Cast In Honour. Michelle Sagara

He’s pretty much never cranky at you.” Unlike Diarmat. It was possibly the first kind thought she’d had about Diarmat—and that was upsetting in an entirely different way. She looked up; Bellusdeo was smiling. Her eyes were gold.

      Tain’s eyes, on the other hand, were blue.

      “Teela’s here,” Kaylin told him, although he hadn’t asked. “She’s arguing with Annarion.”

      “Good luck with that.”

      “Mandoran’s on her side.”

      “You think that’s going to change the outcome?” Tain snorted. “I honestly do not see the appeal of children.”

      “They’re not exactly children.”

      “I’ve lived with them. That’s exactly what they are. They might not appear to be young in the fashion of mortal children, but they have the fecklessness of Barrani youth, coupled with far too much power.”

      Kaylin remembered what Mandoran had said about living with Tain; he’d likened it to a dungeon, but less dark. She coughed to cover her amusement, because laughter wasn’t going to make Tain feel any better.

      “What are they arguing about?”

      “Nightshade.”

      Irritation drained from Tain’s expression. “What is Annarion going to do?”

      “Best guess?”

      Tain nodded.

      “He’s going to head into the fiefs.” She smacked herself in the forehead. “That’s what I forgot!”

      “You don’t intend to tell Annarion what Gilbert said, surely.”

      Kaylin blinked.

      “If you don’t want him charging into the heart of the fiefs, you’ll keep it strictly to yourself.”

      “I think it’s too late.”

      Tain pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the Barrani equivalent of smacking himself in the face.

      “I didn’t tell him—I haven’t seen him since I got back. I visited Evanton and endured a faceful of raging Leontine sergeant, and I’m trying to convince Moran that she wants to stay here instead of living in the infirmary for three months. If Annarion knows, it’s because Teela told him.”

      “If Teela told him, she has her reasons.”

      But if Kaylin told him, she wouldn’t? Kaylin glared at Tain; Tain ignored it. “I can’t think of any other reason they’d be arguing. Helen had to go downstairs to help out; she thinks Annarion’s close to losing it.”

      This did not change the color of Tain’s eyes any.

      “What were you thinking, bringing them back from the West March?”

      “I didn’t bring ‘them’; I brought Mandoran. He would have come on his own anyway, because Annarion was here. I didn’t expect—” She exhaled, thinking about Moran, and the Hawks that had not survived the ancestors’ attack. “I was thinking that they were Teela’s friends, that they were people she trusted and that she’d thought they were lost forever. I was thinking that it would be as if they were let out of jail after a really, really long sentence.

      “I didn’t understand what they were—or weren’t. But neither did Teela.”

      Bellusdeo said, “Leave her alone, Tain. What’s happened has happened. There was no malice or ill intent.”

      “They weren’t your losses.”

      “No?” Bellusdeo drew herself up to her full height, which was much more impressive than Kaylin’s.

      To Kaylin’s surprise, Tain looked away first. “Apologies,” he said—and even sounded as if he meant it, although Barrani were very capable liars. “I am worried—”

      “About Teela, yes. I imagine she appreciates it about as much as I would.”

      This startled a genuine laugh from the Barrani Hawk. “At least as much” was his rueful reply. “Teela’s family lost a lot to the wars, but I can see why she likes you.”

      “I lost everything,” Bellusdeo replied. “But yes, it’s hard to dislike Teela. It’s much easier to dislike Mandoran.”

      “Agreed on both counts.” Tain then turned to Kaylin and opened his mouth to speak. Severn, however, gave them all a quiet heads-up as Moran descended the stairs.

      * * *

      The absolute ruler of the infirmary stopped for a moment in the doorway when she saw Severn and Tain. Then she walked past them to the table, and to the backless stool positioned in its center. She sat heavily.

      Helen appeared with food—which was to say, food appeared on the table and Helen came into the room. “You’ll want to speak with Annarion, dear,” she told Kaylin.

      That was not the first item on Kaylin’s list of desirable activities.

      “I know. But he is upset. I’ve created a containment; he should be able to rage as much as he wants without ill effect on the rest of the house. I cannot, however, continue to confine him.”

      “Meaning he can leave anytime he wants.”

      “He is a guest, not a prisoner—but even were he to be a prisoner, I have become too diminished to maintain a cell for either him or Mandoran for long. Mandoran did ask,” she added. “He is also very, very worried about Annarion.”

      “Is Teela less worried than she was?”

      “No, dear. I would say she is vastly more worried than she was.”

      Tain grimaced. Teela worried was about as much fun as Marcus enraged.

      “Did I come at a bad time?” Moran asked, entering the conversation.

      “No!” Kaylin said, before Helen could reply, although it was to Helen she’d directed the question.

      “In my experience,” Helen replied, with a gentle smile, “there is never a good or a bad time. There is only time. Please, eat. You haven’t had dinner yet, and neither has Kaylin.” She turned to Tain. “I don’t believe we’ve met, and I am not always conversant with the social customs of my guests.”