Burning Bright

I gave you my reasons in my report, my lord. Chauvelin suppressed that answer, and saw the faintest of rueful smiles cross the human woman’s otherwise impassive face. He said aloud, “My Lord, the other candidates are not safe. They either have no backing among the people who matter”— or among the people in general, but that’s not something a hsaia would understand—“or are too young and untried for me to suggest that HsaioiAn place any trust in them.”

“It is not expedient that we support Berengaria,” ja-Erh’aoa said flatly.

“Then, my lord, it is as though my report was never made.” Chauvelin sat back slightly, folded his hands in his lap.

“Unfortunately,” ja-Erh’aoa said, “your report has become common knowledge in the council halls. I have suffered some—diminishment—because of it. It is even being said, je-Chauvelin, that you are too close to the houtaon Burning Bright, and would perhaps benefit from a different posting.”

“Do you question my loyalties, lord?” Even as he said it, Chauvelin knew that was the wrong question, born from the sudden cold fear twisting his guts. It was too direct, put ja-Erh’aoa in a position where he could only answer yes—and he himself was too vulnerable to that accusation to risk angering his patron. No chaoi-mon, citizen by impressment, could risk that, particularly not when he was born on Burning Bright and served now as ambassador to that planet. He silenced those thoughts, kept himself still, hands quiet in his lap, face expressionlessly polite, with an effort that made the muscles along his spine and across his shoulders tremble slightly beneath the heavy coat. He made himself face ja-Erh’aoa guilelessly, as though no one had touched his one vulnerable spot, pretended he did not see the Remembrancer-Duke’s fingerclaws close over the troglodyths’ heads.

“No one questions your fealty, je-Chauvelin,” ja-Erh’aoa said, after a moment. “However, it is as well not to cause even the hint of a question.”

Bad, very bad, Chauvelin thought. He bowed again, accepting the rebuke, and said, “As my lord wishes.”

“I would also see to your household, je-Chauvelin,” ja-Erh’aoa said. “I am concerned that this report has traveled so far outside my knowledge, and yours.”

Chauvelin lifted an eyebrow at him, stung at last into retort. “My household is well known to me, save the guest I entertain at your command, my lord.”

There was another little silence, ja-Erh’aoa’s hands slowly tightening over the troglodyths’ heads, thumbclaws perilously close to their carved eyes, and Chauvelin braced himself to offer his humblest apologies. Then, quite slowly, ja-Erh’aoa’s hands loosened again, and he said, with apparent inconsequence, “How is your guest, Chauvelin?”

“The Visiting Speaker is enjoying the pleasures of the planet,” Chauvelin answered, conventionally. In point of fact, the Visiting Speaker Kuguee ji-Imbao aje Tsinraan, cousin of the Imperial Father, is spending most of his nights attending parties and most days sleeping off the effects of Oblivion. Even so, I may have underestimated him—or at least his household. He made a mental note to make a second investigation of the half-dozen attendants who had arrived with ji-Imbaoa.

“You will convey our greetings,” ja-Erh’aoa said, and Chauvelin bowed again.

“As my lord wishes.”

Ja-Erh’aoa nodded, pushed himself up out of the chair-of-state, at the same time gesturing to the woman behind him. She said, in her clear voice, “The audience is ended.”

Chauvelin bowed again, more deeply, hands on the floor, straightened slowly when the click of the room door was not followed by the static of a broken connection. Eriki Haas tzu Tsinraan, ja-Erh’aoa’s First Speaker, looked back at him without expression, came slowly forward to kneel on the carpeting in front of ja-Erh’aoa’s empty chair. Chauvelin lifted an eyebrow at her.

“What’s made this report so different from all the others? My lord knows what I think of Berengaria.” He used tradetalk, the informal creole that was the common language of human beings in HsaioiAn, and Haas’s severity melted into a rueful grin.

“What makes it different is exactly what he said: somebody leaked it before it could be edited for the council. And my lord’s right, you should check on how that happened.”

“I fully intend to,” Chauvelin said. “This is not the most opportune time to have a visitor.”