Michelle West - Sun Sword 01 - The Broken Crown by Michelle West

Author:Michelle West
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780886777401
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1997-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

28th of Morel, 427 AA

Averalaan, Avantari

"This was the third attempt on Ser Valedan di'Leonne's life in less than three weeks!"

"We're well aware of that."

"How is it that, in three weeks, your security has been so poor that not once, not twice, but thrice, the boy's life has been endangered?"

Commander Sivari had a headache that would not go away. The portly, loud, and theatrically enraged Annagarian seated—if the up and down, back and forth motion could be dignified with the word—before him had been in his office for no less than three quarters of an hour, sweat-draped vermilion silks flouncing about as he gesticulated.

It was a pity, the commander thought idly, that weapon skill and endurance faded with age, but the ability to sit behind a desk and write out commands did not. The desk was a front line that he had grown to loathe over the years.

"… and we demand justice!"

Prattle. Frothing. Abuse.

"The Imperial Court accepted us as hostages—you've accepted the responsibility for our safety and our well-being. Are you listening?"

It was a pity. Most of the Annagarians that Sivari had met were a quiet and controlled bunch; people who preferred a silken, understated threat to a blather of incoherent babble. That type of Annagarian, he could deal with. Besides which, Ser Oscari was cerdan, not hostage; guard, not valuable noble.

"Don't just sit there, Valedan, speak up for yourself!" The large man pushed the younger one forward in his seat.

Unfortunately, the young man wasn't expecting the blow, and righted himself only by flattening his palms against the surface of Sivari's desk. Sivari's crowded desk.

"No. Don't touch them. I'll tend to them later." He tried to smile, but his face was too stiff from maintaining a studied, neutral expression through the older man's babble. "Ser Oscari, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Wouldn't mind what?"

"Wouldn't mind leaving us to speak."

"Leave? Why should I? No one's tried to kill the boy when an Annagarian's been around—or hadn't you noticed that?"

"That's not true, Oscari," the boy interjected, his voice a study in quiet deference. "Serra Alina was there the third time."

"Serra Alina is a woman. I am a clansman!" The older man shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You see?" he said, jabbing the air in front of the Commander. "This is what comes of sending a boy too young to the North! He forgets himself! He forgets our customs!"

"The customs of the Valley," Commander Sivari said quietly, "are not the customs of the rest of the Dominion." Besides which, he had thrice had occasion to speak with Serra Alina, and she had a temper which, while cool and polite and perfectly hidden beneath a composed and elegant exterior, exposed Oscari's for the bluster that it was.

Ser Oscari di'Vanera drew himself up to his full height. "And just what," he said, "do you mean by that?"

Or perhaps it was just the merchants. "Ser Oscari," the Commander said, "I mean that you are cerdan, not Tor or Tyr. It is your job, and your right, to protect your clan.

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