Cast in Ruin. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ he wasn’t speaking his native tongue. She pretended not to hear him, and escaped into the hall.

      She was halfway down that hall—her guide having failed to materialize—when she ran into Sanabalis. Sadly, head down, body tilted in that particular forward angle that was a fast walk threatening to break into an all-out run, it was literal. She bounced; he didn’t budge. A half-formed apology slid out of her mouth as she righted herself and looked up.

      “I see your first class ended early.”

      She nodded.

      “Join me.” It wasn’t worded as a request, and he didn’t actually wait to see if she was going to treat it as one; he turned and began to walk down the hall. Since this implied that he knew where he was going—and since she didn’t—she fell in behind him. He led her from the unfamiliar halls to ones she’d walked through often enough that she could find her bearings.

      He walked, not surprisingly, to his rooms, opening the door and holding it while she entered—as if he half suspected she’d turn and bolt for the exit if he wasn’t watching. Since it happened to be true, she didn’t begrudge him the suspicion. There was no food in the room, but the comforting set of impressive windows still looked out at the three towers of the Halls of Law, and even though it was now evening, they could be seen clearly in the moon’s light, reminding her, at a remove, of why she was here at all.

      She drew a deep breath, and the line of her shoulders sagged when she exhaled. But she faced the towers, not the Dragon Lord, as they did.

      “The lesson?” Sanabalis asked quietly.

      She shrugged. It was stiff, and she felt her shoulders bunching up around her neck again. “I survived.”

      “Did you walk out?”

      “No. I was dismissed.”

      She heard Sanabalis exhale. “Lord Diarmat does not generally teach—when he is given to do so—in his personal quarters.”

      “No? Does he do it in an abattoir instead?”

      She felt the brief heat of his snort, and turned. “The Palace Guard has several open yards, and a handful of enclosed rooms, for the purpose of training.”

      “He’s not training me to be an Imperial Guard.”

      “No.”

      “What, exactly, is my relationship to Lord Diarmat in the Hierarchy, anyway?”

      “What is your relationship to the Human Castelord?”

      “Pardon?”

      “I believe you heard the question.”

      She thought about it for a bit, and then said, “I don’t have one. He presides over the Caste Court. He meets with the Emperor on matters of governance. I owe him nothing; he owes me nothing.”

      “Unless you choose to take refuge in the Caste Court.”

      It was never going to happen. “I don’t understand the question.”

      “No. You don’t. Lord Diarmat is part of the Dragon Court. In theory, you owe the Dragon Court itself no fealty; your oath of office is to the Emperor’s Law, and not directly to the Emperor himself. The Emperor is, however, your Commander, in a strictly technical sense. The titles the Dragons are given are a sign of public respect, no more.

      “You would not, however, sneer publicly at your caste lord.”

      “No.” She would never, if Marcus or the Hawklord had anything to say about it, meet the human caste lord.

      “In a like fashion, you tender Diarmat the respect that is his due as a councilor of the Emperor. He is not, however, your Commander; the line of command for the Halls of Law passes from the Emperor directly to the Lords of Law. You are not therefore required to offer him any of the narrow range of salutes or obeisances taught in the Halls. He is not, technically, your superior, where in this case, technically means legally.”

      “Which means?”

      He smiled. His eyes were gold, and his lower membranes, unlike Diarmat’s, were entirely lowered. “It means that legally you owe him no deference. Legally, you owe the Lord of the High Halls and his Consort no deference, either.”

      “I’m technically a Lord of the High Court.”

      “Believe that I am conversant with your history in the High Court. You are, however, not required by Imperial law to comport yourself according to the dictates of the High Court, outcaste exception laws notwithstanding.”

      “I’m not breaking any laws if I cease to breathe, either.”

      “Indeed. You see my point.”

      She could barely see his point, and begrudged the comprehension.

      “The very deliberate and complicated social structure of the High Court evolved, in part, for what reason?”

      “Sanabalis—”

      “I have done you the courtesy of holding our classes in abeyance. If, however, it is necessary, I will rescind that courtesy.”

      “Those are magic lessons!”

      “Indeed. But what one learns in one discipline can be applied to others in unpredictable ways; education is a process.” He folded his arms across his chest, and waited.

      Sanabalis’s meeting room was littered with chairs; the walls contained shelves with glass doors, and a mirror lurked in one of them. Kaylin availed herself of a chair, sitting heavily as she did. Lowering her face into her hands, she forced herself to think about what she knew of the High Court; it didn’t take all that long.

      “The Barrani tend to kill each other as an idle pastime.”

      “So it’s been rumored.”

      “Barrani crimes are all confined to the Barrani Caste Court. They don’t reach the Imperial Court, ever.”

      “So the Barrani commit no interracial crimes?”

      She snorted. “Of course they do. But if there’s any chance we’ll catch them and they’ll be forced to trial in the Imperial Courts, the criminals wind up conveniently and messily dead. And often on our doorstep, because gods know the Barrani have more important things to do than clean up their own mess.”

      Sanabalis actually chuckled at that. “An interesting digression. The rest of your answer?”

      “There is no court of last resort among the Barrani. There are no Hawks or Swords that any sane Barrani will use. The Barrani are part of the City, but the only way they seem to really interact involves commerce. If I were Barrani, I would therefore have to live and act as if anyone—anyone at all—could be planning to assassinate me. Or if anyone could decide it was necessary if I somehow offended them.

      “I could, if I felt powerful enough and secure enough, afford to offend the less powerful with impunity. I’m not sure I’d consider it wise. But…on the other hand, I suppose if I did behave that way, it СКАЧАТЬ