City in the Sky (12 page)

“I want to speak to the man!”

Erik paused at the entrance to his grandmother's study in the Tarverro seat at the sound of the angry voice, a sheaf of papers under his arm. He'd been looking for her to ask her about the papers, a financial analysis of some of the new industrial opportunities in the city that were looking for investors, but the shouting caused him to pause at the door.

“He's quite busy, dear,” he heard Arien reply. “He is, after all,
septon
, and still newly confirmed. He has a great deal to do.”

“I have as much right to see him as anyone,” the voice snapped. “I am, after all,
sept
Tarverro. Unless you've decided to take that from me too?”

“Hella, I have no idea what you're angry about,” Erik heard his grandmother snap back. “You're receiving as much – if not
more
– of the
sept
's money since he took over. What are you complaining about?”

Hella, Erik knew, was his aunt's name. He really should go in, he realized, but the conversation was quite interesting.

“They've all left, mother,” the voice told Arien, cracking towards the end. “All of them. Since
he
turned up, I haven't had a single suitor.”

Erik's conscience finally won the battle with his curiosity, and he stepped calmly into the office.

“I don't know about you,” he said calmly, “but that doesn't sound like they were all that interested in
you
and not your money.”

Hella spun, and Erik found himself facing a quite attractive Aeraid woman in her early thirties. He wondered why she was only now receiving suitors, but then noticed the brass and gold ring on her right middle finger. The ring marked a member in good standing of the First Society, the organization of academics that all teachers of higher learning belonged to. Such a ring meant she was qualified to teach students at the highest level, and such rings would
take
until thirty or so to acquire, even with a
sept
's money backing you.

“What would you know?” she demanded hotly.

“Not much,” Erik admitted with a smile and a shrug, “it just seemed obvious.”

The woman paused before responding, eyeing Erik's face. She seemed to swallow an angry reply, and said instead: “You're Erik, aren't you?”

“Indeed, Aunt Hella,” he replied politely. “I regret the loss of your suitors,” he continued, “but surely those you've lost sought only your position. I doubt, for that matter, that you've lost
all
of them,” he finished.

The woman sighed. “Hori asked me to dine with him, now that I'm back, but… it's
Hori
.”

Erik raised an eyebrow at his grandmother, who chuckled quietly. “Hori was one of her fellow students when she decided to go for the Society as a mathematic. He's a mage,” she added, parenthetically.

Despite his aunt's poor showing so far, Erik was impressed by that. To achieve Society standing, or so he was told, was hard enough in any discipline, but math stood up along with magic as the hardest; and, unlike magic, couldn't be made easier by any natural talent beyond the ability and willingness to learn and think.

“And what's wrong with Hori?” Erik asked his aunt. “After all, he doesn't seem put off by my existence.”

“It's
Hori
,” Hella replied. “I've known him my whole life. He's boring.”

“What does he do?” Erik asked.

“He's an experimental mage,” Hella replied. “Works on new battle magic. Half the time when I see him, he's regrowing eyebrows.”

Erik's eyebrow arched again, almost on its own. “That's
boring
?” he asked.

Hella paused for a moment, considering. “But it’s
Hori,
” she burst out.

Arien shook her head. “If that's how you feel, that's how you feel,” she told her daughter. “Feel free to turn him down and look for others – even without the entire
sept
as your dowry, you're a wealthy and attractive member of the Society. You'll find some more suitors soon enough.”

“Don't be hasty,” Erik's aunt replied, her tone thoughtful. She looked at Erik strangely. “I hadn't thought about that, really,” she admitted. “I've just known him for so long, it's hard to remember what he does.”

“Give him a chance,” Erik advised. “If it doesn't work out,” he shrugged, “tell me and I'll have some of the burlier
kep
discourage his interest.”

“Don't you
dare
!” Hella snapped, and then stopped mid-breath, realizing how thoroughly she'd been had. “Maybe I will give him a chance then,” she told Erik, then flounced out, bestowing a small smile on her nephew as she did.

“Phew,” Erik said quietly as she left, turning back to his grandmother. “That's my aunt Hella?”

“That's your aunt Hella,” Arien confirmed. “She should have married Hori
years
ago – the two of them were head over heels when they first went for their rings, but the studies got in the way, and then Emil died and all those beautiful young men started trying to woo her for the chance to inherit the
sept
.” The tiny old woman shrugged. “It went to her head, I think. Hori's not given up – any experimental mage
has
to be persistent, thankfully – and she really does like him when she thinks about it.”

Erik's grandmother brushed her hands off, as if leaving her daughter to her own affairs. “Now, I'm sure you had some other reason for coming to see me,” she said briskly.

Aeradi custom was to keep the period of betrothal quite short. The custom, as far as Erik could tell, was mainly designed so that sailors could get betrothed and then marry before their ship left. Certainly, as Lerrit had received the master's berth he'd been expecting, that was the reason for it in this case.

One week to the day after Erik's duel with Kels, he found himself in the Square of the Gods again. This time, however, he was standing as patron to Lerrit at their open-air wedding.

The wedding party was quite small, as
sept
Rakeus was in official mourning for Kels. A group of
kep
Rakeus in full ceremonial armor surrounded Deria, and Hiri stood at their head as Erik, with two of his own
kep
in armor, escorted Lerrit to them.

“Who comes to the house of
sept
Rakeus?” Hiri demanded, beginning the ritual.

“A man to wed the daughter of the
sept
,” Lerrit replied.

“Harrumph,” Hiri replied. “Who would vouch for this man, that I will know he is worthy of my kinship?” he demanded.

Erik stepped forward. “I, Erik
septon
Tarverro, vouch for this man, that he is honest and of good standing, a worthy husband to any daughter, a worthy son to any father.”

“Then I am satisfied,” Hiri replied. He stepped aside, and the circle of
kep
opened, allowing Lerrit to walk to his bride.

Erik and his
kep
filled the gap in the circle, leaving the two youths standing alone in the middle of a circle of armored men. Every man took a single step back, opening a space between them, and the wives and other female guests stepped into the gaps, laying a circle of flowers around the couple.

As the circle of flowers was closed, Lerrit took Deria's hands in his, and went to one knee. “I ask the right to take your hands in marriage,” he began, “to hold your heart and guard your thoughts as my own. I ask the right to be the father of your children, the provider of your home and the bringer of your dreams.”

Deria sank to her own knees – the reason that even the bride's wedding clothes were trousers in Aeraid custom – and pressed his hands to her heart. “My heart you hold already,” she told him, only barely audible to the circle around them. The words weren't part of the ritual, but none of the broadly smiling men or sniffling women saw any reason to object.

“Those are the rights of a husband,” she said loudly, stepping back into the ritual. “They are not the rights of a day but the tasks of a lifetime. Are you prepared to keep to these tasks and these vows through fire and rain, through earth and air, to the ends of the world and until the end of our lives?”

“I am prepared,” Lerrit replied.

“Then I am also,” she said, rising with him, their hands still linked. “I swear that I will keep your home, your heart, and your children. I swear to be the guardian of your dreams, your thoughts and your love. I will do you good and no harm all my days. I am your wife.”

“I swear that I will guard you and keep you, through fire and rain, through earth and air, to the ends of the world and until the ends of our lives,” he replied. “I will do you good and no harm all my days. I am your husband.”

Erik and Hiri stepped forward and broke the circle of flowers, opening a path for the newly wedded couple to come out of the circle. Behind them, the
kep
left the circle and formed a path coming out from the gap, raising their swords to create an arch.

As the couple passed each pair of
kep
they lowered the swords behind them, until the couple had passed out of the arch of swords, and the ceremony was over. Lerrit was now a member of
sept
Rakeus, and married to the woman he loved.

Erik smiled at the young couple – neither of them was much older than him – and considered life's little ironies. He'd made the offer to sponsor Lerrit as a political move, an attempt to gain an ally to help his survive the hazardous shoals of the system he'd suddenly found himself in, but he'd discovered that he honestly liked the young man. His sponsorship of Lerrit, in the end, had become more than a political move. He'd have done it anyway, even if he hadn't been gaining a strong ally in Newport's games of power.

His smile faded as he caught the faces of several of Hiri's
kep
. Three or four of them had formed a little knot, and were glaring at Erik. Kels had not been popular with his father's
kep
, but he had been
septi
Rakeus, and some of the
kep
Rakeus believed that Erik had no right to sponsor a man to marry the sister of a man he'd killed.

They weren't the only ones who thought so, either. Erik had been drawing sidelong looks from people ever since the duel. He was starting to think he needed a break from Newport.

“They're idiots, and you know it,” Hiri said sadly into the silence of Erik's thoughts. “They never even liked Kels, but he was
sept
. I don't blame you for what happened. Don't blame yourself.”

Erik shook his head. “It's hard not to,” he replied. “I keep thinking there had to have been some way I could have beaten him without killing him.”

“You tried,” the father of the man Erik had killed replied. “Gods man, you nearly let him kill
you
, you tried so hard.”

“I failed.”

“Yes, you did,” Hiri replied. “Part of me hates that. He was my son, for all our problems, and I mourn him. But you
tried
, and no one ever even said you should.”

Erik turned away, his eyes falling onto the crowds drifting through the square. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but I grow tired of being the target of dark looks.” He shook his head again. “I think I need some time away from here.”

“How long?” Hiri asked.

“I don't know,” Erik replied softly, “why?”

The older man shrugged. “It was a thought I'd had,” he told Erik. “Most of the
septi
s and
septon
s are reserve officers in the guard. It doesn't require much effort of us, though I fear if ever called upon many of them will fail in their responsibilities. It is, however, a symbol of our service to the city. However, to become an officer in the guard, you need two things: a sponsoring officer from the guard, who I'm sure that between you, me and your grandmother, we could come up with; and combat experience. What's preferred is a tour as either a non-com or a junior officer on a trade ship.”

“Which would get me out of Newport,” Erik said softly.

“And give you a close introduction to the true source of the Aeradi's power,” Hiri continued. “That is not something to disregard. I can probably arrange such a tour aboard a ship of mine, if you wished.”

Erik considered. He could arrange the tour himself, but inevitably, if he arranged it himself, he would end up on a Tarverro owned ship. Being the owner of the ship might cause certain issues in chains of command and so forth. Shipping out on a Rakeus owned ship should manage to avoid those.

“Yes, I would like that,” he replied.

“Is it true?”

Arien's voice caused Erik to look up from the solid wooden desk in his office – once his grandfather's office – in the heart of the Tarverro seat.