Birthright

7

The door of Edith's office was ajar when she returned. She nudged it open with her foot, hoping Marc Ranaxis hadn't found the book already, but the person standing by the window was Gabe. "Hello, Edith!" he said brightly. "Sorry for coming in when you weren't here, but, the last time I tried waiting for you in the library proper, they threw me out."

"Not a problem. It's good to see you again. How have you been?" She knew better than to ask where; she hadn't been able to get a straight answer out of Gabe before he'd disappeared, and she doubted anything had changed.

"Oh, very well as usual. Tell me - do you have any plans for tomorrow morning?"

"Nothing important."

"I'd be much obliged if you'd meet me down at the Ambassador at ten. There are some things for us to talk about."

"Is everything okay?"

"As well as always. I'll see you tomorrow then," he said briskly, and disappeared down the hall.

It was no use trying to guess what he'd meant; as Simon had once said, odd was normal for Gabe. Even so, the question kept her up and pacing well into the night, though that was as much the knowledge that a similar invitation had almost certainly been extended to Carmen.

She arrived half an hour early, in part because she was always early when someone told her to be there, but mostly because she was determined not to give Carmen any reason to think she was avoiding her. The bar was empty save for Paul Warbeck and the boy who helped in the kitchen were each holding the end of a banner with a crudely painted emblem that she assumed, by process of elimination, was the gold hound of General Savin's personal standard.. The kid was already standing on a chair and Paul was trying, rather awkwardly, to step up on another.

"Can I help?" said Edith. She couldn't think of an unpatronizing way to tell him that a man with a bad leg had no business climbing on furniture.

For a moment, a look of vexation crossed his face, but it quickly turned to something like relief. "If you would, Edith," he said, giving her his corner of the banner. "This way, I can step back and tell you if it's even."

Edith dutifully climbed up on the chair and took the hammer and nail that Paul handed up to her. After several minutes of conflicting directions, they were able to place it to Paul's satisfaction. "There!" he said happily, as the three of them stood staring up at their work. "Have to get things ready; it's only five days before my son comes home."

The front door opened, and Carmen strode in. She smiled and greeted them all; the only sign she gave of continued animosity was the way her eyes passed over Edith like she wasn't even there, even as she spoke her name.

"Have you found a place along the route?" said Paul.

Carmen's smile grew even more brilliant. "I have a friend with a rooftop patio - Bunny Catrione, do you know her?"

"Nothing like friends in high places, especially friends with high places that happen to be right along the Sunway. Luckily for my wife and me, one of my old friends from the army has a shop near Masertina Street, so we can see our boy without getting trampled. We were planning to invite both of you, and Gabe if he turns up again, but it sounds like you've found something better."

Edith bit her tongue; perhaps she'd talk to the Warbecks later.

"Oh, you girls are in for a treat," Paul went on. "Of course, this won't be a patch on the one I was in, when the war ended, but mark my word, it will be a day you won't forget."

"You marched in Indrion's triumph?" said Edith, eager for a change of subject.

"Oh no, there never was a triumph for the general, however much he deserved one. It was the Emperor who led the army into the city, not him." The kid muttered something about a ham and hurried towards the kitchen; by the pained look in his eyes, he'd heard this story a million times. Paul went on, unconcerned. "Some say it was because the Emperor was afraid to let him into the city with his troops behind him. Imperium, you know? A general who comes in triumph has imperium over the city until they climb the steps on Etalon Hill and give their weapon over to the Emperor."

Edith's fingers strayed to the token around her neck. "I can see why people might have been concerned."

"And the old empress had died only a few weeks before, which makes for fear, even in times of peace. But, the truth is, I don't think the general cared one way or another about a triumph. He knew he'd won the war. And I think he knew the city really would have been his for the taking. What's a parade, compared to all of that? It was his choice to hand over his sword at the Marien Bridge. No one could have made him, if he'd decided otherwise."

"Did you see it happen?" said Carmen.

Paul shook his head - wistfully, she thought. "I was awfully far back - his vanguard was what was left of the Ninth, the ones who had been with him since Tlaxarnal - so I'm afraid I didn't see the handoff, but I heard about it afterwards. The Emperor rode out of the city on his red horse - that's tradition, you know. In the Solanis days, the horse was always white, but the Ranaxis family never had pretensions to that. No, from Siniavis on, the red horse of a victorious general has always been good enough for them. And there was Indrion on the Reaper, the black mare that only he could touch. The two of them met in the middle of the bridge. The Emperor was in full regalia, with the crown and a gilded breastplate, but the general? He wasn't even wearing his armor, just ordinary traveling clothes, his only nod to the victory a star oak leaf in the band of his hat. He drew his sword - fast, they say, so that the Guard was about to rush him - but he bowed his head, and handed over the blade hilt first."

Edith nodded. It was hard to imagine the general going in for cheap jokes, even in his youth, but that moment of terror would have been a reminder to the Emperor that he was emperor only because Indrion had allowed it.

"I don't know where he went that day, but I saw him ride past as we marched into the city. The whole army cheered him, louder even than the crowds that showered us with leaves when we came down the Sunway. He didn't seem to hear. I don't think cheers ever meant anything to him. But the look on his face - that's how I know it was his choice to leave the parading to the Emperor. He looked...well, he looked happy."

The nephew appeared in the kitchen doorway and reported the arrival of a delivery round the back. Paul excused himself, and Carmen and Edith were left alone. It was her job, Edith knew, if not to apologize, then at least to initiate small talk so they could pretend nothing had happened for long enough to find out what Gabe had to say. She was tempted, too; the parts of her life that hadn't been spent being invisible had been spent smoothing over other people's moods.

She was saved from her prevarication by the arrival of Gabe. Rather than the usual dog at his side, however, there was a stocky young woman Edith didn't recognize. She had big ears, a mane of wavy hair to rival Carmen's, and a long, honest face that was pretty in a slightly horsy way; Edith wouldn't have needed to see her next to Gabe to know they were family.

"Good morning," said Gabe, and nothing more.

Carmen broke the silence, holding out her hand to the girl, whose face was turning as red as her hair. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"

"I would," Gabe said with a shrug. "But you've already met my sister Roslin."