Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [143]
There was a brief moment’s pause in which Tynisa surely weighed up all that she had experienced of Lowre Cean: an old man bumbling aimlessly from one pointless pastime to the next. But Elass knew that Lowre had acquitted himself admirably on the hunt, at the last moment, when no other would step in, and Tynisa had surely seen that, too.
‘I shall do it,’ the girl confirmed, and Elass carefully restrained her smile from growing any wider.
A tenday later, Salme Elass herself arrived at Lowre’s enclave, a nearly unprecedented occurrence. The old man met her in his main hall that was, for once, cleared of most of his other transient guests. He sat at one end of it and, though wearing only a darned robe, his posture and bearing had transformed him again into Prince-Major Lowre Cean rather than the semi-recluse normally to be seen pottering about the compound.
A little late to try and recapture all that authority, she reflected. Elass sat across the room from him arrayed in her full and formal robes of silk ornamented with gold trim and silver threads. Isendter knelt at her right hand, his head bowed in deference.
‘My lord,’ she said, instilling available humility into her tone, for all that this whole enclave of his was but guesting on her land, ‘you have heard now how the people of Elas Mar are oppressed, how villains are come north from the unclaimed provinces to burn and rob, and prey on the honest folk who live under my protection. I cannot stand idly by at such a time and, my lord prince, I am sure that you cannot either. You fought with my husband against the Empire, and your victories are famed throughout the Commonweal, so I am sure you will take up arms to defend what was his. Having dwelt here in Elas Mar all the years since your own estates were lost, I am sure that you would defend your newfound home. You have been a Mercer in your time, and surely you cannot stand by and see evil done. Therefore I ask you now to attend my war muster at Leose and give us the benefit of your wise counsel, strengthening my few followers with your own. What do you say, my lord prince?’
Lowre Cean looked away from her and pinched at the bridge of his nose. Elass let her eyes flick across to Tynisa, sitting on the sidelines, and found the girl’s attention was fixed firmly on the old man. She has already done her part, the noblewoman decided. Tynisa had obviously hurried back to Lowre’s compound full of righteous purpose, and how could the old man say no to all that? How could he have lessened and lowered himself in the eyes of his new ward, by refusing to go to battle? Elass particularly enjoyed the slightly baffled expression she saw on the girl’s face. There was a war on, and Tynisa plainly could not understand why Lowre Cean would not gladly cast aside the mundane in order to don his armour once again.
The Prince-Major sighed. ‘I am an old man and I have long put aside warlike pursuits. Your husband was a comrade to me, before the war took him away. He was a comrade to my son, before the Wasp-kinden killed him also.’ He was speaking so softly that Elass had to lean in to catch the words. ‘I am no necromancer to know the wishes of the dead, however.’
He paused then, as one of his servants produced kadith, Isendter pouring for his mistress and Lowre’s young messenger performing the same duty for his master.
‘Nor can I allow the happenstance of residence to move me, for all I was invited here in your husband’s fond memory,’ Lowre continued, at last. ‘The Commonweal is wide, even that part of it left to us by the Wasps, and there are no longer so many of us to people it as before. There are other places for a man such as me, if need be.’
Another pause, age-old conversational paths meandering between them.
‘As for evil, that is a dangerous word that can turn like a centipede and bite its holder. I will make no judgements regarding evil,’ Lowre added. ‘These