“You did not wish to make your own introduction?” Rianaire joked, thinking what a delight it would have been to see her do just that.
“To have the guards forget who I am amid all the screaming? I prefer a silent wait.”
Rianaire chuckled. “Very good then. Shall we go and have you meet the people you’ve sworn to protect?”
Gadaí nodded and Rianaire ordered the large doors opened. All heads turned to them as they came into the room. They were announced to the guests to the sound of silence and only a pair of gasps.
“I will not be flippant in this,” Rianaire said to them, eyes shifting from her to Gadaí at her side. “You know what I have done for this land and where it sits in my heart. I ask that you remember those things as I speak to you now. Gadaí has proven herself an ally, a fierce one. Killing her own that we might live. Eala, my chosen Binse of War, is not prepared and we want for the time to see her to such a state. In her place, until she is ready, I will have Gadaí serve as my Binse of War. If she fails in her task in the slightest, I’d ask that you come for my head and see it gladly offered up from my shoulders.” She huffed out an exhausted sigh. “Now, someone bring me wine.”
The gathered audience laughed and applauded, the sound returning to the room. A pair approached immediately, coming to Gadaí’s side with smiling faces. They were armorsmiths, shrewd elves the both of them. Commerce could not be so easily deterred by a satyr, it seemed. Some among the Bastion City sold to Drow, which seemed not so different in Rianaire’s mind. Not at open war, perhaps, but certainly in awkward relations.
She smiled and walked from Gadaí, finding Mion leaned against a pillar. He wore a fine suit in deep green and was accompanied by only one small boy, who wore a dress and had long hair. She’d have thought him for a girl if not knowing Mion’s tastes would never allow it. The whoremonger’s face turned from serious to a smile in a moment.
Rianaire spoke before he could. “You’re souring the air, Mion. Do you hate my Binseman so much?”
“I do, but not the one you imagine.”
She looked around the room. “Ah! Tola. You sent me after him, did you not?”
He clicked his tongue. “A moment of whimsy. Since coming he’s been no end of trouble for me. After owed coin or some such. Ridiculous. You’d think having been inside someone for so many years, there would be certain allowances.”
“You sent me after a former lover, then?”
“He did not mention it?”
“He mentioned very little about you,” she replied, covering a small laugh with her hand. “I should hope you get me the coin I’m owed.”
“Bah!” He waved a dismissive hand at her, returning to his sour mood. “Such jests are beneath you. And surely a reprieve is in order for all I’ve done for you.”
Síocháin wandered away, likely bored with the talk. She did not have much love for Mion, a thing she’d been plain enough about. Inney could likely say the same with more conviction, but stayed at her side as ever.
“If I recall entirely correctly, you said the game was no fun when it was rigged to your favor.”
“I wish you remembered less.” He shrugged. “But, perhaps there’s truth in it. Being so bothered does wonders for my passions.”
Perhaps better that she have Tola leave Mion be, then. Helpful as it was at times, he was mischievous when he became too excited by a thing. A change of subject was worth forcing.
“What do you make of my new Binse of War, then?”
He looked over at Gadaí. “Well, I like the look of the elf girl more, but she seems she’d be interesting to bed.”
“You’d bed her?”
“Why not? And I find myself entirely shocked you seem to have not considered the idea.”
“I fear that is a step too far for even me.”
“A waste.” He slapped the young boy on the arse. “Wine.” The boy scampered away and Mion turned his attention back to Gadaí. “It seems at least that she will be capable. I have heard of the work she did against the satyr who came to the north. Brutal work, and vicious.”
Mion’s ears heard all as usual. He had not made mention of Síocháin’s complaints or the colleges as yet, so there was at least some hope she’d not spend the evening hearing his thoughts on that decision. Perhaps, she thought, they would be short thoughts. He had as little love for the colleges and their fanatic devotion to the Sisters as she did.
“A shame about the south,” he said, taking a wine cup from the boy as he returned. “I hear they’ve already sworn in a new—”
A cup clattered against the floor and a roaring screech filled the room. All sound drained away as Rianaire whipped to see the commotion.
Gadaí stood over Síocháin, eyes bright with madness and rage. She croaked words that Rianaire did not know, angry words. Inney bolted from Rianaire’s side as the satyr’s arm came back. The half-Drow shoved Síocháin away, planting herself before the blow. It came hard, spittle raining from Gadaí’s mouth. Inney doubled at the shoulder but kept her footing. More angry words in some strange tongue. Loud, whipping pops sounded against Gadaí’s legs and she buckled, coming to her knees and finally clutching at her throat, the hate in her eyes turning to desperation. She reached out at the air and Inney backed away. Rianaire began toward them, eyes moving from Gadaí, who lay dying on the floor to Síocháin who stood calmly, watching the life drain away.
“What have you done?”
The words were ghosts. Síocháin looked at her finally as Rianaire came over Gadaí’s body.
“I have done what I must. For all of us.”
Rianaire screamed, losing herself among it all. “What
