Shadow of the Swan (Book Two of the Phoenix Legacy) (22 page)

Amik laughed, waving him on his way. “Go with! He’s safe as a babe in his mother’s arms.”

The drapes slid back with the door, then closed after him, and Amik bestirred himself to rise from the depths of his chair with a grunting effort.

“Alex, my son has made me forget myself as a host. May I offer you some sustenance?”

“Thank you, no.” He was still feeling the drug, even though the headache was easing.

“Later, then. Your appetite will return.” Amik went to a table glittering with an assortment of crystal decanters and glasses. “And here’s balm to bring it back.”

Alex wasn’t convinced he was ready for any form of balm, but when Amik brought him a minuscule, stemmed glass filled with a pale yellow liquid, he accepted it with a polite smile. It was a heavy-beaded liqueur; the bouquet and flavor were familiar, but its name was lost to him. Elise Woolf, he remembered, had served it only on special occasions and always in small glasses such as this exquisite cut crystal.

Amik sank into his chair, then sipped from his glass, his jowled face almost cherubic with a gratified smile.

“Ah. This, my friend, is a rarity. A Medit bragnac produced only in a certain area near Marsay.”

That jarred the memory. Alex nodded absently. “Marsay Cabray, isn’t it?”

“You’re acquainted with it?” Amik raised an eyebrow, adding archly, “You are, indeed, a gentleman born, then. Marsay Cabray is generally reserved for Lords, and the like.”

Alex hesitated, then, “ ‘And the like’ covers a lot of ground.”

Amik laughed. “True enough. Well, I’ve assumed we’ll be enjoying your company for the night, at least. Suitable quarters have been prepared for you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish, of course.”

“Thank you, Amik.” His gaze moved around the windowless room. “May I ask where I am?”

“Of course you may ask, and I’ll even answer that particular inquiry. You’re presently under the Outside in Helen. This is my prime HQ.”

“And the prime HQ of the Brotherhood?” Then Alex quickly added, “Forgive my curiosity. I don’t expect you to answer
that
inquiry.”

Amik’s eyes had gone hard and wary at the question, but now he shrugged and offered a crooked smile.

“You’re surprised that the Brotherhood, which is so ubiquitous in the Two Systems, should have its central HQ on an out-of-the-way planet like Castor? Conpol would be, too, and it hasn’t always been this way. Only since I became master of the Brotherhood. I was born here; I know the ground. Besides, I find Castor’s gravity more considerate of my bulk at this point in my life.” Then he noted, “That wasn’t as careless a revelation as it might seem, to admit that this is my prime HQ. You are, in fact, six hundred meters beneath the surface at the heart of a veritable labyrinth. It would be virtually impossible for you to lead or direct anyone through it. And, incidentally, I’d advise you against trying to find your way out of it.”

Alex looked up at the glass dome with its semblance of sunlight shining through the bright mosaic.

“I hadn’t intended to do so, Amik.”

“Don’t mistake me, you’re a guest here and under no constraint. That advise is for your own safety. Even if you reached the upper levels, that would only take you into the Outside where you’re a stranger and quite vulnerable. The Shads have put you on the fugitive lists with a price on your head, and as I said, the Brothers are creatures of habit. You’ll have to be very circumspect in our halls; the face-screen always, and I wouldn’t suggest you wander about alone. At this point, no one has seen your face, nor does anyone know you’re here. I will, of course, lay edict, but the Brothers occasionally ignore my edicts as did Gamor, who is no longer capable of passing on or utilizing that information.”

Alex felt a brief chill. He had no doubt of the unfortunate Gamor’s fate; his greed had cost him his life, the “price in his blood” Jael had promised to exact, and which Amik had taken care of, as he put it, personally.

Alex sipped at his bragnac, his eye drawn to the gold-scrolled knife sheath nearly lost in brocaded folds at Amik’s waist. The knife was part of any male Outsider’s standard garb, and for Amik it was probably a symbol of authority. It was also, Alex realized, a functional weapon that had undoubtedly been many times put to the fundamental purpose for which it was designed.

Amik was studying him, eyes glinting with amusement.

“If you think I might give you over to Gamor’s fate, Alex, or be tempted by your headprice myself, ease your mind. My son called you friend and brother under blood edict. You’re quite safe from me. You can also ease your mind on what Jael has told me about you or the Phoenix. My son is annoyingly close-mouthed. He’s made me a stranger in that part of his life.” Amik frowned irritably. “But perhaps a mere father should be grateful to be told anything at all.”

“Perhaps Jael felt a mere father deserved to know anything he was free to divulge.”

“Ah. And perhaps he realized
this
mere father might become suspicious of his secretive activities and cause him a great deal of trouble.
Now
he has my very mind under cuff. Besides, he knew I might guess him out; I wasn’t totally ignorant of the Phoenix even before he joined it.”

Alex concentrated on his bragnac, wondering at that offhand statement. But he didn’t pursue it.

“Well, Amik, it’s a father’s lot, so they say, to put up with the choices of his wayward children, no matter how foolish they may seem.”

Amik laughed. “So they say, and in answer to the question you didn’t quite ask, I don’t oppose his choice of the Phoenix. Jael takes his own way, and I don’t cross his lines. If I disagree with his choice, it’s only because I’m too old and cynical to consider it anything but a waste of time. But he’s young and still susceptible to idealism. I almost envy him that. I can’t remember ever being susceptible to that particular weakness.”

“You contradict yourself by admitting envy, and Jael didn’t acquire that ‘weakness’ unaided. Your son’s qualities speak well of his father, Amik.”

“His qualities speak more of his mother, friend, if the truth were known. She was a rare woman.”

There was a veiled look in his eyes and something Alex recognized as grief, and that aroused his curiosity; it seemed so inimical to the Lord of Thieves.

“I can well believe that, Amik. Jael didn’t talk about her at any length, of course, when he was in—” He hesitated, stopped from speaking the word “Fina” by the momentary memory blocking of his conditioning. “—when Jael and I first met, but it was obvious she was important in molding him.”

“Very important.” Amik regarded him through a cloud of smoke with an oblique smile. “If you want to know about his mother. I’ll tell you. I’ve told few people about her.” He paused, lost in thought, then sighed. “But I’ll tell you because Jael calls you friend and brother, and it’s too late to go against her now. She’s ten years dead. But before her death, if it had been known she lived, the price on that one’s head would’ve made
my
headprice look paltry.”

“What was her crime that her head was so valuable to the Concord?”

“Her name was her only crime.” Amik puffed at his cigar, then, “First, you must understand that Jael’s good looks aren’t solely his heritage from his mother. In my youth I was considered the epitome of masculine grace.” He sighed, then with a shrug, “But that went the way of youth. At any rate, Jael’s mother found merit in me; she held this old thief dear, however strange it may seem.”

“Should it seem strange?”

“It always did to me. She didn’t need to take me as husband. I’d have kept her safe all her life and asked nothing in return, and she knew it, but she held me dear enough to be my wife and bear my son. Strange! My friend, it’s something to wonder at, and I never stopped wondering.”

Alex was wondering now at Amik the Thief, his hooded eyes veiled with tears. A man who could put a greedy Brother to death without a hint of remorse, yet still grieved a wife years dead. Alex could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t seem banal; he waited silently for Amik to continue.

“We had only the one child, and perhaps we did him no service to bring him into this life to be first born of the Lord of Thieves. But she wanted a child, my child, and Jael was the joy of her last years. I don’t know his destiny now, but he’s her son. He’ll make his way.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. Who was she, Amik?”

He gazed into his glass, smiling secretively.

“Jael’s mother was the Lady Manir Kalister Peladeen.”

Alex was stunned to silence, and Amik’s rumbling laugh was indicative of satisfaction.

“So. Now you understand why I say it was something to wonder at. The wife of Elor, the last Lord of Peladeen. That one bore Jael, my son.”

Alex had himself under control, outwardly at least. He was still willing to concede his curiosity to Amik, but not its intensity now.

“Then the Concord has deluded itself in thinking that Manir Peladeen died with Lord Elor.”

“The Concord had deluded itself on many things, my friend, but is it written in the histories that the body of the Lady Manir was ever found?”

“No, nor that of her son. I mean, Elor Peladeen’s son.”

“Do you think she’d have dared let it be known she lived when the Purge began? All the Peladeen were slaughtered after the Fall. That’s what I meant about her headprice if the Concord knew she was alive.”

Alex took time to sip the Marsay Cabray. “How is it she came to you for protection?”

“She didn’t come to me by intent, actually. But I’ll tell you that story if you like.” He paused, looking at Alex inquiringly. “You find this incredible, my friend?”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t doubt your word, Amik.”

“Ah. Well, no matter. It’s true, and I have proof of it, but you may believe it or not, as you will. At any rate, Elor Peladeen’s last battle was fought in Helen, as you know. The night Confleet invaded the city, the Brothers and I were going about our business—one man’s disaster is another’s good fortune, of course—and I happened to be near the Peladeen estate; the Eliseer Estate now. There was a great deal of confusion; explosions, fires, soldiers flooding the city.
I
didn’t find the Lady Manir; two of the Brothers brought her to me. She had at least ten thousand ’cords on her in jewelry in clear sight—not that she had any idea of its worth—yet the Brothers didn’t touch it. That should give you an idea of the kind of woman she was. Anyone else would’ve been quickly done and the jewelry taken, but she backed them to the edge. Of course, the child had something to do with it, although usually even
that
wouldn’t make the Brothers pause.”

Alex turned his glass to catch the light. “What child?”

“Her child. Peladeen’s first born. He was little more than a baby; only two years old, I think. The God knows how long she’d carried him about in all the confusion.” He loosed a long sigh. “Perhaps that’s why she touched my heart so, that boy. And the look in her eyes. I’ve been to Terra—anonymously, of course—and toured Lord Galinin’s zoological preserve. Have you ever seen a lioness with her cubs?”

Alex nodded, but the image in his mind was the quiet hands of Honoria Ivanoi on the day of her widowing.

“Yes, I know what you mean, Amik.”

“A mother protecting her babes; such courage exists nowhere else in nature. The Lady Manir had that look, and this old thief . . .” He laughed ruefully. “I couldn’t bring myself to touch a hair of her head. Not only that, I laid edict to the Brothers for her; blood edict. I loved her from that moment, which isn’t so surprising. The only surprising thing was that she came to care for me in time.”

Alex asked, “Amik, what about the boy? That was their only son, wasn’t it? Predis?”

“Yes, I think that was his name. He was dead. When she was brought to me, he was already dead and growing cold.”

Alex felt a tightness in his throat, and he was thinking of the man who called himself Predis Ussher, who claimed Peladeen as his birthright.

“He was already dead? Are you sure it was her son?”

“Would a mother be unsure?
I
wouldn’t have known the boy, but she did, and she wasn’t confused or hysterical—not that one.”

“Did she know the boy was dead?”

“At first, she refused to recognize it. Then—it was quite sudden, too—she accepted it.”

“What happened to—I mean . . .”

“We buried him, Manir and I. Nothing would do, in the midst of an armed invasion, but that I should help her bury her son. And do you know
where
he was buried? The gardens!” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it himself. “The gardens of the Peladeen estate. With Confleet soldiers pouring in, the walls collapsing from the fires and bombing, the Lady wouldn’t be satisfied until her son was laid to rest on House ground; Peladeen ground. That’s what the Lady wished, and that’s how it was done. Then I brought her here and I promised I’d keep her safe all her life. In time, I suppose the Concord might have granted her amnesty, and I wouldn’t have stopped her if she wanted to take that risk. But she stayed with me and five years later took me as her husband, and finally, nearly twelve years later, she bore our son.”

Again, Alex could think of no suitable comment; he waited through a short silence until, at length, Amik’s golden, jinni grin flashed on again.

“So. Whether you believe me or not, my friend, you must admit it makes a good tale. And it
is
true. Even an old thief wouldn’t dream up something so utterly unlikely.”

Alex hesitated, then, “Amik, you said you had proof. If I should ever ask for that proof, would you let me see it?”

Amik studied him intently, eyes narrowed to slits.

“It would depend on your purpose. But you’ve piqued my curiosity. Why should you be interested in the proof of my little story?”

“I’m interested in many things, and incidentally, I believe every word of it.”

“Do you, now? Well, I’m flattered that you take such faith in this old thief.”

Alex tipped up his glass, sending him a slanted smile. “I have absolute faith in you, Amik, and it’s only strengthened by the fact that I have access to information that supports your story.”