The Water Road (5 page)

Throughout the day, Antrey grew
increasingly nervous as she went about her work. The days before the Grand
Council began its session were always stressful. There was so much preparation
to be ready for the session, to make sure everything was in place and
contingencies could be dealt with quickly and without much difficulty. When she
first started working for Alban, Antrey did not fully understand why all of
this was necessary. He tried to explain to her how it was better to work hard
before an event happened because that would make the event itself easier to
manage. It was not until she had been through a few sessions of the Grand
Council and seen Alban rely on his preparation that she understood. It still
made for a great deal of work on her part.

She was also worrying about the
reception that night. Antrey had never been part of any public event before.
She rarely made appearances in the Grand Council chamber and, when she did so,
they were limited to bringing in or taking out something for Alban. The thought
of milling about with strangers—highly placed important strangers, no less—tied
her stomach in knots. She worried less about being a part of any particular
conversation than being the subject of many of them.

Antrey finished her work early and
returned to the apartment to prepare for the reception. She bathed for the
second time today, something usually reserved for the wake of some messy
accident or another. As she had never before had need for formal attire, Antrey
lacked the kind of gown that was truly appropriate for the occasion. Given her
build, borrowing something from Onwen was out of the question. She did the best
she could with her newest and nicest dress, which was simple and tasteful. She
doubted if she could ever look elegant, but wanted at least to appear
respectable.

Alban was waiting for her in the
kitchen when she came downstairs. “You look very nice, Antrey,” he said with a
smile.

“Thank you, sir,” she answered. She
nodded in greeting to Onwen, who sat at the table, still under the sway of some
illness.

“Let’s be on our way, then,” Alban
said. He opened the door and motioned for Antrey to step outside.

As they walked across the courtyard,
bathed in the mixed glow of the moon and gaslights, Alban said, “I know,
Antrey, that you probably aren’t looking forward to this evening.”

She started to protest, but he cut
her off before it came out.

“Truth be told, I’m not very fond
of these events. They’re very political. It’s more important to be sure and
shake the right hands and make the correct introductions than it is to discuss
something substantively. Honestly, there’s more thought-provoking discussion at
the Hare than we will hear tonight.”

Antrey smiled slightly and stifled
a laugh at the thought.

“Nonetheless, it’s important to
make an appearance at such events. You and I as public servants, not the ones
that wield the power, are here in order to say we have been here, so we won’t overstay
our welcome. Does that sound all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Antrey said.

The reception was being held in a
large foyer on the second floor of one of the subsidiary buildings. Antrey
remembered that it had once been the home for the Confederation’s trade delegation,
but now served as overflow office space for the Grand Council itself. As a
result of its heritage, the room was filled with deep
,
rich
wooden textures, with fine carvings climbing the wall. Candles flew high
overhead, providing an endless supply of light that reminded Antrey of dusk on
the eastern shore. They arrived slightly behind schedule and the room was
already a buzz of multiple conversations reverberating around the oaken hall.

“Come on,” Alban said, tugging
gently on her elbow, “we’ll find some drinks.”

They walked over to the other side
of the large circular room, to a table manned by a pair of young men. Sharply
dressed, one held a wine bottle in his hand, the other some kind of fruit-based
punch. Alban picked up an empty glass at the table and gave it to Antrey before
taking one for himself. “Try the wine,” he said. “It’s from Guild vineyards
along the northern portion of the River Innis. Best in Altreria, in my
opinion.” He held out his glass and it was filled with a clear, crisp white wine.

Antrey did the same. She looked at
the man pouring the wine, studying him. He paid no attention to her, aside from
dealing with the empty glass she held. It was impossible to say if that was
particularly due to who she was or merely part of his job. She thanked him when
the glass was full, but that prompted no response. She turned and faced the
crowd while she took a sip of wine. Antrey had not had much experience with
wine, beside the common table wines Alban would bring home every now and then.
It was beyond her experience to call this the best in the land, but it was very
good.

“All right,” Alban said after they
had observed the crowd and sipped their drinks for a moment. “Time to get this
over with, yes?”

Antrey nodded and followed him as
he plunged into the crowd. Before they got very far, a voice called out in
their direction.

“Alban!” the voice said, from off
in the crowd to their right.

Alban stopped just long enough to
turn in that direction before he was confronted by a large man with dark-green
skin. A smaller but similarly hued woman hung off his arm. “So good to see you
again, old friend!” He wrapped his free arm around Alban in a brief hug. Alban
returned the favor.

“Jamil,” Alban said, “it has been a
while since you were in the city. What brings you back to Tolenor?”

“I was talked out of retirement by
the mayor,” the other man said with mock exasperation. “Once you come here,
everyone insists on sending you back.” He laughed. “Where are my manners?” he said,
turning to the woman with him. “This is my wife, Utka. Utka, this is Alban
Ventris, clerk to the Grand Council.”

The woman extended a hand to Alban,
who took it and shook it politely. “My pleasure. And this is Antrey Ranbren,”
he said, turning to her. “She is my assistant with the Grand Council. She’s
been most vital to my work over the past few years.” Jamil ignored the
introduction. Alban continued, “Jamil was a trade missionary from Kerkondala
back when I was a Sentinel. We met more than a few times on the roads. Or what
pass for roads in the Arbor.”

“We were much younger then, were we
not?” Jamil said, with a jovial smile that quickly disappeared. “And perhaps
less prone to eccentricity.”

Alban smiled and took a drink, as
if thrown back on his heels. “We were younger, Jamil, certainly,” he said,
after an awkward pause. “So what brings you back to Tolenor? What task has the
mayor given you?”

Jamil launched into a discussion of
his trade mission, about which Antrey knew nothing and cared little. She stood
beside Alban and sipped her wine. As he spoke with Alban, Jamil kept his gaze
fixed on him alone. It was as if Antrey was not even there. This was a new
sensation for her. Usually her appearance caused strangers to gawk and follow
her through a room. She had come to terms with that years ago. Being treated
like a black hole, a nonentity that could simply be ignored, was more
difficult. She did her best to keep a calm façade for Alban’s benefit, at
least.

Rather than pay attention to
Jamil’s story, Antrey studied Utka. She stood silently behind Jamil. Presumably
she knew all that Jamil was saying, yet she nodded as if hearing it for the
first time. After a few moments, she turned her gaze to Antrey. They said
nothing, but Antrey could sense some shared misery between them. Antrey was
roused from her thoughts by Alban’s hand on her shoulder.

“It was good to see you again,
Jamil,” he said, turning to walk away. “Perhaps we can talk in a few days.”

“That would be good. I might have
to ask you for some help, depending on how things turn out,” Jamil said.

“Come by my office,” Alban said.
Without any other parting words, he and Antrey began to walk away.

As they passed each other, Utka
reached out and grabbed Antrey’s arm. The two women paused, exchanged glances,
and then went their separate ways.

“I apologize for that,” Alban said
as they wound their way around various clutches of people.

“For what?” Antrey asked.

“For Jamil. The way he treated you.
Or didn’t treat you, as the case may be. I can’t go so far as to call him a
good man, but he’s not a bad one. He isn’t the most enlightened of fellows,
however. Even within the Arbor. Try not to let it bother you.”

“I really didn’t notice,” Antrey
said, lying. She appreciated Alban’s attempt to smooth things over, even if it
cost him little.

They had almost reached the other
end of the room when Alban changed direction and intercepted a woman who had
just broken away from a small group. “Galenna!” Alban called out after her. She
stopped, turned, began to walk towards them, and greeted him with a smile.

Antrey surveyed Galenna as she
approached. She looked to be about Alban’s age, with some cracks and wrinkles
evident on her face, which was dominated by bright black eyes that almost
overpowered the pale green of her skin. She was dressed in a formal military
uniform, pale yellow with hints of silver around the collar and cuffs. Although
Antrey did not recognize the insignia, she must be from the Guild. Telebrian
women were not part of the military. While some of the cities in the
Confederation had women fighters, they were more organized as irregulars or
ready militia. A professionally dressed military woman could only be from the
Guild.

“Hello, Alban,” she said, greeting
him with outstretched hands. “How does the evening find you?”

“It finds me well,” he said. “This
is my assistant, Antrey Ranbren. Antrey, this is Galenna, Master of the Guild
of Soldiers and the new member of the Grand Council from the Guilds.”

“Pleased to meet you, councilor,”
Antrey said with a courteous nod.

“Please, call me Galenna,” she said
to Antrey, before quickly shifting attention to Alban. “We’ve known each other
too long to rest on formalities, eh, Alban?”

Alban laughed. “I suppose that’s
true.” He turned to Antrey. “Galenna was the first woman allowed into the
Sentinel corps. They kept her isolated in an outpost on the shore of Great
Basin Lake. They sent all the troublemakers there.”

Galenna’s eyes flitted quickly to
Antrey, but then returned to Alban before she answered. “Which is why that is where
they sent you too, of course.”

“Of course,” Alban said. They
launched into a discussion about Galenna’s recent postings, how she found life
in Tolenor, and a little about the trouble in the Badlands. All the while,
Galenna continued to snatch glances at Antrey. It was if she was afraid to
actually look directly at her and be caught by someone. Unlike Jamil, who was
content to excise her from his reality, Galenna was concerned about Antrey’s
presence. What was her concern? That the trained beast would break its chains
and cause a scene? Antrey sipped her wine slowly and deliberately, breathing
deeply. She was shaken from her observations when she heard her name pop up in
the conversation.

“As Antrey can tell you,” Alban was
saying about something, “the work of the Grand Council can often lose its focus
on real issues and devolve into minutiae.” He paused, expecting either of the
women to pick up the conversation. Galenna looked nervously at Alban and
Antrey, but said nothing.

“Yes, that’s true,” Antrey said,
finally, to fill the silence. “But, to be honest, even the minutiae can be
fascinating.” It was only a partial lie, one designed to inject some levity
into the conversation. It didn’t help.

“Well, I suppose I’ll see firsthand
for myself tomorrow,” Galenna said to Alban. “If you’ll excuse me, old friend,
I’ve had a long day and will have a longer one tomorrow. I must be going. Good
evening.” She turned and walked off before Alban could return the courtesy.

“Wait here for a moment,” Alban
said to Antrey before rushing off after her.

Antrey watched as Alban caught up
with Galenna just as she was about to leave the rotunda. He grabbed her arm and
obviously surprised her. Alban promptly began to tell her something. Antrey couldn’t
hear what was being said, but the tone was clear. He spoke quickly and gestured
with his free hand more than usual. At one point, he shifted his feet to block
Galenna’s view of Antrey, just as she tried to snatch another glance at her.
When Galenna tried to get a word in, Alban cut her off. It was a tense exchange
and it made Antrey nervous. She turned away, back towards the bulk of the
crowd. Alban returned in a few moments, clearly upset.

“What’s wrong, sir?” Antrey asked.

He sighed. “I’m afraid that I must
once again apologize for an acquaintance. And this time, I can make no excuses
on her behalf. Galenna, given all she has accomplished in her life and the
prejudice she has faced, should know better. I am truly sorry, Antrey. I trust
that the entire evening won’t be like this.”

“You should stop apologizing for
the acts of others, sir,” Antrey said. He started to say something else but
closed his mouth without uttering a word. Perhaps Alban was surprised by her
directness. “Neither you nor I can control how others behave or how they react
to me. I am, like it or not, a curiosity, sir. It is enough to know that you
are offended on my behalf.”