storm (6 page)

            “Relax,” Caeru said to Cal.  “You have to get used to this.  I'm Tigrina, remember, and you are Tigron.  We are supposed to be seen together.”

            “I remember,” Cal muttered.  This had never been part of his vision of reunion with Pellaz.

            A har with pearly-scaled skin swooped to Caeru's side, clearly having recognised him immediately.  He stared at Cal askance and asked how he might be of service.  Caeru said they would like to be conducted to General Aldebaran's party, and then ordered the most expensive liquor the premises could offer.  No mention of currency was made, but Caeru knew that later an outrageous bill would be sent to Phaonica, to be handled by the Tigron's office.

            As they approached Ashmael's table, the general stood up, but this could hardly have been a gesture of respect.  There was a hard edge to his voice as he uttered a greeting.  He gave Caeru a particularly chilling glance.  “It isn't often we see the Tigrina out in the city at night,” he said.

            “It isn't often I get the chance,” Caeru responded, more from instinct than sense.  He generally avoided Pell's friends, who all frequented establishments of this type.

            “Now you have an escort,” Ashmael said.  “How charming and convenient.  Are you fulfilling the role adequately, Cal?”

            Cal directed a single dark glance at Ashmael and sat down.  Caeru realised that if Ashmael continued to snipe in this manner, Cal would be lost to him by the end of the evening.  “I thought Cal should see more of what his colleagues get up to when they're playing,” Caeru said.  “If I hadn't persuaded him to come here, he'd have been working on his own all night.”

            “Can't have that,” Ashmael said, raising his glass.

            Cal ducked his head.  “I was forced into it.”

            “You don't say!” Ashmael said, grinning.

            Everyhar in the club was discretely observing Ashmael's table.  By morning, the scandal of Cal daring to escort the Tigrina to a club would be all over Immanion.

            Music pulsed out into the perfect Almagabran evening, spilling out of the open shutters along with sensual perfume that had been scalded by the hot dancing bodies.  Cal appeared to enter into the spirit of the evening.  He drank, though not to excess, and danced a few times, but Caeru could feel his wariness, an animal instinct that was teetering towards the imperative to flee.  He hadn't come this far, nor gone through so much, to risk offending Pellaz.

            In a way, we are married, Caeru thought, and that is bizarre.  He thinks so too.  I know he does.

            After midnight, more hara came to the club, expanding its clientèle to the point where it was no longer comfortable.  It was impossible to talk, because the music was so loud.  Caeru realised he could achieve nothing more in this place.  He yelled into Cal's ear:  “I want to leave now.  Do you want to stay or will you come back to Phaonica with me?”

            “I'll come with you,” Cal said, on his feet before he'd finished speaking.

            They sat in silence in the carriage, while Caeru paid more attention than was necessary to the passing sights.  This hadn't worked out how he'd planned, but then, how had he planned it anyway?  He sighed.  “This hasn't worked, has it?”

            Cal stared at him unflinchingly.  “What were you expecting?”

            “I don't know.  Something new.  Is he always going to be at your shoulder?  If so, that's a shame.  I dared to think we might be friends, given all the effort you've put into charming me.  It was an act, wasn't it?  You never thought you'd reach me.  Now I'm being nice and you're running scared.”

            Cal raised his hands.  “Your feud with Pell is big and it had been going on for a long time before I got here.  Don't try to involve me in it.”

            “But you
are
involved.  You're here.  Didn't you take magical training or something to transform yourself into a good har?  If you want the job of Tigron, you have to take all of it on.  You have to take me on, because I don't let you do otherwise.”

            Cal rubbed at his face.  “Back off, Rue.  You've had your fun.”

            Caeru relented.  “I'm sorry.  I really am.  I wanted this to be different, but I can't help going for the jugular.  I hope you understand why.”

            “Yeah.”

            The carriage ascended the curving driveway to the palace.  Mellow lights gleamed out from a hundred windows.  “Your home,” Caeru said.  “Isn't it beautiful?”

            “You are astounding,” Cal said.  “You could have just said, “don't set foot in my apartment again”.  Believe it or not, that would have worked.  You didn't need to go to all this bother.”

            “Strangely enough, that was not my intention.”

            Cal grimaced.  “Pell's not wrong about you.”

            Caeru laughed.  “Thanks.  I said I was sorry.  Come and have a nightcap.”

            “No.”

            “Please.”  Caeru stared into Cal's eyes, searching for some spark, some glimmer of complicity.  “I took your place.  You took mine.  Somehow, we have to let that go.  Both of us.”

            Cal sighed deeply.  “All right.  We'll talk.  But the minute you start yapping like a bitch, I'm out of there.”

Caeru's staff had thoughtfully lit a fire in his sitting-room, because the evening warmth had slipped away to chill.  A decanter of brandy and two glasses stood waiting on a table.  Caeru detected Velaxis' hand in that.  He poured himself a glass and drank it quickly while Cal was still padding around trying to find a comfortable place to sit.

            “Brandy?” Caeru asked, offering Cal a glass.  “The best, imported from Thaine.”

            Cal shifted in his seat, took the glass and sniffed it.  “Reminds me of Saltrock,”

            “Once the home of your erstwhile friend, Seel, of course,” Caeru said.  “Another of my great admirers.  And yours too, now, from what I've heard.”

            Cal cast him a glance and Caeru raised a hand, "Sorry, I promised, I know.  I'll not say anything."

            "It's in your blood."

            "No it's not.  It's in my mouth.  I can't stop myself."

            Cal laughed, an unexpected sound.  "This is insane."

            Caeru walked behind Cal's chair and watched the back of his head as he drank.  "I'm not always like this.  It's you.  It's fear, maybe, or something..."

            Cal glanced round at him.  " I'm not always like this either.  Usually, I could take you out with a single well-aimed word."

            "So, here we are, tongue-tied, spitting out inappropriate knots."

            "Too much alike, maybe..."

            "They say Pell seduced me initially because I looked a little like you.  Not that I do, of course.  It's just the hair, but, who knows?"

            Cal grinned.  "You'll never be as wondrous as me, Rue."

            "I know that."

            "Aha, a concession!  One point to me."

            Caeru smiled, and leaned forward.  He didn't mean to do it, but somehow he was compelled to put his mouth against Cal's own.  He felt the sudden sigh of breath, saw a vague flurry of images.  He could feel how Cal's neck pained him, twisted as it was, and saw how he had been waiting for this to happen all night, from the moment he'd agreed to go to the club.  Underneath the sparring, all the time, had been this.  Cal didn't pull away for a good half minute.

            “Rue, no...”

            Caeru ran his fingers through Cal's hair.  “Why not?”

            "It's not a good idea.  You know it isn't."

            "What are you afraid of?  Didn't Pell once say to you that all he owned was yours?  He did say that, didn't he?"

            "He didn't mean this.  He didn't mean you scheming to get me while he was away, so that you could act out your own private vengeance plan.  If you are mine and I am yours, then Pell should be part of it too."

            "I cannot imagine a greater abomination."

            "I'm sure you can."

            Caeru leaned on the back of the chair.  Cal's neck was still twisted.  He must be in agony by now.  "It's not anything like vengeance," Caeru said.  "The truth is that I want to know why I've suffered all these years.  I want to find out for myself.  And you are curious to know, because I am the har with whom Pell conceived a child.  You never did that together, and you know how powerful aruna has to be to achieve such a thing, because you've been a hostling yourself.  You want me too, Cal.  Admit it."

            "Yes, I want you.  Who wouldn't?  You know your assets, I'm sure.  We should talk about this, and then I should talk with Pell."

            Caeru laughed.  "You must still be insane after all, Calanthe.  Pellaz can't stand the sight of me.  I was supposed to be nothing more than a one-night stand.  He abused me.  He made me trust him enough to let him do that unspeakable thing to me.  Then he left me.  When are you going to wake up?  Pellaz is not the fantasy you have in your head.  Pellaz died.  He never came back.  Can't you understand that?  The har who lives now is something other than the human boy you stole away from home.  You can never have him back."

            It was clear that Cal had now heard more than enough.  He uttered a growl, leapt to his feet and wheeled round, so swiftly and aggressively that Caeru instinctively took a few steps back.  "I could justify wringing your scrawny neck, if I thought about it long enough," Cal said in a chilly tone.  "You know I'm capable."

            "Get out," Caeru said.  His voice was calm, but inside he was terrified.  He know exactly how capable of murder Cal was.  He could almost see himself lying dead and broken on the carpet.

            "Why?" Cal laughed.  "This is wonderful.  Can't you take what you dish out?  You want to truth?  You came here with your son – an eminently suitable excuse – because you craved some of what Pell had got.  And oh, how much of that you've greedily taken.  Did you really expect him to welcome you with open arms?  Would he have left you in Ferelithia if he hadn't bitterly regretted what he'd in ignorance?  You are no innocent, Rue.  Inside, you are still a singer in a two-bit band with a lust for power and possessions.  You always will be, whatever jewels you drape on your body and however well you play act at being royalty.  What a performer!  Your son must be proud."

            "I said get out," Caeru said.

            "Why?  We've only just started.  We haven't even reached the interesting stage yet.  Let's share breath again.  Let's really show each other the truth inside."