A Shade of Paradise

Chapter 5: A Calling

What stupidity possessed you this time," Bastet bellowed, "to leave the manor without any notice and without any men from the retinue? Are you out of your mind?!"

Cyan winced, berating himself for his own stupidity in assuming that a familiar face was a friendly one. After Lady Iriden and countess Sheran had left, he had been unable to see the livid sunset of barely suppressed anger on Bastet's face until he was half way across the courtyard, and then it had been too late.

The captain of the Honorary Guard of House Giles glared at him, the corded muscles in his thick neck rippling, veins protruding from the seething mass of his enraged, chiseled face.

They walked past a boulevard of scattered pines, their dark green boughs stretching its fingers across the grey slate skyline and filling the cool air with the sharp, tangy scent of pine needles. Cyan cast a submissive gaze downward, hoping he looked sufficiently ashamed.

There was a momentary silence, pregnant with a palatable intensity. Bastet continued to glare at Cyan as two figures walked by.

Lord Lyeon Eris, garbed in a purple satin cloak that served to conceal his considerable bulk, was engaged in a conversation with Lady Helenia who sported a ermine fur mantle and a dress shot with a sash of cream coloured silk. The heavyset, tanned Lord Eris brushed back his flowing brown hair, nodding to Bastet who gave a brusque nod in return.

"Captain Bastet," Lady Helenia said, her voice dry and cracking like withered parchment, "how can you stand this cold? My bones are frozen to the marrow."

"I'm afraid it'll only get worse, My Lady, as you well know." Bastet inclined his head towards the elderly Lady Helenia.

She adjusted her fur mantle primly, an exaggerated look of despair on her face. "Oh, I can only wait in dread before the winter comes in earnest." She gave a little shiver.

Cyan was acutely aware of being deliberately ignored by the couple, whose attention was fixed unwaveringly towards the burly captain. A subtle statement; I won't be recognized as a patriarch here, or at least not very important, not until the council decides upon a verdict, he reflected.

"Will you be at court for the next meeting?" Lord Eris asked.

Bastet shook his head ruefully. "The pressing issues that are bound to come up require far more intelligent minds than my own." He clasped his large hands behind his back. "Besides, it won't be a military council."

Lady Helenia drew herself up, fixing Bastet in her sharp gaze and looking down her long hawk beak nose at him. "Nonsense," she sniffed, "There should always be a place for those who protect this city. And what with all this violence and S'ahuel Raider business, surely you could be of some help."

She shot another penetrating gaze, radiating composure and icy poise. "There is a strategem to deal with them, I trust?"

Bastet flashed a smile that gave nothing away. "Many options have been discussed, not the least of which is war," he replied.

Lady Helenia looked flustered at Bastet's elusive response. "Ah yes, very well, then. I suppose its inevitable."

She then proceeded to lock Bastet into an in depth cross examination of everything from the sanitation of the guardhouse to the logistics and meals of the garrison itself. Each time Cyan noticed how the old captain would politely, yet undeniably parry Lady Helenia's attempts to learn what was not -at least yet- public knowledge.

Cyan pretended to be wholly engaged in the conversation, trying to ignore Lord Eris who continued to peer at him with startling intensity, his brows furrowed. He could feel that same inexplicable discomfort as before, as if the various gears and wheels that made up the rambling mind of Lord Eris had begun to turn with an unheard of vigor and speed, trying to deduce who he might be, what his position might be in that undefinable, yet obvious hierarchy of noble heritage and influence.