The Wraeththu Chronicles (80 page)

"Shall I fetch you a drink?" he asked, and I nodded my head, babbling, "Yes. Please. Anything."

It was Chrysm who brought it back for me. "Seel said to give you this," he said with a knowing smile. I grimaced and drank, gratefully. "I enjoyed our walk last evening," Chrysm continued.

"I'm sorry about that," I said.

"For what? You are too hard on yourself. You must learn to handle Seel in the right way. He is only har, you know."

"Only!"

"He doesn't know what he's missing; that's all I've got to say about it. I only wish you'd wanted me to be me and not him!"

"Chrysm, stop it!"

He laughed at my flushed embarrassment. "Well, Swift, have you seen the legendary Tigrina yet?"

"No, not yet."

"You will have to prepare yourself for an interrogation, I fear."

"Interrogation? About what?"

Chrysm touched my arm lightly. "Don't look like that! Not that kind of interrogation. It will be about Cal. Probably his name will not even be mentioned once, but I swear you'll find yourself talking about him endlessly."

"I'm not sure I understand you," I said.

"When was the last time you took aruna with anyone?"

"Why? What has that got to do with it?"

"Nothing at all!"

"You are mocking me!" I thought about walking away from him, but could see no-one else that I knew. My glass was empty.

"Arahal means to keep you chaste." Chrysm held a bottle made of lilac-colored glass and was twisting it between his hands. "Your body is sacred, Swift," he said.

"Yes, it is!" I answered coldly. If I asked him questions, he would tell me the answers; he was trying to without the questions being asked, but at that time, I didn't want to know. I was afraid to or I just didn't care; it was hard to tell.

I was not given a seat on the top table as Ashmael had implied, but was placed next to Arahal on the next one down. The tables were laden with fragrant food, steam rising from roasted birds, their skins scarlet with spices, soaking in a marinade of tart berry juice. There were bowls and bowls of vegetables, aromatic with sprinkled herbs, and salad and baked fruit simmering in a salty sauce. The Gelaming are fond of food; their meals are always exquisite. It was difficult to keep my eyes off the splendid sight of the Tigrina, who sprawled elegantly in his chair like a god, bending his head to listen to what Ashmael, seated next to him, was saying. I had imagined the Tigrina to be dark like Pellaz, but his hair was the color of while gold and teased out around his head like an enormous mane, tumbling, over his shoulders like molten waves. I thought he seemed strangely vulnerable in a female sort of way, but Arahal brushed away my observavation. "There is steel beneath that velvet," he said. "There has to be!"

"Have I learned my lessons well, Arahal?" I asked. God knows what made me think of it then.

Arahal raised one eyebrow quizzically. "I haven't taught you all that much yet, but I'm pleased with your progress so far."

"Is there more than one purpose to my training?"

"What do you mean?"

1 shrugged, but didn't continue. I could feel Arahal looking at me, wondering. I could feel the words trembling on the tip of his tongue. He curbed himself.

"There is more than one purpose," he said.

Some time after we had finished eating, when I had relaxed enough to forget why I was there, the Tigrina sent someone to bring me into his august presence. Luckily, I had drunk enough by then not to feel too intimidated. Ashmael winked at me as I sat down. Close to, the Tigrina was an electrifying sight, his strong perfume was overpowering. He was dressed all in clinging black, with black jewels at his throat and in his ears and hair. His fingernails were incredibly long, lacquered to a sheen of lustrous jet and set with diamonds. Never had I seen a throat so long and curving and slim, or shoulders of such sculpted, precise proportions. Caeru was a vision and he knew it.

As I had expected, he spoke in a cool, measured voice. "So, you are Terzian's son," he said. I smiled weakly. "You have traveled a long way to reach us."

"It seems that way," I said.

"The Tigron has spoken of you. I have heard about the time Pellaz spent in Galhea. Of course, you would have been just a baby then." There was no mistaking the hardness in his tone. He turned away from me. "Ashmael has been telling me of the plans they have for your future. . . . How privileged you are, Swift the Varr!"

Ashmael smiled fiercely at him. There was a moment's uncomfortable silence, during which the Tigrina sighed four times. I counted, unable to look away from him. I wondered what it would be like to be in his position;so high. Everyone knew who he was; his clothes, his jewelery were the best, His smallest whim must be gratified. He looked at me with dark blue eyes, "Did you travel here alone?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, there were three of us."

The Tigrina gazed over my shoulder at the crowd beyond us. "Oh, and where are your friends now? You must point them out to me. I find Varrs most fascinating."

I looked beseechingly at Ashmael, unsure of how to answer this request,] but Ashmael would not help me, hiding his smile in a goblet of wine and scanning the room carelessly.

"There are only two of us left in Imbrilim, my lord," I said. "Leef and myself. The other has gone. I don't know where."

"I see." He snapped his fingers in the air, and Velaxis, who had beer hovering behind Ashmael's chair, swooped to his side. "More wine!" the Tigrina ordered. "Be quick about it!" He turned his glacial attention once more upon me. "Now, tell me about your home," he said.

He listened to me for about twenty minutes. During that time, I consumed two goblets of wine. At the end of this time, Caeru raised his hand and silenced me in mid-sentence.

"That's enough," he said, and turned to Ashmael. "Have one of your people bring the Varr to my pavilion later." I sensed dismissal and stood up. The Tigrina smiled at me, but his eyes were still cold. He raised his glittering glass. "Until later, son of Terzian."

"Well?" Arahal demanded, when I was sitting next to him once more.

"The Tigrina wishes to speak with me later on," I said woefully.

Arahal made an irritated sound. "Oh no," he murmured.

I leaned over and drank from Arahal's goblet, which he fastidiously took from my hand. The linen tablecloth was strewn with crumbs and ringed with stains. "You are concerned for me," I said flatly.

Arahal smiled. "Yes . . . but I suppose you will have to gratify his curiosity. Do you understand why he wants to see you?"

"Because of Cal?"

"Not just that. Caeru knows why you are here and he will misbehave by trying to interfere with your progress. I don't suppose it will matter that much, though. Just don't give too much of yourself."

"I don't like that warning, Arahal!"

"My only fear is that you will forget it," he said, and toasted my health with a smile.

Way past midnight, when everyone was talking more loudly than ever and the musicians were playing with more abandon, I asked Arahal, "About the other purpose of my being here; what is it?"

He pulled a face. "Do you believe in destiny?"

"I'm not sure what I believe in any more."

"Hmm . . . well, it's something to do with that. The inevitable; what must be. Imagine a focus of two points in time; a focus of two lives at that point. Often, important things can be gained from such events."

"You never answer me properly, do you?" I complained.

"Well, you must realize that enlightenment for you might change things. We have to be cautious."

"Is something going to happen soon?"

"Something will happen tonight," he answered evasively.

The Tigrina retired fairly early by Gelaming standards. Half an hour or so after he had left the party, Velaxis slunk over to where I was sitting, announcing rather bitterly that he was to escort me to the Tigrina's pavilion. Neither of us spoke as we walked through the cool night air. Moths fluttered blindly. There was a damp smell of grass. Some of the other tents were still glowing with subdued light; soft laughter and voices; shadows against the cloth. I was not nervous; I had some idea of what was to come. Both Arahal and Chrysm had hinted at it.

It was only a minute or so's walk from the pavilion of the Hegemony to that of the Tigrina and for all that time I was thinking about Seel. Since that first embarrassing exchange, when Arahal had left us together, Seel had managed to avoid me entirely. Perhaps I was reading too much into his behavior, after all, there had been so many hara there, most of whom were probably known to him.

The Tigrina's pavilion was constructed of sparkling midnight-blue cloth and adorned with silver tassels that hung motionless in the still air. A single torch glowed blue-white at the entrance. Within, the only light came from a cluster of tall, black candles in silver clasps. Light reflected from spilled jewels, silken cloth and metal. The Tigrina was ready for us, carefully reposing upon a mass of dark, shiny pillows. He was alone, looking up when Velaxis and I eased through the door curtains and dismissing Velaxis with an imperious wave of his hand. Affronted, Velaxis swept out without speaking.

I wondered what had been going through this gilded creature's mind as he waited for me, what plans he had prepared. I could not tell whether it was through design or unease that he did not speak, but I watched entranced as Caeru slowly removed his heavy jewelery in silence. He laid the glistening stones down carefully upon a low table at his side, where they rattled into an untidy, treasure-chest heap. He stretched his neck and rubbed it languorously. I could see the scar of his inception on his arm. Arahal had told me the Tigrina bleached his skin with the juice of lemons. I could believe that; he was as white and luminous as pearl. I think he hoped I was afraid, but that was not the effect he was having on me. It was a kind of morbid fascination that kept me staring at him.

He offered me coffee, which I accepted, and poured me some himself from a tall, awkward pot, which had been steaming on the table. "I expect you're wondering why I've asked you here," he said, which I found to bea very predictable question. Perhaps this, more than anything, proclaimed that he was not truly Gelaming.

"I should imagine it's because you want to ask me about Cal," I said. The Tigrina smothered his surprise. What did he think I'd say? I found it annoying that he expected me to be so utterly in awe of him, because I knew that Ashmael and the others were not. Did he really think that they wouldn't have spoken to me about him, and that their opinions, no matter how surreptitiously implied, would not rub off on me? I was not overly fond of Velaxis, but I had not liked the Tigrina's insulting attitude toward him. Ashmael, whom I respected intensely, never treated anyone like that, no matter how much lower in rank they were than him.

"You are just repeating what you've been told, of course," Caeru said suddenly. I was alarmed, thinking he'd read my mind, but he was still talking about Cal.

"Isn't it true then?"

"Already, it seems, Ashmael has taught you how to be disrespectful," he said.

I wanted to reply, "Doesn't respect have to be earned?" but realized this would be going too far. No matter what the Gelaming might think of him, he was still the Tigrina, and commanded respect simply for that.

"I don't mean to sound disrespectful," I said.

He smiled and leaned back among the cushions. The shoulder of his garment dropped away slightly, revealing more of that skin which was so perfect and pale. "Can't you understand my fascination?" he asked. I smiled to myself, amused by the ambiguity of that remark, which I'm sure was unintentional.

"Yes. I understand."

"Good.. . . You look nervous, Swift the Varr, sitting hunched like that on the edge of your chair." (I wasn't.)

"What have they told you about me?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" He forced a laugh, throwing back his head, exposing that throat which seemed to have 'bite me' written all over it.

"A little, then," I conceded. "But I would prefer you to tell me about yourself. If you fear you've been misrepresented . . . ?"

His mouth dropped open in amazement. "How bold you are! How very Varr! Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"How unusual! Very well, sit here beside me and I shall tell you."

I stood up and removed Arahal's brushed leather jacket that I'd slung about my shoulders as protection against the cool, dew-laden air outside. The Tigrina watched me with interest. How I've changed, I thought. What Caeru doesn't realize is that this person here with him is as much a stranger to me as to him. I sank down beside him and he leaned away from me a little, as if uncomfortable having anyone so close. He tried to appear brittle and aloof, but now I could see the saddened, bitter creature that he really was. His eyes could not hide it.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

I honestly think he was regretting having asked me to join him. This Interview was not progressing the way he'd planned, although it was fairly obvious that some kind of seduction had been intended. I'd learned how to decipher Arahal's riddles enough by now to have gathered that.