Chapter Seven
“Greetings, My Lord Feyreisen, Lady Marissya, Lord Dax.” Welcome shining in his green Fey-bright eyes, Great Lord Devron Teleos held out an arm and exchanged a warrior’s handclasp with Rain and Dax as the Fey entered the spacious entry hall of his city residence shortly after sunset.
The Celierian was paler than his pure mortal countrymen and darker than his Fey kin, his skin a golden ivory that glowed with Fey luminescence, his shoulder-length hair black as a raven’s wing.
Rain murmured a greeting as he took quick stock of his surroundings.
In a few swift glances, he noted the location of every entrance and exit, and the vast array of Fey, Elvish, Celierian, and Danae weaponry on the walls.
His gaze caught on one particular display: a full complement of Fey steel, gleaming with a mirror-bright polish no passage of time would ever dim.
“Ah, I thought you might find those of interest,” Teleos said, nodding at the weapons. “They were Shanis’s blades.”
“I recognized them.” Rain had spent many a year fighting beside his old friend, watching him wield those blades with deadly efficiency.
Etched with the symbols of the mighty v’En Celay line, the legendary Fey Lord Shannisorran v’En Celay himself had commissioned the steel as a warrior’s gift to his namesake, Shanis Teleos, a descendant of his brother’s line.
“I am surprised to find them hanging on a wall in Celieria City. Fey steel was meant for war, not decoration.”
Teleos smiled, unoffended. “My father always considered Shanis’s steel too valuable a family treasure to risk. He never used them, and a hundred years ago, when the Eld raids along the borders were getting worse, he had them moved here, to keep them safe.”
Conscious of the eyes and ears around them, Rain met Teleos’s gaze and said on a thread of Spirit, ?When you come to train at the Warrior’s Academy in Dharsa, bring them. Shanis’s blades deserve the honor of battle.?
Teleos bowed slightly and swept out an arm.
“Please, come, all of you. Most of the others are already here.” The Great Lord led the way into a large adjoining parlor where some two dozen of the nobles Rain had met the night before were waiting.
“My Lord Feyreisen, these are some of my oldest friends and most trusted colleagues in the Council, families with whom the House Teleos shares a long history.” Teleos gave a faint smile, green eyes bright with some secret satisfaction.
“It is my pleasure to introduce you again to Great Lord Verakis and his wife, Lady Ceiliana. Great Lord Nin and his lovely new bride, Lady Aleen. Great Lord Darramon and his wife, Lady Basha, Lord and Lady Fann, Lord and Lady Barlo.”
As Teleos led Rain around the room, introducing him to each of his guests, Rain began to understand the reason for that satisfaction in Teleos’s gaze, and his appreciation for his new friend grew exponentially.
He’d underestimated the man, thinking his Fey appearance would make the other nobles less likely to trust him.
Instead, it was plain the Teleos family had carefully built and maintained a powerful network of allies within their homeland.
This small gathering of lords represented some of the most strategic estates in Celieria as well as half a dozen industries of key military importance: Great Lord Darramon, the fifth most powerful lord guarding the Eld border; Lord Fann, famous for his Swan’s Bay shipyards; Lord Nin, a celebrated naval hero, whose mighty Queen’s Point fortress guarded the mouth of Great Bay; Lord Clovis, a captain of industry, whose coal- and iron-rich lands supplied more than half of all Celieria’s steel and iron; Great Lord Ash, a southern border lord whose handcrafted bows and superior bowmen rivaled even Elvish perfection.
Teleos and his wise ancestors had established long-standing ties with all the powers necessary to build and equip an army for the defense of Celieria.
?An impressive network of friends,? Rain commented. ?Shanis would be proud.?
Teleos smiled. ?It was his idea. When the Faering Mists went up, he said one day Rain Tairen Soul would return and that when he did, House Teleos should be prepared to aid him.?
?Shanis arranged this?? Rain’s gaze swept the room again at the network of Teleos’s allies, and he realized he was looking at a gift from a long-dead friend.
Teleos met Rain’s gaze, his Fey eyes steady. ?Tairen defend the pride.?
The familiar Fey maxim had been Shanis’s favorite.
Sudden emotion surged, and a muscle worked in Rain’s jaw.
?They do indeed, my brother.? He took a deep breath and donned the familiar mask of stoic Fey calm as he turned to meet the guarded, suspicious gaze of the nobleman standing nearby.
“Lord Darramon, a pleasure to meet you again.”
The Great Lord arched a dark brow. “Is it?” The man’s gray eyes grew flinty.
“I’m here purely as a favor to Teleos. If not for our long-standing friendship, I wouldn’t have come.
The Lords of Celieria are not toys for your amusement, My Lord Feyreisen.
Either you honor our right to free will, or the Eld won’t be your only enemies on this continent. ”
Rain bowed. “I apologize for what happened last night, Lord Darramon. I can assure you it was a complete accident.” He kept his gaze focused on Darramon, though he could feel the scrutiny of the other lords and ladies and knew they were listening intently to the exchange.
“When a Fey discovers his truemate, as I have done, his emotions—and his magic—are not as settled as they usually are. It is a hard thing for a Fey to admit his discipline is not as strong as it should be, but there you have it.”
Darramon gave a short laugh. “So you apologize and expect all to be forgiven?”
“Not at all,” Rain replied soberly. “I accept full responsibility for what happened, and I will accept any consequences of that responsibility. But do not, my lord, accuse me of intentionally spinning that weave to control Celierian minds. Using magic to usurp another being’s free will is an Eld tactic, not a Fey one, and that’s exactly the sort of abuse of power I’m here to caution you all against.”
Darramon’s wife, a frail beauty with brilliant blue eyes and dark russet hair, put a hand on her husband’s arm.
The Great Lord’s eyes flickered towards her for a moment, and then he gave a curt nod. “I will hear what you have to say, My Lord Feyreisen. But what was done was done to my wife as well as me, and that trespass I find much harder to forgive. She has not been in the best of health.”
Instantly solicitous, Rain turned to Lady Darramon with sincere concern. “My lady, if you will permit, Lady Marissya would be honored to be of service to you. There are no better healers among the Fey. Teska, please. It is the least we can offer.”
Marissya stepped forward, scarlet silks rustling. “Indeed, my lady. If Lord Teleos would offer us a private chamber, I will attend you immediately.”
“Of course,” Teleos said. He gestured to a nearby manservant. “Marton, please show the ladies to my mother’s suite.”
“Basha—” Lord Darramon began.
“No. It’s all right,” Lady Darramon told him. “I have never doubted the Lady Marissya’s goodwill, and I won’t start now.” The Great Lord’s wife gave Marissya a wan smile. “I would appreciate whatever aid you can provide, my lady.”
Darramon watched his wife go with a troubled frown, but his expression hardened when he looked back at Rain. “Don’t think this will make me listen with a more favorable ear.”
“My lord, I would not dream of it.” Rain gave a final, precise bow. “An open mind is all I ask for.”
Lord Darramon wasn’t the only guest who responded coolly to Rain’s overtures, but to his surprise, numerous couples welcomed him with warmth.
That baffled him at first, but as the evening progressed and Rain watched those same couples exchanging long glances and subtle touches and smiles before dinner, he began to understand.
He glanced at Dax and saw the same amused realization in the Fey lord’s eyes.
?Perhaps we’re going about this the wrong way,? Rain suggested.
Despite the earlier tension with Lord Darramon, a thread of laughter tinged his weave.
?Maybe Rowan was right and we should be approaching all the elderly lords who might swap a vote in exchange for a bit more . . . rejuvenation.?
Dax choked on his pinalle.
Swallowing a grin, Rain plucked a bite-sized morsel of roast quail in pastry from a passing tray and popped it in his mouth. If nothing else came of tonight’s dinner, at least he could give Ellysetta the relief of knowing that not all Celieria’s lords had found her weave an unwelcome enchantment.
Marissya and Basha Darramon returned before the guests were called to dinner. Darramon’s wife, while still frail, had much better color, and she walked with a surer step.
?A malignancy,? Marissya informed Rain and Dax as the guests followed Teleos into the dining room.
?She will require far more than a few brief chimes of healing.
I soothed her fatigue and did what I could to help her body fight the advance of her disease, but unless she comes to the Fading Lands or half a dozen of our strongest healers go to her, she will be dead this time next year. ?
?Well,? Dax said. ?Cruel as it sounds, if we want his vote, that seems one sure way to get it.?
The shei’dalin’s spine stiffened. ?Shei’tan, I know you cannot be suggesting we bribe him with his wife’s life.?
?Marissya, you accepted long ago that you can’t heal every dying mortal.
We’re in a fight for our lives. If the promise of healing Lady Darramon helps secure Lord Darramon’s vote, we would be fools not to consider it.
Besides, if the Eld gain free access to Celieria, she’s dead already—or worse, used as a tool to force her husband to comply with the Mages. ?