--or perhaps both things could happen, and some new power center would come into being."

"But," said Zahida, "all of that is unlikely. The
most
likely outcome is that your force will defeat the Thelek's, in part because you'd send a strong force, but also because at least some of his troops will be unwilling to draw arms against the Thelm. Precious few of
your
soldiery will be unwilling to draw arms against the High Thelek. There is a risk of one of several bad outcomes if you send a force and it fails, but the force is far more likely to succeed.

"Further, if you do not take the risk, if you do
not
send a guard of defense, because you fear it
might
fail--then the High Thelek has won already, because the danger of offending him has taken precedence over doing what honor requires." Zahida drew in her breath and dared not move. The words she had spoken were all true--she had no doubt of that. But nor did she have any doubt that they could also be her death warrant if the Thelm was of such a mind. She still was under the threat of Noble's Risk, after all.

"You speak in dangerous ways, daughter of Reqwar," said the Thelm. "There have been higher-born than you silenced for speaking far less than you have."

"I know that full well, Great Thelm."

"So be it. 'A dangerous answer is the child of a deadly question.' But it would be wise to go no further down that road." He flicked his ears forward and back, dismissing the topic and turning toward another.

"The danger of inaction is greater than that of action--but alerting our enemies needlessly is the greatest danger of all. Furthermore, we do not yet know when or where the humans will arrive. Nor do I wish to deploy armed soldiery first. If our enemies do not have forces deployed, but saw ours on the march, that might be all that was required to tip the balance and send their militia into the street."

The Thelm considered for a moment. "I will order a guard of defense to be prepared," he said, "but quietly. It will be next to impossible to do it quickly
and
quietly, but I will do what I can. Once they are organized, I can hold them in readiness at their barracks, ready to deploy. We must hope the humans do not attempt a landing before the guard is ready and trouble does not start before the guards can be deployed."

"But, honored Thelm--what if they
do
arrive sooner? Suppose trouble
does
begin without warning?"

"Then a guard of defense will not be of any use."

"But what would be useful?" she asked.

But before the Thelm could speak, the answer came to her, clear and certain. It was something old, half-forgotten.

But something that just might save their future.

TEN
WORK-AROUNDS