tabard of the Imperial Hawk. By her side, likewise attired, strode a man Elluvian had little cause to recognize; Tain of Korrin was not a Lord of the High Court.
* * *
He had been drawn to investigate An’Teela because he did not understand the game she now played. There had been little bad blood between Elluvian and An’Teela, but not none; it was impossible to be a member of the High Court without giving offense, however subtle, to someone. An’Teela could be extremely subtle. It was not, however, required.
He saw that she did not wield Kariannos in the city streets. She did not, in fact, carry a sword at all. The Barrani who served the Halls of Law had been given the wooden clubs that characterized the Hawks, and she carried that, along with the tabard. It was not a risk that Elluvian had expected her to take. He understood that Kariannos was not a weapon meant for keeping peace. It had one purpose.
In Barrani terms, she was newly come to the Hawks. In mortal terms, she was not. If her intrusion into the Halls of Law had caused political difficulty—and no doubt it had, for An’Teela—she was nonetheless here, and content, or so it appeared, to abide by the mortal hierarchy that the Eternal Emperor had created.
A game, he thought. Or perhaps she was simply bored. Boredom would carry the day for a time—perhaps a decade. Elluvian himself might have considered it novel to be a Hawk for a small time. He found it vexing to be a Wolf, but he had been part of the Halls of Law for far longer than boredom would otherwise justify.
Boredom, however, remained a problem, and to alleviate it, he often spied on An’Teela. The information—should any useful information arise—would be of value, and he might trade it for information he required in turn.
He had been unprepared for the sight of An’Teela with a mortal child.
The girl was younger than Mellianne had been when he had first caught sight of her and younger than Mellianne was now, but in some fashion, there was a spark of similarity between the two. He might have approached that child in a handful of years, might have offered her what he had offered Mellianne.
But the girl was clearly under An’Teela’s figurative wing, which Elluvian found fascinating in and of itself. While she remained ensconced there, Elluvian would not approach her. He would not dare.
Records in the Halls of Law existed for each Hawk, Sword, and Wolf. Access to the Records of the Wolves was restricted to the Wolves, specifically three of the Wolves. The Emperor, of course, had access to everything should he desire it; to Elluvian’s knowledge, that was never.
Access to the Hawks and the Swords consisted of access to the reports they had personally lodged, and the reports that referenced them. There were no logs for the child that accompanied An’Teela; no references to her in the Records reports that An’Teela had either made or had been referenced in. The sergeant in charge of the branch of Hawks she served, however, was notoriously slow at such logging. He would have a word with the Emperor about this dereliction of duty.
Though there was one thing of wonder about the child. An’Teela was taking interest in a mortal.
* * *
“Why are you interested in the Barrani Hawks? Worried that you won’t be special?” Helmat had asked, a half grin robbing the words of obvious challenge.
“No. It is a child’s desire to be special, and I have—unlike many of my kin—survived childhood and escaped it.”
“There are many men and women who would find that observation offensive.”
“There are many who find the weather offensive.”
Helmat uttered three words, and the mirror display—technically Elluvian’s mirror—showed the Wolflord the whole of Elluvian’s current research. His posture and tone changed. “That is not under the Wolves’ jurisdiction.”
“No. It wouldn’t be. The Wolves wouldn’t understand the significance.”
“En.”
Elluvian turned from the mirror toward the titular Lord of Wolves. Helmat stood his ground; no one else would have dared. “I was against the hiring of Barrani Hawks.”
Helmat nodded. “The decision was not yours to make. They’re not Wolves.”
Elluvian was surprised by the information he had unearthed: the girl had the marks of the Chosen. He better understood An’Teela’s almost shocking attachment.
The girl did not appear to understand the significance of those marks. The Emperor did. The Dragon Court did. And An’Teela had come to court to lay claim—of kinship, of friendship—to the child. As had several