In the House of Five Dragons
25. Blue Sky
“We are all honored to welcome Captain Gaius Mazrem into the Lyceum as the youngest consul in the history of the Carcaen Empire. Let him bring us the wisdom carried by his revered name.”
— Ullin Craess
Arliss caught her at the door of the servant’s longhouse. Thainna slowed and shifted her satchel to the other shoulder so that the fat cook could walk comfortably beside her.
“I didn’t see you in the kitchen this morning,” Thainna said. She smiled at the older Talon. “Were you sleeping late?”
“No,” Arliss hissed under her breath. “Wipe that smirk off your face, girl. You’re to report to Narissa at once. The Crest isn’t pleased with your work.”
Thainna jerked to a halt, staring at Arliss.
“What?” she asked. “But I just gave a report. An important one! Shouldn’t that be good enough?”
“Hae, so any sane man would think, but the Crest isn’t a sane man! You have to go to the temple straight away.”
“I can’t go now!”
Thainna snapped her mouth shut as a porter brushed past, carrying a basket of flowers perched atop his shaven head. Arliss grabbed Thainna’s arm and towed her away, safely behind one of the storehouses.
“You have to go,” Arliss hissed.
“But I can’t. Rikard has more visitors today,” Thainna said. “I’m supposed to stay with him. You know that! I can go there tonight, after Rikard’s asleep.”
“You can’t seriously think to ignore the Crest’s order!”
“I’m not ignoring it,” Thainna said. That was the truth, after all. “I just can’t go right now.”
“What about between visits?” Arliss suggested desperately.
“Even if Lady Mazrem would lend me a chariot, I couldn’t do it. Rikard is supposed to speak to General Castor today and three more Lyceum consuls. There just isn’t any time, Arliss. The Crest will have to understand. I’m doing what he told me to. I’ll go as soon as I can, I promise. Will you tell Narissa?”
“No,” Arliss answered. She shook her head. “Absolutely not. Do I look like a fool? I’m not going to deliver a message like that!”
“I’ll take care of it myself,” Thainna said. “I’m sorry I asked. This whole thing is my job, not yours. I’ll go tonight.”
“Hae,” Arliss said. The cook looked as though she wanted to say something else, but turned away instead and hurried back into the servant’s kitchen.
The day felt strange. Not alien and otherworldly like the ones that came before it, the days since the Crest dropped Thainna into this insane situation.
All through Rikard’s meetings with the Lyceum delegates, he seemed distant and distracted. Despite his many protestations the night before, Rikard didn’t appear very interested in lingering with his guests. Even his evening visit from General Castor surprised Thainna.
“Castor,” Rikard greeted the Sun Court general shortly.
“Lord-Captain Mazrem. You look surprisingly intact, all things considered.”
“Hae, considering you and Tychon bought the empire with my blood and that of my men!”
He met General Castor in the atrium, like most of the others. The thick foliage let Rikard and his visitors maintain the illusion of privacy even as a dozen nearby guards and knights ensured their safety. Standing just on the other side of a fan-leaf palm, Thainna cocked her head and frowned. Lady Mazrem was off giving Castor’s wife a tour of the estate. Gaius was probably nearby, but Thainna couldn’t see him.
General Cadmus Castor was even taller than Rikard, and much older. The body under his rich red saela was leaner, thinner than the younger knight’s. Castor’s graying hair receded to sharp peaks at his brow and temples, making him look like a hunting bird. The Sun Court general stood well back from Rikard, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re a VEIL knight, Mazrem,” he answered coldly. “Blood is our coin. You always knew that.”
“A price paid by other men while you waited comfortably back in Carce! You’ve never known anything of blood, shed or drawn!”
“I came to pay my respects, Mazrem. Why don’t we get on with it? You turned a disastrous loss into the most resounding victory in history. You must be proud.”
Thainna peeked between the palm leaves. Rikard’s temper certainly seemed to be getting the better of him — again — but she didn’t hear any screaming yet. Rikard Mazrem stood still, facing General Castor with his hands balled into fists at his side. Castor regarded the young hero with a raised brow.
“Was it worth it, Castor?” Rikard asked. He leaned in close, but kept his hands at his sides. “Were Tychon’s orders worth the thousands of good men that died?”
“We all followed our orders, Mazrem. The Sun Court served in Dormaen with honor. We protected Emperor Tychon with our lives every day,” Castor said without hesitation. “But you and your boys won the day. I know your opinion of the Sun Court. Well, congratulations. Now it’s the opinion shared by all of Carce. Cowards, they said, too afraid to march into Fiore. We only followed imperial orders.”
Rikard’s jaw worked, but he said nothing. Castor took a step back and looked away, out across the emerald bounty of the atrium.
“Besides, the Star Court’s become the imperial guard since you left. How does that taste, Mazrem? Your men took what I deserved, even though they never wanted it.”
“Is that still what you want, Castor?” Rikard asked quietly.
“What makes you think I want anything more than to pay my respects, Mazrem?”
“I feel it in you.”
General Castor lifted his sharp chin. “Hae, then. The emperor’s offering you legens and I doubt you’ll decline. When you take the promotion, put the Sun Court back in charge of Emperor Tychon. Let us protect the heart and head of the empire. You don’t want the Star Court managing the palace guard and the Suns have proudly served for generations. Put things back to rights, Mazrem.”
“Why do you snow… ask this from me, Castor?” asked Rikard in frustration. “Wouldn’t it be better put to your emperor?”
“Tychon would never risk insult to your family or your court, Mazrem. That wouldn’t be politic. But if the order comes from you, then there’s no insult.”
“I’m not… I can’t make such decisions, Castor. I’m just a soldier.”
Castor scowled and raised his hand as though he might actually hit the younger knight, hero or not. Rikard tensed, half-crouching and pressing his thumbnail against the clasp of his cannula. The moment stretched taut before both men thought better of their actions and relaxed fractionally.
“You don’t know the difference between pride and honor,” said Castor. “You begrudge me what you care so little for yourself.”
“I think we’re at the end of respects!”
“Hae, then. I’ll find our wives and make my farewells.”
General Castor stalked away and quickly vanished into the jade shadows. Thainna was still recovering, surprised the argument had somehow managed not to turn into violence, when Gaius stepped out into the garden, drinking from a glass of pale wine.
“You certainly don’t pull your punches at all, Father,” said Gaius. “And you don’t have much love for that bitter old nut, do you?”
“Castor loves his honor like a shiny bauble. A glass star! It sits on a shelf, never touched, never used but so… bright and fragile.”
“That sounds a little cynical.”
“He is no friend to you, either,” said Rikard sadly, shaking his head at his son.
“No, he’s not. The whole Sun Court is sore over being deposed and that means trouble for the Moons and Stars, of course.”
“I don’t understand.”
Gaius finished off his drink and left the empty glass perched precariously on the edge of a marble planter. He combed fingers through his long black hair, so much like his father’s. Thainna crept closer and pulled down the edge of a palm frond. Was the hair closest to his scalp a different color? Lighter? Did Gaius Mazrem dye his hair?
“There’s not a lot of cooperation between the courts,” Gaius said. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Rikard repeated. “What’s being done?”
“What can anyone do? Just don’t get caught up between Suns and Stars. I overheard Castor’s little suggestion, though. The man is obsessed. He’s been politicking for decades to reposition the Suns in the imperial court,” Gaius said. He patted his stomach. “Well, I’d better find Mother and see if Castor said anything to her about your argument. You’re going to get an earful if he did, Father. See you at dinner!”
Gaius left Rikard alone in the atrium, looking lost and angry. Thainna emerged from her hiding place and circled wide to make sure that Rikard saw her before she spoke. She didn’t want to startle him.
“Rikard?”
The knight looked down at Thainna.
“You were close by,” he said. “But you didn’t stop my argument with Castor. I thought you would.”
“You didn’t lose any time in fighting with him. Was that why?” Thainna asked. “To say your piece before I jumped in and cut you off? Well, you didn’t seem about to hit him or spike him with your mind, or… whatever you do. So I kept quiet.”
“You’re surprised.”
“Hae,” Thainna admitted.
Rikard sighed and scrubbed at his eyes.
Thainna perched on the edge of a huge pot with a wide brim. “Are you alright, Captain Mazrem? You’ve been out of sorts all day. You were better off when I left last night.”
Rikard leaned beside where Thainna sat. He looked tired. “I am not the man I was when I left Terra.”
“I think that’s what I said. It’s been thirty years in another world. I expect that would change anyone. That’s normal, I think. I mean… I guess it would be, except that you’re the first it’s ever happened to.”
“I was with Laura last night,” Rikard told her heavily.
“With? You mean… together? Abed?”
Thainna wondered why a married couple doing what they had obviously done before — at least enough to have a son together — merited such unhappiness.
“I… heard only empty echoes,” Rikard answered her unvoiced question.
“Echoes? What do you mean?”
“That I am not the man Laurael married, not the one she loved. I need to be different. I want to be who I was.”
His every word felt stripped down, as raw as a skinned knee. Or was she just imaging it? Worse, was Rikard putting those thoughts into her head? Thainna shifted a little further away and contemplated more distance, but it wouldn’t save her from Rikard’s strange abilities.
“Time changes people,” Thainna said. She inched closer again. “It’s probably changed your wife, too. Look at your son. He’s older than you are!”
“It’s unnatural.”
She laughed aloud. “I suppose so, but so is everything else!”
“I don’t understand.”
Rikard sounded sulky. Thainna guessed she probably shouldn’t have laughed at him.
“You walked through half the city before Sir Gallard found you, hae?” Thainna asked. “Nothing here is natural, not like grass in a field or clouds in the sky. The whole world we build is unnatural, if you want to look at it that way. What about fosters? It’s natural to die from diseases and injuries. Stitching them up and treating them with medicines is hardly natural.”
Thainna felt like a fraud talking about it. The thought had been Thain’s, not her own, discussed at length during one of her many visits to the fostral. It was far from natural for him to still be alive, Thainna’s twin decided, but that made him no less grateful for every breath.
“Maybe. But it’s not the same. I don’t want to be… this,” said Rikard.
“Then don’t,” Thainna replied with a shrug. “Besides, my point is only half about you. It was also about Lady Laurael. She’s thirty years older than when you left. Maybe she’s changed, too. Bloody hells, who can even say she’s been faithful to you?”
Rikard snarled like an animal. “Don’t you dare say such things about Laura!”
Thainna jumped, but Rikard didn’t grab her.
“Do you know?” she asked, quietly in case anyone was listening. The guards might still be nearby, concealed in the foliage. “Do you really know? Have you looked inside her mind?”
“No! I would never break the silver crown… I would never do that to Laura! She is my wife and I trust her. It would be a violation to reach into her.”
“But it’s fine to do it to me, hae? To… reach into me?”
“She’s my wife!”
Thainna could think of nothing to say to that. It was hardly fair to expect Rikard to treat Thainna with the same deference that he did his own family. She didn’t give him the same trust and respect that she gave Thain, after all.
“Fair enough, I suppose,” Thainna said. “Reaching? Is that what you call it?”
Blinking, Rikard struggled to catch up with the change in conversation.
“It is… a word,” he answered. “Words don’t lock, don’t fit quite right. But, hae, I suppose.”
“Why do you call it that?”
“It’s the closest sound I know. I just reach for other things, besides the ones Terrans say. I reach into the bowl that holds the words and find other things, too.”
“If you want to be like you used to be, like a normal Terran, then you’ve got to stop talking about the rest of us as though we’re another race.” Thainna paused as an idea crept over her. What if, after so long, he had become something else…?
“No, I’m not Alterran,” Rikard said.
“Well, you’ve lived longer in Alterra than Terra, hae? I wasn’t sure. You got that question from me, didn’t you?”
“Hae. You were thinking about something else. A boy who looks like you. Thain. Who is he?”
“My brother,” Thainna told him. “My twin.”
“He’s… sick. You worry about him. Always.”
“Our mother was weak after delivering me and died giving birth to Thain. He had no air. He’s been ill ever since he was a baby.”
“You think of him a lot.”
“You think about your wife and son a lot.”
Rikard smiled and looked out into the dense, overlapping greenery of the atrium. “I love them. I would do anything for them.”
“And I would do anything for Thain.”
They sat together in silence until a guard came to fetch Rikard for dinner. Thainna remained alone in the atrium for a while longer, swinging her feet over the edge of the planter. For all of his strangeness, Rikard wasn’t a bad man. When he wasn’t strangling her or smashing another man’s face in, she rather liked him.
“I want to see Emperor Tychon.”
Laurael paused with an olive halfway to her mouth. She replaced it delicately on her plate.
“Bastil will make the arrangements, of course,” she said. “What’s changed your mind, my lord?”
“Maybe he’s just tired of your harping,” Gaius said. He hadn’t stopped eating.
“Be kind to your mother, Gaius,” Rikard told his son. He pushed a caper around on his plate with the tip of his bloodcap. The oily brine left a shiny snail-trail across the porcelain.
“No, I just… I want. Young men make mistakes,” Rikard said. “The war on Fiore was a costly mistake, but… but for all his acid, Castor made a good point to me. Every knight knows that he will be asked to spill blood — his own and his enemies. You… we have had thirty years of peace, a strong empire. Emperor Tychon has done that much.”
“Of all the men to change your mind, I can’t believe it was old Castor,” Gaius laughed.
Rikard looked over to his wife. Laurael felt his eyes on her and smiled. She approved of his decision. He had pleased her. Rikard was certain that his happy glow was visible all across Dormaen.
