Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,16
a year? He seemed barely able to control his powers tonight.
”It’s to be expected,” I said, more dryly than I’d intended to. “Threats or rewards are the way you move the world.” Even with gods – the only thing that changed were that the stakes, desires or fears had nothing in common with mortals. “When was the last time they came?”
The veteran thought for a while. “Three, four days ago. They might have come while we weren’t on guard, though.”
Odd. Why had they ceased coming? Had they got what they wanted?
”How long ago did Ocome shift his allegiance?” I asked Teomitl.
He made a dismissive gesture. “More than ten days ago, Acatl-tzin. That’s not it.”
It didn’t quite make sense. Was there yet another faction, or had one of the visitors decided to send others to intimidate instead of coming in person?
Teomitl nodded to the veteran. “Thank you,” he said. He looked at both of them, his eyes narrowing. “Which doesn’t excuse the fault.”
”My lord–” the burly guard started, but the veteran shushed him.
”I’ll take it into consideration,” Teomitl said. “In the meantime, you’d better think on what you’ve done.”
He waited until we were out of earshot to speak. “Gods, what fools.”
I didn’t know why I felt moved to defend them. “You don’t know what she offered them.”
”I can guess.” His face was still as harsh as carved jade. “Gold, feathers, silver. They’re no better than Ocome, they’d rather trample their faces and hearts than be destitute.”
”Many men would,” I said, at last. As High Priest for the Dead, I oversaw inquiries into all kinds of suspicious deaths; and I knew all too well the depths to which the human soul could sink. “Not everyone has your fortitude.” Or his fortune, indeed.
“That’s no excuse,” Teomitl said, a trifle abruptly.
I had seldom seen him like that; it was in moments like these that I felt much younger than him, less hardened to life at Court. I knew that his tutors at the palace had taken him back in hand since last year, but it was as if his brother’s death had cracked open a shell, revealing a pearl stuck inside, so luminous and warm that it would burn whoever touched it.
”Well, I hope it’s not Xahuia,” I said, as we walked out. It was evening, and the palace bustle was slowing down; the braziers’ red light shone in the rising gloom. Time to find some dinner, and then head home. It had been a short day which had started late, because of the sleeplessness last night.
”Why?” He looked puzzled. “That would finish the investigation quickly.”
”And launch us into a war with Texcoco.” The Revered Speaker of Texcoco, Nezahual-tzin, had acceded his throne when young with the support of Tenochtitlan. At sixteen, he remained a beleaguered young man eager to prove himself to his detractors. If we executed his sister, he would at the very least want compensation for her death, if not use the pretext to unify his people against us.
”We’d win the war in any case,” Teomitl said. He sounded smug. “We have twice their strength, and the better men.”
”I don’t think we need that kind of war on our hands right now.” As usual, he thought like a warrior first and I, no matter how high I’d risen, would always think like a peasant. His numbers presumed every single able man was pulled from the fields, which would be disastrous for the harvest. Glory was all well and good but not even the warriors would have food if the harvest was not gathered.
”Acatl-tzin.” He shook his head, mildly amused. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the way his careless arrogance was turning into something much more contemptuous.
But, then again, I knew exactly who he was borrowing from, and I’d never liked the man’s arrogance.
His brother, Tizoc-tzin, perhaps our next Revered Speaker.
I shook my head. “In any case, we need to arrange protection for the remaining councillors.” I would have done it myself, but my patron Lord Death wasn’t exactly a god of protection against anything.
Teomitl barked a short laugh. “I’m not a priest.”
”You’re watched over by a goddess, though,” I said, but I knew he was right.
Teomitl looked dubious. “I’m not really sure…”
I shook my head. “No, you’re right.” Any spells Teomitl worked were likely to be large and unsubtle, and shine like a beacon. They might protect, but they’d also draw unwelcome attention. “We’ll offer them protection from the Duality.” I was sure Ceyaxochitl wouldn’t mind. She might groan and