The Duelist 11, page 10
“And you!” Sha-Kane replied to the koala-man.
“Alex!” Vel-Rala then called to me, and I looked up at the cockatoo-woman. She waved me forward, so I walked over across the sand until I was standing right on the edge of the water. The ship had been beached in the night, when the tide had been low, but now it was high, and the vessel bobbed on shallow water.
“Yeah?” I asked the cockatoo-woman.
“Do not fall victim to the prejudices of your world,” she advised me in a knowing voice. “But silence is rarely trustworthy.”
“I’ll, uh… keep that in mind?” I said blankly. I knew Vel-Rala tended to be a bit odd sometimes, through a combination of pregnancy hormones and being the Prophetess, but this was stranger than normal. “Thanks?”
“You’re very welcome,” the cockatoo-woman replied with a serene smile to rival Anwaar, and I stepped back from the ship.
“Nemis!” I called to the Captain. “Whenever you’re ready!”
“Aye, Asher!” the raccoon-man shouted back, and there was clanking from within the ship as he descended into its bowels, then the terrific screech of metal as the engine roared to life.
Machinery inside began to move, and the ship itself prepared to set off. The anchor automatically retracted on its thick chain, moved by an automatic pulley, and the Sun Shimmer began to drift out into the open sea. The rest of us remained on the beach calling goodbyes and waving energetically for several minutes, until the Shimmer was barely a speck on the horizon.
“Right,” I then said as I turned to my remaining Crew. “We should think about setting off, too.”
I didn’t want to stay on the Isle of Hearts any longer than we had to, because now that our group was split, and Shay, Nova, and Sera were all staying with our group, the other five had no way to get back to the Isle. They could no longer travel the straight path across Aventoll, and once they returned to the main archipelago, they would not be able to come back to the Island, even if we were still here.
“Can you navigate to Alem from here?” Horus asked Sha-Kane, and the osprey-man nodded, as did the two Mec sisters.
“Better question,” I added. “Is there anything we all should know about Alem? I’ve never been there.”
“Neither have I,” Zoie said, and Shay, Nova, and Horus shook their heads, too.
“I’ll happily give you a crash course on the important things,” Amaya said with a smile. “I was always better at history than geography.”
“And I was always better at geography than history,” Anwaar said in a slightly wry tone.
“Etiquette is probably most important for you, Alex,” Sha-Kane observed. “Since you’ll be taking Teivel’s seat. Some Ashers will take any opportunity to insist they were slighted and challenge someone to a Duel.”
“And of course, they’ll be desperate to get Teivel’s seat from me,” I said with a nod. Dagmar had only been a Rank Three, and he’d been insufferable enough. I dreaded to think of the sheer size of the egos of the Councilmen. “So, etiquette lessons it is.”
“And history of the Council.” Amaya smiled cheerfully.
“Anything we should know?” Zoie then asked, and she gestured to herself, Shay, and Nova. “As the partners of a Councilman?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Sha-Kane admitted and pursed his lips. “I myself don’t have a wife, and nor did Shaw Aras. I would mostly advise that you are obedient, at least in public, and dress befitting of your statuses. It is not just how many wives an Asher has, but how he cares for them. Are they well-dressed? Do they have fulfilling hobbies? Do they genuinely enjoy being married, or are they there simply from obligation?”
That was slightly better than what I’d come to expect, but still a bit too ‘people as property’ for my liking. But I could see Shay was enthused at the prospect of being able to dress up fancily, and I clearly had a lot to learn about the ways of the Council before we arrived on Alem.
“How long will the journey be, do you think?” I asked Sha-Kane, and the osprey-man thought for a moment.
“A day, perhaps two,” he said. “The Manta is swift, but we’re a long way from Alem.”
“Then I’d best get to work,” I said decisively. “I’ll be in the library if anyone needs me.”
“I’ll be in the family room, I’m tired,” Zoie said, and though she hadn’t done a lot outwardly, it was an immense feat to grow one baby, let alone several.
I reminded myself to be more aware of her needs as she got further along in her pregnancy.
Shay was also pretty tired, since she hadn’t slept much, so she decided to join Zoie in the family room, and Nova was clearly eager to speak more with Sera. Anwaar, Horus, and Sha-Kane went up to the captain’s cabin to set course for Alem, and Amaya followed me to the library.
“You should start with these, to round out your history,” the oryx-woman said when we walked in, and she made a beeline for one shelf in particular and pulled down a handful of thick, leather-bound books. “Then we can get to the specifics of modern Alemic etiquette.”
“Gotcha,” I said, though I was decidedly not excited by the prospect of so much reading.
Luckily, the books weren’t as dry as they looked. The first one seemed to be a rundown of the Council’s history, but I was surprised by the general tone of the book. Critical analysis hadn’t seemed like it was allowed when the Council was concerned, but this book pulled no punches as it described how the originally-noble sixty-four had descended into a hyper-rich oligarchy over generations.
The most interesting passage was about the Lycaen Ashers, which got a whole chapter to explain how Chief Mata was summoned about the Tribes’ refusal to renounce the Moon. When the Curse was set over Lycae, Mata marched back in to demand of the Council what had happened. He’d insisted that he was allowed to speak with the Lycaen Councilmen, and he was led to a chamber, whereupon he saw the eight Councilmen had been kidnapped. Their families-- specifically, their children-- were all murdered, and the Lycaen Councilmen were forced to accept challenges to Duel.
They hadn’t been real Duels, obviously, because the Lycaens were chained and beaten. But they were then killed by second-born sons of the other Councilmen, and Lycae was shoved out of the Aventoll system of government in one fell swoop. Chief Mata was also then murdered, and the Wolfmen had lived in exile ever since. This event, the book told me, was commonly referred to as ‘The Ousting,’ but I reckoned a far more accurate title would be ‘The Slaughter.’
It also meant that of the sixty-four seats on the Council, instead of eight to each Island, there were nine to each Island, and ten to Alem. Or at least, that had been the case, until I’d killed Tas. Now it was nine to each of the remaining seven Islands, and then me. The ‘upstart Traveler.’
“They were just murdered,” I said to Amaya, when she came to find me late that afternoon. I’d finished the ‘assigned readings’ she’d given me and was looking back over that particular chapter of the first book. “The Lycaens were totally shoved out of society because they refused to stop worshiping the Moon alongside Mercedes.”
“It’s one of the more heinous things the Council has done,” the oryx-woman admitted. “The worship of the Moon used to be common. If he wasn’t appeased, he would commit more acts of jealousy. And he was still the light of the night, after all. He cut himself to satiate the bloodlust of the Scourge he created, as an apology to the suffering he caused.”
“But the Council and the Order don’t like anyone who doesn’t shut up and do as they say,” I said, and she nodded.
“My faith has been a… difficult journey,” she sighed. “Being so gifted with the Knowledge, I never had the room to question it in my youth, the way most children would. I was suddenly an acolyte, then an augur, then supposedly the next Prophetess. But all of those were just… distractions. True faith is not a rigid set of rules, necessarily. It’s love of Mercedes, trust in Her Will. I serve her, not the Order. And the Order are the ones creating these rules and rankings.”
“I’m glad you still have your faith,” I said honestly. “Some people might have given up on their goddess, after everything you’ve gone through.”
“I never gave up on Mercedes, though,” Amaya told me. “She didn’t name me Prophetess, or take my brother away from me. That was all the Council and the Order.”
“Gavlain was taken from you?” I asked, and the oryx-woman nodded.
“It’s an honor to be named Asher Lord of an Isle, but it’s also a monumental task,” she said. “My brother may never leave Nata except for short periods of time, and he may never become a member of the Council. I suspect he was ‘rewarded’ with his position because he made too much noise about mine. He didn’t like the idea that I was going to become the next Prophetess, taken away from my family, and turned into someone cold and loveless.”
“So, they took him away from his family, too,” I said softly. “Those bastards.”
At least I knew Gavlain would always be on my side. I hadn’t really thought he would be loyal to the Council, since he was such a decent man, but people could be intimidated by power and authority. However, if he’d spoken out against the Order and the Council before, I knew he would do it again if he had to.
“I didn’t see him for many seasons.” Amaya frowned, but it quickly turned into a small smile. “But I’m glad of the life he’s made for himself on Nata. He seems genuinely happy.”
“Meera is pretty cute,” I said, and I smiled at the memory of the deer-girl. “So. Etiquette. What does a Councilman need to know?”
Amaya then launched into a ruthlessly fast-paced and detailed rundown of all the dos-and-don’ts of upper-class Alemic society. I could not initiate a handshake or a conversation with someone of a higher Rank than myself, I had to wait until they approached first. I could not speak to another Asher’s wives without his express permission, and I was not allowed to touch them under any circumstances. I needed to use titles when referring to anyone of a higher rank than myself every time I spoke to them, but if it was someone of a lower rank than me, then I only had to use their title the first time in a conversation.
It was a dizzying flurry of rules and expectations and faux pas, but I had to learn them, because I didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to challenge me to a Duel. We’d committed ourselves to finding out what exactly was wrong with the Council and how to fix it, and we were going to fix it.
By the time Amaya had taught me everything I needed to know, I saw golden light filtering through the window of the library, and I realized it wasn’t sunset, but sunrise. We’d been going through the entire night.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “That took longer than I expected.”
“I tried to condense it as much as possible,” the oryx-woman told me with an apologetic wince. “There’s a lot. And it’s hard to explain the nuances when you grew up in that society. But you grasped most of it quite well, I think.”
“I’m glad you think so, I just hope the rest of Alem agrees,” I said with a slightly nervous laugh. I would have preferred to go another round with the earth guardians than speak to a group of stuffy elites. “And I trust you to steer me right if I need a bit of help.”
“You’ll be just fine, I’m sure,” Amaya said with a grin, and she reached up to kiss my cheek. “Do you want to try and get some sleep before we dock?”
As if he had been waiting for such a cue, Horus then rushed into the library.
“Alex!” he said urgently. “Look out the window!”
I ran to the window, suddenly panicked that there was a skybeast, or some other monster headed for our ship, but I just saw the endless expanse of crystal blue Ocean.
Or… no. There was something on the horizon, dark and uneven. Land.
Alem.
Chapter 7
Horus, Amaya, and I rushed to the top deck to get a proper look at the approaching Island, and when I confirmed we really were closing in on Alem, I was overtaken by a wave of excitement mixed with nervousness.
I’d been to other Islands before, but as an Ambassador on Gavlain Mec’s behalf. I hadn’t been invited to Alem, and it was the most prestigious, wealthy, and downright uptight in the Aventollian archipelago. Aside from Amaya’s crash course, I was in no way prepared for what awaited us once we landed, but I vowed we would see it through all the same.
“We don’t have long before we make landfall, and we will need to keep up appearances,” Sha-Kane said as he approached Horus, Amaya, and I on the deck. “You all need to get changed.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m currently wearing?” I asked. My clothes were clean and neat, a shirt and pants in leather boots. I hadn’t looked out of place on any of the other Islands, aside from the fact that I lacked animal attributes.
“Alem likes to present itself as a… cut above the rest,” the osprey-man replied. “Regular clothing won’t suffice. A Councilman, someone of your status-- even someone of Horus’ status-- will need to dress… grander. I think I have a spare set of Councilman’s robes that will work for you, however.”
I hadn’t been aware there was a uniform, but I was glad for Sha-Kane’s offer, and I followed the osprey-man to his room while Amaya went to find Zoie and Shay. As the wives of a Councilman, they would need to be in their metaphorical ‘Sunday best’ as well. Even Nova, who was technically my concubine, because we weren’t officially married yet, would need to look fancy.
The ‘uniform’ Sha-Kane eventually produced turned out to be fitted black pants and a black overshirt with leather panels on the chest and a high collar. It was similar to the long robes Sha-Kane had been wearing when we’d first met, just before Horus’ trial. They were accompanied by a sleek black cloak trimmed in white that was designed to hang over my left shoulder, and there was a silver crest on the breast of the shirt, over my heart.
“Ignore that,” the osprey-man said, and he physically ripped the metal crest off the shirt. “That is the crest of Nata, since I am a Natavian Duelist. You would either wear the Alemic crest, since you took Tas’ seat, or none at all, since you belong to no Island.”
“Does the Isle of Hearts have a crest?” I asked him, and Sha-Kane thought for a moment before he shook his head.
I remembered designing my seal at Jenner’s desk in the library with Zoie. She’d received some tips from Shay, so maybe the pair of them could come up with a crest suitable for a Traveler.
“Unfortunately, I only have one medallion,” Sha-Kane told me, and he held up the gold disc with the backward ‘C’ stamped in the center. Like when I’d first seen it, there was a dot in the center of the ‘C,’ and it was balanced on a caret or circumflex. The two inlaid sapphires winked at me as if to say ‘you don’t have one.’
“They’ll probably assign me one when I arrive, right?” I asked.
“Most likely. But it’s also possible you might be able to find Teivel’s old medallion. I doubt he would have taken such a blatantly identifying piece of treasure on his little ship. He would have probably left it at home.”
Teivel certainly hadn’t been dressed in these sleek black robes when we’d Dueled, so I had to suppose Sha-Kane was right.
“Other than that,” I said to him. “How do I look?”
“Very much like a Councilman,” the osprey-man assured me as he fastened the medallion to his own cloak. “But the lack of a crest and medallion will be noted. We should rectify them as soon as we can-- certainly the medallion, at least. You may choose to forego a crest.”
I examined the Natavian crest on Sha-Kane’s own uniform. It was a shield shape that curved into a point at the bottom, and the two lines that formed the top also curved down before swooping up to meet in a point. In the center was a single feather, richly engraved in solid silver. Simple, but elegant.
“You should give the other crest to Horus,” I advised the older man. “He might not be a Councilman now, but he’ll become one when you die. He should have a crest.”
“That’s… that’s a good idea,” the osprey-man said in a soft voice, and he ran his long fingers over the crest he’d torn off my robes.
It was a surprisingly quiet, almost personal moment, and I felt kind of bad that I was basically intruding on it.
“So, uh… Are you nervous about returning to the Council?” I then asked, and Sha-Kane shrugged.
“I have not spent time there for many seasons,” he answered. “My mentor, Shaw Aras, had estates on Leen of which I was particularly fond. If I wasn’t traveling, I spent most of my time there. I was a good friend to the Asher Lord, there. Ferran Hana.”
“Hana?” I asked. “Like Bodin Hana?”
“The family trees of Leen are wide-spanning,” Sha-Kane told me. “I suspect Bodin is a distant relative of Ferran, by marriage if not by blood. It has always been the preference of the Leenian people to name someone tangentially related to the noble families as the Island’s Asher Lord. I doubt he was a prince, though. That would be too blatantly favoring.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said with a frown. “Bodin’s a prince. Does that mean Leen is also ruled by a king?”
“Not precisely,” the osprey-man answered. “The term ‘prince’ more refers to the inheritance of a great House. Bodin is the eldest son of his father, and his father is the head of the entire House of Hana, the main branch. The… trunk on the family tree, if you like. It’s not the same as a monarchy, but the responsibilities are vast nonetheless.”
“I hope he doesn’t feel overwhelmed when he returns, then,” I said before I paused. “Wait… he’s still officially dead. Can he even assume that throne?”
“He may have to, if he wishes to protect Vel-Rala,” Sha-Kane replied. “If he cannot claim his status as an Asher and a prince, the Order may overlook the fact she is with child altogether.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, and something cold and unpleasant began to roil in the pit of my stomach.
