The Nemisin Star (4 page)

Matt said
nothing.

“We need to
turn our thoughts to strategy,” Torrullin said.

“Search the
old haunts?” Taranis suggested. “Obvious, but we cannot afford to
ignore anything. I can do that.”

Perfect
, Torrullin thought.
It will take you away from
this, from me.
“Good idea,” he said. “Take Matt with you. It
will familiarise you with much of the land, Matt.” Both Taranis and
Matt nodded. “After you have checked the ship.”

“Yeah,
yeah.”

Torrullin eyed
the Xenian. “Listen to me, pilot. Twenty-six and more years ago we
lost four hundred thousand people. Men, women and children,
three-quarters of our population.” Matt paled, but Torrullin went
on relentlessly. “We dug mass graves on a scale you cannot
comprehend and that was when we could find the dead. Some vanished
without a trace, and there are still families today who grieve
without the closure that comes with burial. We still mourn; it can
happen again, and much faster. We are not even half of what we
were. Sixty percent of the human population is under eighteen, and
the three hundred Valleur who came through the Rift are now only
about a thousand. We need to ensure every means to ferry folk off
this world if it erupts, and that includes you. This is your home
now, is it not? And we welcome you and know you will fight for your
adopted world, but Valarians are asking for help.”

Matt was
penitent. “I’ll check it out.”

“Do it in
secret,” Vannis murmured. “I saw a Beaconite in the crowd today.”
They stole the ship from the Beaconites.

“I’ll
provision it,” Matt went on a heartbeat later, “and I’ll negotiate
a landing site on another world, a place where we can erect a
refugee camp. Forgive me.”

Torrullin
smiled, “You are a fine man, my friend. I ask not perfection or
unquestioning loyalty. I have not the right, for I am no longer
your employer and I am not your overlord. All I ask as one man to
another is what you demand of yourself.”

Matt was
silent.

“What is it?”
Torrullin asked as the silence stretched.

“You are no
longer my employer.”

“I asked you
to steal a ship and pilot it into the Zone and in return Valaris is
your home. Yours, Cat’s and Lowen’s. I did not need to employ you
to grant this new life, I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“What is on
your mind?”

“Is there a
fealty oath sworn to you by your subjects?”

Torrullin
rocked back. “I do not expect that.”

“Are you not
sworn to Dall Reni?” Taranis frowned. Dall Reni was Peacekeeper of
Xen III, Matt’s homeworld.

Matt said,
“Reni is my uncle, not my overlord.”

“You are a
citizen of Valaris, Matt; we require no more.” Torrullin glanced at
Vannis, who was stoic.

“I would give
you my oath. I consider myself yours to command anyway, more than
man to man. I would make it formal.”

Torrullin
closed his eyes. “No.”

“Am I not good
enough, is that it?”

Torrullin
opened silvery eyes. “You are, and I am honoured …”

“The honour
would be mine.”

Torrullin
glanced again at Vannis, who unbent to say, “You know the rules, my
Lord Vallorin. Fealty freely offered cannot be denied.”

“Unless it is
retracted before spoken,” Torrullin said with urgency.

“I’m not
retracting,” Matt said. He rose, bent one knee and clasped his
hands together. “I don’t know how it’s done …”

“Vannis, stop
him.”

Vannis held
his peace.

“I swear to
you, my Lord Vallorin, an oath binding unto death of my loyalty to
you as my Lord, forsaking all oaths.”

“By the gods,
Matt, you cannot.”

“Too late,”
Vannis murmured.

“Do you accept
my oath, my Lord Vallorin?”

How could he
not, when it came from the heart? “I accept, but I wish you heard
me before you gave in to this impulse.”

“It’s no
impulse. You know that.”

Taranis
demanded, “This young man bared his soul and you seek to deny him;
why?”

Vannis
murmured, “An oath of fealty is followed by training.”

Matt paled,
but remained resolute, eyes on Torrullin. He remained on one
knee.

“Rise, Matt,
and be at ease.”

Matt unwound
to sit on the floor.

“According to
Valleur rules I could not warn you, Matt. Fealty by a non-Valleur
is accepted at a price, one you pay and so do I. I accept your
oath, but we shall delay the formal ceremony until this fiasco is
dealt with, and we keep this between ourselves. I cannot forgo your
talents now. The training will sequester you for some lengthy time
and therefore I choose to defer.”

Matt licked
dry lips and said nothing.

“And the
training?” Taranis asked.

“Matt is
better off not knowing.” Torrullin held a hand out to the Xenian.
“You must trust me on this and know I shall tell you when the time
is right.”

Matt took the
offered hand and leaned forward to move into the Valleur style of
greeting. He was uncertain, but a faint glitter in his dark eyes
gave evidence to conviction. “As my Lord says.”

Conviction
would aid him well, Torrullin knew. “I have enough ‘my lording’
from others.”

Matt grinned.
“Thanks, Torrullin.” They released the clasp.

Vannis reached
out to slap the Xenian’s shoulder. “Welcome to this crazy
system!”

“Crazy is
right,” Taranis muttered.

Vannis cleared
his throat and changed the subject. “The sacred sites are cloaked.
Nevertheless, I prefer to check them. Margus knows the locations of
the old ones and he will find the changes if we are not
careful.”

Torrullin
nodded. “We must take into account his knowledge of the Oracles.
Take Caltian along, same reason as for Matt.”

Vannis ambled
to where Caltian spoke to Cat and Lowen. Torrullin wondered what
the Atrudisin shared with them.

“Will they be
safe in Luan?” Matt asked, his attention turning in that direction
as well.

“I aim to
bring them here until this is over,” Torrullin said. “Tris has
probably made that clear already, to Skye.”

“About Tris
and Skye …” Taranis began.

“Leave it,
father. When it gets to that point I shall decide.”

Matt said,
“Cat’s chafing at the inactivity. She’ll agitate to be in the thick
of things.”

Torrullin
squinted at the Dragon doors on the other side of the courtyard. No
sign of Saska. “Then she must be set to rights now.” He rose.

Taranis and
Matt locked gazes.

“Is that
wise?” Matt dared.

“Yes, son. Let
Matt talk to her.”

“I have stayed
out of her way, but not for this.” Torrullin walked off.

Matt muttered,
“If he and Saska were okay, I’d have no issue.”

“I know what
you mean,” Taranis said. “Will Cat read the situation?”

Matt grimaced.
“She already has.”

“Cat, I would
like a word.”

She glanced at
the Dragon doors and followed Torrullin. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.
Are you settling in well?”

“Yes. What do
you want to say?” she asked.

“You are to
stay here.”

“At the
Keep?”

“Yes, for
safety.”

“Thanks a
lot.” Cat arched an eyebrow.

“I am not
going to argue this with you. Skye will be here, Lowen obviously,
and Caballa. Saska will be in and out. The Elders will be around
and Camot’s soldiers.”

“I thought the
valley was protected.”

“It is, but
Margus is unpredictable.”

“We’ll be a
bunch of old men and women.”

“Gods, don’t
be difficult.”

Cat looked
away. “Have you told her?”

“No.”

“Don’t. You’ve
left it too long now.”

He did not
respond.

“I’m right,
you know.”

“Probably.”

“I’ll be
circumspect.”

“Cat.”

“Relax. I want
to do something.”

He nodded.
“Good. There will be enough to do here.”

She threw him
an angry look and stomped from the chamber.

He jerked
around and returned to the dais.

“I need to
talk to Lowen,” Torrullin said.

“We are off.
Keep in touch,” Vannis said, gesturing to Caltian.

Taranis said,
“I do not want to start guessing your moves.”

Torrullin
nodded. “I will keep you up to date.”

Taranis and
Matt left also.

As far as I
am able to
, Torrullin thought
,
and gave his attention to
the girl. “Are you happy here on Valaris, Lowen?”

“I like it
here. It’s nicer than Luvanor.”

“I am glad.
You call it Luvanor?”

“That is
Atrudis’ real name.”

“True names
are important. Yes, I know that well.”

“You
understand.”

“I do, and
shall make it clear when I return to Luvanor.” He would not again
think of Atrudis as anything other than Luvanor, that he already
knew. He hunkered. She was not a little girl anymore and yet he was
better able to deal with her when lower than her. “Lowen, you know
who Pretora is?” She nodded. “Pretora has had a message from your
father. It was addressed to me, a while ago, and Pretora held it.
Your father asked for news of you and sent word that matters come
to a head on Xen. He says he is well, he loves you, and maybe your
time apart will be shorter than expected.”

Her father was
Le Moss Mar Dalrish, Matt and Cat’s cousin. He was Dall Mossen, the
crime lord of Xen III. Dall Reni was his father, and there was only
enmity between the two. Dall Mossen’s sole purpose in life was to
bring Reni to a fall, and Reni desired his son dead. A volatile
situation developed on Xen.

Lowen’s eyes
glowed.

“Would you
like to send a letter?”

“Yes!” she
whispered, hugging herself.

Torrullin
smiled. “Then go to it, young lady, and when you are done hand it
to Pretora; he will see it arrives safely.”

Lowen twirled
to charge away, changed her mind and placed a kiss on Torrullin’s
cheek before running out, skipping with every step.

Torrullin
touched his cheek.

His sons had
never displayed that kind of affection.

Know from the
outset every relationship, whether of love or friendship, is
fraught with possibilities and danger. Your responsibility is to
remain objective in the viewing of it, while being emotionally
involved also. Not easy, friend.

~Awl

The Keep

The day
before

S
kye
and Tristamil’s reunion was tense.

She saw him
climb to the battlements and followed the shadowy form. World
hopping changed Tristamil and he swung around with irritation, so
much like his father that she was frightened of him, and for
him.

Months of
waiting to hear about him, see him, left no doubt about how much
she cared, and she stared mutely, willing him to see her and not
the intrusion. He crossed the divide between them and took her into
his arms. Whatever else had happened and whatever would rule his
life now, his feelings for her had not changed. It had not been
time to talk; he was weary and unlike his usual self. It was not
time for unsaid words to transform into the intimacy of a kiss.

After a while
she gently disengaged and put her fingers to his lips, to stop
words and more, taking him by the hand to lead him to his suite.
There she fussed over him, drawing a bath, laying out toiletries,
and while he bathed she found fresh clothes, had food and drink
brought up, and aired his bedroom.

He came out,
wrapped in a towel. “Skye.”

She blushed
seeing him like that, droplets of moisture on golden skin, eyes
intent. “Eat, rest. We’ll talk later.”

He nodded,
tracking her jerky movements.

“I’ll leave
now,” she said, heading for the door.

He was there
when she reached it, and she lifted her hands, eyes and mouth to
his, to sink into his kiss as if he was the only solid ground
anywhere. He held her and she pressed her face against his warm
skin, smelled him, wanted to taste, and pushed herself away.

“Later,
please.”

Again he
nodded and stood aside. She fled.

It grew dark
when he emerged.

She was on the
balcony watching Torrullin finally leave the Throne-room, heart
going out to the troubled man. Tristamil joined her at the rail
with tousled hair, and saw his father. He led her onto the
battlements again and this time he was withdrawn.

Then the words
came, unstoppable, as he let it out, months of world to world, of
horrors, of Margus and his deeds in their name, of their terrible
reputation, of the distance between him and his father, of his
growing closeness to Saska, of Taranis and Vannis bickering, and
more. She understood he purged before he could reach for her, and
she listened without interrupting, fixated on his face. She saw
anger, disappointment, sadness, fury, and much else, and watched it
drain away until he was spent, exhausted anew.

When she took
him back to his suite, he surrendered to oblivion.

Torrke

Earlier

In the morning
Tristamil greeted her with an open smile and joined her at
breakfast below.

They chatted
about things between, the normal stuff, and she was relieved. When
people began trickling in, both realised a gathering was in
progress, and they left the Keep to walk beyond.

He
passionately desired to avoid people for as long as he could
orchestrate it and Skye always preferred being alone. They
discussed many subjects, skirting anything serious, but often found
the other glancing over.