“And you, Patachi Maerler?” said Rhillian, fixing him with her most penetrating emerald stare. “Do you too desire this war?”
“No more than the last time you asked me. War is bad for business, M'Lady. It is no secret that the Maerler alliance is on the decline in Petrodor, relative to the enormous wealth of the Steiners. I would do well for my family merely to hold onto what we have, and perhaps reverse our decline in this city. I have no time to worry about foreign empires and old religious relics the archbishop insists should be returned to Enora. I have better things to worry about.”
“Then why have the priesthood not discarded him entirely?” Errollyn pressed as they followed a guard back down the long, dark stairway to the base of Sharptooth. “Clearly he offers himself to them as a potential leader of this army, or they would have abandoned him by now and thrown all their support behind Steiner.”
“It makes no difference,” said Kiel. “Steiner moves against us. They should be punished, as should all who would threaten Saalshen. We should make of them an example, as Maldereld once made an example of King Leyvaan and his army.”
They spoke in the alderese dialect, used mostly amongst the serrinim to discuss scholarly matters.
“You fear that I shall allow Patachi Maerler to win a decisive victory,” said Rhillian. “I know it is Kessligh's fear, he's expressed it to me often. But the balance here is fixed. Errollyn, you see the way the houses balance each other. It is kel'an tai.” In alderese, the term meant a symmetry of numbers. “Maerler may desire to win, yet the obstacles before him are vast. Even he cannot overcome the symmetry.”
“You're thinking like a serrin,” Errollyn retorted in profound frustration. “This…this symmetry, it's not a concept easily applied to human civilisations-”
“All the universe is a symmetry, and such symmetries encompass all,” said Rhillian with certainty. “Besides, even should Steiner fall to ruin, his lesser allies would survive. Maerler would face continuing opposition from trading families determined to preserve their fortunes. And Patachi Maerler is right in one thing-Maerler is much weaker than Steiner.”
“You think to control him?” Errollyn knew that Sasha sometimes suffered from the urge to strangle someone. His current frustration was not so intense, yet it was profound nonetheless. There had to be an angle of attack through Rhillian's carefully constructed logic, yet he could not find it. “We have neither the power nor the influence to control anyone! You cannot put a great grey bear on a leash and take it for a walk, Rhillian. It walks us. Or worse, turns and eats us.”
“There are always risks,” Rhillian said as the stairs turned a corner, and switched back the other way. “But they are less than the risks of doing nothing. We cannot value stability above change, Errollyn. For too long, we have attempted to purchase peace with the stability of tyrants, and achieved neither peace nor stability.”
“Errollyn does not speak for stability,” said Aisha from behind Errollyn. She spoke the dialect with greater delicacy than any of them and there was concern in her voice. “He speaks for change. He merely observes that a serrin perspective is an imperfect platform from which to view human society and thus judge the nature of impending change.”
“He would hand over the direction of the talmaad to the humans,” said Kiel, distastefully. “Into the hands of those who wish us dead.”
“You think the Nasi-Keth want us dead?” Errollyn snapped.
“I'm quite sure that Alaine would not care if we all dropped dead tomorrow.”
“Kessligh's friends lost lives in Riverside,” Errollyn said coldly, “fighting to stop the armament of forces preparing to attack the Saalshen Bacosh. You give precious little respect to their sacrifice, Kiel.”
“I did not ask them to make it,” said Kiel, unconcerned. “Saalshen has for too long placed the fate of the serrinim in the hands of humans. That time has passed. Either we show that we act for ourselves, or we admit weakness and invite our enemies to destroy us.”
“I agree,” said Rhillian. How surprising, Errollyn thought bitterly, with a stare at the low, rock ceiling. “I gained this post because I demonstrated to the councils that I could act, and act fast. As did we all, to varying extents. We follow the course, Errollyn. Should Steiner continue these preparations, he shall pay.”
“You dress up these ignoble thoughts with pretty words,” Errollyn muttered. “Your independence is just another word for bigotry.”
Rhillian not only stopped, but came back up the stairs at him. Errollyn stopped as Rhillian put her nose to within a hand's breadth of his own. Her gaze was hard. “That's one hell of an accusation,” she said, putting a finger against his chest, all trace of subtlety vanished from her tone. Further down the stairs, their guard paused with his lamp, surprised to have lost his charges. “You think I don't care about these people? I'm hoping to save these people. Kessligh is right. Saalshen is a good influence on humanity, we've demonstrated it often. If we don't survive, humanity's future is bleak. Worse, if we and they end up locked in constant war, we may well destroy each other. But I will not sacrifice Saalshen's greatest hope for survival because your objections make you uncomfortable!”
“And if we gain victory at the cost of everything that makes serrin serrin?” asked Errollyn. Finally, Rhillian looked troubled. But whether that was at the fact of his objection, or its content, Errollyn could not tell. “Will we truly have won?”
“Failure is annihilation,” Rhillian said softly. “Anything better than that is serendipity.”
Alythia entered her father-in-law's private chambers with trepidation. Patachi Elmar Halmady, her husband Gregan, Gregan's brother Vincen, and their uncle Raymon watched her enter, food half eaten on their plates. Alythia had heard loud voices before she'd knocked on the door. Now, the air seemed strained, and Gregan looked uncomfortable.
“You asked for me, Father?” said Alythia, with a curtsy before the men. Elmar Halmady's usually calm face now wore a frown. Vincen's look was unpleasant, almost leering. Alythia pitied Vincen's wife Rovina and was glad she'd been wed to Gregan instead.
“Daughter,” said Elmar. He was nearly blond, with a lean face and blue eyes beneath drooping eyelids. “Are you well this evening?”
The question made Alythia uncomfortable. Uncle Raymon's eyes bore into her, as if suspecting her of something. He was a big man, with a beard covering his second chin, and heavy, dark brows. “Quite well, Father,” she said. She'd been dining in her own chambers with her maids, feeling angry, and lonely, in truth. She'd been almost relieved to receive this summons, if only for some insight into the events that caused turmoil in the hallways of late.
“Do you like this family, Daughter?” asked Patachi Halmady. “Are you happy here? Or do you regret your wedding day?”
Alythia blinked, astonished. “Father?” The patachi was usually reserved and intellectual, preferring to discuss the arts or trade, rather than engaging in anything emotionally taxing. But his lips were pressed thin and sour, and he seemed displeased. Alythia tried her best, disarming smile. “Have I done something wrong, Father? I may speak the language, but I am still very recently from Lenayin-I'm never entirely certain when I've offended someone. Please tell me if I do. I am trying very hard, I assure you.”
“Jasin Daran has been released of his service to House Halmady,” said Uncle Raymon bluntly.
Alythia frowned. “Jasin…?”
“Of House Daran. Handsome lad. Patrolled the walls for us.” Alythia's breath caught in her throat. Surely they could not have…She held her composure with an effort. “You were passing him messages to take to Patachi Daran. You met at his sister's wedding feast, but a week ago. You were observed to make eyes with him.”
“I did nothing of the sort!” Alythia exclaimed, genuinely outraged.
“Jasin confessed,” Raymon continued, his eyes dark with suspicion. “He took your correspondence to Patachi Daran, who would reply in turn.”
“Patachi Daran is an ally of this house and of House Steiner!” Alythia exclaimed. “He and I had an interesting conversation at the birthday feast, and he insisted we should correspond…”
“Oh-ho, is that all it was?” said Vincen, with amusement.
Alythia glared at him. “I'm never allowed to do anything, I've been cooped up in my room for the better part of the last week, and I'm only allowed out of the house for formal occasions…what do you expect? I want some friends! I want some company! At least I'd like to entertain some of the other ladies…and I could be so useful too, you've no idea how much information there's to be had from women's chatter! Why won't you let me be a full part of this family?”
“You sneak behind my back,” Gregan said quietly. He sounded hurt.
“Oh no, my love! I just…”
“They say you are a whore.” Still Gregan did not look at her. “My mother has always said so, and now it seems her words are true.”
“You think I bedded Patachi Daran? How would that even be possible, given that I'm never allowed from the house?”
“You are disobedient!” Gregan shouted, his voice trembling. “A woman of virtue shall always obey her husband.” Dear gods, Alythia thought to herself in despair, I've married a child.
“Who else have you been contacting behind our backs?” asked the patachi.
“Who else?” She was missing something here. Suddenly, she could feel it-the cold, creeping sensation that something was going on that she did not entirely understand. Something dangerous. “What…why do you suddenly accuse me?” She forced a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “What do you think…?”
“Cousin Gilbrato is missing,” said the patachi. “It seems almost certain that he has met some foul end. Someone seeks to damage us. Someone with knowledge.”
Gilbrato…the priest? Alythia recalled the man at the wedding feast. A young Halmady man, groomed from childhood to represent the interests of his family in the most powerful institution in Petrodor. The priesthood took men from each of the families, and was influenced by each in turn. Now…Gilbrato was dead? How could that possibly concern her? Unless they thought…unless they thought…Alythia stared at them in horror. “Surely you don't think that I…?”
“You show disloyalty. You pass messages beyond our walls. Someone seeks to undermine us. There is a rumour that Lady Marya Steiner has recently been in contact with your feral sister, the Nasi-Keth. Have you been passing messages to her also?”
“To Sasha? Good gods no! Sasha and I have always hated each other! We can barely stand in the same room without a fight breaking out!”
“You claim to be nothing like her,” Gregan said hotly, “yet you both come from the same highland stock! Treacherous, uncivilised and lacking in womanly virtue!”
Alythia swallowed hard, and stared at the wood-boarded floor. “You accuse me unfairly, my husband.” She struggled to keep the emotion from her voice. This was not going at all the way she had planned. “I am hurt.”
Gregan looked away, tore a piece of bread and wiped his plate with it to cover his emotion. For a moment, Alythia thought he might apologise. “Jasin will live,” Uncle Raymon said darkly. “He is Patachi Daran's nephew, and they each have uses. But the scars will take a time to heal. Have a care, dear niece. It would be a shame to tarnish so royal a beauty.”