Why?
People were understandably concerned when a Barrani war band, armed to the teeth, made their way to the Imperial Palace.
Ugh. Kaylin could just imagine the paperwork pouring out of the public facing office of the Halls of Law. And onto the Leontine’s desk. We’ll be back as soon as we can.
Come back in one piece. Come back, he corrected himself, when you can be certain of arriving in one piece. Nothing less is going to calm the Emperor down.
...He’s angry?
He’s beyond angry.
24
Lord Barian was waiting inside the Hallionne when Bellusdeo finally landed and once again assumed her human form. Lirienne was not. Kaylin wondered if this was significant. The Dragon looked worse for wear herself, but most of that wear was survivable. There were no obvious burns or rents in the Dragon’s armor; she was just incredibly rumpled. Especially her hair.
The familiar was once again slumped across Kaylin’s shoulders; she thought he might be snoring. She offered Lord Barian a bow, certain for once that it was the correct one.
He returned it, and his bow was not—according to the Diarmat school of etiquette—the correct response; it was far too deep. This did not make her feel more respected; it made her feel instantly more paranoid.
As well you should, Ynpharion said.
Barian looked paler, his color off. “I regret to be forced to ask you to remain within the Hallionne,” he said, before she could speak. She realized that he was actually injured; his color was off because he’d been bleeding. Etiquette did not cover what to do in circumstances such as this.
Wisdom should, Ynpharion snapped.
“What happened?” She was petty enough to ask the question just to hear Ynpharion’s version of a shriek.
“There was a misunderstanding. The war band remains on the threshold of Alsanis. Its leader has asked Alsanis for permission to enter; he has failed to grant it.”
“Why? If they try to harm Bellusdeo, he’ll stop them.”
Barian bowed his head for one long moment. When he lifted it, Kaylin could see that his eyes were blue—and narrow. He was, she realized, angry. Long years of experience as a Hawk stopped her from taking a step back, but he must have seen her stiffen; he held up one hand. “My apologies, Lord Kaylin. I am not angry with you; I am not angry with Lord Bellusdeo. Her...presence here has been explained to the satisfaction of both myself and the Lord of the West March. Neither you nor your companion have done anything to engender either anger or suspicion.”
In him. Kaylin did not say this aloud.
Given the difficulties you just faced while in the Hallionne, none of this should come as a surprise to you.
Kaylin blinked. “You can’t think that members of the war band are responsible for what happened in Alsanis?”
Because Ynpharion was not present in person, he felt free to continue to vent his frustration. Loudly, because no one else could hear it.
Barian’s answer was clear in his expression, although he shuttered it immediately. He was angry at what must feel like betrayal; he was Warden of the West March, and one of his duties was the Hallionne Alsanis. This meant, on the other hand, that he was not responsible for what had happened.
Ynpharion told her not to be so certain.
Alsanis, however, said, “No, he is not. Your namebound fails to explain the concept of Lord Barian’s duty—perhaps because he does not understand it himself. Regardless, no. Lord Barian was not responsible in any way for the intrusion.”
But he had some idea who was, Kaylin thought.
“Yes, he does.”
Barian looked distinctly less comfortable. “I am investigating,” he said. “But at the moment, investigations are...fraught. The war band is not under my immediate control; nor is it under the immediate control of the Lord of the West March, which is the greater danger.”
“Where is the Lord of the West March?”
“He is not within the Hallionne.”
“He’s not with the war band, either.”
“No, Lord Kaylin,” Alsanis said, when Lord Barian failed to answer. “He is, even now, almost in the heart of the green.”
Bellusdeo, silent until that moment, turned to the Hallionne’s Avatar. “Would we be expected to join him there?”
“Ah, no, Lord Bellusdeo. We believe that would be materially unsafe for you at this time.” The Avatar bowed. “Forgive the deplorable lack of hospitality. Terrano has informed me of the possible weaknesses in my connections to the portal gateways, and I am attempting to repair them. If you would join me? Terrano’s friends are waiting.”
Kaylin glanced at Terrano. She wondered why he’d followed a Dragon and a human instead of joining his friends, and couldn’t come up with an answer. But he did follow Bellusdeo and Alsanis as they traveled farther into the Hallionne.
*
Kaylin expected the dining hall to be noisy. It wasn’t. Although the cohort were all seated—in various postures, most informal—around a large dining table, they didn’t speak at all. Their faces implied speech—or rather, reactions to speech—but no words followed.
“I think,” Bellusdeo said quietly, “that I would find Mandoran much more pleasant if he were this silent.”
“He can’t be,” Allaron said, looking past his cohort to the new arrivals. “If he were, he couldn’t interact with the rest of you.”
“And here I was thinking,” the Dragon said in Elantran, “that the house would be much quieter with the lot of you as guests.”
“Mandoran does not approve of that,” Eddorian said, grinning broadly. “I will not, however, repeat what he just said.”
“Can I?” Karian asked.
“No,” Sedarias told him, frowning. “It was inappropriate. My apologies, Lord Bellusdeo, but—”
“He lives with her—and they’re both still alive. How inappropriate can it be?”
Oh yes, much quieter, Kaylin thought. The presence of two people whose names did not exist in the mental space the cohort occupied had instantly added color and sound to the Barrani cohort. Kaylin glanced at Terrano, and found the answer to the question she hadn’t asked him.
He stared at the table—at the cohort—his expression incredibly bleak. It was something she hadn’t expected to see on his face, he was otherwise so much like Mandoran. But...he couldn’t hear them, now. He couldn’t be part of their conversation, except in the normal way: by speaking out loud. By putting his thoughts, such as they were, into words—and at that, words that were well chosen enough to make the thought understood to the rest.
He hadn’t had to do that before.