storm (87 page)

            The healers wouldn't let Moon near Aleeme, who was in a sectioned-off area for critical cases, but he found Azriel lying on a low pallet, staring at the gently swaying ceiling.  Moon spoke, but Azriel didn't appear to hear him.  The healers had cleaned him up, but he wasn't
there. 
Moon hoped that Azriel was deep inside himself and would one day come back.  He didn't want to think about the alternatives.

            The Gelaming had set up a large canteen tent where food and drink was available for all personnel.  Once Moon came out of the healing pavilions, Cal decided they should go and eat.  In the aftermath of the conflict, warriors with minor wounds ate breakfast jovially together.  Looking at their faces, Moon realised many of them were surprised to find themselves still alive.  In the camp around them, tents were already coming down as the tribes made preparations to return home.  At some point in the future, there would be a big victory celebration in Immanion, but by that time many hara would be immersed once more in their everyday lives and would tell themselves they hadn't got the time to travel.  Relations with the Gelaming would never be the same again, because the Gelaming had proved their point.  Moon could sense that some hara were already thinking about that and that it made them uncomfortable.

            Cal found them an open air table near the edge of the crowds and sent Tyson and Moon to fetch trays of food.  This required lengthy queueing, and by the time they returned to Cal he had a companion.  Moon recognised the long-haired Kakkahaar who had spoken to Cal at the Grissecon site.  “This is Lianvis,” Cal said, gesturing across the table.

            Moon and Tyson sat down, each uttering a muttered greeting.  Moon could tell the Kakkahaar was attracting a lot of attention from hara nearby.  He must be here simply because he'd been looking for Cal.  It struck Moon as odd then that a Tigron of Immanion could wander among ordinary hara, as Cal was doing, and
not
attract attention.  Blending in was one of Cal's talents.

            “This must be your son,” Lianvis said to Cal, while looking at Tyson.  “You are very much alike.”

            “And this is Moon,” Cal said, “Pell's sori.”

            “Again the family resemblance is stunning.”  The Kakkahaar smiled at Moon.  “Thank you for all you did last night.”

            Moon felt embarrassed.  He had a feeling this har had seen everything.  “How's Pell?” he asked, then regretted it.  The question turned to ice in the air, fell heavily, and then shattered over the table.  Cal cleared his throat.

            “He'll be fine,” Lianvis said lightly.  “It'll take him a few days to balance himself, but that's only to be expected.  It's a small price to pay for victory.”

            “Victory?” Cal said flatly.  “All we did was buy some time.”

            “Really?” Moon said.  “I thought...”

            “You're right, Cal,” Lianvis said.  He began to eat from the plate of food in front of him.  “Ponclast's allies overestimated his readiness, and underestimated the Gelaming's, or rather Pell's, resourcefulness.  I don't know for sure if this is the last we'll see of the problem.  It might be that future skirmishes will take place elsewhere.  We might not notice them, or even know they've happened.”

            “I hope that's the case,” Cal said.

            Lianvis looked up at him.  “Ignorance is bliss, eh?  Strange, I wouldn't have thought that would be your philosophy.”

            Cal shrugged.  He'd barely touched his food.  “It's becoming so.”

            Lianvis wiped his mouth fastidiously with a corner of his napkin.  “What Pellaz did was simply work,” he said, in a meaningful tone.  “Don't let it get to you.”

            Cal fixed Lianvis with a stare.  “Get me to
him,
” he said, in a voice that sent a chill down Moon's spine.

            “Pellaz?” Lianvis asked.  “You don't need me for that, surely...”

            “No,” Cal said.  “You know who I mean.  Where is he?”

            Lianvis put his hands against the table and regarded Cal thoughtfully.  “I am in two minds whether to tell you.  I've heard quite a lot about you since making contact with the Gelaming.”

            “What do you care?  You've done far worse in your time than I ever have, I'm sure.”

            Lianvis frowned, as if debating why he should care and perhaps surprised because he felt the need to do so.  “You and Pellaz mean something,” he said at last.  “Conflict with Galdra har Freyhella and a possible unpleasant outcome is now how it's supposed to end, either for you or for Wraeththukind in general.”

            Cal laughed coldly.  “I won't kill him.  I just want to meet this paragon who everyhar thinks can take my place.  Wouldn’t you, in my situation?”

            Lianvis grinned and began to eat once more.  “In your situation, my dear Cal, I most probably
would
kill him, but that's why you are a Tigron and I am not, nor ever could be.  Very well, I'll take you to him later.”

            “I want to meet him too,” Tyson said, the first time he had spoken to the Kakkahaar.

            Lianvis shook his head in amusement.  “Poor Galdra!  Perhaps I should consider selling tickets for this event.”

            Before they left the table, a member of Tharmifex Calvel's staff approached them.  He bowed to Cal.  “Tiahaar, there will be a meeting of the Hegemony at mid-day.  You are invited to attend.”  He turned to Lianvis.  “You also, tiahaar.”

            “Tell Tharmifex I'll be there,” Cal said.  “I'll be with my companions here, so make sure they have places.”

            The messenger bowed again, assured Cal this would be attended to and departed.

            “You know what I think?” Lianvis said.

            “What?” Cal asked.

            “Don't visit Galdra har Freyhella before the meeting.  If I were in your position, I think I'd simply act my best before the Hegemony.  The Freyhellan will have heard you're here by now.  He must be...
anxious
about it.  Anyhar can see he'd lay down his life for Pell in an instant.  Show the Hegemony what you're made of – and show Galdra also.  He'll be well enough to attend the meeting and in fact I doubt he'd miss it, whatever his condition.  It could be the opportunity you need.  Two birds brought to earth, lifeless, with one well-aimed missile, don't you think?”

            “Thank you, tiahaar,” Cal said.  “I'll bear that in mind.”

            “Pellaz won't be at the meeting,” Lianvis said.  “I can tell you that much.  He won't be doing anything of consequence for the next few days.  But I think I'll recommend to Tiahaar Calvel that the Tigron is returned to Immanion today.  He should be able to take a journey by
sedu
and I think he should be... removed from play, don't you?”

            Cal narrowed his eyes.  “Why this show of devotion to me, Lianvis?”

            Lianvis shrugged.  “I always liked you, despite what you might have thought.  I like the whiff of danger about you.  You see, I have my romantic fancies about you and Pellaz also.  In my fond imaginings, you walk off together, into a rosy Almagabran sunset, hand in hand.”

            Cal laughed.  “You are amazing!”

            “Don't worry.  The Freyhellan's no match for you.”

            Until the meeting, Cal, Moon and Tyson walked around the camp, so that Cal could exercise his role as Tigron and speak to whoever mattered, as well as many who didn't.  He made no move to go and find Pellaz, which Moon found interesting, although he dared not comment on it.  When they came across Ashmael Aldebaran, who had just supervised the removal of Abrimel har Aralis from Fulminir, Ashmael embraced Cal spontaneously.  “Not before time,” he said.  “I'd almost given up on you.”

            Moon noticed hara observing Ashmael's hearty and clearly sincere greeting.  He also noticed Cal didn't let Ashmael go too quickly.

            “We have much to discuss,” Cal said.  “I've been with Thiede.”

            “
Much
to discuss!” Ashmael agreed.  “Will he return to us?”

            “Not in the same way as before,” Cal said.  “I need to speak to the Hegemony about it.”

            Ashmael nodded, released Cal and patted his arms.  “I'm glad you're back,” he said, then grimaced.  “So who is the enviable har to tell the Tigrina about his son?”

            “Not me,” Cal said.  “I have another matter to deal with.”

            “You do,” Ashmael said.  “Take care of it.”

            Cal smiled widely in response.

A makeshift Hegalion had been created at the Grissecon site.  When Moon and his companions arrived there, many hara of high rank were finding places for themselves on the mats that had been laid out as seats in concentric circles.  Moon saw Tharmifex, Ashmael and Velaxis sitting together, along with Swift and Seel har Parasiel, but there was no sign of Galdra har Freyhella.  Perhaps he wouldn't attend.  The air around the site felt different now, no longer oppressive.  Presumably Gelaming Nahir Nuri had cleaned it of residue of the Grissecon and its aftermath.

            Cal pushed his way through the crowds to take his place next to Tharmifex, as if he'd never been absent from these gatherings.  Many hara had their eyes fixed upon him, including Seel Parasiel, whose expression was grim, to say the least.  Ashmael was grinning, although Tharmifex was tight-lipped.  Moon knew of the history between Seel and Cal, because Tyson had told him.  He wondered what would happen now, but guessed the next hour or so was going to be filled with excruciating moments.

            Swift got to his feet immediately and wrapped Cal in a fierce embrace.  “I heard what you did for Aleeme and Azriel,” he said.  “I can't express...”

            “Hush,” Cal said, kissing Swift on the lips – rather pointedly, Moon thought.  “They are family.  I only did what any of you would have done.”

            Seel had also got to his feet and now stood with folded arms next to Swift.  Cal ducked his head to him.  “Seel,” he said politely, as if nothing bad had ever happened between them, although the mere politeness of the word could also indicate a lifetime of bad feeling.  “I hope Aleeme will be all right.”

            “We don't know yet,” Seel said stiffly.  “He'll live, but... I suppose I must thank you too.”

            “I suppose you must,” Cal said.

            “Ty!” Swift said, in a voice that was rather too jovial.  He dragged Tyson toward him, effectively placing him between Seel and Cal.  “It's good to see you too.  Once we get home, we'll have the biggest celebration Galhea has ever known.  It'll be the best medicine for Azriel and Aleeme.”

            From these words, Moon gathered that Swift had not yet seen his son and his chesnari.  He felt sick with sorrow for the Parasilians.  He expected the healers had kept them away from the pavilions, fabricating some excuse.  In their place, he'd want peace and quiet to relay the devastating news of Azriel and Aleeme's conditions.