Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
T he Talius family rarely came together for a meal. Their schedules varied so much that they ate when they could, which was invariably alone.
Regardless, Leander had a proclivity to enjoy certain activities that were typically reserved for the darker hours of the day, right when dinner was being served.
Each argument with his father (of which there were many) only seemed to help Leander find more and more creative excuses as to why leaving the house and performing any duty, noble or otherwise, was as essential to him as the air he breathed.
Evening meals spent in his father’s company were not a priority for Leander.
Tonight was different, however. It was not planned, and they had not been summoned.
It just so happened that, at the eighth hour after the sun had reached its apex in the sky, Flavian Talius and his three sons were all in the premises together, just as the slaves were serving dinner.
Siri and Faye were absent, but Verin’s wife and children were present as always.
They congregated in the large dining room, Flavian at the head of the table as usual, his twin sons taking a seat on either side of him, and the rest of the family filling other seats further down the table.
Leander was not looking forward to the meal.
When Verin and Flavian were together, the conversation amounted to political scheming, which wasn’t something Leander particularly wanted to listen to.
If not politics, it was a good opportunity for Flavian to find fault in one of his sons (usually Leander) and verbally flay him.
He wasn’t fast enough with his excuses though, and he found himself obliged to stay for the meal.
“The Chairman of the hospital board cornered me in the market the other day, Leander.” Flavian had been talking to Verin all through the first course and only deigned to acknowledge Leander halfway through the main dish.
“He said it was a delight to show you the hospital. You made quite the impression.”
That sounded almost like a compliment. Leander felt his cheeks flush with unchecked pleasure. Despite mostly despising the man, evidently he still sought his approval.
Leander cleared his throat. “It was a good day. They are very grateful for the donation from this family, as well as your efforts at court to secure a policy of free healthcare for all.” He had been practicing for the eventual debrief of his visit to the hospital.
His words were genuine but dispassionate—Gods forbid he appear too interested; his father would never allow him to return if he thought he actually enjoyed it.
“They said it was just the sort of progressive change that Saeren, and indeed beyond into the rest of Vyrica, needed. They were all very excited.”
Flavian merely nodded, having already returned to his meal.
Verin, however, was more interested and had his own questions. “Do they foresee more patients seeking help for minor ailments, or even unnecessary procedures?”
Swallowing his mouthful, Leander shook his head.
“No, they plan to use the donation to fund several… what did they call them? Ah, triage nurses in the community and at the hospital. Their role will be to ascertain if an injury or illness can be treated at home or if further medical intervention is needed.”
“Ah, that sounds like they have really thought it through. And this is just limited to the city of Saeren, or will it expand to the rest of Vyrica?”
“For now, yes, just Saeren. But the chairman has ambitions to talk to the relevant people about expansion to the rest of the country. When he has the data to confirm the success of the policy, of course.”
Verin smiled. “Let’s drink to the success of the policy then, and Saeren’s progressive healthcare.”
Before Leander could speak again, Flavian had already turned his attention, to Venser. “This is the first I have seen of you in over a month. I am the king’s chief advisor so I know we are not yet at war. What keeps you away from us?”
“We have just had a new intake of recruits, Father. The cadets require a lot of work and, for lack of a better word, babysitting,” Venser replied as he sighed and scratched at his eye as if he could rub away the exhaustion.
“It has been a lot of long days and, although I trust my training staff, it is hard to get away, even for a short time.”
Flavian hummed in response as he tapped the base of his glass with his index finger. “Forgive my ignorance, Venser, but I was under the impression that babysitting cadets is below the station of a Commander in Vyrica’s army.”
“A Commander with the specific duties to oversee the training of new recruits.”
When Flavian spoke, it was calm, controlled but slow, as if he was measuring each word as he said them, “I supported your commission into Vyrica’s military under the proviso that you were given a command position befitting your station in due course. Is this the best we can expect for you?”
“I hold one of the highest ranks in the military already, Father. I am one of the most respected and decorated officers serving.” Venser bit out his words as he clenched his knife and fork, meal forgotten.
“You have never approved of my decision to commission into the military, but I am proud of what I do. Even if it isn’t politics. ”
Flavian made no attempt to reply, instead he regarded his middle child in much the same way Leander imagined one might look at a pinned butterfly before methodically ripping the wings off one by one.
Surreptitiously, Leander looked over at Verin, seated across the table. His eldest brother didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable, still gnawing on his pork like nothing was amiss.
Catching Leander’s stare, however, he took the hint and spoke up. “Venser, have you continued to have difficulties outfitting your new recruits?”
Venser turned from their father to look at his twin.
“We have managed to kit out the current intake of cadets, but I already foresee difficulties in the procurement of equipment for the next intake. It seems my officers cannot source what we need fast enough. We have had to go to his competitors to find enough. Yet we still have the same attrition rates as we always did.”
“I thought retention numbers were fairly good through training and subsequent careers?”
“They are but they’re not perfect. I suppose what I mean is that there is a sudden influx of people enlisting. Especially with the most recent wyvern attack. People want to defend their homes.”
“Which is not surprising, also given tensions with Desanne at the moment.”
Venser nodded sombrely. “The General is keen to avoid the requirement for conscription. I imagine he will approach you, Father”—he glanced in the Talius patriarch’s direction—“soon, to discuss options.”
“Thank you for the forewarning. We will decide and agree upon an appropriate course of action.” Verin glanced to where Flavian sat. “Won’t we, Father?”
Flavian nodded absently. “Circling back for a moment, are the wyvern attacks common knowledge across the city?”
“It’s hard to keep something like this a secret,” said Verin. He took a sip of his wine and continued to speak, after checking in with his brother, who nodded. “There’s talk of it across the city. People are scared, because they are becoming more frequent.”
There was no further comment from Venser, and their father seemed quite satisfied with the topic of conversation terminating at that point so no more was said.
“Why is the wyvern hurting people, Papa?” Everly asked when there was a lull in the conversation.
“I don’t know, darling.”
“Will it… will it come for us?” There was a tremor in Everly’s voice that broke Leander’s heart.
Verin smiled reassuringly at his youngest. “Of course not, we are very safe here.”
The lie—because there was no way of Verin knowing the truth of his statement—that spouted from Verin’s lips was accepted by Everly, who returned to her meal.
Leander, however, was not satisfied. He didn’t want to get involved at all, but everyone knew what they said about curiosity and cats. “Why have we not been called out again?” he asked, louder than he intended. “There must be people suffering surely?”
“There are local Aesthesics who can handle it, Leo.” Verin said gently.
“But what about what we found in Green Tryst? A bunch of villagers who were too tight lipped about the cause of the wyvern’s attack.
What if there is more to it than what we were able to discover?
These are not random attacks if they are happening more frequently.
Someone somewhere isn’t telling you the truth about these attacks. You need to find out who the liar is.”
“Wouldn’t it be lovely if we had someone close at hand who could sniff out lies?” Flavian said derisively as he sipped at his wine.
Leander scowled and slumped back in his seat.
“We’re on it, Leo. We will solve this mystery without divine intervention as we always have. Aesthesia is fallible but it has served us well in the past,” Venser assured him with a hint of a smile.
“Well, if I can be of any assistance, just let me know. I may not have divinity on my side, but I have lived and breathed lies for as long as I can remember, I might be able to help,” Leander announced, wanting to be useful.
“Leander Talius, actually wanting to help us mere mortals? If I didn’t hear it with my own two ears…”
Leander didn’t even spare his father a glance.
“Actually, I could do with some help, Leo. Prince Jarryn has his birthday approaching?—”
Flavian scoffed.
Verin glanced his way but then continued to speak as if there had been no interruption. “—and I understand you know him well.”
“I wouldn’t say that. We meet at functions… and in the odd bar. But we are hardly close.”
“All the same, he is a stranger at court and has few friends. I could do with some help in planning the celebrations.”
Leander shrugged his agreement. He started to imagine the look of delighted surprise on the prince’s face, and to think that he could be the direct cause of that gave him a thrill of excitement.
“Good, that’s settled then,” Verin said with a knowing smile. Nothing got past him, and Leander knew no one was riffling through his mind at that moment. The Talius scion was just incredibly perceptive.
“I assume the king is expected to pay for this?” Flavian asked.
Verin nodded. “It was his idea. The prince is his guest and truth be told I think the king is growing tired of all Nevari’s posturing and threats. He wants to make clear to everyone, including Nevari, who he supports in the true succession to Desanne’s throne.”
Their father nodded his understanding and agreement.
He glanced over at Leander with a significant expression, as if reminding him whose fault it was.
“Let us hope Jarryn has a party worthy of a king, even if he is not one yet. I’m sure a lavish party for an exiled prince will have the masses forget about a looming war threatened by said prince’s brother. ”
Leander’s gaze fell to his empty plate. Would that it was as simple as telling everyone what he had done. That would not undo it, his lie had been too big, too well done for it to unravel with a claim of his own guilt.