City in the Sky (26 page)

“So Albiers said,” the old soldier said, equally quiet. “He also said that you were incredible.”

“A lot of men died,” Erik replied.

“That's war,” Ikeras said flatly. “The thing to remember is that more might have died if someone else had commanded.”

Erik was silent for a moment, considering what Ikeras had said. Would more men have died if someone else had led those troops? He didn't know. If he'd been there, and they'd attacked anyway, but someone else had commanded? Perhaps.

“It's not war yet,” he objected, ignoring the thought for now.

Ikeras shrugged. “Between us and the Draconans? It's always war,” he observed dryly. “Just different levels of the beasts.”

“The blockade?” Erik asked.

“It'll pass,” the older man told him. “They block their ports to us every so often. It rarely lasts more than a few months – it hurts us, but we can survive. It hurts them more.”

“Of course, most of our ports are always closed,” Erik observed softly.

“That's the way of it,” Ikeras replied. “There's some too paranoid to open the ports to anyone, and not paranoid enough to think a real fight's coming.

“Are you two dooming and glooming?” a female voice cut into their quiet conversation. Erik looked up and found Arien standing just there. His grandmother has dressed up for the occasion, and appeared quite the elegant Aeradi lady in a dark green satin dress.

“This is supposed to be a party, not politics,” she continued.

“What’s the difference?” Erik asked.

“You
enjoy
yourself at a party,” Arien replied. “Ikeras, shoo!”

The older man --
kep
to Erik's
sept
-- bowed slightly. “As my
septel
and
septon
command,” he murmured.

Once Ikeras had left Arien turned back to Erik. “You heard me, Erik,” she said firmly. “You've been moping about one thing or another since that Gods-be-cursed duel. Go! Have fun!”

As Ikeras, Erik bowed. “As my lady grandmother commands,” he replied.

Arien smiled at him. “Good. Now shoo yourself!” she ordered.

Erik had barely walked away from his grandmother before a man dressed in the uniform of the sept Rakeus intercepted him, a man he knew quite well. He smiled at the sight of Letir and his wife Deria coming towards him.

“Letir, Deria, good to see you,” he greeted them with a slight inclination of his head.

“No one told us you were back,” Deria told him, her lips twisting into a half-faked pout. “I don't think even
father
knew.”

Erik blinked. He hadn't even
thought
of contacting the
septon
Rakeus – he'd assumed Demond would have told him.

“I assumed Captain Demond would have told you,” he said aloud, only to have Letir laugh at him and poke his wife gently.

“He did,” the young shipmaster replied. “Deria was just having her fun. Hiri is looking for you,” he added. “Matters of great importance, one presumes.” His tone made the words far less serious than they appeared.

“Thank you for telling me,” Erik said. “He is here?”

“Yes, I am,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Erik turned to find Hiri
septon
Rakeus standing behind him. The corpulent Aeraid offered his arm and Erik clasped it gratefully for support before releasing his friend.

“It is good to see you, Hiri,” he told the older
septon
.

“And good to have you back, Erik,” Hiri replied. He turned to his daughter and his son-in-law. “I'm sure there are some of the supposedly-noble rapscallions you two hang around with here somewhere. Go enjoy yourselves.”

“We want to hear all about your trip,” Deria told Erik sternly, before taking her husband’s arm and leading him off into the crowd.

“They seem happy,” Erik said quietly, watching them go.

“They are,” Hiri replied. “You did a better deed than you knew. All of my men now see that. Some people here still hold Kels' death against you, but most accept that he chose his own fate.”

Erik nodded wordlessly, and the older man eyed him.

“And you?” he asked softly. “Have you come to peace with it?”

“I do not know,” the younger man admitted. “So much has happened, I almost forgot until I returned. I seem to be haunted by battle.”

“Demond explained it to me,” Hiri told him. “Given what seems to have happened to those who came up against you, I'd say they were more haunted by you than the other way around. You can't change it, Erik.”

“I'll live. It's good to be home,” he admitted. “Some surprises were waiting for me, though.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Hiri replied. “Mostly His Majesty, Adelnis, with a little help from Ikeras and your grandmother.”

“Turning it down was never an option,” Erik said, a statement more than a question.

“True.” Hiri glanced around them, seeming to note the space that had grown around the two
septon
s. “We do have other business, Erik,” he told him, lowering his voice.

Erik eyed him warily. “What?”

“This year's Council Of
Septon
s is four days from now,” Hiri told him. “Since you're back, you will have to attend. No one was sure whether you'd return in time.”

“I see,” Erik said calmly. “Anything specific I should worry about?” He knew about the Council, though he admittedly hadn't known the date for this year's.

“Nothing I know of,” the far more experienced
septon
replied. “The usual halfway important decisions the king puts to us. You'll have to be presented to the Council, but it's just a presentation, not a chance for them to refuse you.”

“That's always good,” Erik said drily. His experience with other
septon
s was mixed, and suggested that a lot of them hated his guts for being a half-blood.

Hiri said nothing to that, merely snorting eloquently. “Your lady grandmother will most likely run you through the attendees.
I
will make sure that a copy of the agenda is delivered to your house – they're not
officially
distributed, but everyone will have one.”

“Thank you,” the younger man replied gratefully. The thought of walking into a room full of the other
septon
s was going to be bad enough even knowing what he'd have to discuss.

“You're welcome,” the
septon
Rakeus replied. He chuckled slightly, and Erik looked at him askance. “It seems I've monopolized enough of your time,
septon
Tarverro.”

Erik turned to see what Hiri was referring to, and found his aunt Hella, along with a man in the sea-deep blue robes of a mage, coming towards him. The pair came up, and Hella gave Erik the slight bow of close
sept
relations to their
septon
.

“Erik,” she said, her voice warm, “it's good to have you back.”

“Everybody seems to be saying that,” Erik observed, and glanced over at Hiri.

“Our business is done for now,” the other
septon
said calmly. “We'll speak again before the council, of course?”

“Of course,” Erik confirmed. Hiri bowed, it looking awkward on his tubby form, and strode off into the crowd.

“Aunt Hella,” Erik finally greeted his aunt as Hiri left. “It's good to see you too.” He glanced at the mage beside her, noting that the man wore the two silver rings of a full mage on his right hand. “And this is?” he prompted her.

“Erik, this is Hori
sept
Kelsa,” she told him, her voice softening even more.

Erik smiled at both of them. So this was the experimental mage who'd apparently pursued his aunt both before and after the time in which her husband would be the father of the next
septon
Tarverro. He took a moment to silently examine the man, and liked what he saw. Hori was tall for an Aeraid, only an inch or two short of Erik's own height, and broad with it. The Aeraid was no dwarf, as broad across as tall, but his shoulders held a promise of strength and power.

Despite all this, the man wore the robes of a highly non-physical calling, and the doubled rings of a full mage guaranteed respect in every nation on Cevran. All in all, Erik was quite impressed.

He inclined his head. “It is good to meet you, Hori,” he told the mage, who was probably ten years his senior. “My aunt has spoken highly of you,” he added, with a wicked glance at Hella.

She blushed, and showed Erik her left hand. A simple gold ring, unmarked by the runes of a Society profession, circled her ring finger. “Hori just asked me to marry him,” she said happily. “I said yes,” she added, unnecessarily.

Erik glanced over at Hori, who was eyeing him nervously. Technically, Erik had the right to refuse any man marrying a woman of his
sept
, but he had no inclination to do so in this case.

“That is good news,” he said with unfeigned delight. “Very good news. You have my blessing.” The last words were a necessary formality, and he could
see
Hori almost sag in relief at hearing them.

Before Hori could say anything, someone bumped into Erik from behind. Erik turned around just in time to prevent the young woman who'd hit him from falling over. He did
not
, however, manage to catch her glass as well.

Red wine sloshed out onto the front of his
sept
uniform, staining its subdued colors even darker. Erik quickly released the blonde girl he'd grabbed and tried futilely to brush it off.

“Oh, gods, I'm sorry!” the young lady exclaimed, blushing furiously, and Erik turned his gaze from the front of his tunic to her.

She was tall for an Aeradi woman, but not incredibly so, only an inch or so over five feet, and slim with it. Her blonde hair stretched down her back in a neatly done braid.

“It's all right,” Erik said, frozen for a moment as he met her eyes, but recovering quickly.

“No, really, let me help,” the girl insisted. Before Erik could say a word, she ran her fingers down the front of his tunic, muttering something under her breath. The wine vanished under her touch, leaving the tunic pristinely clean. “There,” she said firmly. “Much better.”

Then, and only then, did Erik realize that she too wore the blue robes of a mage, though only one silver ring adorned her right hand. Hori's chuckle burst into the two youths' private little world, and Erik looked up at his aunt's new fiancé.

“Lord Erik
septon
Tarverro, may I present my apprentice and personal demon, Lady the Mage Elysia
sept
Kirmon,” he said to the pair, smiling at them.

Erik bowed slightly to the girl – and girl she was, she was at least two years younger than him. Young to be a mage, even an apprentice one. “A pleasure, my lady,” he murmured.

“Likewise, my lord,” Elysia replied, dropping a perfect curtsy. “You're the new
septon
Tarverro?” she asked with frank curiosity.

“Last time I checked, yes,” Erik replied.

“You're not what I expected,” she told him.

“And what
did
you expect?” he asked.

“From my father and his
friends
,” the last word was nearly hissed, “conversation, some sort of foul demonic abomination, out to corrupt and devour all of our people.”

Erik froze, and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted
again
.

“Elysia, what are you doing over here? Father is looking for you,” a voice from behind Erik said to her. The voice was masculine but young, probably an older brother.

The girl rolled her eyes to the heavens, which only Erik saw, then turned. “I came looking for Hori, Korin,” she said calmly. “I met Lord Erik here with him.”

Erik turned to find a man who was Elysia's twin to the inch. At the sight of Erik, the youth paused, and then bowed slightly.

“My lord
septon
,” he said quietly. “I am Korin
septi
Kirmon. We should be going, sister,” he said to Elysia, and turned back to Erik. “My apologies, my lord,” he said quietly. “I am not my father. Nonetheless, it would be better if this meeting never happened in his eyes.”

Erik bowed his head in acquiescence, and watched as the twins strode away, his eyes lingering on Elysia for far longer than they should have.

“Their father is Lord the Storm Doldan
septon
Kirmon,” Hori said softly, and Erik started. He'd forgotten that his aunt and Hori were there at all. “He is a close friend of the
septon
Jaras.”

Erik nodded slowly. Jaras was a purist and hated Erik's guts. “A Storm?” he asked, almost as softly. Storms were a level up from mages, far more powerful. Far more dangerous.