03 - The Eternal Rose (19 page)

Keldrey couldn't help himself. He wrapped the boy in his arms and hugged him. “That's not true. It's absolutely wrong."

“I knew your father all my life,” Fox said. “He was a good man, and he
always
wanted you. He protected your mother from outlaws when they had to travel across Adara before you were born. He looked for you every day after your mother ran away from us. He was trying to take you home with him when he died."

Sky clung to Keldrey, sobbing into his shoulder. “They said my mother cut his head off and ran away with it."

Keldrey didn't swear, but it was an effort. Fox had to stand and walk away. Keldrey didn't believe in sugar-coating the truth, even for children, but there were still things they didn't need to know. Too late for that now. “She did,” he said. “But we got it and put it back. Fox is your uncle. I'm your uncle too.” Close enough for the child's understanding. “We're your family, always have been, always will be."

“Will you take me home with you?"

Fox was back. Keldrey turned Sky into the other man's arms to give Fox a turn to hold him. Fox wouldn't come again. The champion holding the chain was getting restless. They couldn't stretch this out much longer.

“We will,” Fox said. “But not today. The new Habadra doesn't want to let you go. There's going to be a trial."

Sky went pale and clutched at Fox. “Will you die?"

“No. But I can't come back to see you tomorrow."

“I'll be back.” The boy's sudden fear bothered Keldrey. What didn't they know about this trial business? “I'm going to come and see you every day until we can take you home with us."

Sky turned solemn blue eyes on Keldrey. “Promise?"

“I promise.” Keldrey hooked his little fingers together for luck, then held one out to Sky who looked puzzled a moment before linking his tiny finger with Keldrey's. Then Keldrey showed him how to hook his own fingers together. “For luck."

“Remember your name.” Fox linked his finger with Sky's and held it. “You are Sky Kyndir, or Sky Varyl, if you want to use your father's Line, no matter what they might call you here. Remember that. You're ours."

The champion rattled the chain, almost staggering the boy. “It is time."

“Right, then.” Keldrey finger-combed Sky's cottony-soft hair into rough order. “What's your name?"

“Sky Varyl."

“Quite right. Don't you forget it.” Keldrey turned him to face the Habadra champion and together the three of them walked back, Fox gathering up chain as they went.

He dropped it into the champion's hand, then put a finger to his lips as Sky gazed longingly up at him. “Remember,” Fox said. “But don't tell."

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Keldrey said. “Promise.” He'd bring along a treat, too. Sky wasn't seriously underfed, but he could use some filling out. A meat roll to start, Keldrey thought. Until they could get him home and feed him up proper.

“Bye.” Sky walked backward, waving shyly as his escort guided him back through the inner gate.

Keldrey and Fox lingered until the boy was lost to view, ignoring the restlessness of the waiting gatekeeper champions.

“He's definitely Stone's boy, then,” Keldrey said when they'd passed far enough down the street for his comfort.

“Doesn't he look like Stone to you?"

“Yeah. Same hair. Same eyes. Different chin though."

“He's young yet.” Fox raised a hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. “He
looks
like Stone to me too."

“So now all we have to do is get him out."

* * * *

Viyelle rapped on the door to the private room Kallista shared with Obed. “My Reinine,” she shouted through the door. “Kallista, you have decisions to make."

“Then make them.” The voice was muffled, strained, oddly altered. But it was definitely Kallista's. The door stayed shut.

Viyelle picked up the nearest small object, an empty cup, and threw it across the room. It didn't shatter, since it was made of metal, but it did bend. Not as satisfying as shattering would have been. Not satisfying at all.

“Give her time to grieve.” Obed folded his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door.

“Why should I?” Viyelle snapped. “Who's giving
me
time to grieve? Stone shared
my
bed, not hers."

She knew her words weren't fair when she said them, but she couldn't stop herself, as if hurting someone else might somehow ease her own hurt. She hugged her pain to her, wallowed in it. “You're just afraid to go back in there since she kicked you out. You're afraid she'll black your other eye."

Obed touched his swollen left eye. They'd all witnessed the shocking event, after the children had been herded out to play, away from the infectious grief of the adults. Obed had followed Kallista into their room and she'd turned on him, shouting at him to leave her alone, hitting him, throwing things. A cup like the one Viyelle had thrown had done the damage to his eye.

Joh hooked his arm around the back of Viyelle's neck and pulled her into an embrace. For a moment, she fought to break free before she realized it was the same behavior she condemned in Kallista. Viyelle sagged instead into Joh's embrace. At least
he
understood how much she suffered.

“Viyelle's right,” Torchay said. “About the decisions needing to be made. Do we take Stone's body home for the funeral? Do we have the funeral here and just take his ashes home? Private funeral or public?"

“We can't leave till we have Sky out of that woman's hands,” Keldrey said. He and Fox had missed Kallista's hysterics.

“So, funeral here.” Viyelle turned in the circle of Joh's arms to keep their comfort around her as she faced the others.

“Private,” Fox said. “Our grief has been displayed enough."

Viyelle made a face. “I agree, but I think there will have to be some sort of public ... something. In Arikon when we get back home. A funeral service without the actual funeral?"

They argued over forms and functions, processions and intercessions and the impossibility of a temple service when the temple was closed to the public, until Viyelle wanted to have a set of hysterics of her own. She was entitled.

“This is useless.” She threw the quill she'd been attempting to take notes with onto the table, spattering it with ink. “Kallista needs to come out of that room and make some decisions. We're not getting anywhere without her."

“You do it,” Torchay said. “You heard her."

“Then stop arguing with me when I try. Damn it, Torchay—” Viyelle didn't get fully underway before he interrupted.

“I know you're hurting, love.” Torchay reached across the table to clasp her hand. “We all are. But we weren't
bound
to Stone like she was.

She felt him die
. That magic link she has to all of us—she felt it break. If she needs a wee bit more time and space to get over that, she should have it."

Viyelle swallowed her scream of pain and frustration. Maybe Kallista did feel him die, but she didn't love Stone like Viyelle did. He wasn't first in Kallista's heart.

“But she still has us.” Aisse sounded confused and hurt. “We are not Stone, but we are us—ourselves. We are still here. I don't understand why—"

“She will remember us,” Obed said. “Soon. But we have other matters to discuss."

“The trial,” Keldrey said.

“Doesn't the embassy have lawyers?” Viyelle looked from Obed's grim face to Keldrey's. She was getting a bad feeling about this. “Truthsayers?"

Obed shook his head. “Warriors will be more use than lawyers. Justice in Daryath is decided by combat. Each side in a case brings a champion to the court. They fight, and the winner of the combat is the winner of the court case."

“B-but that's outrageous,” Viyelle sputtered. “What about truth?"

“The One is the judge of the truth. The One ensures that the side of right is the winner."

“Let me guess—which usually turns out to be the side with the biggest purse to hire the best fighter.” Keldrey's voice held all the cynicism Obed's only hinted at.

Their tattooed ilias smiled. “Or the side with enough sons to find those with the talent not only to become champions, but to become dedicat."

“What about the people too poor to hire a champion?” Viyelle's outrage grew with each further revelation. “Are they simply without luck?"

“Only those dedicat champions in their direct family line are sworn to fight for their Line. The others are sworn to justice. They fight for whoever has need. And the im-dedicats may do so as well, if they do not have other commitments."

“This was you?” Leyja's voice held the wonder Viyelle felt.

Obed inclined his head. “Yes. I did this."

“Kallista should be here,” Torchay said. “She needs to hear this. Why have you no’ told us before?"

“It is not a thing I am proud of. Murder done in the name of justice is still murder."

“Especially when it's done in the name of greed,” Keldrey said.

Obed acknowledged that truth silently.

“Tell her,” Torchay said. “You have to explain this to Kallista. We have to find another way to get Stone's boy back. She can't handle another death, not of one of us."

“None of us will die,” Obed said.

“She won't let anyone else risk his life—"

“Trials are not always to the death,” Obed interrupted. “It is a matter to be settled with the justiciars when they come."

“If it's not always to the death—” Viyelle spoke up, her horror mingling with awe that Obed had survived such a life. “Why is it
ever
to the death?"

His easy smile twisted. “Expense. The more serious cases—those involving serious crimes or large amounts of money—call for serious combat. It can be to death, or it can be multiple combat. A tournament, if it is not to the death. It costs more to hire more fighters, even if they know they will not die. Sometimes they still die. Many have killed without meaning to. And sometimes they die later."

“How serious is
our
case?” Leyja asked.

“I do not know.” Obed looked worried as he shook his head. “It is over a small servant boy. He is not important. But the parties involved—the Reinine of Adara and the very powerful Habadra Line—they make it important."

“Why did you get us into this?” Viyelle demanded, horror rising to outweigh even grief.

“To get us out of Habadra's House without further bloodshed.” Obed snapped his gaze to hers. “It would have come to this anyway. Neither Kallista nor this Chani would back down. It is the only way to get our son back without starting a war."

“Sounds damned close to war to me,” Viyelle said.

“But it isn't.” Torchay stood. “It's controlled, limited. It has rules. But no battles to the death. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

“Obed, you need to explain this to Kallista,” Torchay said.

Obed sighed and stood. “I will try."

“If she starts to throw things again, duck this time.” Fox attempted to tease, but his heart obviously wasn't in it.

“I would gladly accept another black eye,” Obed said, “if only she would let us comfort her.” He slipped through the door.

“We have to be careful,” Joh said. “Sky is safe right this moment, but I've been talking to the embassy staff. They've told me about the Sameric sect of clerics, how they whip up mobs at the least hint of heresy. Habadra wouldn't protect him if the Samerics get hint of our ilian. And she could use it as an excuse for—well, who knows what she might do?"

Viyelle squeezed his hand. She wanted to sleep in a big pile with all of them together, as they sometimes did. It would be lonely with only Joh. Thank the One, she hadn't lost him too.

“
Kallista.
” The fear in Obed's voice carried through the open door. They all scrambled to join him. Chairs fell over, Fox nearly did. In moments, they were gathered around the chaise where Kallista sat staring into nothing at all.

“What's wrong?” Viyelle had to ask, her heart pounding.

“She won't answer me."

“Kallista.” Torchay knelt beside her, waved his hand before her face. “Kallista, do you hear me?"

She blinked, turned her face in his direction but never quite made it before she subsided into her blank staring again. Torchay lifted her eyelids to peer into her eyes. He chafed her hands, pinched her wrists, and nothing happened.

Chapter Twelve

Cold rolled down Viyelle's back despite the heat building up in the room. She shivered, pulling Joh's arm around her.

He frowned, wrapping her close. “Cold?"

Viyelle nodded. “Scared. But cold too."

“So am I.” Joh absently rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms. Viyelle recognized the subtle signs as Joh turned his analytical mind to matters she could only guess at.

“Viyelle is cold,” he said after a moment. “So am I."

“Oh?” Leyja frowned and came to lay her hand on their foreheads. Having three bodyguard-trained iliasti gave them an embarrassment of riches in healing skills. Kallista had the magic and their bodyguards had the best non-magical medical training possible.

“Do any of the rest of you feel it?” Joh asked. “That chill?"

Aisse shivered. Obed rubbed his arms. “We feel it because you ask if we do,” he said.

“No.” Torchay shook his head. “It's not cold. It's the links. Kallista's cut us off."

“How do you know?” Obed's tone was scornful.

“Can she do that?” Keldrey asked.

“She can't do that,” Aisse said at the same time. “She couldn't before."

“That was seven years ago,” Torchay said. “And only three of you were godmarked. There's eight of us now and she's had time to learn."

“How do
you
know?” Obed repeated.

“Because I do. And if you'd get your head out of your arse and stuff that pride of yours where it belongs and pay attention to what the hell's going on inside you, you'd know it too.” Torchay's face was in Obed's, both of them snarling and spitting.

Viyelle held her breath, hoping nothing more would happen, hoping that if something did, Keldrey and Leyja or Fox or someone could stop it. How could things be falling apart like this? So quickly?

“I
know
,” Torchay growled. “Before any of us were marked, even before she was struck with this magic, I could tell when she used magic. I still can. Compare how you feel now with how you felt this time yesterday. What's changed?"