A Matter of Oaths (38 page)

“It wouldn’t work. I know that.” Ayvar made a gesture of
resignation. “I’ll admit, I don’t want you in a patrolship. I don’t think I
could bear to mourn you again.”

“You’ll have to do it eventually,” Rafe said harshly.

“You could stay in the Guild — still web — without being
Commander of a patrolship. Commander Rallya doesn’t want to stay on the
Council. You could take her place…”

“Stop planning my future for me!” Rafe yelled. “I don’t want
to be on the Council any more than Rallya does.”

“And I wouldn’t stand aside for you,” Rallya added drily. “Having
seen the havoc you can wreak as a First, I dread to think what you’d achieve as
Guild Commander.” She looked across at Joshim, wondering how much longer he
could be so blind. “There is another option, Rafe. Since I’m the only person I
can trust to run this damned desk properly,
Bhattya
is short of a Commander. Temporarily. And since she’s been mine since she came
out of the construction dock, I’ve the right to choose my replacement.”

Ayvar glared at her. Rafe looked past them both at Joshim. “Would
you…”

Say yes, you fool, Rallya urged Joshim.

“Yes,” Joshim said simply.

“You’d have to ask Vidar…”

“I have.” Joshim moved, passing Ayvar to go to Rafe’s side. “Even
a Commander has to take Webmaster’s orders,” he said, smiling a little. “Especially
a Webmaster who knows what Hafessya saw you doing. Bed. Before you fall over.” He
slipped an arm around Rafe to support him; Rafe did not fight it.

“Lin.”

Rafe paused in the doorway, still holding onto Joshim.

“You’ll come to me when you can?” Ayvar asked.

“Yes.” Very quietly.

Thank the gods that was settled, Rallya thought as Joshim
closed the door. The outcome had been obvious to anybody with a pair of brain
cells, but like most spectator sports, love was chiefly enjoyable for the
incompetence of its participants.

“Looks like you and Julur both lost him,” she said to Ayvar
with satisfaction.

“Temporarily.” He sat in the seat that Rafe had left.

“He won’t change his mind.”

“I can afford to wait.” Ayvar smiled broadly. “You’re a
loser too, in your own terms.”

Rallya scowled around the office. “Tell me that when I’ve
written you an Oath so tight even Julur can’t break it.” She lifted her feet
onto the desk. There were some compensations — the pain-killers for her hip for
one, and the chance to see Rafe make fools of two Emperors. She frowned,
thinking just what fools he
had
made
of them. They were both so damned irrational over him, and so determined to
keep him alive…

“Oh gods,” she breathed in disbelief. “You
can
afford to wait, can’t you?”

Ayvar smiled again. “A few tens of years,” he confirmed.

“Does he know?”

“No, and it would be a kindness not to tell him. He’ll have
to live with it for long enough when he does realize. I want him to have what
mortal life he can.”

“Oh gods,” Rallya repeated. “Two of you are enough trouble. Three
of you, including him…”
Having seen the
havoc he can wreak as a First, I dread to think what he’d achieve…
Her own
words came back to her with force. Rafe as an immortal, as an Emperor… She
shivered, for him and for all the people he would touch. “Over my dead body he
gets control of the Guild.”

It was the wrong thing to say about an immortal.

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