Indris of a Dragon with its wings furled. It was an unfair comparison. Femensetri was a striking woman. Her ageless features and the startling opal-hued eyes were at once marred and enhanced by the mindstone on her brow: a lightless blemish, an absence, against the olive of her skin.
As he looked at her, Indris could sense rather than see the dark energy nimbus that crackled and spat around her. The Disentropic Stain proclaiming her a scholar to any who knew how to look.
Vashne gazed speculatively at those assembled. His disappointed gaze rested on Indris for a handful of heartbeats before it drifted away. After an almost uncomfortable silence, Vashne spoke.
“Everybody except the Näsarat, the Erebus, Ziaire of the House of Pearl, and the Speaker for the People can leave,” Vashne commanded. The other nobles looked to each other for a moment before they rose to their feet and filed from the room. Indris could hear their muttering echo down the corridors as they walked away.
Indris watched as the Näsarat and Erebus camps arranged themselves on opposite sides of the room. In between stood Rahn-Nazarafine of the Great House of Sûn, the Speaker for the People and the elected head of government for the Teshri, her eyes shining like polished brown nuts. Beside her was a poised woman, her features those poets waxed lyrical about. Unruly hair, dark as soot, sat piled atop an oval face with delicate, sculpted features. Her green eyes were vivid against burnished skin, itself striking against the layers of her fitted pearlescent robe. She looked across at Indris and Shar, her gaze measuring.
Vashne’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he glared about the room. “Ariskander? You’ve found who we were looking for?”
Ariskander nodded. “The ones who were still alive. I’ve brought you the prisoners you requested. Pah-Näsarat fa Amonindris, blood royal of the Great House of Näsarat. Former Knight-General of the Sēq Order of Scholars and once the commander of the Immortal Companions nahdi company. The other is Shar-fer-rayn, a war-chanter and last of the Rayn-ma troupe.”
Vashne nodded his thanks as he stopped in front of Indris. “We know each other, you and I.” He looked at the raised blisters on Indris’s wrists, where the manacles restrained him. Vashne’s expression was sorrowful. “We do not need these, do we?”
“Vashne—” Corajidin said.
“Speaker for the People? Arbiter of the Change?” Vashne looked to Nazarafine and Ariskander. “Do you have any objections to releasing this man?”
“You cannot be serious!” Corajidin snapped.
“None at all, Asrahn.” Nazarafine’s smile did not reach her eyes as she assessed Corajidin. “I speak for both Ariskander and myself when I say we’re glad we’ve had the chance to save some of the prisoners to whom you’d offered amnesty.”
The Stormbringer strode forward in a snap of leather and old wool. She took a master key from within the folds of her cassock, then unlocked Indris’s shackles. The salt-forged steel clattered to the ground. The Scholar Marshal kicked them across the room.
Indris restrained his sigh of relief. The pain receded almost immediately. Within moments he could feel the effects of the salt leave his system. He leveled his gaze at the Asrahn, who no doubt knew the risks involved in releasing him. Indris bowed his thanks.
“Indris.” Vashne looked at Indris, though he spoke to the rest of the room. “A man who has been a hero of our people and a savior for others.”
“Asrahn.” Corajidin bowed his head to the floor. “This man—”
“Has done much in our service.”
“Even so, he’s a traitor, in service to a traitor! We need to—”
“His weapons and other belongings will be returned to him.” The Asrahn looked hard into Indris’s eyes. “And to his comrade here. Gratitude is a powerful currency. It is worth more than its weight in gold or gems. Would you agree?”
“Thank you.” Indris felt his stomach knot.
“I trust my generosity is not misplaced. I expect it will be remembered, should I need to call on you.” With that, he turned away.
Indris allowed himself to take a deep breath. The prospect of death or imprisonment slowly unclenched its fist.
“What have you gotten us into now?” Shar murmured.
“Me?”
“You.”
Vashne walked back to the center of the room, Femensetri in his shadow. He glared at Corajidin. “What in the name of the blessed Ancestors were you thinking? This was supposed to be resolved peacefully. With as little bloodshed as possible! Do your prejudices blind you so much?”
Corajidin cocked a disdainful eyebrow. Indris noted the sheen of sweat on the other man’s waxy skin.