serve the Wolves who die of happy old age.
“I do not expect to be one of them. But I would prefer—vastly prefer—that the figurative blade that ends my life be wielded by outsiders.”
“Or me, Helmat?”
“Or you. That’s generally how we retire, isn’t it?” The Wolflord’s grin was sharp; his eyes were bright. Too bright for a mortal.
“I would be Wolflord in your stead—in all of your steads—had the Emperor ever allowed it.” It wasn’t an answer. But Helmat had been one of the most successful of Elluvian’s students. “You understand why he does not.”
Helmat did. He didn’t, at the moment, care.
“I do not understand your continuing anger.”
“The Barrani expect betrayal.”
“Indeed. Where we are not powerful enough, not knowledgeable enough, not cautious enough, we will be betrayed. It is not generally considered a personal slight. If it engenders anger, the anger is pointed inward. We gave our enemies the opening that they then exploited.”
“I have some of that anger as well.”
“Yes, but that anger does not drive you to put someone’s head on your desk as a paperweight, and I do not believe it will help in our recruitment. We are, as you have pointed out, dangerously short on functional operatives at the moment, and I believe this one—even in your current mood—is likely to meet with your approval.”
“Why?”
“Instinct.”
Helmat relaxed both his arms and his position. He did not speak. The same instinct had, of course, found Renzo. It had, as Helmat had implied, found every Wolf, every Wolflord, including those who had died by Elluvian’s hands. That he had found far more, in the past few decades, who did not break Imperial Law, was irrelevant to Helmat at the moment. One mistake, this new, was too many.
“Betrayal is only possible if you are unwise. I have told you this. Trust is folly.” When Helmat continued in silence, Elluvian exhaled. “There are Barrani who feel as you feel—and some have spent centuries planning their revenge. Some have even survived it. Betrayal is met with death, where death can possibly be achieved.
“But when they achieve that death—and clearly, you have already done so—it is done. It remains a dire lesson, a warning against foolishness, but it no longer engenders bitter rage. You were meant to die. You survived. Your enemy did not. It is unlikely that your enemy had supporters among your Wolves, or things would have played out in a different fashion.”
“I don’t understand why he did this,” Helmat said. He was now staring at the magically preserved head, as if by doing so, he could demand answers and receive them. “If I understood why and how, I would be better prepared should it happen again. Tell me, En, if I fall foul of the Emperor, will you kill me?”
“I would execute you, yes. And frankly, it would do far less damage to the Halls of Law, or at least this office, than Renzo’s attempt.”
Helmat’s laugh was bitter, dark, harsh—but there was genuine amusement in it. “Have any of your students survived?”
“I fail to understand the question. If you are asking me if I have failed to fulfill the Emperor’s commands, the answer should be obvious.”
“Oh?”
“I am standing before you with a patience that is decreasing by the syllable. You are my students. You are not my masters. I do not teach you everything I know; it would be, even if I desired to do so, impossible. You have scant decades in which you can fulfill Imperial mandate, and you would be old and doddering long before I had finished.”
“And if we were, like you, Immortal?”
“You would not be Wolves. The Emperor has made that clear, time and again. I find it frustrating,” he added. “But there is some method to his madness. If we are mistaken, we only have to deal with that mistake for a few decades. If you were Immortal?” He shook his head. “But you waste time.”
“You have all the time in the world.”
“I do, yes. The possible recruit, however, is mortal. And if I have time, my supply of patience is dwindling rapidly.”
“Tell me about your prodigy.”
Elluvian was annoyed and did not scruple to hide it. “I have not claimed the recruit as a prodigy; you are aware of my feelings on the subject of prodigies.”
Helmat chuckled; he was both aware of it and in agreement. “Is he another young thug?”
“By appearance, yes. But to me, they all are.”
“You might select among those who actually apply for the position.”
“Why do you insist on wasting both of