The Shades of Time and Memory by Storm Constantine
Caeru laughed. “I don't believe it! You're his advocate.”
Velaxis picked up a glass of cold greenish wine. He took a drink. “He treats you better than Pellaz, your so-called consort, ever has. Why knock it?”
“I don't need anyhar to 'treat me' one way or another. Things were fine before. I've lost Thiede, my guide. He was effectively murdered. And I should be happy about this?”
“Thiede isn't dead. You know it. The changes were needed.”
“Thanks, Vel. You're so supportive.”
Velaxis shrugged. “In your position, I'd be making the most of it. I'd be doing more to shape things to my liking.”
“Meaning?”
“Whatever has been said of Calanthe, our esteemed new Tigron, and however dreadful he may really be, one thing is obvious: he feels guilty about you. To my eyes, that speaks of advantage.”
“He doesn't feel guilty about me. Why should he?”
Velaxis tilted his head to one side. “You don't need me to spell it out. He comes here every day, just to check you're not cutting your own throat or scheming his annihilation. He doesn't come here for the cuisine, Rue. Haven't you ever asked yourself why he visits you so often? You're never anything but frosty. Think about it.”
Caeru stretched in his chair. “He comes here, I think, because he is confused about Pellaz. He has been reunited with the har he has loved for many years, but now he finds that our sweet Pell is not the same. He's nothing like the har Cal fell in love with, and perhaps if he were honest, Cal might admit he's been chasing a dream. Now, he's in trapped in it. That's confusing. So, he comes here to study me, to see if he can learn anything about how to handle the situation. That's all. I won't help him. He can lie on this bed of thorns he's made for himself.”
“What can you teach him about Pell? The pair of you have barely spoken for years.”
“Maybe I could teach him how to survive Immanion and the Gelaming. But I won't.”
Velaxis put down his empty wine glass. “Then you are stupid.”
“Why say that? You know I'm not, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here. Say what you mean.”
“If I were you,” said Velaxis, drawing a circle in a puddle of spilled wine on the table, “I would consider getting closer to this new, second Tigron that we have. Pellaz is unassailable, but Cal is not. He's vulnerable, raw and unsure of himself. Hara are divided over whether he is a good or a bad force. He needs allies, as you need allies. Swallow your pride and give him what he wants: on your terms.”
“He'd never go against Pell.”
“I'm not suggesting he should, or even that you should encourage that. All I'm saying is that Pellaz shouldn't be allowed to have Cal all to himself, because if you don't do anything that's what will happen. At one time, Cal was the dominant force in their partnership. He was the one who brought Pell into the Wraeththu fold and then initiated him into the ways of aruna. But, whatever romantic memories he clings to, he has no power over Pell now. He'll end up being a cat's paw, like most of Pell's close friends. I think it's about time our esteemed first Tigron woke up to reality. He's treated you abysmally since the day you came here.”
“Well, I shouldn't have come...”
“Oh, don't start that again! I can't bear it when you try to have a conscience. Tell me you don't like having this fabulous home and all the land Thiede gave you. And don't pretend you're all grief-stricken about Thiede's disappearance. You're not. You're famous in your own right. Tell me you don't like hara virtually dropping to their knees in the street when they catch sight of you. You love it. You wouldn't give any of it up, even if Pellaz threw himself at your feet and declared his undying love.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“It's what everyhar thinks of you. Don't be like Pellaz. Don't blind yourself to the truth. Use it to your advantage. Wallow in it.”
Caeru refilled their wine glasses. “You are a harsh vizier, Vel.”
“Somehar has to be. It's beneath you to be kind.” Velaxis picked up his wine glass again, stared into its depths. “It has not escaped me that you haven't forbidden Cal to call. You could have done so, at any time. You enjoy playing with him, don't you?”
Caeru was silent for a moment, then he said, “I heard something recently.”
Velaxis glanced at him in enquiry, but said nothing.
“It came originally from Cal himself, on the very first day after he came here and everything was in chaos. I didn't think about it much, but then it was confirmed through the grapevine of the Tigron's staff. A conversation overheard.”
“Oh, gossip! I can't wait.”
Caeru pulled a sour face. “Pellaz said that everything he owns belongs also to Cal. That includes me.”
Velaxis gestured languidly with one hand. “Well, of course, Pellaz believes that.”
“But does Cal? He said it to me once, but I think it was just to get a reaction, or to shut me up or something.”
“Why not find out?”
“I don't belong to anyhar. The idea is absurd.”
“But the fact that it was said...” Velaxis shrugged. “Change were – and are – needed, Rue. Cal came here and overturned the old order. The Hegemony is alone now and so are the Aralisians. Thiede has withdrawn from the field. That's the biggest change to Wraeththu since it all began. If you are Cal's, then he is yours, and perhaps not before time. Pellaz cannot be allowed to function in the way he used to. It's my belief it's partly up to you to make sure this happens, and you have to do it quickly, while the winds of change are still strong. Don't let the dust settle.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“Now, you are being harsh. You know I'm fond of you.”
“Fondness aside, you work for the Hegemony. Is this what they want too?”
“We all want what is best for Wraeththu.”
Caeru didn't even bother responding to that. Velaxis, for all his good qualities, was ambitious and self-serving. He words could mean only one thing. Pellaz had hidden enemies within the Hegemony. Caeru had hardly dared to believe such a thing. Even though he'd worked hard to be popular, the perfect Tigrina, adored – as Velaxis had pointed out – by hara in the street, he knew that Pell's indifference to his apparently spotless Tigrina was regarded unfavourably by nearly everyhar in Immanion, if not farther afield. Still, Caeru had always believed the Hegemony regarded him as nothing more than a useful trinket to dangle before the masses, to keep them sweet. He was the hostling of Pell's heir, Abrimel, and appealed to those parts of the harish psyche that cherished the idea of motherhood. If he had been human, he would have been a gracious queen, beautiful and dignified, forever at the side of the king. As it was, Pellaz had spent their entire life together trying to keep Caeru at a distance. Thiede had arranged their union, against Pell's wishes, and the Tigron had never let Caeru forget that. The Tigrina had got used to the situation. He wasn't blind to his privileges in life. If he could go back in time, he would still make the same decision about coming to Immanion. For years, he'd drifted along, doing what was expected of him and reaping the benefits. He had trained himself not to be wounded by Pell's behaviour. Sometimes, though, Caeru still dreamed of when he and Pell had first met, when they had conceived a pearl in passion and what Caeru thought was lasting feeling. Waking up to reality after such dreams was never pleasant. It kept something alive in Caeru's heart he would rather let wither and die. The truth of why he allowed Cal to visit him was because he was curious about the ghost that had haunted and blighted his relationship with Pellaz. Fascination and envy were uneasy companions. But Velaxis had spoken wisely. It was time, perhaps, to make an offering.
Caeru worked himself up into such a state of tension that, by the time Cal presented himself at the doors to the apartment, at the usual time just before dinner, Caeru felt giddy with nerves. He'd asked his kitchen staff to prepare a more sumptuous meal than usual and had changed his mind about which wines should accompany it several times. He dressed himself with ca
Cal himself appeared oblivious to any undercurrents in the atmosphere. He came in like a stray cat, lissom and alert, as if pondering where best to make his home. It was clear he didn't yet feel comfortable in Immanion. His hair, like Caeru's, was the palest gold, although he kept it fairly short for convenience's sake. Cal, in Rue's opinion, was not a har to spend much time looking after himself. He often looked as if he'd just got out of bed. He was a gypsy creature, disoriented because he was no longer on the move.
Caeru received him on the terrace and at first maintained the somewhat steely demeanour he reserved for his dealings with the new Tigron. “How are you managing alone?” he asked icily, referring to the fact that Pellaz was out of the city, visiting friends in Galhea, no doubt in an attempt to smooth certain feathers that had been extremely ruffled over recent developments.
Cal threw himself into a chair, with the easy languorous grace that Caeru both envied and despised. “I have kept my pining to a minimum,” he said.
“I'm glad. It would distress me so to see physical evidence of it.”
“Your claws appear to be particularly sharp tonight.”
Caeru shrugged, as if Cal was barely worthy of his notice, and signalled to a member of his staff to bring out the first wine. As the serving har fussed with the bottle, the Tigrina leaned back in his chair, smiled sweetly at Cal and said, “Will Pellaz be carrying fond messages from you to your son in Galhea?”
Cal grimaced. “Congratulations, you hit bone! No. Not yet.” He narrowed his eyes. “What's going on?”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“OK. Fine.” Cal took the wine that was offered to him. He sipped. “Mmm. As dry as your tongue, though just as fine.”
Caeru smiled fiercely, but inwardly he felt himself slump. Cal was magnificent. He could not be anything but Tigron, or Pell's consort. It was almost surreal to be sitting here talking with him, a har who had been a threatening idea for so long. Caeru had hated Cal from the moment he'd first heard about him and only later discovered this hatred was, in some respects, justified. But looking at him now, no matter what he might have done or been in the past, it was no surprise Pellaz had always adored Cal. Haunted by memories of this exquisite being, how could Pellaz ever have been expected to care for anyhar else? No wonder he'd loathed the fact that Caeru had ended up at his side instead.
What am I doing? Caeru thought. This is pointless.
“I'm putting a program together,” Cal said as the first course was brought out. “I think it's important that victims of the atrocities in Megalithica should receive firsthand Gelaming care. They've been neglected too long. What do you think?”
“I don't care. I just appear at state functions and look pretty.”
“You could help me. It's a big job.”
“I don't want to. You can't make a difference, so why bother trying?”
“I have the kind of nature that has to keep trying. You might have noticed.”
“You do have a trying nature, that is true.”
Cal laughed. “I'm so pleased you enjoy our meals together. It's a kind of blood sport, isn't it?”
“So I'm told. You don't have to come, so I assume you enjoy it too. Is it the same with Pell? Are you into being dominated? Perhaps you still remember the young boy you had incepted into Wraeththu. It must be quite a shock to see how he's turned out. And now he has you, bound hand and foot. Was it worth the trouble?”
Cal didn't say anything, and Caeru realised he had hit a nerve, perhaps several. Not good. That wasn't supposed to be the purpose of this meeting, even if it was almost impossible to rein in the bitterness. “Tell me your plans,” he said. “I don't want to help you, but it might pass the time to hear about them.” He knew Cal would recognise a peace offering when it was given to him. Apology would be going too far.
Cal spoke of his dreams, those he had cherished for years. Caeru realised that Pellaz was perhaps not the only reason Cal was here in Immanion. He spoke with greater and greater passion as the meal progressed, of how he wanted to help all those hara who had been incepted into violent tribes and who were still hunted as criminals now that the Gelaming had mostly established control in Megalithica. “It is all about choice,” he said, “and how some hara never had it. If I'm going to be a Tigron I might as well try to do some good. Looking pretty is not enough for me.”
“You never had to go through what I did,” Caeru said. “Don't judge me.”
“I know what you went through. We all went through something. Remember: I was Uigenna. I have blood on my hands. You don't. Pell doesn't expect anything of you, Rue. In that, you are lucky.”
“Are you confiding in me?”
“I wouldn't be so stupid. It's just a fact, and everyhar knows it.”
“Calanthe: champion of the underdog. It's a good image; as good as mine, I suppose, though just as rhetorical.”
Cal sighed through his nose. “You are exhausting.” He pushed his plate away from him. “Dinner was good. We eat like kings, while in other places...”
“Shut up. I don't want to hear it.”
“I know. Not many do.”
“I'll give you five years at most before you get totally disillusioned and just sit back to enjoy the good food. Don't you realise what Tigron and Tigrina are? Carnival attractions. We're not supposed to have opinions or do anything.”
“That's not true. Pell does a lot.”
“Five years, that's all,” Caeru said.
“I'll prove you wrong.” Cal stood up. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Don't thank me. I didn't invite you.”
Cal began to leave the terrace, and for several seconds, Caeru debated what to do next. It might be better just to let Cal go, but then there would be Velaxis' scorn to deal with.
“Wait a moment,” Caeru said.
Cal paused. “Yes?”
Caeru took a deep breath, and hoped it didn't show. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my apartment to gloat over my useless plans.”
“You don't have to leave.”
Cal frowned. “But I thought...”
Caeru stood up. “Look, if you really want us to be friends, we could go out tonight. I'm bored. I want to visit the high waterfront. There's a club there, called 'Serpent Sapphire'. It's a rich har's play pen. Had good reports. I want to see it.”
Cal hesitated. “Hmm. Why do you want to go with me?”
Caeru made a careless gesture with one arm. “I enjoy our fights. I'm in the mood to socialise. Do I need another reason?”
“I'm not sure.”
“How brave are you? Will you do it?”
“I don't know...” Cal rubbed the back of his neck. What would it take to persuade him?
“Of course, it might embarrass you to be seen in public with me.”
“It's not that.”
“Then what?”
“I can't help suspecting this might just be a ploy to get at Pell, but then I'm unusually paranoid.”
Caeru laughed. “Why should he care? I'm less than dirt to him. He knows I can't affect his life, or anything in it, one little bit. This is nothing to do with him. I just want to go out. Be Tigron in this sense: escort me.”
Cal nodded, a little distractedly. “All right.”
“Sit here. Wait. I'll get ready.”
Caeru rushed to his dressing room and spent a frantic ten minutes deciding what to wear. He eventually settled on an understated appearance: simple trousers and shirt of matt black silk. He smoothed down his hair and cleaned his face of any cosmetics. Tonight, he did not want to be a pretty bauble. He wanted Cal to see him differently.
When he finally reappeared on the terrace, Cal said, “I see. We are incognito. Now who's embarrassed to be seen with whom
“Sometimes, there is power in being natural,” Caeru said. “Tonight I am me rather than Tigrina. Don't you know about that yet?”
“I know about masks,” Cal said.
They walked through the palace to the covered stable yard, which was surrounded on all sides by high columned galleries. Fortunately, these had not been too damaged by the earthquakes that had shaken the city when Cal had first arrived. Caeru asked that an open carriage be made ready for them. A ride through the balmy evening air would be pleasant. They would hear the purr of the sea and smell the flowers that hung heavily from the trees along Processional Way. They could survey what was left of the ruins caused by Cal's elemental fight with Thiede.