The Wraeththu Chronicles (93 page)

He tried to rise then, stretching out a hand whose veins bulged blue through the white skin. His companion snarled at me. Terzian spoke, a small sound. "My son. It is my son," he said. There was no inflection to his voice. He just looked at me. I could not tell what he was thinking. Did he remember, as I did, that time he had spoken to me in his study, so long ago? The night of Gahrazel's arrest; something I will never forget. I remembered Terzian making me promise to look after his family, our home, as if he feared he would never come back. Now I thought that his homecoming was not part of the future as it was meant to be, or that he had ever wanted. Terzian painfully lay back among the cushions and closed his eyes. He shakily raised a hand to his face. There was silence; we all just looked at him. I could feel Seel's hand on the back of my neck. "Bring him into the house," Ashmael said.

I could not watch them do it. I could not watch them lift him, helpless, limbs sprawling, like an invalid. Terzian's companion was reluctant to leave him. I heard a scuffle. Without turning round, still walking back to Forever, I ordered that the har be taken to the kitchens and fed. I understood how he felt, that he had cared for Terzian for some time and wanted to stay with him now, but I could not risk offending Cobweb. They took him away, dragged him to the house, and I heard him cry, "Terzian! Terzian!" My spine crawled with pain. Hadn't these people gone through enough? It hurt me to separate my father from his companion, but I felt I had no choice.

Seel did not speak to me. There was little we could say to each other; it was all so ugly. In the hallway of Forever, he made me stop walking. I looked at him fiercely and

he took me in his arms. I pressed myself against him, wanting his mouth, his breath and the sweet taste of life, so fragrant, to eradicate the stink of death in my throat. Neither of us uttered a word.

I had already arranged alternative accommodation for Seel and myself, so that Terzian could have his room back. We could have had Cal's old room, but I settled for a smaller suite because I was afraid of ghosts. Seel took me there and laid me on the bed. He gently took off my clothes and massaged my skin with oil. I felt oversensitive, too ticklish, and all my muscles ached with tension. Seeing my father again had made me fear that I hadn't really grown up. Perhaps it was an illusion, this power that had been given me. Could I really give orders in this house now that Terzian was home again?

Seel could see me thinking deeply. He sensed my distress. "You will have to be strong," he said. We both knew that anyway, but it helps to hear someone else say it.

I waited until I was sure that the house-hara had settled Terzian into his room before I visited him. It was late afternoon and I was feeling sleepy and tranquil after a long session of Seel's exquisite attempts to ease my mood. Terzian lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, bars of sunlight falling across his hands where they lay on the coverlet. It seemed I could see the life draining away from him even as I watched, but I had made my heart hard and walked toward the bed.

He looked at me. I was afraid his intelligence might have been affected, but his eyes were still alert. The room was dark and full of a thick perfume, which could not totally mask the faint miasma of sickness. "Don't come in here," he said. His voice was reasonable and slow, almost emotionless.

I sat on the bed and said, "Father."

He turned his head away from me. "They told me of your betrayal. Get out! You are no longer my son. Get out!" He looked at me again and his eyes were full of contempt. I could not speak. "Seduced you, didn't they?" He nodded to himself, a peculiarly aged gesture. "Yes . . . mind you, the prize was worth it. I've seen him." He was referring to Seel. I tried to interrupt him, but he would not have it. "All my lands as well, eh? My house, my town, my people. Oh, you've a shrewd business head on that skinny body of yours, Swift!"

I pitied him so much I couldn't make myself angry, which was cruel because he wanted me to be. If I remained calm, he would think he didn't even have the strength left to unnerve me. I knew I must try to argue, but my head was empty.

"Where's . . . where's Cal?" he asked. I heard the despair in his voice, as if he knew the answer to that already, as if he knew that I didn't.

"Cal? Oh, I betrayed him as well, father. I took him straight to the Gelaming. They have him. Didn't they tell you that?"

Terzian tried to smile. The effect was ghastly. "My son, a true Varr. You know nothing about loyalty, do you, only self-preservation. I would have liked to see Ponclast's face when he saw who it was that had defeated him. You should have seen mine when I found out!"

Those words finally got to me. "Me, a true Varr!" I exclaimed indignantly. "Let me tell you, father, it was only recently that I realized fully what being a true Varr means. I've learned the truth about a lot of things, not least the Varrish concept of loyalty, and the details of certain executions. Gahrazel's, for example." How it sickened me to see the furtive wariness creep into my father's eyes. He could not look at me.

"And who told you that? Gelaming story tellers, I suppose. What lies have they filled your head with?"

"No-one told me exactly," I replied. "It was in the forest."

He knew which forest; I didn't have to explain. He seemed to deflate before my eyes.

"I don't have to justify any of my actions to you, Swift," he said peevishly. "You don't know everything. You weren't there. You can't possibly understand."

"I don't want to. I don't want to have the kind of mind that could understand something like that."

"Is that why you betrayed me?" He sounded so pathetic, I had to grit my teeth.

"I never betrayed you, Terzian," I said. "You knew the risks yourself when you went south. I only did what you once asked me to do. Your family is safe and their future is safe. I did that. Forever still stands untouched and your blood will always flow in the veins of those that live here. By securing our position, I've immortalized you in a way. You don't deserve it."

"Oh, don't give me that! That's Cobweb talk!" he spat viciously. "The truth is, my son, that you have come out of this very well, while the demon Thiede has punctured my soul. My life is running out of the hole that he's made . . ."

"I know what they did to you. I know what they were trying to do."

"Do you? Do you really? I don't think so!" He closed his eyes and I thought how transparent he looked, how impermanent. Talking had enfeebled him more than he wanted to let me see.

"The past is done," I said. "Nothing can be changed now. What is important now is the future. You have a grandson." Terzian didn't move. "His name is Azriel," I continued doggedly. "Seel hosted him for me. My prize, remember?" There was still no response. I stood up. "I shall send Cobweb to you."

"No!" It was a weak exclamation. His eyes were still closed. "Not yet. . . Swift, come back later." It was a child's plea.

"Of course I will."

"Bring Cobweb with you then." He could not face seeing Cobweb alone.

Bryony was waiting for me on the stairs. She was agitated because my father's traveling companion had vociferously refused the comfort she had offered and was currently threatening to search the house for Terzian. "Cobweb must not see him!" she cried, sharing my concern for Cobweb's state of mind, which was as yet undetermined. Ashmael and Arahal were still outside, supervising the dispersal of the bewildered Varrs. Thiede would not want to be troubled with domestic incidents. I would have to deal with it myself, distasteful though it was to me. "His name is Mengk," Bryony told me, disgruntled. "Oh, Swift, he will not go! What if—"

"Alright, alright," I interjected, impatiently. "I'll see to it."

We found Mengk prowling around the hall. I walked up to him with what I hoped was an

authoritative air.

"Terzian is comfortable," I said. "You must now go to Galhea."

He turned on me like a frenzied animal, uttering every curse he knew, Hexing clawed fingers dangerously close to my face. He was not prepared to leave. With horror, I saw Cobweb come to the door of the drawing room. So did Bryony. She tried to push Mengk into the kitchen and he resisted fiercely.

"What's going on?" Cobweb demanded and came toward us, arms folded. We all froze guiltily. He addressed Mengk. "What is it you want exactly?"

Mengk was momentarily silenced, faced with the commanding vision of dark loveliness whom he knew to be Terzian's consort.

"Well?" Cobweb looked at me. I shrugged helplessly. Bryony had the courage to speak.

"This har traveled back to Galhea with Terzian," she said. "Now he is concerned for his master's welfare. Swift was trying to explain that Terzian is comfortable . . . and ..."

Mengk straightened up and shook Bryony's hands off his arms. "I must see my lord," he said. "I have cared for him a long time. Only I know what he needs at this time." I was rather awed by his nerve.

Cobweb raised his eyebrows and I thought, as I had thought so often, how it is never possible to anticipate my hostling's reactions. "You are probably right," he said. "Swift, take this har to Terzian."

I started to protest, but could see from my hostling's face the futility of such an act. Sullenly, I showed Mengk where Terzian's door was and left him to it. I felt ridiculed because Cobweb had overridden my order. Downstairs, I found him solicitously examining Bryony's cheek, which was beginning to swell along the bone.

"She was struck!" he said, with some surprise.

"Why did you do that?" I asked him angrily. "Why didn't you have him thrown out? He

insulted you!"

Cobweb didn't look at me. "I don't think so, Swift. I didn't hear any insults."

"Just by being here, he insulted you!" I insisted.

"Put yourself in his position, Swift, and then remember that all we can do for Terzian now is try to make him happy in small ways. That vicious little brute has been looking after him. Terzian is probably used to him. I won't say 'fond' because Terzian is hardly ever fond of anything. We must be patient during this time and learn to bite our tongues. We must smile at each other and not raise our voices and let Terzian think he is still master of this house. Now we shall go into the kitchen and make sure Yarrow hasput out enough sheh for dinner. I think we should sample it now, in fact, Tonight, I shall dress in black and take pleasure in the Gelaming Ashmael's attempts to interest me. Come along!" We followed him.

The meeting that eventually took place between Cobweb and Terzian is almost too painful for me to relate. It gave me a glimpse of the private side of my parents, that side that most children never see nor want to see if they are wise. I think the whole thing was made worse because it contrasted too strongly with the very convivial meal we all enjoyed that evening. Hara came up from Galhea, and Forever felt very much as it used to feel in the past when celebrations were in order; relaxed and comfortable.

Braced by alcohol, mellowed by good food and conversation, Leef and I had the long-deserved talk about our differences. Some things I realized he would never agree with me over (namely the issue of Cal and his fate), but once he had reassured himself that power had not gone to my head, our friendship was firmly reinstated. Now we could laugh at incidents in the past. I was so relaxed, I actually forgot about what lay in my father's bed upstairs. Then Cobweb caught my eye meaningfully and mouthed, "Now,'' and I felt a great deal of my euphoria disappear.

Mengk opened the door to us in response to Cobweb's peremptory knock, and we went into the room. "It is time you ate something," Cobweb told Mengk. "If you would like to go to the kitchen, you will find that our housekeeper has prepared a meal for you." Mengk nodded respectfully and left us.

Then I had to see my father's face as he watched the radiant creature of mystery that is my hostling glide toward him. He must have recalled immediately fragments of the past and the feel of Cobweb's cool skin and the caress of his cool eyes. Now they both knew that the room within their minds where the delight of their union had once thrived had been irretrievably shuttered and barred. Terzian the shadow looking at the

light. Cobweb's face showed only a kind of pitying disbelief. I knew that he didn't really want to see this new, shriveled Terzian, let alone speak to him. He felt ashamed to be so vibrant. This was ridiculous, as Terzian had wronged him in so many ways in the past. Cobweb had always wanted to shower my father with love, while Terzian had perfected the art of shutting Cobweb out of his heart whenever he wanted to. Now the tables were turned. Now who was helpless? I could see that something definite had happened to the love that Cobweb had felt for Terzian. It was not quite the same, still fervent in a way, but no longer essential. I suspected Cal might have had something to do with that, but it may just have been that Cobweb had been alone for so long and had got used to the idea of life without my father.

"So, we have you back again," Cobweb said awkwardly.

Terzian's face was dark. It was in shadow, but then that room was always dark. "You never had me, Cobweb," he replied inscrutably, "never."

I felt that Terzian should have died right after saying that. They would have been very profound last words. More than that, he deserved to die for it, because he wanted to punish us for living, especially Cobweb, who was beautiful and whom he would have to leave behind. Terzian would still look on Cobweb as one of his possessions and would no doubt be gratified if my hostling offered to throw himself onto Terzian's funeral pyre. Terzian was affronted that Cobweb should have a life without him.