Exile's Honor

:But we aren't,: Kantor said with some force.

The warmth that followed that pronouncement made the cold nausea lift a little, and eased some of the churning of his gut. It certainly made him feel less as if he was standing alone, facing a suspicious mob.

:I know. Thank you.: Knowing that the Companions now accepted him helped a little, but—

He knew what he wanted to say—that he had given up everything, everything, when he was brought here. That he had thrown his lot in with Valdemar, given his word, and that word was not given lightly. Couldn't they see that? This unknown man, who watched him from under furrowed brows, didn't he realize that?

And he wanted to say that—if his own people had sunk so low as to hire the Tedrels to do their dirty work, then surely even the Sunlord would abandon them....

But he said none of this, for it would not matter if he did. Instead, he sat stone-faced and silent, and waited for the others to say something.

Even if it was only to 'suggest' that he leave.

Finally Dethor hissed a little between his teeth. 'I don't s'ppose,' he said carefully, 'that you'd know anybody likely to—well—be helpful? Inside Karse, that is? We'd like to know more about these rumors from someone with good, hard facts.'

That... was a little better. Even if it sniffed around the edges of that promise they'd made him, the promise never to ask him to work against his own people.

But if those who are supposed to lead my people have already betrayed them? How can knowing if that betrayal is true or false be acting against the people?

'Depend it does,' Alberich replied, just as carefully, 'on what it is, by helpful, you mean.'

'Information,' Talamir said. 'Nothing more. And nothing that would hurt Karse. Only what will protect us without hurting your people.'

Alberich turned Talamir's words over and over in his mind, as the other three watched him. Because he did know someone who might—just might—be willing to be 'helpful.' Of all the people that Alberich knew, Aksel Tarselein was the most likely to be enraged and offended if this tale of hiring the Tedrels was true, and was, because of his own contacts, the most likely to know if it was truth or rumor spread to discomfit the enemies of Karse.

For Aksel Tarselein, trainer of cadets, had already been a deeply troubled man when Alberich knew him. Someone—another young, highborn officer—had once described him, with a sneer, as 'one of the old school,' as if being a man of honor and integrity, whose word was seldom given and always kept, was somehow unfashionable and old-fashioned. And the shifts to which the Son of the Sun had fallen by the time Alberich had been commissioned had left Aksel profoundly disturbed. He was glad, he had confessed to the younger Alberich when the two of them had shared a farewell flask on the night of Alberich's commission, that he was no longer in a position where he found himself forced to obey orders which went against his conscience. 'And it is a harder world today,' he had said sadly, staring at the last few drops in the bottom of his flagon. 'You may discover that you have to stop thinking—or stop obeying. I hope that the Sunlord will guide you, young one.'

He had said no more on the subject, but Alberich knew which path he had taken, though not without qualms, and not without remorse.

I stopped thinking, at least until Kantor came to me....

Just as he knew that Aksel had not stopped thinking. That was not Aksel's way. But as long as Aksel remained a Weaponsmaster to cadets, he would never be given an order that forced him to disobey either. Aksel held fast to his own honor only by making sure he was in a place where he would not have to sacrifice it.

Which of them had been given the easier path? Was it better to obey and not think, or think and try to ignore and be glad you, personally, didn't have to disobey?

'Possible, it is,' he said, very slowly, 'that there is a man. But possible it is not, directly to approach him. Friends he keeps, in the Mercenary Guild. There it is you must go. Speak with you he may, deny you he may.' Alberich shrugged. 'I cannot say; his own decision, he must make.'

'Fair enough. And we've got enough friendly contacts with the Guild to ferret out whoever knows him,' Dethor said, nodding agreement. 'His name?'

'Aksel Tarselein. Weaponsmaster to the Sunsguard Cadets.' Once again, Dethor and Talamir exchanged a look, this time a startled one.

Should he add something from himself, so that Aksel knew who had revealed him?