Page 46 of Court of Talons
My jaw sets as anger and suspicion knife through me, but either way, Caleb is right. Dining with Fortiss is the highest honor I can have this night, and I should make the most of it. Never mind that my hands are shaking, and my mouth is dry.
“Well met,” I say, gesturing to Nazar and Caleb. “We prefer to travel light.”
A man sitting next to Fortiss, dressed in the gold and black of the First House, snorts a laugh. “Light enough to be missing an arm is light indeed.”
This newest, well-thrown barb would have felled a lesser man or caused awkwardness in a lesser group. But Caleb knows his role here as well—and he can act even better than I can. He grins and rests his right elbow on the table as we seat ourselves. “I never knew how lazy I was until I was forced to use one hand to do the work of two. Trust me on this—one-handed is harder.”
His rejoinder merits a laugh, and the moment passes. The servants flood the hall to bring in the first course, and we bump and shove until we’re all seated—leaving me directly opposite Fortiss.
I watch him turn to greet another man and fix my gaze on his profile. There’s no way he was the one who shot the arrow at Merritt, I decide. He couldn’t have, surely. Not and be so easy with me, sonoble. He can’t be acting that well.
But…had he ordered my brother’s murder?
Even as I think the accusation, everything within me argues against it. The First House has so much strength—why would they be behind the murder of any house’s warrior son? It has to be a lesser house. Plus, Fortiss is too relaxed with me, too open. There’s no way he would be, if he’d sent one of his soldiers to assassinate me.
I don’t want Fortiss to be involved, if I’m honest with myself. And not because he’s so handsome. I just…I want Merritt’s murderer to be a seasoned warrior, not someone my own age. I want him to have the cool self-possession of a killer, not the laughing, gamboling manner of a knight. And I don’t want him to be so…alive, I decide. So confident. So?—
As Fortiss turns back to me and catches my eye, I hunch my shoulders and focus on my food, so he can’t see the flare of embarrassment that rides up my neck.
It’s easy to stay distracted with a meal such as this. The feast the First House has prepared for us makes the finest banquet ever hosted by the Tenth House look like the meanest leftovers. I’ve never even seen some of the dishes we are served, savory meat pies and dripping sweetbreads laden with thick syrup. Whole pigs roasted and spitted for each table, mounded over with candied fruits and roasted vegetables. An entire herd of fatted calves must have been killed for this meal, and from the looks and sounds of those around me, they weren’t slaughteredin vain. The chamber is filled with mostly men, and they fall upon the meal as if they haven’t eaten in days—some of them, possibly, haven’t.
The men of the Eighth House have traveled over the great plains of the west to reach us, and the soldiers from the Third and Ninth look as if they might never scrub the dust of their sandy home from their faces. The revelry of these warriors is unforced but also tinged with desperation, and I wonder at that. The Tenth is a small House at the far edge of the Protectorate, cut off from allies. Marauders are an issue for us, certainly, bandits and brigands pouring in from the Exalted Imperium.
But are there worse threats that my fellow houses face?
Is their fear so great that they would turn against another, smaller house to gain some kind of advantage?
If so, then why the Tenth? We’re not the smallest house, but we’re certainly one of the farthest away. Beyond our position on the very border of the Exalted Imperium, we offer no threat or appreciable benefit. So, why…
The questions chase their own tails in my mind, making me dizzy.
“Merritt.” Nazar’s voice is quiet, but it instantly recalls me, and I fix a bright smile on my face as I glance at him. He’s eating sparingly, but he is eating, playing his own role to perfection. Priests of the Light aren’t kept separate from the masses, but they are expected to maintain their sense of decorum at all times. I suspect Nazar has never suffered from a lack of decorum in his life.
To my right, Caleb chatters on, and with each new round of laughter, my stomach knots anew. My new squire won’t hurt me, I remind myself. Not on purpose, anyway. And yet…
“How was the journey over the Eastern Mountains?”
The question comes so quickly, so fluidly, it feels like an attack. My pulse leaps, and I turn sharply to Fortiss, the heatcoming to my face well-earned, for all that my words are too quickly blurted out.
“You of all people know it was not a smooth one,” I reply coldly. “The attack on the Tenth was an abomination. It will be avenged.”
My intensity surprises everyone, even me. I don’t look at Nazar but sense his careful gaze. Fortiss, however, commands my complete attention—and that of all the men around us.
“I, of all people…?” he asks, letting the question linger.
I let it hang there too. For no other reason than I have absolutely no idea what to say to walk back my accusation.What was I thinking? Why can’t I hold my tongue?
Fortunately, Fortiss assumes my continued silence is embarrassment. His eyes flash with earnest comradery.
“Lord Merritt, if the Tenth House has been wronged, then we will do all we can to strike down who is responsible,” he declares. “You have my bond.”
Seeing my chance, I nod quickly, praying I can end this conversation that I’ve so rashly blundered into. “As you say, Lord Fortiss,” I reply with credible force.
“As Idosay,” Fortiss insists. “House protects house. And the First House protects all.”
A low, resounding tide of agreement rises around us. Flagons are lifted, toasts given to the First House. Through it all, Fortiss eyes me intently, as if trying to convince me of what he says. Once again, I feel my heart quickening to hear his words, wanting so much to believe them.
Fool.