Chapter 107: The Thunder of Mighty Wings

Chapter 107: The Thunder of Mighty Wings

The cousins were too mad to even swear. Their faces were rigid masks, hands clenched, taking deep, snorting breaths through their nose.

“In case you haven’t figured it out, panoufe is a kind of traditional alcoholic drink. Pretty much only drunk on formal social occasions in the University or by graduates feeling nostalgic.” Jember grounded out. Etenesh refused to look at anyone. Her shoulders shook now and then.

“Tiffen? Temusht?”

“Tefen and Te’mushd are basically... not of the faith and the people, and someone who should belong to the faith and the people but prefers outsiders, respectively. Apostate, do you know that word? Apostate is probably the closest. An offense punishable by death, traditionally.” Jember struggled to speak, anger choking him.

“Alemu?”

“Third son of Duke Red Valley, a status that hasn’t been relevant in centuries. A fact that clearly stings. We know him, of course. Department’s not that big. Pure Lander, but so what? So’s most of the department. Didn’t think he... had gone that hard.” Jember’s voice was becoming even more clipped.

“Sounded like he was interested in Etenesh?” The flatness in Truth’s voice would have startled him if he wasn’t too angry to catch it. Etenesh sure heard it, though.

“That pin-dick wishes I’d give him the time of day!” She snapped.

“Remember what I said about how word gets around? He’s been enjoying a years-long dry spell. At least in our department. Can’t say about off-campus.” Jember explained quickly. Truth just nodded at that. Some little part of him felt relieved. It was stupid. Just because Etenesh was interested in him now didn’t change who she might have been with in the past. But he would have thought less of her. She could do better than an Alemu. And she was his now.

That thought hit him with a jolt, almost enough to snap him out of the swirls of rage and humiliation. That possessive impulse. She, Etenesh, was his now. No one else’s. His. He could feel the sick warmth of the thought, warming and worming and twisting through his chest and guts. His. Etenesh was his. No one else had the right to touch her. His.

He gasped, grabbing his arms and holding on tight. This was... not smart. He knew these thoughts weren’t smart. How many screaming fights had he heard through the walls? How many of his protectees did he have to stop from getting battered because of this kind of thinking? How many times did he have to look away when they did the battering? But he didn’t know how to break out of it.

“Jember,” Etenesh looked over her shoulder at her cousin, eyes blazing ocher. “Tell Lady Deonne that I am ready for my initiation.”

“That’s wonderful news, but is now really the time?” Jember snarled.

“Yes. It is. Because I’ve chosen my sacrifice.” She turned her blazing eyes on Truth. “Would you do me a little favor, Mr. Wells?”

“Probably.” She smiled at that.

“I’m going to guide your hands.” She slowly reached out, only taking them when he offered them to her. Softly, she brought them up- one to the side of her neck. She rested her cheek on the other. She was shivering. Anger, perhaps? Fear?

“Did you know, Mr. Wells, that I watch you a lot?”

He did but didn’t know if telling her was the right answer.

“Silly question, of course you do. Every day, I see you expect violence. You expect to get hit all the time. So you are ready to dodge and hit them first. You are the blade, cutting away the pain of your life. Just like you said. I believe you. Violence is how you understand the world. Everything is some form of violence. And I have watched you try to learn something else. Try to be something else.”

She opened her eyes, soft brown eyes with sclera the color of autumn on the mountains. “It has been beautiful to watch. It is... holy”

“My mistake. Although, if you did have such an intention, you might have to join the queue. Right now, the entire Congress has been derailed by a motion to summarily expel Alemu, and Castigate his mentor, Teacher Ferrenet. Word has gotten around, and our Desrin faculty and students are howling for blood. Literally, in the case of Wise Vchelk. It has blown up to the point where I am fairly sure this was a deliberate, planned provocation.”

“Someone trying to derail the conference?”

“Nothing so simple. With one move, the instigator had divided the University, sowed distrust amongst the Faculty, and created an atmosphere of fear amongst the students. Some of the faculty here are the very best in the world in their specialties, Mr. Wells. This one move might well decide a war. Of course, it would have been far better for them if you had killed the little idiot. Might have started a sectarian riot.”

Ah. Yes. Now that he said it, that did seem like a logical consequence of hacking off Alemu’s head and using it to smash every glass of panoufe in the room before chopping it open, hollowing out the already largely empty brain pan and using it as a chamber pot.

“So yes, Mr. Wells, full credit to Etenesh, with better than passing marks for Jember. Both displayed remarkably good sense. Despite some vile provocation.” Truth swore the lights got a little dimmer at that. “I took it as a personal provocation. Which it absolutely was. So I am being demonstrably, publicly, mad while keeping a cool head and trying to spot the instigators.”

“You don’t feel like putting down the disguise with us, Teacher?” Etenesh asked.

“What disguise? I’ve got a list of assholes I’ve waited DECADES to settle scores with, and given half a chance, today will be that day!” Merkovah bellowed. “These quarter-wit cuckolds think the solution to the present national emergency is a civil war. Well, I’m happy to start that war right now with them!”

“Speaking of settling scores,” Etenesh said softly, “Before Alemu runs back to Red Valley, I want to send him a meal.”

Merkovah looked like he would swear, then reconsidered. “You mean-”

“Yes. I have decided to become an Initiate to the Treasury of Light. And I think Alemu would make a perfect sacrifice.”

“He was raised in an aristocratic household. Alemu’s an ass, but he strikes me as the sort who would have enjoyed training for duels.” Mercovah cautioned.

“He bragged about it. But we are both Level Three’s, so he can accept the duel or be posted as a coward.” The hardness was back in her smile, as was the coldness in her eyes. “I am fairly sure that if I don’t kill him literally, Jember will kill him socially.”

“Most definitely,” Jember agreed.

Truth raised his hand, the one not holding Etenesh. “Sorry, you are dueling Alemu, the duel invitation being some kind of food? Are you allowed to send a champion or something?”

The locals looked at him oddly. “It would kind of defeat the purpose of a duel if you could,” Merkovah explained.

“Not to mention the moral satisfaction. Oh, you wanted to do it yourself?” Etenesh asked.

“Yes, and make sure he couldn’t slip in a ringer.”

“He can’t. His second could try to negotiate a peaceful resolution, but under the circumstances, that would be impossible.” Her smile widened, growing cruel. “Freshwater fish are considered an unclean animal amongst the Orthodox, as are some varieties of saltwater fish. I think a single anchovy would accurately express my feelings.”

Merkovah smiled approvingly. “I will arrange the fish. And the paper.”

Truth nodded quietly at all this. He had no idea how this all worked. He’d just have to trust that they did. And sharpen his edge in case of any accidents.