David Weber - Hell Hath No Fury

"I wish, Sir-you don't know how badly I wish-that he hadn't been here," the regiment-captain said softly. "We'd never have held this post without him, but-gods!" He shook his head, eyes gleaming with remembered tears as he looked back down at the body. "To lose him like that, so young. So full of promise. I know we always think crown princes are 'full of promise,' but Triad above, he was. He really was!"

"I know." Chan Geraith reached out and squeezed chan Skrithik's left shoulder, careful to make no sudden movements near Taleena. "I know."

"He told me he had to be here," chan Skrithik continued. "I wanted to argue with him, but somehow I just couldn't. And gods know, I needed him. With all the civilians, the portal's strategic importance … I just couldn't tell him no. And to the very last moment of his life, he was totally focused on saving the rest of us. On doing his duty. On being certain I knew what he'd Glimpsed. Without that knowledge, that warning, we never would have held. Hells, without his warning we'd all have died in our beds! He saved us all, and at least I can honestly tell his parents that he died almost instantly. He never could have known what hit him."

"Oh, he knew, Regiment-Captain," chan Geraith said quietly. "He knew exactly. He Saw it coming-he experienced it-before the first Arcanan ever came into sight of your fort here."

"Sir?" The word came out half-strangled as chan Skrithik's head whipped back around. He stared into chan Geraith's eyes, and the division-captain nodded slowly.

"He was in fugue state," he said simply, "and his Talent was never as strong as his father's, or his sister's.

For him to enter fugue state, it had to be a Death Glimpse. He knew he was going to die if he stayed here, Regiment-Captain chan Skrithik. He Saw it. He even sent me a message that told me he knew … and prevented me from ordering you to have him removed from Fort Salby, by force if necessary."

Chan Skrithik's face was twisted with a deeper, fresher anguish, and even though chan Geraith had no trace of Talent, he felt the other man's pain like his own. Part of him felt guilty for inflicting that fresh pain upon him, but it was important that chan Skrithik know, that everyone know, that Janaki chan Calirath had gone knowingly to his death, offering up his life to save thousands of others.

"It's the motto of his House, Regiment-Captain," Arlos chan Geraith said softly, quietly, into the silence, feeling Sunlord Markan at his elbow. ""thinspace"'I Stand Between.' I stand between evil and its victims, between darkness and light. I stand between right and wrong. I stand between my people and their enemies … and between the people I am sworn to protect and death. There's a reason men and women have followed Caliraths straight into the fire for thousands of years, Regiment-Captain, and we-

you and I-have been honored to see precisely what that reason is."

"What is it, Alazon?" Darcel Kinlafia's brown eyes looked into eyes of gray, and Alazon Yanamar didn't need the bond between them to taste his deep concern. "What's worrying her so badly?"

He turned his head away once again, gazing down the palace corridor where Grand Princess Andrin had just disappeared. The young woman's spine was as straight, her carriage as graceful, as ever, but her eyes had been unquiet for days, cosmetics could not disguise the dark shadows under them, and she had walked past Alazon and Kinlafia without even noticing their presence.

"I can't tell you that, love."

Alazon reached up and touched his cheek gently, and his eyes narrowed. There were times when the closeness of a bond like theirs had its downside. He could tell that whatever was haunting Andrin was causing Alazon deep distress, as well. At the same time, he was a Voice himself. He understood the responsibilities, the privacy oaths of any Voice, far less the Emperor of Ternathia's Privy Voice.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I shouldn't have asked you. It's just that … I hate seeing her this way."

"I know you do." Alazon stroked his cheek one more time, then tucked her arm through his and began walking him down the same corridor. "I think everyone does," she continued. "Triad knows I do, but then," she glanced up at him, "most of us have known her since she was a little girl."

"Point taken, My Lady," he said with a slightly lopsided smile.

"If you don't want to tell me what's going on between the two of you, that's fine," she Said, deliberately using her Voice so there could be no question of her sincerity. "But if it's something I can help with-

help her or you-you know you only have to ask."

"Of course I know," he Told her in reply. "And it's certainly not that I don't want to tell you. It's just that I'm not really sure what's happening myself. And there are some … privacy issues of my own I have to work through."

"I can understand that," she Said, and in the side traces of her Voice, he Heard her memory of the echoes she'd felt when his shared Glimpse with Zindele had hammered through him. She couldn't help feeling that memory, putting it together with a dozen other little clues, and realizing-in general terms, at least-what must have happened. Yet she made absolutely no effort to use the knowledge he knew she already possessed as some sort of opening wedge, and he sent a warm flood of love and gratitude over their bond.

"You know she's already planning to organize our wedding for us, don't you?" Alazon continued, her mental tone lighter as she deliberately changed the subject. "From a few things she's said, I think she's planning on pulling out all the stops, too."

"Oh, wonderful!" Kinlafia's Voice was so tart Alazon chuckled out loud. "You do realize that my parents-both of my parents-are good New Farnalian Social Republicans, don't you? They're going to have enough trouble with my marrying an emperor's privy voice without having said emperor's daughter organizing the ceremony!"

"Oh, stop worrying!" she Scolded. "Every parent wants his or her child to do well in life. Just because your parents are Socialists doesn't change that! After you get elected to the new Imperial House of Talents, they'll be so proud of you they won't even notice who you're marrying. For that matter, you may find they've turned into staunch Imperialists once they see you wheeling and dealing in the very cockpit of power, as it were."

Kinlafia rolled his eyes.

"If simple confidence were enough to get elected, we wouldn't even have to count the ballots with you around," he Said dryly. "Unfortunately, I think it's a little more complicated than that."

"Not when Zindel chan Calirath puts his mind to it, it isn't," she Told him serenely. "And not when the candidate is as completely and totally right for the job as you are."

He squeezed her elbow against his side as the warmth and confidence flowed out of her into him, and yet her mention of the Emperor had brought him back his concern over Andrin. Zindel was older than Andrin, more experienced at dealing with-and concealing-the telltale symptoms of a Glimpse … despite which, it was obvious to Kinlafia that whatever was riding Andrin like some sort of unrelenting nightmare was also pursuing Zindel. And the ripples spreading from his and his daughter's anxiety were afflicting the Empress and her younger daughters, as well, even if they had no idea what that anxiety's root cause might be.

"Maybe the Ball will help," Alazon Said hopefully.

"And maybe the Ball will send her right over the edge!" Kinlafia shook his head. "The mere thought of it is coming close to having that effect on me, at any rate!"

"Nonsense! You'll be the most handsome man there, not to mention the most famous. In fact, I'm planning to be intolerably jealous when all these court ladies come fluttering around you, asking to dance."