Kedrin's voice jarred abruptly through Saviar's muddling thoughts. "Savi?"
"Mmmm?" Saviar returned, unwilling to abandon the welcome comfort of drowsiness. If he focused too hard on his grandfather, he might come fully awake and have difficulty relocating this fine and comfortable place.
"They've called a special Council meeting for the morning. A Nordmirian ship docked this evening."
That fully roused Saviar. He propped himself onto an elbow, though he could barely discern Ra-khir's and Kedrin's beds through the darkness. Ra-khir slept between them. "A Nordmirian ship?" The Northlands consisted of a vast, frozen territory supporting several tribes who seemed constantly at war with one another. Aside from traders, they interacted rarely with the West. They also held a deep-rooted and deftly taught hatred for the Renshai tribe, once a part of them. Saviar could not keep suspicion from his tone. "Why?"
"We'll find out tomorrow." Kedrin peered across Ra-khir. "If I had to guess, I would venture it had something to do with ore."
"Ore?" Still leaning on his elbow, Saviar crinkled his forehead, though Kedrin could not see his confusion through the darkness. The chill of the sheets gave way to the trapped warmth of Saviar's body.
"Iron ore," Kedrin explained. "The West's great mines are nearly tapped out. The East has never been a good source, but the North has the most productive mines in the world."
"Really?" Saviar wondered how he had gone through his entire childhood obsessed with steel and yet had never known this fact. It's because Renshai care only about ability and maneuvers.When they need supplies, they buy or, in the past, take them. In that context, it made sense that the Renshai would pay little attention to such details. They also knew nothing about hunting or fishing, about clothing or adornments.
"Really, Saviar. And I thought you might want to attend the Council meeting."
Ra-khir stiffened suddenly, apparently jarred awake. He stretched beneath his covers, politely quiet.
"Really?" This time, the word emerged as a squeak. Saviar could scarcely believe the invitation. At only eighteen, he might become a part of kingdom politics, of an affair with vast significance.
Apparently misinterpreting Saviar's question, Kedrin added, "All right, I admit it. They're dead boring. But I thought someone who had never seen the Council Room might find even the regular goings-on of some interest. Also, I know you've never met a live Northman. I've always felt it better to form opinions based on reality rather than stereotypes and stories."
Saviar understood the underlying point. His mother held an entrenched disdain for all things Northern and tended to voice her opinion at any opportunity. Usually, Renshai remained aloof from discussions of their Northern cousins; but there was clearly no love lost and some actual hatred on their side as well. "I'd like to come, Grandpapa. Thank you for inviting me."
"You're welcome," Kedrin said sincerely, settling back beneath his covers. "Dress appropriately, and I will expect you to remain a silent observer."
The mere thought of speaking out in front of diplomats and royalty made Saviar quail. "Silent, of course. I would very much prefer it." He rolled to his side, prepared to fall asleep. Before he had a chance to settle in, however, Ra-khir finally spoke.
"Pardon me for overhearing the end of your conversation, Father, but did you just invite Saviar to the Council meeting?"
Kedrin sat up. "Indeed I did. Is that a problem?"
Saviar closed his eyes. He seemed to be the cause of a lot of friction between his father and grandfather these days. Nothing he could say would seem anything but rude, so he remained utterly silent and chased sleep.
"Not per se." Ra-khir's tone remained neutral, with just an edge of discomfort. He did not seem angry. "I think everyone should have an idea of how a kingdom operates, and Saviar is lucky to have some of the same opportunities I did to learn. However, under the circumstances…"
Saviar assumed his own curiosity seemed to lengthen Ra-khir's pause until Kedrin spoke to fill the gap.
"Yes, Ra-khir? What about the current circumstances bothers you?"
"It's just that Thialnir arrived last night." Ra-khir referred to the Renshai's representative at the conference table. "A Nordmirian captain and a hardheaded Renshai in the same small room? Why not just hand my son a burning brand to snuff in a barrel of oil? The king's guards will have enough to worry about without an extra Renshai."
Kedrin sounded affronted. "My grandson wouldn't engage in any violence that might endanger the high king."
"Your grandson," Ra-khir replied stiffly, "is Renshai."
Saviar was speaking before he could stop himself, "His grandson is in the damned room!"
Both men fell silent and turned toward the boy.
"First, I'm highly offended that you think because I'm Renshai I can't control myself."
Ra-khir recoiled, his tone turning defensive. "That's not what I meant, Savi."
Saviar continued, "I can't say for sure how I'll react in a situation I've never been in before." He sat up, now fully awake. "I certainly hope I would never engage in any behavior that might put King Griff in danger. But you're right about one thing." Saviar made a vague gesture toward Ra-khir in acknowledgment. "Regardless of what I would or wouldn't do, having a second Renshai in the room will alarm the guards and make their job harder. I don't want to be responsible for that."
Kedrin's voice seemed soft in comparison. "A good point well made. I concur and surrender to you both." He addressed Saviar directly. "Perhaps another time?"
Saviar liked that his grandfather could admit defeat with extraordinary grace. It was an important lesson his torke would never teach him. "I would like that very much, Grandpapa. One day very soon, it will happen."
Talamir awakened to a deep inner pain that seemed to stretch through his skin, and a throbbing headache. He rolled to his stomach. The biting cold of this new portion of the stone floor seeped through him. An odd, bitter taste filled his mouth. He forced himself to hands and knees, the movement telling him two things. First, he was unarmed; and, second, he had to vomit. He did so in a mu cousy pile, then recoiled from it, wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve.
"You're up," a voice purred behind him.
Talamir whirled with a speed that stole his balance and sent him retching again. He vomited for a long time, unable to gain control of his heaving gut until well after the last watery contents of his stomach trickled onto the floor. Two more things entered his consciousness in that time: he lay in a barred cell, and the man who had addressed him was the same one who had whispered to him in the court. Again, the Shadow Leader wore the black swirl of garments, silver around his covered face.
Talamir wanted to turn his back but worried about his self-control and balance. "You poisoned me, you ignoble bastard. You poisoned me."
"I didn't poison you."
The composure of the response incited Talamir. "You did! You poisoned me."
"If I poisoned you, you would be dead."
Talamir sank to the floor again, taking care to miss the disgorged contents of his stomach. He clamped his hands to his head. "I wish I were dead."
"If you really mean it, Talamir, that can be arranged. You are under order of execution."
The words only angered the Renshai. At least, if the poison had finished him, he might have died in battle. He had had a chance to find Valhalla. Now, he would die a craven, a coward executed by a king who claimed to love his son but had chosen to torture him in the worst possible way. "You should have killed me in the courtroom. I could have died a-" He made the most vigorous hand gesture he dared. "You wouldn't understand."