her instruments 03 - laisrathera (7 page)

“There, my Lady,” Thaniet said, tucking a final emerald-topped pin into Surela’s hair. “You look radiant.”

Surela studied herself in the mirror and said, silvering the words for gratitude, “Thank you. You have a way with the toilette.”

The other woman flushed a tender peach at the cheeks. “Oh, my Lady. My efforts were only barely adequate before. Now that you’ve risen in station, you really do deserve a dedicated lady’s maid.”

“A dedicated lady’s maid wouldn’t be you,” Surela said. She smiled wearily at Thaniet’s reflection. “I prefer your touch to a servant’s, and suspect I always will.”

Thaniet lowered her eyes, but she was smiling. “You are too kind, my Lady.”

All their words had been silvered and gilt; it was always thus with Thaniet. They talked and the world became a brighter, more beautiful place, cradled in the filigree of optimism and faith and gentleness. Would that she could tarry here and talk with someone sympathetic to her aims! But she could not. “I appreciate the effort you put into it today, particularly, as I now go to unpleasant duty.”

“May I ask?” Thaniet said, hesitant.

Surela sighed. She turned from the mirror and surveyed the bedroom she had claimed as her right as the new Queen of the Eldritch and still found it stamped too well with Liolesa’s mark for her taste. But there would be time to address that, after she had settled the realm, which was the matter that concerned her now. “I summon the detained, to see if they might be convinced to give me fealty.”

Thaniet’s hesitation was obvious.

“Yes, I know. The chances of it are low,” Surela said. “But what use killing them? They might not become good servants of the Crown, but they might be obedient ones, the way we were to Liolesa until she gave us unforgiveable insult.” She shuddered. “A mind-mage. Imagine it. And to think Jisiensire was harboring that seed all along! And that I tried to bring him suit!” She smoothed her sleeves over her arms, trying to still the gooseflesh that had run down them at the thought. Hirianthial was fair of face and manner, and had been well connected and well-moneyed… but if she’d known he was a sorcerer….

Shaking herself, she continued in the shadowed mode, “I don’t need them to love or respect me. I just need them to agree not to spend their strength testing ours, and die for their pains.”

“What does Athanesin say of this plan?” Thaniet asked tentatively.

Surela snorted. “I have not asked him, for it is not his to opine. Besides, what would any man say of such a plan? He will want to kill them, of course, and install some of our own in their place.”

Thaniet shivered. “I am glad you are not so bloodthirsty, my Lady. It would be a fell thing, to begin a dynasty with the slaughter of so many people.”

“I know,” Surela said, the words muted. “And I will not, I pledge you. So I hope they will not prove too intractable. Will you come with me? You may, if you wish.”

“I would, my Lady… but the priest has asked me to see him. Perhaps I can attend your next meeting? Or do you see them all at once?”

“No,” Surela said. “Together they can give one another too much support. I will take them one at a time.” She smiled and returned to their silver-gilt world, the words glittering. “You have been a great help. Thank you for it.”

“Oh, my Lady,” Thaniet said, blushing. “It is nothing beside what you have done for me and my family.” She curtseyed, her skirts rustling. “By your leave? I will see what the high priest wishes.”

“Go on, then.”

Liolesa’s office also still felt far too much like
Liolesa’s
office, and that was something Surela intended to rectify immediately. The private spaces could afford to wait. The public spaces had to reflect her new rule which, she thought with distaste as she glanced around the room, would be far less tainted by the notions of mortals. Tradition would serve them, as it always had. There was nothing out there for the Eldritch save danger and jealousy and the avarice of people who had not their talents, their beauty, or the wisdom afforded them by their lifespans. No… better to remain withdrawn, where they could live their lives in peace. Surela regretted deposing Liolesa in the fashion she had, but the former queen had brought it on herself; by Surela’s way of thinking, it was fated that weapons of the very cultures Liolesa had been unwisely courting should end her reign.

All of this was a deeply sordid business, and she very much wanted to be done with it. And hopefully, this next interview would begin that process, so that the world could resume the normal rhythms of life. Surela did not look up when the guards announced Araelis Mina Jisiensire’s arrival, but waited until they’d withdrawn to consider her guest.

Unsurprisingly, Araelis was infuriated, obviously so. She had never been deft at disguising her feelings, and in this instance Surela suspected she wasn’t even trying. What was to be expected of Hirianthial’s successor, though?

“Lady Araelis,” Surela said. “Please, join me by the fire.”

“You’ll have to kill me before I join you in anything,” Araelis answered, the words black as ashes.

Surela sighed. “We need not begin this way. I don’t expect you to like me, Araelis, but surely we can work together to ensure the prosperity of your family.”

“The… the prosperity. Of my family!” Araelis stared at her. “Are you in earnest? You expect me to believe that you care anything for the welfare of my family when your puppet priest delivered my cousin all but dead into the middle of the winter court, and for no aim other than to be sure he was denounced? So you could give everyone a reputable reason for having him slain for denying your affections?”

Surela felt her cheeks warm. Maintaining her aplomb was difficult, but she managed. “I did not have him slain for spurning me.”

“Oh, tell me a fresh lie,” Araelis snapped. “You are a vain and foolish and short-sighted woman. You have invited our worst enemies onto our soil, thinking that once they are paid they will never return. But if you feed the wolf once, Surela, he will be back… and he will bring all his kin.”

Surela had hoped using Araelis’s name would invite the other woman to consider the same intimacy. She was now no longer certain she was glad to have opened that door. “I have been assured that the creatures we’ve bought have been paid already.”

“Oh is that so.” Araelis snorted. “Yes, you continue thinking that. Idiot!”

“That is enough!”

“No, that’s not enough! Because you
are
an idiot! Do you think the slavers who were picking us off in the Alliance when we dared to leave our world will hesitate even a heartbeat before descending on us now that they know—now that you and that three-times-bedamned priest have
told them!
—where we lie? What do you think Hirianthial was spending his blood to investigate in the outworld before returning here? We have lost too many to dragons, and now you have given us all to them, and the worst of it is that after dragging a false crown onto your head you will still do not the first duty of a liegelady and find us protection against the very enemies you’ve bought us! Goddess and Lord, but to think that our downfall would be the doing of traitors! I had thought accident would belie us first but you have undone all that Jerisa and Maraesa spent their reigns erecting in our defense!”

Surela leaped to her feet. “That is enough! Whether you accept it or not, I am your sovereign now and you will not speak to me this fashion!”

“You will never be my sovereign,” Araelis snarled, the words dripping black and shadows. “And even if Liolesa died tomorrow, you would never be anyone’s liegelady, because you will fail in the one paramount duty that only a queen can undertake… the protection of the realm.” She folded her arms around her swollen belly. “Am I done here, or do you wish to have me executed for my insolence?”

“It is not insolence! You skirt perilously close to treason!”

“Oh… oh no. You have not seen treason yet.” Araelis narrowed her eyes. “You have set your sword against the Galare-Jisiensire. Good luck with that, ‘Queen’ Surela.”

“You may go,” Surela said, before she said anything more regrettable.

Without thanking her for the dismissal, Araelis departed.

The nerve of the woman! To say such things! As if she knew better than anyone what would serve the world and the people!

…still, there was the chance, slight as it might be, that she did know aught that was kept from others. Jisiensire enjoyed a rare closeness with the royal line; perhaps Liolesa had confided something in Araelis, or Hirianthial, that she had not mentioned to the court? This business of Hirianthial observing the acts of outworld slavers sounded plausible.

Fortunately, he was still in the catacombs awaiting the trials of the priests. She could ask. He would not be glad to receive her, but perhaps for the good of their people he could be compelled to give answer. Best to arm herself with that knowledge before attempting her next interview; if Araelis had been less than tractable, and she only of allied family, Surela could only imagine what her reception would be when she attempted the northern branch of the Galares. She sighed and took up her mantle, remembering the cold in the catacombs, and went to ask for escort.

Liolesa found him the following day in the room he’d been assigned. She did not look well, he thought, nor would she until she was home again, but her aura smoothed at the sight of him. He set his stylus down and started to rise, but she lifted a hand. “Don’t, cousin. I am the one who intrudes. I do not interrupt anything, I hope?”

He glanced at the tablet and smiled faintly. “Nothing that would not make you laugh, perhaps, to hear.”

“Oh? I could use such a tale.” She stepped into the room, sat at a chair by the door.

“I am arranging for horses.”

A comet-tail of bright amusement skittered over the dome of her aura, silvered her words. “Theresa’s horses?”

He tapped the stylus gently against the data tablet, kept his voice even and the color neutral. “Yes. They remember me well on that world.”

She hesitated. “I imagine they do,” she said finally. “Well, you will not hear me laughing, cousin. I am glad, in fact.”

“Oh?”

“Because it shows you have expectations for a future where horses still play a part,” Liolesa finished. “Where your lady has time and peace to raise them for me.”

“And when you still need them? Will you?”

Liolesa smiled a little. “An Eldritch will always need a horse. Whether she is using that horse for transportation or for pleasure. I’m told you have been to see the priest?”

“Who has resumed my lessons, yes,” Hirianthial said, thinking of the one he’d endured that morning. “I have a great deal yet to learn.” He added, quiet, “She is not my lady.”

“You are still carrying the swords for Araelis, so, no, I expect not,” Liolesa said, with far too bland an expression.

“Your attempt to properly educate me using Lesandurel—”

“Worked? Or did not?”

He denied himself the severe look he wanted to award her and said only, “I am not Lesandurel.”

“No one would have ever said differently—”

“And I will not do things as he did, nor make his choices. I will make my own.”

“So will we all,” Liolesa said, her aura flashing dark, like steel turned against moonlight. And then, rueful. “Forgive me, Hiran. There is so little I can do right now, and little joy to be had. I fear I may be indulging myself at your expense, if only to have something pleasing to contemplate in my exile.”

Hirianthial sighed and smiled, just a little. “And you find me with the horses, doing the same.”

“Well, then… perhaps you might show me what you are about, and we can both be diverted by something that does not abrade you quite so much.”

On this they whiled a pleasurable hour away, and were in fact still engaged in it when one of the ubiquitous Tams arrived at the door and begged their attention. “My Queen,” he said. “The Alliance ambassador has requested your presence for a meeting with a member of the Fleet Admiralty.”

Liolesa rose and said to Hirianthial. “Come. You will be wanted for this discussion.”

The Ambassador and Admiral awaited them in one of the hotel’s conference rooms, a space dominated by its window and the view of the ships that passed beyond its flexglass wall; everything else fell away, an understated sweep of midnight blue carpets and dark brown furniture cut in simple, elegant lines. The twain standing by the window were the sole spots of color: a female Seersa, white fur pied with fire-red, wearing maroon edged in silver surmounted by a black cloak affixed with the Alliance’s crest, and a human man, skin dark as chestnuts with a fringe of short black hair, in the stark splendor of the Fleet’s dress uniform, cobalt blue and black and gold and silver.

“Your Majesty,” the Ambassador said, drawing nigh and bowing. Speaking in Universal—not a given, with the Seersa, for Hirianthial recalled the few people allowed to learn their tongue by treaty stipulation were mostly Seersa. “Thank you for coming. As you can see, Admiral Ogaban has arrived.”

“With news, I hope?”

“Good and bad,” the human said, stepping forth. He had a mellifluous bass, and none of the unease Hirianthial had often marked among those fresh introduced to the Eldritch; even his aura was a calm burnished silver. “Your Majesty. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though I would have preferred better circumstances.”

“As would we all,” she said. “This is my Lord of War, my cousin Hirianthial Sarel Jisiensire. Lord Hirianthial, Ambassador Fetchpoint.”

“My Lord,” the Seersa said, looking up at him. “It’s good to see you on your feet. I trust the Fleet hospital met with your approval?”

“They did very well by me, thank you,” Hirianthial said, and wondered at his own acceptance of the unexpected title. But then, had he not said that he was committed at Liolesa’s side to the protection of their Body?

“Excellent,” Fetchpoint said. “Then if we might have a seat? Admiral Ogaban can outline what we can immediately send in response to your request for aid.”

“The good news,” Ogaban said once they’d settled at the conference table, “is that I can free up a scout to send your way. Our scouts are heavily armed ships with fifty-man complements; they’re trained to sneak into hot zones and grapple with enemies that might not want to see them coming. They’re just the sort of ships I’d want for a situation like this.” He met their eyes. “The not so good news is that I won’t have that ship to send for another two weeks.”