Cast in Peril. Michelle SagaraЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter 8

      Fittings for Barrani clothing were definitely not the same thing as fittings for uniforms. For one, there was no Quartermaster. There were Barrani, but they appeared to have been vetted by Teela, because they treated Kaylin with abject—and genuine—deference. Kaylin found that, more than anything else in the Halls, truly unsettling, because Teela didn’t even seem to notice. Kaylin did. She usually noticed the exchanges between those who had all the power and those who had none; she’d been on the zero end of the scale for a majority of her life, and in her case, old habits died hard.

      These Barrani—two men and two women—also failed to notice the small dragon that was nesting, at the moment, in Kaylin’s hair. The dragon, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find this troubling.

      “What, exactly, is disturbing you, kitling? Has someone poked you with a needle?” Teela’s tone was cool and regal, although her eyes were green. She spoke Barrani, not Elantran.

      “Just—nothing. Nothing.”

      “If someone is clumsy enough to injure you, even in so minor a fashion, I will deal with it.”

      Kaylin wondered if Teela had said this on purpose, because Teela was perfectly capable of being deliberately cruel. “I can deal with it myself,” Kaylin said stiffly, this time in Barrani.

      “Ah. So you merely desire permission?”

      “Teela—”

      The Hawk lifted a hand. “Endure for a moment or two longer,” she said. “I will not have you presented to the rest of the Lords who have chosen the pilgrimage in inappropriate attire; as befits your station, you are expected—by title—to know better. If you fail to do so, it is not upon you that their derision will fall.”

      That stopped her cold. “Upon you?”

      “Very perceptive. If they insult you while I am present, I am bound by custom since I have claimed you as my kyuthe to defend you. It is therefore unlikely to occur, and if it does, it will be because an enemy of my kin wishes to engage me.” She smiled. Her smile was slender and very sharp. “I have no reluctance whatsoever to rid the Court of my enemies or the enemies of my line, but I wish to do it on my own terms. I would rather not reward them with a challenge over something as trivial as your attire; if they seek to provoke me, let them at least be creative.”

      Kaylin exhaled the rest of the breath she would have used for more angry words. “I’m never going to understand the Barrani.”

      “You needn’t sound so morose, Lord Kaylin. They are unlikely to understand you, either.”

      “Yes, but I’m unlikely to try to kill them for fun.”

      * * *

      At the end of two hours, the attendants offered graceful bows to Teela, who accepted them as her due. When they left, she glanced at the door and then spoke three sharp words. Or at least three sharp syllables; Kaylin didn’t recognize the language.

      “Many of my kin in particular dislike being ruled by a Dragon. Given the history of our two races, that is unlikely to surprise you. If it does,” she added darkly, “refrain from sharing.”

      “Very funny.” Kaylin found a nearby cushion that was about three sizes larger than anything she’d ever owned. She sat on it and then, surprised by how soft it was, sprawled flat on her back instead. The dragon leapt off her head before she landed, and set up a loud squawking that lasted a good thirty seconds, while Teela chuckled. “Now that one of the Barrani Arcanists has attempted to assassinate Bellusdeo, the Emperor is watching. And he’s pissed off.”

      “The Emperor is always watching. But yes, he is angry. It is possible that there exist, among the High Court, Lords who would do much to inflame his fury.”

      “Because they’re suicidal?”

      “Because it would rekindle war, Kaylin. They think, at this point, we would have the advantage in a war—and with the appearance of your Bellusdeo, that advantage is likely to dwindle with time.”

      “What do you think?”

      “War bores me,” she replied in a tone that perfectly suited the words. “And treason, only a little less. They are both so frequent and hold so few surprises; if you read up on the history of the Barrani—in the High Court texts, not the sanitized dribbles in the Halls—you will find that treason, like war, is an age-old practice for the very conservative among my kin. I feel it has been long enough that those same conservatives might consider it attractive again.

      “If you will therefore condescend to be moved, I will feed you and escort you off the grounds.”

      * * *

      The food was good. The escort, however, went less smoothly. Teela was there, all right, but as they left whatever set of rooms Teela occupied, the Halls got a little more crowded. It was the wrong kind of crowd; the Barrani didn’t do milling with any competence. Also, two of them were in armor.

      Teela didn’t appear to be concerned, if you failed to notice the color of her eyes. Kaylin tensed. This was a fight in which she might be helpful to Teela if circumstances were perfect. Sadly, perfect would involve the sudden disappearance of all but two of the Barrani who loitered here, obviously waiting.

      The glass dragon was sitting across her shoulders; she felt him shift position and lifted a hand to press his slender body firmly back down. “Not here,” she told him quietly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to separate.”

      He stopped struggling the minute the last of the words left her mouth, and pressed himself into her shoulder, looping his tail around her neck so tightly it reminded Kaylin why she didn’t care for necklaces.

      “Lord An’Teela.”

      “Lord Darrowelm.” Teela offered a polite—shallow—bow; it was, however, graceful. If the man to whom she addressed the bow was offended, it didn’t show; his eyes had been blue from the start. “Has the Emperor returned?”

      At this, Lord Darrowelm’s eyes narrowed. “He has not. The High Lord has convened an emergency session of the High Court. Given the constraints of time and the matter of the Emperor, he felt it possible that you had not been informed.”

      “The High Lord is, of course, correct.” Her eyes could not be any bluer.

      “Lord Kaylin, you are also commanded to attend.”

      * * *

      The six Barrani did not magically dissolve as they headed down the halls, Teela and Kaylin at their center. They made no move to draw weapons; something as trivial as speech didn’t apparently occur to them. Kaylin had been the Hawk on duty in marches to the gallows that were joyful in comparison. The small dragon on her shoulders had relaxed enough that Kaylin could easily breathe; he did insist on random hissing, which the Barrani ignored.

      The door that opened into the forest through which one had to pass to approach the High Lord’s throne was taller and wider than Kaylin remembered; it looked completely unfamiliar. On the other hand, the architecture of the High Halls seemed to be about as predictable as