Thy Father's Shadow (Book 4.5) (25 page)

His father, for his part, raised only an eyebrow. He crumpled the parchment he held in his hand, let the crackle of the paper fill the air. “How did he die?”

“Not well,” Terian said. His every syllable was flat. “He was shredded by a sea monster of some sort.”

Amenon appeared to ponder this. “We have never had any such creature in the Great Sea before.”

“No,” Terian said. “We have not.”

Amenon sat there, his armor giving him a look of stiffness that Terian suspected was reflected below the surface of that armor. “A mystery, then. It either snuck in from the depths of the earth and chambers below … or was brought there by someone.” He stood, staring into the fire. “A matter for another time,” he said abruptly, and tossed the parchment into the fire. “We have other things to discuss.”

Terian blinked. “Like Verret?” His voice was hoarse, and it came out accusing.

“There is nothing to discuss as relates to Verret,” Amenon said. “Are there any remains to be sent to the Depths for composting?”

“What?” Terian almost choked. “No, there was nothing left—”

“Then we will have a standard sending ceremony for his family in a few days,” Amenon said. “As befits a man of his station.”

“A—sending ceremony?” Terian asked.
I cannot believe what I’m hearing.

“You know he was of far too low a station to have been laid to rest in the Tomb of Heroes—even assuming there had been anything left of the man,” Amenon said. His tone was all business, and his eyes were back to studying the next piece of parchment.

Terian started to argue, started to protest, started to say,
You’ve known him for a hundred years and he’s followed you everywhere you’ve asked
. But his gaze fell upon the red gem upon his father’s desk and he went silent.
Of course.
“The path of duty,” he said.

Amenon looked up at him from where he sat, face inscrutable. “Sacrifices must be made in the name of the Sovereign.”

Terian laughed, but it was a mirthless, joyless sound. “I actually thought you were going to be angry with me.” He focused in on the red jewel. “I should have known differently.”

“I will never fault you for doing what needs to be done,” Amenon said. “Even when the cost is high.”

Terian started to turn his back but stopped halfway. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” his father said. “You should have remembered. There is no sacrifice too great to be made in the name of duty. Or family.”

Terian snorted. “Or at least some of them.”

“We have another matter before us,” Amenon said coldly. “Vincin Ehrest stopped by this morning.”

Terian let out a sigh but still felt every muscle in his body tense. “I hope he wasn’t here to complain about our conversation last night.”

“He mentioned that the two of you spoke,” Amenon said. “But it was not the purpose of his visit.” Amenon leaned forward. “He had a much … grander reason for being here.”

“Is that so?” Terian listened with half an ear.
He really doesn’t care that Verret got eaten. Not a bit. Just another sacrifice in the name of duty.

“He proposed an alliance,” Amenon said, causing Terian’s interest to perk up.

“An alliance?” Terian stared unblinking at his father, the heat from the fire causing him to blink suddenly. “His house and ours?”

“Indeed,” Amenon said with a slight smile. “The second and third most powerful houses in Saekaj working together.”

“I can’t imagine Dagonath Shrawn being too happy about us playing nice,” Terian said with a shrug. “In fact, I’d think he’d take measures to break us apart as quickly as possible. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, absent a—” The realization hit Terian as squarely as an axe blow to the forehead. “You son of a bitch. You said yes, didn’t you?”

“The arrangement is made.” Amenon showed only a flicker of acknowledgment at the insult leveled in his direction.

“And I have no say in the matter,” Terian said then let out a curse that blackened the walls of the office.

“Are quite finished?” his father asked, coldly.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve begun,” Terian said. “Which of his unfortunate offspring gets to bear this particular burden on their side?” He watched, but Amenon said nothing, looking at him in return. “It’s Kahlee, isn’t it? Light of the sky, Father, have you seen her hair?”

“Somehow I doubt that subtle problem of appearance much matters to you,” Amenon said. “I know it doesn’t concern me.”

“Well, you’re the only one in polite society who doesn’t care, I suppose,” Terian said.
Other than me.
“This is ridiculous.”

“No, this is Saekaj,” Amenon said, without a hint of emotion. “It is how things are done here. Now … will you do what is expected of you, or shall I have a carriage take you back to the surface to make your way on your own?”

He’s never threatened me like this before—or with that before.
“Am I just a playing piece to be moved around your board?”

“You are right now the single most valuable weapon in my arsenal,” Amenon said and stood, drawing himself to his full height. “You are the Heir of House Lepos, and since you have returned, you have wavered, you have made half measures, you have given me less than your full support and respect. For every moment of triumph such as this endeavor or the torture of Engoch, you show me pitiful emotion that has no place in our house and sentiment that puts my soldierly instincts into the mind of cutting my losses.”

Amenon made his way around the desk to look Terian in the eye. “Even now, you practically weep over Verret as though he were some dear compatriot you have known all your days. I served in the war with him, kept him from death for his stupidity, have shepherded him and rewarded his loyalty in kind. I feel none of those things that you do. His was a sacrifice. A sacrifice for his duty, a sacrifice for our house, which he pledged himself to serve. Sacrifice is expected as a leader and as an heir.” He drew his sword. “You know the lengths that I am willing to go to in order to make sure my house is kept in order, that we maintain and grow our influence. In this maneuver, we are finally about to take on an ally that is worthy, that is close to our equal. I will not have this alliance dragged down by an heir who will not do what is needed—what has to be done!” With that, he slammed his sword down into floor and it reverberated through the house. “If you want to leave, now is the moment. Walk freely through that door, leave my house, leave this city, and never return. Your commitment to this family is about to be tested, and I no longer have use for the weak of heart as my heir.”

“Well, you don’t have another,” Terian said, glaring at his father with sullen eyes.

“I will find one, if necessary,” Amenon said with coldest fury. “I will make one, if need be. It is long past time that you decide your course and stay upon it with whole heart.”

Terian stared back at him. “You’d set Mother to the side so you could have a new heir?”

Amenon’s eyes were dead. “I will do anything it takes to make certain that our house continues with the strength that is required to maintain our position.”

He’ll do it.
The thought came without a moment’s hesitation.
He’ll set her aside and find some new young thing.
This is a man who’s never had a mistress, but he would put her aside for the position of his house in a moment to fulfill the expectations.
Without doubt.
He could have read it all in his father’s eyes had he not already known it to be true.

“I am not in the habit of being kept waiting.” His father’s fingers rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, still stubbornly standing upright where it had been driven into the floor. “Your decision is needed, and swiftly. Slow action is the province of the weak.”

“I am not weak,” Terian said, his voice a low, scratchy noise. “I am not … weak.” He opened his mouth and shut it again to prevent himself from saying the same thing once more. “I will do … what is expected of me. Without fail.”

His father did not waver, did not move, not for a long moment. “Very well.” He pulled his sword from the floor without resistance and slipped the red-tinged blade silently back into his scabbard. “I will make the necessary arrangements. You have … done right by your house. I can ask no more of you than that.”

Terian felt his lips pucker in a curious way, but no words were forthcoming. He inclined his head slightly, as close as he could come to a bow of his head and started to turn.

“It will get easier,” his father said, and Terian looked back to find him examining the parchment. “It will get easier to make these decisions. Let your pride and your will go and bury yourself in duty, and your life will become quite simple indeed. Soon enough, you’ll be running things yourself.” He looked up. “Go on.”

“Yes, Father,” Terian said, and bowed his head again. A sickly feeling had taken root in his stomach, and he tottered out the door on legs as unsteady as ever they’d been when he was drunk.

Chapter 36

When the knock came at his door, he was unsure what to expect. It was loud, formal, and to Terian’s ears, had the ring of Guturan Enlas all over it. “Yes?” Terian croaked, his voice sounding as foreign to him as music in the depths of Sovar. His face had been buried in his hands, and the hard wood of the chair in the corner of his room was upon his backside. The ache was beginning to set in.

“Your betrothed is here to see you, Lord Terian.” Guturan’s reply was crisp and certain, and formal as he’d ever heard the steward.

“I’ll be … down in a moment,” Terian said, lifting himself up from his chair. A daze was upon him, a thousand thoughts bombarding him from every direction.

“She is here, Lord Terian, and would like to speak with you in the privacy of your chambers.”

Terian blinked. “Is that … proper?” His words sounded weak and foolish to his ears.

“Quite so, sir,” Guturan’s voice came from behind the door. “Do you need a moment to prepare?”

“Send her in,” Terian said, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than the squeak of the door handle and the hinges echoed through his chamber. He stood at stiff attention, as though he were still in training and the Commandant of the Legion of Darkness were coming to inspect his barracks.

Guturan’s arm was all that was visible of him, snaking past Kahlee to hold the door open for her. She was not attired in the dress of a servant, not today. She wore a full black gown, less formal than the ones he had seen on the ladies at Shrawn’s ball, and her hair was shorter, falling only to her shoulders. It still bore the blue tinge of the wildroot dye, though part of it was covered under a large bonnet.

He bowed, feeling stricken. “My lady.”

Kahlee glanced back at Guturan, who shut the door without any of the squealing or squeaking that had been present upon its opening. She turned back to him once it was closed. For a moment, she stared at him, her face telling him nothing about what she was thinking. It lasted for all of a second. “Are you going to be this foolishly formal in our marriage as well, or can we get back to the business of speaking to each other without the stupid airs?”

“I think
we’re
actually the stupid heirs at this point,” Terian said.

“Droll,” Kahlee said with a shake of her head that highlighted her lack of amusement.

“I strive to be, when possible,” Terian said, but he did not feel any levity.

“It rhymes with ‘troll’ for a reason,” Kahlee said with a dark irritation in her eyes that was unlike anything he had seen from her in the past. “You and I are to be wed in a little over a month, as befits the tradition of our people.”

“Oh, good,” Terian said. “I wouldn’t want a long, lingering engagement. It always struck me as something like a sickness—best not to happen at all, but if so, make it mercifully short.”

“There’s that trollery again,” Kahlee said. “I’d ask you to hold your jokes off until we’re through this, but as this entire wedding is nothing more than a rather elaborate jape at my expense, yours added to the mix seem nothing less than appropriate.”

Terian blinked. “You’re not the only one dissatisfied with this union.”

“Bear your dissatisfaction in silence,” Kahlee said archly, “or to me in private. In public, I will not criticize you as my fiancé or my husband, and I will have you do the same.” There was an air of danger in the way she said it. “Do you understand?”

“I guess I see who’s going to be carrying the sword in this relationship.”

Kahlee’s eyes swept the chamber and then came back to rest on him before she took steps toward him. She looked up at him and smiled. “Oh, my sweet husband to be. Of course you will be in charge of our household.” She leaned her head upon his shoulder, and nuzzled in close to his ear. “Don’t be a fool,” she whispered. “Shrawn has ears everywhere. Even now, surely he is hatching a way to drive a wedge between us—and our houses. Do not be fool enough to let your words give him the dagger with which to make the split.”

Terian stiffened, and she raised her head off his shoulder to look him in the eyes.
She’s right
, he realized.
Shrawn will be trying to find a way to split us.
We’re the single greatest threat to him at the moment.
“I will … of course speak of you in nothing but the most glowing terms, betrothed.”

“Very good,” Kahlee said and brushed back to arm’s length from him. “Although this was not a union of our choosing, you know me and I know you. I will do my duties to you as your wife and I expect the same from you as my husband.”

Terian felt his mouth suddenly go dry.
Gods. Our primary duty
… He saw a very subtle flicker in her eyes as she nodded.
She knows. And she’s willing to ‘do her duty’ anyway. There is something so absurd about this
… “I would never doubt your commitment to this alliance and to our …” Terian coughed, “… marriage.”

There was another flash of emotion on Kahlee’s face, something deeper. “I expect we can come to accords on all that needs to be managed and handled?”

“Such as?” Terian felt as though he’d been smacked by the tentacle of the sea monster, full in the face with all force.

“Where we shall live after our wedding is the foremost among the questions,” Kahlee said coolly. “The wedding itself will be planned by our mothers and we will have little say in the matter.”