Angus Wells - The God Wars 01 by Forbidden Magic (v1.1) Page A

honor that gave Calandryll no choice save to
be herded into the palace buildings.
                 He
was brought to a chamber and left to await the Domm, Bracht inspecting the room
with casual interest, as though the palaces of Lysse were as familiar as her
taverns. He turned, offering no obeisance, when Bylath entered, Tobias at his
side. The Domm's face was flushed with anger, growing a deeper red as he
studied his younger son and his unexpected companion. Tobias seemed amused.
                 Bylath
waved a hand, dismissing the guardsmen, and stared at
Bracht.            
,
                 "Who
in Dera's name is this?"
                 His
voice was tight with barely suppressed rage. Calandryll felt his head begin to
ache again and licked his lips, but before he could speak, the mercenary said,
"I am called Bracht. A warrior of the clan Asyth, of Cuan na'For. Your son
owes me ten varre."
                 "A
Kem mercenary?" Tobias spoke, contemptuous laughter in his voice. "Do
you consort with barbarian freeswords now, Calandryll?"
                 Bracht
stiffened, blue eyes fixed hard on Tobias's face. Calandryll thought he might
return some insult in reply and began to gabble, "He saved my life! They
were beating me and he stopped them. He gave me shelter and I promised him ten
varre."
                 "You
place small value on your life," Tobias said.
                 He
was about to add more, but Bylath raised a hand to silence him, glowering at
the Kem.
                 "This
is true?"
                 Bracht
nodded. Bylath clapped his hands and a door opened to admit a blank-faced
servant.
                 "Ten
varre," snapped the Domm. "Quickly!"
                 The
servant departed and the quartet stood in silence, only Bracht seeming at ease,
as if undaunted by the prestigious company. Calandryll shifted from foot to
foot, nervously probing his loosened tooth. The servant returned with a small
pouch; Bylath gestured in Bracht's direction and the coins changed hands.
                 "My
thanks," the Kem said, ducking his head in vague approximation of a bow.
                 "Thank
you for your service," Bylath grunted. "You may go."
                 Bracht
glanced at Calandryll, smiling. "Farewell, Calandryll."
                 "Farewell,"
he replied. "And thank you."
                 The
Kem nodded and followed the waiting servant to the door. Calandryll squared his
shoulders, awaiting the onslaught of his father's wrath.
                 It
was a short wait.
                 "You,"
Bylath said, spitting the words, each one a whiplash, "are the son of the
Domm of Secca. You have a position,- you are expected to set an example. You
have duties. Chief among those duties is obedience. Without obedience there is
nothing, only chaos. The observance of protocol is a part of that obedience.
But a part, it seems, that you choose to ignore. You were summoned to attend a
banquet of double importance. It was to celebrate our agreements with Aldarin,
and to honor your brother's betrothal. You chose to insult both our guests and
your own family!"
                 He
broke off, snorting as though outrage stilled his tongue. Beside him, Tobias
stood smugly, enjoying his brother's discomfort. Calandryll stood in silence,
trepidation and resentment mingled.
                 "You
insulted Nadama, who shall one day be Domme," Bylath continued. "You
insulted her family. Are you without any loyalty? Do you have no respect?"
                 He
paused, but when Calandryll offered no reply he went on, "You disappoint
me, boy. I've long given up any great expectations of you; Dera knows, you're
useless enough. You're no warrior and you show no interest in the affairs of
state, but—thank the Goddess!—I can rely on your brother in those matters.