storm (90 page)

            “You've always been such a doting father, haven't you?  I take it Rue doesn't know yet.”

            “He's been here a few times, but I didn't mention Bree.  I only just remembered about it.”

            “You should have tried to be a father to Abrimel, Pell.  Maybe you should show mercy now.  I've missed out on a lot with Ty.  The puffed-up feelings of pride he inspires in me now sometimes feel like illness!  It's most odd, but not unpleasant.  He is chesna with Moon.  What an incestuous family we are!”

            “Cal...”

            “What?”

            Pellaz drew in his breath.  “I had some very bad news today.”

            Cal reached for one of Pell's hands, and Pellaz gripped his fingers tightly.  He felt, now he'd made contact, he'd never be able to let go.  His eyes filled up.  He couldn't help himself.

            “Hey,” Cal said, leaning forward to stroke his face.  “How bad can it be?  Tell me.”

            “The Grissecon... at the end of it... I went out of myself.  I wasn't in control.”

            “I saw that.  I called you back.  Do you remember?”

            “Yes.”  Pellaz locked gazes with Cal.  “I wasn't in control.  I wasn't aware of it happening.  Sheeva, one of the surgeons here, told me a short while ago...”

            “What?  Are you hurt?”

            Pellaz felt the tears spill from his eyes.  He wouldn't hide them.  Perhaps it had always been a mistake to do so.  “No...  Galdra made me with pearl, Cal.  Sheeva could tell from the tests he ran on me to make sure my insides were okay.”

            Cal blanched a little.  His eyes widened, but he said nothing.

            “I told you it was bad.  Apart from the fact that it's the last thing I ever wanted to do, I wonder what kind of creature might have been created.  That place where we were: it was not a good place to create life.  There was too much dark flotsam floating about.  Weird things.”

            “Have you asked this Sheeva about it?  Can't he deal with it?”

            “No.  I asked him and he said we don't know enough about our physiology.  We are not like women.  We can't just get rid...”

            “Oh.”  Cal twisted his mouth.  “One day, you might have an heir who is non-problematical.  What are you going to do?”

            “Ask Sheeva to drug me for the duration?  I don't know.  Send it to Freygard, maybe.  Galdra doesn't know.”

            “Who does?”

            “Just Sheeva.  And now you.”

            Cal was silent for some moments.  “Well, if you give birth to a monster, most hara would happily believe it was mine.  Also, if it resembles its father, it's fortunate you chose a har who looked like me.  We've just got back together.  We're blissed out, so much in love.  We want to make a public statement about that, don't we?  We lost a son – as far as everyhar else in concerned.  Seems the obvious solution to me.”

            “You'd do that?”

            “Of course.  I don't want the Freyhellan having any claim over you.  You might think he's a saint, but he's still har, and leader of his tribe.  Only an idiot would pass up having that much influence in the Hegemony.  If Abrimel's disgraced, and our son is kept in hiding, your pearl is the next in line.  How loyal is Sheeva?”

            “Loyal enough not to countenance outside interference in Aralisian matters, I'd say.”

            “Better call him in, then.”

            “Go and find him.”

            Cal stood up, but Pellaz reached for his hand to keep him by the bed.  “Cal, I hope we are still in love.”

            “Course we are.  Soul mates.  Love that transcends death, space and time.  Everyhar knows that.  We're a legend.”

            “Galdra
was
my Terzian.  I don't want to deceive you about that.  He still it.”

            “I know.  But he's not here, and I am.  And I will fight for you, Pellaz.  I realised that the minute I saw you joined to some har who wasn't me.  I was in two minds about coming back here, but now I know.  This har I'm in love with, he's not the one I took to Saltrock.  He's somehar else.  Sometimes, he drives me to distraction, sometimes I could weep for love of him, but I want to get to know him better, regardless.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Don't go away.  I'll be right back, loyal Sheeva in tow.”

            “No, you don't understand. 
Thank you.
”

            Cal shook Pell's hand a little.  “It's OK.  Don't go all strange on me.  You look mad.  Relax.”  Cal blew a kiss and went out the door.

            “That's all I ever wanted to hear,” Pellaz said, aloud to the empty room.

Prisoners in Immanion were confined in the basement of the Hegalion.  There were no proper imprisonment facilities, because the Gelaming had no need of them.  However, Abrimel har Aralis, traitorous son, had to be held somewhere.  The Hegemony had yet to decide his fate.

            Velaxis had been the har to tell Caeru about Abrimel.  Fortunately, the parage Katarin was still in Immanion.  On the evening that Velaxis arrived with his bad tidings, and Caeru descended into a fit of grief and horror, Katarin was able to offer her support.  For hours, the Tigrina ranted that everyhar was mistaken: Abrimel had been bewitched, brainwashed, manipulated.  He would not believe Velaxis's calm repetitions of the facts.  Abrimel himself had confessed to joining forces with Ponclast.  He had no remorse about it.  Eventually, Caeru had ordered Velaxis from his presence, and announced their friendship was over.  He spent the rest of the night weeping in Katarin's arms.

            The following day, Caeru sent a message to summon Velaxis back to his apartment.  Velaxis came at once, and made no mention of the previous evening's events.

            “I want to see my son,” Caeru said.  “Can you arrange that?”

            “Of course,” Velaxis said.  “I'll accompany you.”

            “Thank you,” Caeru said.

            They rode in a covered carriage to the Hegalion and entered it through a back door, so that nohar saw the Tigrina arrive.  Deferential officials, clearly embarrassed by the situation, conducted Caeru and Velaxis to the basement.  Here, Abrimel sat on his bed in a small room with no windows.  An uneaten meal lay on a table nearby.  He looked very ill, his face sunken, his hair matted.  Caeru uttered a cry and rushed to embrace him, but Abrimel did not return the gesture.

            “Is it true?” Caeru asked.

            “Yes,” Abrimel said.  “I am now a prisoner of war.”

            “Pell will do something,” Caeru insisted.  He knelt at Abrimel's feet, his son's limp hands clasped in his own.

            “Do what?” Abrimel asked.  He looked over Caeru's head at Velaxis.  “Do you know what they intend to do?”

            “No,” Velaxis said.  “It hasn't yet been decided.  At best, you're looking at some kind of exile, certainly in confinement.”

            “Will the pious Gelaming stoop to execution?”

            Caeru uttered a wail.

            “No,” Velaxis said, “that is more the style of your erstwhile chesnari.”

            “Don't call him that!” Caeru said.  “He wasn't that.”

            “He was,” Abrimel said.  “We had a son.”  He looked at Velaxis again.  “Is Ponclast dead?  Nohar will tell me.”

            “I don't know,” Velaxis replied.  “Pellaz didn't kill him.  He was exiled.  That's all I can tell you at this point.  You won't be seeing him again.”

            “What of our child?”

            “It was not found in Fulminir.”

            Abrimel pulled his hands away from Caeru's hold and put them over his face.  He did not weep, perhaps because every last tear inside him had already been wept.

            Velaxis came to Abrimel's side and put a hand on the top of his head.  “I'll do what I can, Bree, I promise.  Cal will speak for you.  You are not without some support.”

            Bree lowered his hands.  “I don't want
his
support!”

            “You're in no position to be fussy about that,” Velaxis said.  “Whatever your feelings for Cal, you should know he will always champion those who need his assistance.  I'll make sure of it.”

            “I still love you, Bree,” Caeru said.  “You are still my son.  I don't care what you did.”

            “You're adept at that, I know,” Abrimel said callously.  “Anyhar can trample over you, and you'll still come back, tail wagging!  I wished you dead.  I wished you all dead!”

            Caeru knew he should feel hurt by those words, but all he heard was the bewildered ranting of a child.  He took Abrimel in his arms, and kissed his face.

            Abrimel threw back his head and let out a ragged howl.  It seemed to go on for ever.

            Caeru kept hold of him, weeping for both of them.  He had lost two sons.  It was too cruel.

            When they went back out into the sunlight, Velaxis took Caeru's arm.  “Let's go for a drink,” he said.  “Let's go for a walk.”

            Caeru nodded.  “It feels wrong... being free.  Vel...?

            “Yes?”

            “Can't anything be done?”

            “He has no remorse, Rue.  You have to accept that.  Pell treated him with indifference, and this is just the way it's turned out.  Nohar could have foreseen this.  Nothing can change it.  You just have to learn to live with what is.”

            Caeru shook his head.  “I should hate Pell for it, but I can't.  Why did Bree go this way, Vel?  Why did it happen?  It didn't have to.”

            “It just did,” Velaxis said.  “He made his choices, that's all.”

            “Take me to see him every day, for as long as he's here.”

            “If that's what you want.”

            They went down to the harbour and watched the ships for a while.  The Freyhellan fleet had gone.  Immanion was peaceful, and felt strangely empty, now all the tribal delegates had left.  Hara went about their business as they'd always done.  Nohar recognised the Tigrina, standing upon the quay, throwing stones into the water.  A breeze came softly from the south, smelling of flowers, even though the leaves were falling from the trees alongside the quay avenue.