Kaylin nodded, preoccupied. “This beat was Tagraine and Canatel’s.”
“...Yes.”
Technically, they weren’t done with their patrolling duties. But given Mandoran and Teela, Kaylin thought the appearance of the fieflord of Candallar was newsworthy enough she’d be forgiven for abandoning them this one time. Had she been patrolling Elani, she would have dropped by any of a number of places to borrow their mirror and report in; most of the citizens of the East Warrens were too poor to own mirrors—and those who weren’t were likely to respond to such a request with violence.
Kaylin wanted to pass the information on to someone who was paid to deal with politics, but she was still disgruntled as they headed for home. Or rather, the Halls of Law. “You’re sure we couldn’t just arrest the bastard?”
“On what grounds?”
“Suspicion of conspiracy?”
“Conspiracy to do what? At best, we’ll have the caste court dropping on our collective heads via the Hawklord. This is Barrani politics. The Hawks don’t touch it for a reason.”
“But—”
“Even if it involves Annarion, Mandoran or Teela, it’s still Barrani politics. They’re never going to drag the Halls into a Barrani political war. Until and unless we can show that Candallar is illegally affecting non-Barrani, we have no grounds for either arrest or suspicion.”
Bellusdeo had said very little for half of the walk back to the halls. She did, however, add, “Do you really want a fieflord strolling through the Halls of Law? Severn is right, of course; we’re not going to be able to hold him. He clearly understands the full weight of Imperial Law, and he knows what the Hawks’ constraints are. Which marks him as somewhat unusual.”
“Why?”
“Because he actually believes those constraints are genuine. Even were he to agree to accompany us to the office, he believes that the rules that govern you would protect him. Is he right?”
Kaylin kicked a stone. “Probably.”
“How many Barrani do you know who would believe that?”
“Almost all of them.”
“Until recently, she only knew Hawks,” Severn reminded the Dragon.
“Yes, well.”
“And the Barrani Hawks believe in the law,” Kaylin added.
“The Barrani Hawks uphold the law. I would not, however, be surprised to hear that they consider it a game—much like the card games you play on breaks. Yes, they accept the various rules, but they’re looking for ways to game the system to win. Breaking the rules forfeits the game.”
“No one dedicates their lives to playing cards.” Kaylin frowned, considering the petty crimes divisions. “...Almost no one.”
“No, probably not. But I wouldn’t put it past Mandoran.”
“What are the odds we’ve done business with Candallar before?” Kaylin suddenly demanded. Of Severn.
He raised a brow.
“We know that Nightshade’s been contacted—or at the very least had his contact returned—by someone in the Halls. Is it that unlikely that Candallar is similar?”
It was Bellusdeo who answered. “To the Barrani, if I understand Teela correctly, both Nightshade and Candallar would be considered—are considered—necessary evils. They hold the Towers. The Towers keep Ravellon and its Shadows from spilling out into the rest of the world and destroying it.” There was a moment of bitter silence. “In my world, Towers such as those did not exist. Had they, I would not be here.”
The reminder of the enormity of the Dragon’s loss kind of killed the rest of the conversation, and it didn’t resume again until they’d reached the Halls of Law.
4 (#u412a86a6-362f-5e32-9665-9add25d2c1bc)
Caitlin seemed relieved when Kaylin entered the office and stopped at the choke-point of her desk. “I’m glad to see you’re safe,” she said. She didn’t bother to pitch her words in a whisper, which was the only way Kaylin knew she was not happy with Marcus’s decision to send them to the East Warrens.
“I’m not sure we’re done yet,” Kaylin replied. “But we’re fine. Nothing, aside from the legally questionable use of invisibility—not on our part—happened. But we’ve got some news to report in. Is Teela in?”
“Teela is in the infirmary.”
“...Where Moran said no one who was not half dying was allowed to be.”
“She is not, as you put it, half dying, dear. But she is not, strictly speaking, very happy at the moment. I haven’t seen her this upset since—” Caitlin stopped, reddening slightly. “And that’s neither here nor there, and I shouldn’t be gossiping. If you’ve got things to report, you should report them. Don’t mind me.”
* * *
Marcus was already in a foul mood. Kaylin approached his desk and was left standing at attention while he regained control of his seemingly permanent growl. He couldn’t, however, keep Bellusdeo standing at attention, not that she actually bothered. She wasn’t part of the office hierarchy, wasn’t beholden to it, and had been given permission by the Emperor to disrupt that hierarchy as she saw fit.
For some reason, this didn’t bother Kaylin. Possibly it was because Bellusdeo was a Dragon. Possibly it was because she didn’t particularly consider life to be fair. Dragon female trumped almost everything, as far as the Emperor was concerned.
But no, a little voice said, that wasn’t true. The empire trumped everything. Bellusdeo was considered important to the race, but that race didn’t really care about the empire, except in the abstract. It was the Emperor’s hoard. You disturbed it at your ultimate peril.
It was Bellusdeo who cut through rank and file behavior to tell Marcus that they had met the fieflord of Candallar in the East Warrens.
Marcus’s eyes couldn’t get any redder without spilling into the Leontine Frenzy color. Bellusdeo failed to mention either Mandoran or Teela. She spoke respectfully, but spoke as if to an equal. In the end, Marcus mirrored Hanson. He had a direct line to the Hawklord, but hadn’t chosen to use it, which meant that this wasn’t considered an emergency.
“There was no difficulty with the fieflord?”
“If you mean did he attempt to harm me, no.”
“Did he attempt to harm the officers?”
“No. Had he, what was left of him would be in the holding cells.”
“The Hawks would not—”
“Yes, I realize their hands are tied. But I’m not a Hawk, Sergeant Kassan. I’m a displaced person. A Dragon.”
Some of the red bled out of Marcus’s eyes then. “It was easier,” he said, “in the old country.”
“For you, too?”
“Yes. We could rip out the throats of our enemies—and our enemies seldom pretended to be our friends before we did.”
“I’ll suggest it to the Emperor,” Bellusdeo replied, with a sunny smile.
Marcus growled.
“I’ll suggest it on my own behalf; I shall utterly fail to mention your comment. You see, we also—in the old country—could rip out the throats of our enemies. Or their wings.”