It was not the first time she’d been in the Alliance, but it was the first time she’d come in state, as reigning queen of an allied nation—rather than incognito, or as the heir to the throne. They’d received her with far more pomp than she’d expected, but obviously, by the harassed expressions she caught on more than one face, far less pomp than they preferred. The chambers they’d assigned her entourage were as palatial as could be expected on a military station, but the officials had been in the middle of apologizing for their meanness when the news of her niece’s return had interrupted them. Hirianthial bolted for the station’s hospital wing without so much as a by-your-leave, and the disturbance of the ceremony had so flustered the Pelted greeting her that she’d taken pity on them and sent them away with a gently worded thank-you. After she’d gotten what she wanted out of them, which was the location of the dragons… something they’d divulged because they’d obviously believed she wanted to avoid them.
Liolesa’s entourage consisted mostly of Tams and Swords, none of whom would dare object to any of her plans. Her single sops to the political necessities were Hirianthial and one of Delerenenard’s legal secretaries, and of those two she’d brought the one more because of the Pattern than any need to present a powerful front to her allies. She’d known Hirianthial’s services as a surgeon would be called for—had suspected, feeling it, that it was Sediryl’s wyrd to return a chastened woman, but one who would survive with the right elements in attendance. Liolesa had taken care to ensure that they were, and having done so, felt no concern.
It was one of the reasons she kept to herself so. She’d long since realized her confidence in the Pattern could make her seem callous… and revealing her reasons for that confidence did not engender understanding in the average mind, but rather fear. Her gift made her seem supernatural, and not all her explanations on the many, many ways she fell short of divine powers saved her from the irritation of dealing with their unease.
Far better to deal with people as they were, and compensate for their reactions, than to try to take too many of them into her confidences in the hopes they would be reasonable. Men like her cousin, and women like the human he’d married, were rare, and their frequency not to be relied upon. It was one of the few truly depressing pieces of truthful advice her aunt had given her during her training, but she refused to dwell on it.
As it was, things had fallen out just as she’d desired: the Pelted had left her alone, assuming (incorrectly) that she would want time to rest after her long journey, and to recover from the chaos sown by the arrival of her ailing niece. Thus, her window of opportunity.
“I require escort,” she said to Olthemiel. “I am going abroad on the station.”
“My lady!” he exclaimed. “We’ve but only arrived, and I have not had the opportunity to discuss security arrangements with anyone that might have been assigned to that task by our hosts—”
Which was exactly as she wanted it. “I am aware of that, Captain. Bring as many of your men as you feel necessary for your comfort.”
Despite his years of service he did not pin her with the minatory look she could sense the floor was now receiving. Even her gentle teasing didn’t help—‘your comfort’—but he’d been the head of her White Swords for long enough to realize there was no defying her. Consequently, when she exited her quarters, she was englobed by six White Swords and trailed by a single White Shield, who was stubbornly intent on his duty despite feeling that he was poor substitute for the mind-mage who should have been at her side.
But Hirianthial had his work to do, without which the Pattern would founder. And so did she. It was the one thing she could offer her subordinates without fail: that she did not act out of caprice.
No doubt that was small comfort when they reached their destination.
“My lady,” Olthemiel said, greatly daring to offer what was, in essence, a rebuke. “This is ill-advised—”
And because he’d said it out of concern for her welfare, she answered him more completely than she might otherwise have. She even spoke in the white, so he would know she was about holy errands. “On the contrary, Captain, it is entirely necessary. And you will await me outside.”
None of which, apparently, soothed him. “My lady, I cannot allow you to proceed alone!”
“You can,” she said. “And you will.” She nodded to the Pelted guards on either side of the door and chimed for entrance.
“Who asks?” came a voice through the passthrough, after a long moment during which her captain stared at her in miserable frustration and the Pelted guards watched the entire episode with ill-disguised curiosity, no doubt divining the meaning of the exchange even without understanding the language.
“It is the Empress of the Eldritch Empire,” Liolesa said, and a touch impishly, “I have come to call on my peers.”
Did she imagine the amusement in the rumbled voice? “Come in.”
“Stay,” Liolesa said to Olthemiel. “They will not hurt me. Moreover, they will take it amiss if you follow, which will endanger me.”
He had been flushed, but this stole the color from his face. “Yes, my lady.”
Alone, then, Liolesa stepped into the rooms assigned to her counterparts from the Chatcaavan Empire, and saw at last the faces of the species that had been bound to hers in the Pattern for so long that she had spent her adult life in grappling with them.
What had she expected? Carefully, nothing; she had trained all her life to combat assumptions and biases that would disturb her ability to work with reality, rather than what she hoped reality was. The male she saw rising from the couch, though, was everything he should have been. Short, certainly—the dragons were—and lithe, more serpent than hulking wyrm. Black, as reported, but not glossy, so that it was difficult to differentiate horns from mane from body. A paper cut-out, she thought, but moving; it made the fluorescent yellow eyes all the more startling, and she couldn’t doubt that the black robe and pants had been chosen to give the eye no purchase elsewhere. He exuded a palpable self-assurance, and moved with a sinuous grace that suggested his lethality, but she liked his eyes. They were… complex. Patient. They were assessing her, giving her time to assess him. She wondered what he thought of her, and found it surprising that she might when she so infrequently bothered with other people’s perceptions of her.
“It’s safe,” the Emperor said in Chatcaavan, and that brought forth another individual, a woman shaded pewter and silver with solemn orange eyes. She had a delicate face, graceful limbs, and yet… there was a delightful lack of yielding in her gaze. A woman who had walked through hell alone, Liolesa decided, and would never question her power again. That her Emperor sought to protect her was less a judgment on her mettle, and more a reflection of his regard for her.
It was, in the end, as her knights errant had reported.
“The Ambassador’s queen,” the Emperor said to that dragon, in Universal now.
“Oh!” The woman touched the tip of her mouth. “Yes, so she is.”
Liolesa couldn’t help it. She started laughing. “Yes, so I am,” she said. “I trust you do not find it disrespectful, that I might be desirous of making your acquaintance prior to meeting you over the treaty table?”
“But where are your guards!” the Chatcaavan Queen exclaimed. “You should not be unescorted!”
Hard to spot the mouth on the Emperor, dark as his skin was, but his eyes were so luminous she could see the lower lids curving up against them. “She is her Ambassador’s sovereign in more ways than one, it appears.”
“She is,” Liolesa said in Chatcaavan, causing them both to pause. She could have withheld that knowledge from them and used it to eavesdrop on their discussions while negotiating, but she had decided it would serve her better here, where it would be perceived as a sign of strength… and a gift, to build trust. “And I thank you for the handling of my ambassador, who profited greatly by your acquaintance.” Tilting her head. “I assume I have no need of guards?”
The Emperor snorted. “No, lady,” he said in Universal. “You have no such need. And I use this tongue only because it is easier to speak of females respectfully in it. Your accent is flawless.”
“I have had many years to study your tongue,” Liolesa said. “And many resources to learn from. Though the amendments to the official guides following the Ambassador’s exit from your empire have been… instructive.”
“Oh,” the Queen said, staring at her. “You really are his sovereign.”
“All you imagined?” the Emperor asked his Queen.
“You should hardly ask her such things in front of me,” Liolesa said, amused.
No mistaking that curve of the lower eyelid now: mirth, certainly. “I shouldn’t, if I worried the answer would be a problem. But I doubt it is.”
The Queen glanced at him, then turned her attention back to her. “I’m not sure what I imagined, but I do not think that would offend you, given what you know about us.”
As they probably had no context for evaluating a woman with power… “No, indeed.”
The Queen nodded, as Eldritch would—surprising on that long neck, but lovely—and said, “But please, sit, if you wish to stay. Are you staying? Why have you come?”
“To meet you, as I said,” Liolesa replied. “If I am correct, the three of us will be interacting a great deal in the days to come, and our futures, and the futures of our nations, are intertwined. I wanted to ask the same question you are now—if you were all I imagined and expected—and see if there is any possibility of amity.”
“Amity,” the Emperor said now, considering her. “After all that we have done to your people.”
“To your former heir,” the Queen added, ducking her head.
Liolesa had the seat they had offered her, in one of the chairs facing the coffee table and sofa. The Chatcaava had received the same set of suites she had, she saw, only reversed. Punctilious in their courtesies; she was glad of the evidence of their even-handedness. “Should I worry that you are planning on imprisoning more of my people?”
The Emperor cocked his head. “You aren’t, obviously.” And then, huffing. “Why should you, when you sent a single Eldritch into my empire, and tumbled it?”
“To be fair, he was a rather singular individual.”
“I’m not willing to wager he’s unique,” the Emperor said. “Not after recent events.” He sat at the end of the sofa, sprawling over its arm so as not to crush his wings. “So then, Liolesa Galare. Let us begin properly. I am Kauvauc Ueneuvin, first of that dynasty, and Emperor of the Chatcaavan Empire, and yes, I find the prospect of alliance… intriguing. At my side, you find my Queen Ransomed, who is too significant to merit a mere name.” A glance at the female Chatcaavan, who dipped her head again, and if Chatcaava could blush Liolesa thought she might have done. Despite having schooled herself carefully against assumptions, she was surprised to find them so obviously in love. “And despite your courage in assailing the dragon’s den alone, I admit to finding it unexpected.”
“Later I will have my cousin at my side,” Liolesa said. “But he was wanted in the hospital wing for a consultation. You will meet him later: Hirianthial Eddings Laisrathera, my Lord of War, and another mind-mage like the Ambassador.”
“Another of these dangerous cousins,” the Emperor said. “Had I known how useful and lethal family could be, I would have cultivated one sooner. So then. Our empires.”
“A true alliance,” Liolesa said. “Would be beneficial. By which I mean a true alliance between feudal powers, which the Alliance is poorly arranged to understand.”
“We are on the other side of settled space. It is not a minor distance.”
“So we are,” Liolesa said, because she was not willing yet to reveal what might, after all, be a part of the pattern that was never recovered. “But we will meet in the middle enough. We might even consider a collaboration, here and there. In the form of colonies, among other things.”
“You intrigue,” the Emperor said. “And yet, you have not yet said what we are both thinking, Empress.”
“That you have unfinished business on my side of the Alliance?” Liolesa said. “Yes. Your treasonous second fled past my border.”
“I want him.”
“I would very much like for you to have him,” Liolesa said. “Or for me to have him. But what might be necessary instead is for us to allow the Alliance to have him.”
The Emperor studied her for several long moments, and she returned his scrutiny, unhurried.
“This,” he said, “is why you came. To make this request of me.”
“I am gratified to learn that the reports of your intelligence have not been exaggerated.”
“You want us to give the Alliance the task of dealing with our personal enemy?” the Queen ventured. “Wouldn’t that cause them to resent us more? Or enflame their prejudices further? They do not love Chatcaava now, Empress.”
“They very much despise you, in point of fact. Dangerously so. And yet, I would very much like it if you were to involve them in the hunt, and, in fact, give as much of it over to them as possible. And when they find Second, I would be obliged if you were to let them do most of the fighting.”
“You believe this will expunge their hatred,” the Emperor said.
“I believe this will direct that hatred at our enemies,” Liolesa said. “It is too much to hope that they will cease to hate you. Given that, we had best handle their need to slay dragons by putting the right dragons under their claws.”
“But after they are done with Second… won’t that conflict have habituated them to the concept of dragons as antagonists?” the Queen asked.
The Pattern felt warm and molten sometimes…in the same way unset steel did. Liolesa said, “It may. Or it may teach them to perceive dragons as a race belonging to more than one nation, if you abet them properly, and if we bring in humanity as consultants to the task. We have an opportunity to work on the Pelted’s hatred indirectly, and unless I’m mistaken, indirectly is the only way we might succeed.”
“And you are not often mistaken, are you,” the Emperor said, still regarding her with that unwavering attention.
“When I am mistaken, it’s usually disastrous,” Liolesa replied with a hint of whimsy. “So it is for the best that I’m not.”
He found that briefly amusing, if the slight huff through the nostrils was any indication. But then he spoke. “Second has much to pay for. He rent my empire asunder and set it at war with itself. Slew millions of Chatcaava as a diversion for his ambitions. Weakened my navy’s trust in its members. And that is completely aside from the insults he has paid me personally.”
“Second also killed millions of Pelted, weakened their trust in their own inviolability, and destroyed a great deal of their real estate, including one of their oldest settled worlds,” Liolesa said. “They have no less of a claim than you do. If you allow them to exercise that claim over yours, imagine what a favor they will owe you.”
“If, in fact, they perceive I am owed anything at all?” the Emperor asked, dryly.
“If they don’t,” Liolesa said, “It will be because we have not done our work while we are distracting them with the hunt. Do you often fail, Emperor Kauvauc? I don’t think that you do. Do you.”
He laughed. “No, Empress Liolesa, from whom all your fiercest people have obviously learned to wield their natural weapons… I don’t.” Sobering, he finished, “When I do, it’s usually disastrous.”
“Ah well,” Liolesa said. “My most recent mistake set off a civil war as well.” She flashed him a half-smile. “We can be brethren in that regard.”
“And how many worlds did your civil war catapult into tumult?”
“One,” Liolesa said. “But unlike you, one is enough to serve us our extinction. You have done better. I intend, in fact, to use you for a model in that regard.”
The Emperor’s laughter was sudden and explosive. “You do, do you? And you will, I’m sure. All right, Empress. I can see the utility of allowing the Pelted first swipe at the enemy. Particularly since I have matters of my own to tend to. But if harem you begin, you will have to surrender your ambassador, as I have no intention of sharing him with you.”
“He does more than enough on my behalf where he is,” Liolesa said. “So by all means… keep him.”
“Very good,” the Emperor said. “I believe we have an agreement.”
“Excellent. Then I shall be on my way.” Liolesa rose. “I have found this meeting… educational. And profitable. And look forward to continuing our association.”
“I can say the same,” the Emperor said. “And I trust this won’t be the last time we talk directly, rather than through the auspices of our courts.”
“Oh,” Liolesa said, feeling it with the inevitability of fate. “I would count on that.”
Outside the dragon’s quarters, she said to Olthemiel, “Back to our assigned rooms, I believe.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, and though he hid it she could sense his relief in the alacrity with which he ordered her entourage into formation around her. While she’d been in her impromptu conference, the guards at the Chatcaavan door had been replaced: two humans, now, and unlike the Pelted they showed no signs of interest at all in her presence. Very proper, she thought, and a good sign: if Fleet knew its human element constituted a less volatile choice for dealing with its newest allies, things would go more easily for all of them. Not that ‘more easily’ would be much of an improvement, but she would work with what she had, as she had always.
She did not enjoy discommoding her guards, but that conference… that had been a necessary investment in a future they could survive, and it had gone well. Not least because someone had gone before her to pave the way. Lisinthir Nase Galare’s dragon lovers… who would ever have thought? Not even her sense of the weave had hinted that what she’d needed done, what she’d hoped she would earn with his sacrifice, would be accomplished in such a fashion.
That there might be occasional surprises in her life struck her as a blessing. Returned to her suite, amid the fluttering of servants and guards who had been distressed at her absence, she brought up the treaty that had existed between the Alliance and her people for centuries, and settled in to occupy herself fruitfully until Hirianthial’s return, and news of her niece.
A leader who did not learn patience did not lead long. And Liolesa was not done yet.