but I must also remind myself: I am not ruler here. This is not my country.”
* * *
The Hawklord had done Kaylin the kindness of opening the doors, which otherwise operated by wards. He was standing to one side of an inactive mirror; Kaylin could see herself—and Bellusdeo, and a silent Severn—as they approached.
It was no surprise to Kaylin that the Aerian’s eyes were a martial blue. He tendered Bellusdeo a very correct bow—which in Aerians involved wing motions and stiffness in the right order—and rose. “My apologies,” he said. “Sergeant Kassan sent Kaylin on patrol in the East Warrens. It has been struck from her duty list for the time being.”
“For the time being, meaning, if I am to accompany her?”
The Hawklord said nothing.
“I believe,” Bellusdeo said, because it wasn’t her job or her dreamed-of promotion on the line, “that the reason Sergeant Kassan chose to send the private and the corporal to the East Warrens at this time was because I have been given blanket Imperial permission to accompany her. He expected difficulty of a type that the Barrani Hawks, and only the Barrani Hawks, could easily handle.”
“There were other teams he could have chosen.”
“Yes. But none of those teams happen to have a Dragon as a shadow.”
The Hawklord was not Leontine. “Yes, a remarkable coincidence, since I am confident that no one under my command would knowingly put you at risk in an encounter that might involve strange or dangerous magics.” His tone was bland. “Having made that coincidental decision, he has been informed that it will not be made again. We are all, I am certain, much happier.” He turned to Kaylin then. Although he’d offered Bellusdeo the very respectful bow of an inferior to a superior, he had no intention of allowing the Dragon to commandeer the discussion. He had made a decision. It was not hers to argue.
“You claim to have made contact with the fieflord of Candallar.”
Kaylin nodded.
“You are certain.” His glance moved to Severn.
“Yes.” Severn answered the question, but offered nothing else. He did not, however, bristle.
“Was he in the warrens to meet with my Hawks?”
“He was to meet, he said, with friends. In my opinion, yes; without corroborating evidence—”
The Hawklord held up a hand, which stopped Severn. “You have heard that there was difficulty this morning.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve heard, no doubt, that a political storm is brewing in the Barrani High Court.”
“Actually,” Kaylin said, “we hadn’t. Until this morning.”
“Candallar may well be part of that. What is the word in the office?”
“About?”
“This morning’s incident.”
“That Moran will make certain we belong in critical care if we show up in the infirmary for any other reason than that we already need it, sir.”
The Hawklord almost winced. “Sergeant dar Carafel is never going to leave the infirmary at the current rate of emergency.”
Kaylin, who still felt that Moran’s entire race had treated her horribly, couldn’t see this as a bad thing—for either the Hawks or Moran. Clearly the Hawklord had a different opinion, and she managed to keep her own to herself. Or at least to keep the words that would express it that way. “Teela is in the infirmary.”
“I was not informed of her presence there,” was the bland reply. It implied that he wished to remain ignorant. Ignorance, after all, had its uses. “At ease, Private.”
Given his eyes, ease was impossible, but she did relax her stance.
“What is happening?”
“I’m not Barrani, sir.”
He turned, then, to Bellusdeo. “Lord Bellusdeo, I am aware that you are not Barrani, but you have experience with both politics and assassination attempts. In your opinion, what has caused this...conflict among my Barrani Hawks?”
Bellusdeo’s eyes had shaded into a more natural gold. Orange deepened the color, but she was not struggling to contain Dragon rage. “You are aware,” she said, “of Teela’s companions.”
He nodded.
“I believe the political difficulties involve them.”
Kaylin wanted to kick her. She also wanted to continue to breathe. She said nothing, but, because she was Kaylin, was not entirely silent about it.
“And the fieflord?”
After a much longer pause, Bellusdeo replied. “I admit that I do not understand your fiefs or their lords. I understand their function; I understand why they are considered a distasteful necessity. I do not, however, understand why the lords of the Towers themselves are left to almost random chance. Were this my city, we would have chosen those Lords ourselves, and we would have had strict criteria by which to do so.”
Judging by expression, the Hawklord agreed. He was not, however, he Emperor. “I am not a scholar. My understanding of Shadow and its nature is pragmatic, but it is not deep. If you wish to discuss the nature of the Towers, it is to the Dragon Court you must look. But in my superficial and meagre understanding, the Towers have a sentience of their own. It is said that the Towers choose. Private Neya and Corporal Handred were present when the Tower of Tiamaris adopted its newest Lord; perhaps they will shed some light on the subject.” But not now, his tone implied. “Corporal Danelle was not forthcoming when questioned.”
“The assassin in question—”
“The incident in question involved the corporal, yes. She is not, I am told, in the infirmary to finish the job she started, or is said to have started. The Barrani in question is technically alive.”
“Technically, sir?”
“I expect we will receive a writ of exemption at any moment that will excuse his attempt to assassinate one of my Hawks. I have been told that the mirror network has been somewhat compromised, and not all of our messages are currently arriving. And no, Private, you are not considered an expert in the mirror networks; we have put in an official request for the oversight of an Imperial Mage.”
“That’ll take three days, sir.”
“It is a pity that the Imperial Mages are so heavily overburdened with official business that we are required to wait, yes.”
“You expect a writ of exemption?” Bellusdeo said. It was on the tip of Kaylin’s tongue, but she bit it. She could practically taste blood.
“I expect a writ and a demand for remand of custody, yes.”
Kaylin had expected a writ of exemption. She had not considered what most frequently happened when such writs were exercised: the criminal ended up as a conveniently packaged corpse on or near the steps of the Halls of Law. She paled. “So...we have three days to figure out what the hells is going on?”
“Given it involves Barrani, politics and a fieflord, I would guess that three days will not be nearly enough time. Three days is also not an exact measure. There is some possibility that the Imperial Order of Mages will, in fact, consider the demands of the Halls of Law a serious emergency, and rearrange their pressing schedules to accommodate us.”
Kaylin snorted.
“You will not be patrolling the warrens again.”
“Sir. Does that mean we’re back to Elani?”
“The duty roster is otherwise in the hands of the sergeant. I expect the difficulties with the Barrani to be resolved before the writ arrives. Did Candallar give any indication of what he wants from his involvement in this