City in the Sky (7 page)

Arien tilted her head. “Why did you come here so quickly?” she asked.

The older Aeraid took her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face Erik. “My Lady Arien
septol
Tarverro,” he said formally, “meet Erik Tarverro.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “Karn's son,” he finished, gently.

Erik met his grandmother's gaze as the old woman froze. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Erik could see, now, the similarities between this woman's features and his own.

“Karn's son?” she questioned. Erik nodded. “Harmon?”

“Yes, My Lady?” Ikeras replied immediately.

“Leave us.” The tone of command was completely different from her comfortable familiarity of a moment before.

The Aeraid bowed. “Understood. This is
sept
business, not mine.”

Silence reigned in the room as Ikeras let himself out, and then Erik found his gaze locked by Arien's again. “I can see a resemblance,” she said softly, almost to herself, “and I do not believe Ikeras would intentionally deceive me. Nonetheless, this is hard to believe.”

“How do you think I feel?” Erik said softly. “My father died years ago – I never even knew the man, let alone that I had family on his side.”

“Dead?” Arien said, lowering herself into a chair. “I feared as much when my efforts to find him, when your grandfather died eight years ago, failed.”

“Eight years ago?” Erik said softly. “He was twelve years dead by then.”

“Tell me,” Arien told him. “
Please
, tell me... how my son died.”

He shook his head, realizing it was the wrong question. “I'll tell you how he lived,” he told her.

Erik knew nothing first-hand of his father's life in Vidran, but his grandfather had told him much of his parents and their love for each other. Everything he knew, he told his grandmother. He told her of the whirlwind courtship, the marriage, of the love they'd held that had never seemed to diminish.

And he told her of the fire, and the choice his father must have made among the flames and smoke. He told of the man who, realizing that he could only save one person, chose to save his child rather than living without his wife.

He told his grandmother all that he knew of his father in life, and watched her tears fall slowly, gently, the tears of a mother for the son she should never have outlived. By the time he finished, the sun was down and the maid had lit soft oil lamps to light the living room.

They sat in silence for a time, and Arian spoke first in the end. “I do not believe that you lie, but I must have proof. Show me the amulet.”

Without a word, Erik removed the crystals on their chain and passed them to her. The old woman raised it up, allowing the drained crystals to reflect the lamplight, for a moment seeming to glow like they'd never been touched. As the crystals turned in the light, Erik realized where he'd recognized the symbol on the outside of the house – the crystals on the amulet were formed in the same pattern.

“Harmon would not know the significance of this,” Arien said finally. “His family may be
hepti
, but it is a tradition only the
sept
follow, and not one we speak of much.”

“Which tradition?” Erik asked. “And who are the '
sept
'? And the '
hept'
, for that matter.”

She smiled, her eyes tired. “The
sept
and
hept
are the noble families of the Aeradi. I will instruct you more in their nature as time goes by, but only one thing is important now. These amulets,” she twisted it in her fingers and it shone in the light again, “are given to the
septon
s – the family patriarchs – and their heirs.”

“Heirs?” Erik could not imagine his father being the heir to
anything
. “To what?”

“To the authority, wealth, powers and ancient rights of their
sept
,” Arien replied. “Your father felt he could leave because I was pregnant with a younger brother for him – a replacement heir so to speak. But that child died,” she continued, old grief adding to the new in her face, “and both your grandfather and father are dead.”

Erik looked at her, confused. “So?”

“Some
sept
have many members, side families and so forth,” Arien said softly, “but the
sept
Tarverro has only the direct line. Your father and grandfather are gone, and a female can only hold the authority in trust for a male.” The glimmer of the crystals vanished as Arien clenched it in her fist. “Which means, my grandson, that we must find you a replacement for this amulet, as it would never do for Lord Erik
septon
Tarverro, heir to and master of the most ancient and respected
sept
in the city of Newport, to wear a discharged protective amulet.”

Erik stared at her in shock.
He
was a lord? The descendant of an ancient and powerful line?

“It can't be,” he said aloud.

“It is,” Arien said simply. A grin, a small one under the grief he'd brought her, appeared on her face. “And aren't some of our fellow
ept
going to just
piss
themselves at the thought of a half-blood
septon
!”

Arien refused to tell him any more that night, simply arranging for him to be put up in a room, with a comment of “Now that you're here, we can justify opening up the main house.”

The room was as comfortable as he could imagine, but sleep refused to come to him. In the course of a handful of hours, everything seemed to have changed. A few hours ago, he'd been a poor smith seeking his father's family. Now, he was apparently the lord of a noble clan.

It was hard to accept, and the thought kept him tossing and turning all night. When the maid knocked on his door in the morning, he was already awake, up and shaving.

“Come in,” he answered, and stepped out of the small bathroom attached to the room, toweling off his face.

The Aeradi maid curtsied nervously to him, clearly made nervous by this huge stranger. Conceiving of himself as large and intimidating – the last thing he'd been among humans – was enough to bring a smile to his lips, which seemed to help the girl relax.

“Milord
septon
,” she addressed him, “your lady grandmother sent me to fetch you. She's presenting you to the
kep
this morning.”

Erik still wasn't entirely clear on just who the
kep
were, but he also knew that, official authority or no official authority, Arien
septol
Tarverro would rule this sept in reality until she died. Which meant that if she wanted Erik Tarverro, the official
septon
of this clan, to turn up to be presented to the
kep
, Erik
septon
Tarverro was bloody well going to turn up.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I will be down shortly.”

The girl curtsied again and fled the room. With her absence, Erik began to sort through his trunks, looking for his formal tunic. He doubted it was Aeradi style, but it was all he had.

In the end, the charcoal gray tunic and doublet appeared to pass Arien's inspection. When he came down, she looked him over, straightened the doublet and nodded cordially to him.

“It's not what they'll expect,” she murmured, “but that's all to the good.”

“Oh?” Erik asked.

“By now,” she told him, “the rumor that there is a new
septon
Tarverro is beginning to percolate around the city. Without any intervention on our part, it will be all over the city by morning. By tomorrow morning, the fact that you're a half-blood will begin to spread. That will take longer to spread, as people will find it difficult to believe.” The old Aeradi woman shrugged. “I don't intend to let that happen.

“We'll introduce you to the
kep
this morning. That's important – technically, you're not
septon
until they approve you. There won't be an issue, though,” she told him, soothingly. “You're Karn's son and have my support. They'll accept you.”

“Good to know,” Erik replied, still nervous over the sudden change in his status and life.

“Later, we'll take you to the tailors and get you fitted out in the
sept
colors,” she added.

“Didn't you just say the clothes were fine?” Erik asked.

“They're fine for being presented to the
kep
,” Arien replied. “They won't do, however, for your presentation to the King and the Court tonight. We'll also need to get you a sky steel sword, but that may take too long to have it for tonight.”

“I have one,” Erik told her. “The story behind it is… complicated.”

Arien looked at him. “I think I may want that story – indeed, I believe I will want
all
your stories, grandson – but for now, it's good that you have the blade. Only the
septon
s and wing-lancers can bear a sky steel sword into the King's presence. Carrying it will drive home your status to those who doubt.”

“How many will doubt?” he had to ask.

She shrugged. “There will be some. Most won't object, but those who do will object strongly.” Arien paused and glanced at the crystal clock on the wall. “But instructing you in the intricacies of our politics, and why some will hate you and some won't must wait. The
kep
will be here now.”

His grandmother led Erik to the main house and into a large meeting hall off the main corridor. Clearly, the house staff had spent at least the morning clearing the room, as it gleamed. The wood of the furniture and the stone of the pillars and walls had been polished until they shone, and the cushions of the furniture had been cleaned and dusted.

Scattered on the chairs throughout the room were about thirty or so older men. Erik noted that they practically ignored him, their eyes solely for Arien. Despite her small stature, even for an Aeradi, and advanced age, it was clear who the power here was.

Only one man noticed Erik. Harmon
hept
Ikeras sat next to a man who had to be his older brother. He met Erik's eyes and winked. Somehow, the gesture made him feel better.

Arien directed him to a seat by the dark wooden podium at the head of the room, and then stepped to the podium herself.

“Gentlemen,” she said softly, and Erik noted that the tracery of crystal he could see on the top of the podium appeared to function as a projector. Arien didn't speak loudly, and her voice didn't sound loud, but it did fill every corner of the room.

“You're wondering why you're here,” she continued. It wasn't a question; it was a statement. She had likely known every man in here since they were born. “You are here because it is my solemn duty to inform you that what we believed is true: my son, Karn
sept
Tarverro, the man who should have been your
septon
, is dead.”

A rustle surged through the room, but Arien silenced it with a gesture. “However, along with this discovery, I have learned something else. Something that means that I will no longer be your
septol
.”

She let the moment of quiet that answered that hang for a moment, as the heads of the
kep
families of the
sept
Tarverro considered what she meant, and then gestured Erik forward.

“
Kep
of Tarverro, Karn had a son,” she said flatly. “I present to you Erik
septi
Tarverro, son of Karn and grandson of Emil. He is my grandson and your
septon
by right of blood.”

Erik stood and stepped forward to join her at the podium. Dead silence reigned in the room as the
kep
took him in. He made an intimidating figure standing there. The formal tunic and doublet of Vidran style was tight enough to make clear the heavy muscles of the smith he'd been to make his living and the swordsman he'd been as a hobby. If the muscles weren't enough, he overtopped the next tallest man in the room by a good three inches. While he'd been short for a human, he was toweringly tall for an Aeradi.

Erik saw Harmon nudge his brother, who then stood, quietly, and met his eyes. “The
hept
Ikeras,
kep
Tarverro accepts this man as the
septon
Tarverro,” he said formally.

A moment later, another man stood. “The Adera family,
kep
Tarverro, accepts this man as
septon
Tarverro,” he also stated.