Paul Kemp - Shadowbred

Cale did not, but nodded anyway. His god had no temples other than alleys. His god had knife fights with his Chosen.

"Vees could tell us that the rites required nude virgins dancing in the moonlight and I would know no better. Who has ever heard of Siamorphe? You will be pressed for worshipers, my friend."

Vees only smiled. "Perhaps. But we go where we are called."

Irwyl entered with a bottle of Uskevren wine and three goblets.

"Ever timely," Tamlin said. Irwyl distributed the goblets and poured. Cale allowed a fill out of politeness, though he did not intend to drink. Irwyl left the bottle on a side table. He noticed that the pawn had been moved on the chessboard, frowned, and returned it to its original position.

Irwyl asked, "Will Mister Cale be staying in the manse?"

"Of course," Tamlin answered, without consulting Cale. "Mister Cale will serve as an advisor to the hulorn, if he so pleases."

Tamlin looked the question at Cale and Cale nodded. Tamlin said to Irwyl, "See to it that a room is prepared."

"Will your old quarters suffice, Mister Cale?" Irwyl asked.

"They are tiny!" Tamlin said. "I will not hear of it."

"I would prefer it, my lord," Cale said. "That would be fine, Irwyl."

"I will see to it," Irwyl said, and turned to Tamlin. "Will that be all, my lord?"

"Yes, Irwyl," Tamlin said, drinking his wine.

After Irwyl left, Cale decided to move directly to business. "Lord Uskevren, your message asked for my hurried return to the city."

Tamlin set down his goblet and his face grew serious, as serious as Cale had ever seen it. "Kendrick Selkirk is dead. Mirabeta Selkirk has been elected temporary overmistress. Endren Corrinthal of Saerb is accused of murdering Kendrick, but our contacts in Ordulin are not certain of the truth of it. There was some kind of fight in the High Council and Endren was arrested. Zerin Terb was killed."

Vees shook his head. "A shocking, shocking state of affairs."

Cale knew Terb's name. He had been Selgaunt's representative in the High Council for over a decade. Tamlin continued. "In any event, the council has called a moot to elect a new overmaster. I am traveling to Ordulin-"

"My lord?" Cale asked, surprised. The hulorn had always appointed an agent to represent Selgaunt in the High Council or a moot, but never attended personally.

"I cannot tell what is happening there from here," Tamlin said. "Some of our informants there say that Endren's son is raising an army to depose Mirabeta. Others believe that Mirabeta arranged all of this. I need to see it personally before I ask the entire Old Chauncel to journey to the capital for the moot. Something is afoot and I need someone I can trust at my side. You. I want you as my wallman, Mister Cale. What do you say?"

Cale answered immediately. "Of course, but…"

"But?" Tamlin asked.

"My lord, Selgaunt is… in difficulties. How will it appear if you leave it? Who will govern?"

"We will not be away for long. Two tendays, perhaps three. Vees will speak for me, if needed, but the bureaucracy runs itself. The Old Chauncel will operate by consensus in my absence. In truth, that is another reason that I want to go alone, despite the call for the moot. If the entire Old Chauncel left the city at once, it would be… ill perceived. Once I have a handle on events in Ordulin, I will send for the key members of the Chauncel."

"A wise course, Hulorn," Vees said.

Cale was not so sure. Selgaunt felt ready to erupt. Tamlin had called him an advisor, so Cale decided to start advising. He took care to frame his speech appropriately. He had been removed from the niceties of station for some time. The words did not come as easily to him as they once did.

"My lord, may I make a recommendation or two? Actions that you might take before leaving the city?"

Vees snorted into his goblet. "The man is returned for a day and already has suggestions."

Cale stared at Vees. Vees took another sip of his wine and averted his gaze.

"You are my advisor," Tamlin said with a tip of his goblet.

Cale nodded. "The city is overcrowded. The people are hungry."

"There is food in the market," Vees said.

"Little, and it is priced so high that none but the rich can afford to eat," Cale said, trying and failing to keep the coolness out of his voice.

Vees made an uncaring gesture. "Unfortunate, but true. But this is Sembia, Mister Cale. The market is what the market is."

Cale barely resisted the impulse to punch the noble twit in the face. Despite his best efforts, shadows leaked from his skin. The room dimmed.

Tamlin noticed and looked alarmed. So did Vees but he looked more puzzled than afraid.

"I will explain later, my lord," Cale said softly, and with an effort of will, caused the light to return and the shadows to subside.

Tamlin nodded slowly, eyes wide. Vees took another sip of his wine and studied Cale over the rim.

Cale said, "My lord, if your answer is the same as that of Lord Talendar, you will soon have riots. Hunger makes people desperate." Cale thought of Skullport and said, "I have seen it before."

Vees harrumphed. "That is why the Helms are on the streets."

Cale ignored Talendar and addressed Tamlin. He decided to be candid. "If I am going to be of service to you, this all must end right now."

Tamlin looked confused. "I do not understand, Mister Cale."

Cale gestured at the parlor, at Vees, at Tamlin. "This. All of this. The polite speech. The discussions over wine. The clothes. The city is in a crisis, my lord. From what you have told me, all of Sembia is in crisis. We are not discussing a contract for trade. May I be fully candid or not?"

"There is no need for panic," Vees said.

"No, but there is need for hard thinking and bold action," Cale said. "And I never panic, Talendar."

A few streamers of shadows rose from Cale's flesh and dissipated in the air. If Vees thought to rebuke Cale for neglecting the nobleman's honorific, he thought better of it.

"I take your point," Tamlin said thoughtfully. "Let's hear him out, Vees. Mister Cale brings an outsider's perspective on things. Go on, Mister Cale."

Cale plowed forward, eyeing Vees as he spoke. "Get the Helms off the street. They make you look frightened."

Vees said, "The Helms are helping keep order. And are you accusing the Hulorn of being afraid?"

Cale surmised that putting the Helms on the streets had been Vees's idea. "There are not enough of them to stop a riot, if it happened. In the meanwhile, they contribute to the perception that matters are not in hand, that the nobility is frightened." He looked to Tamlin. "My lord, get them off the street. They are tense, and ill-suited to the work you have asked them to do. They drew steel on me outside Stormweather."

"Perhaps justifiably," Vees mumbled.

Cale whirled on him. "I promise you that if another comment like that comes out of your mouth, your teeth will follow it."

Vees flushed, stuck out his jaw, and uttered not a word. Cale turned back to Tamlin. "Put the Helms back on the roads and waterways, where they belong, where people are used to seeing them. Order them to escort refugees into the city."

Tamlin looked startled. "Into the city?"

"Out, I should think," Vees said cautiously. "We are already overcrowded."

Cale kept his voice calm. "They are coming anyway, unless you plan to lock down the city. You do not, do you?"

Tamlin raised his eyebrows. "We considered it."

Cale blew out a breath. "Lord Thamalon, you must stop taking steps that suggest desperation. The first thing the people need from you is the sense that you are in control, that things will soon return to normal. You can earn some goodwill by getting the steel off the streets and using it to ensure that your citizens are safe."