A Meeting by Moonlight
Perena, early RM 520
As a matter of course, Erlon Gilar maintained a number of clandestine residences in the various cities of Gallat, safe houses of a sort, to use when travelling on business and desiring to avoid social engagements. These were usually little more than rented rooms in the seedier parts of town, sparsely furnished, if at all, and uncomfortable, but over the course of his career, as his profile had ever so slightly grown, he had found them increasingly vital to the safe conduct of the Halyrate's business. Their existence was known only to a few, and their locations to even fewer, and Gilar took always great care to ensure that this remained so. So there was an understandable note of disappointment – though not of surprise – in his voice when, very late one cold night, he opened his door, walked into his darkened room and said without looking around, “Good evening, Aelis.”
“Good evening, Erlon,” came a cool voice from a corner. “You do favour gloomy accommodations. This doesn't suit you at all. Not at all what I expected. It can't be healthy for you.” A figure moved into the faint shaft of moonlight that was the room's only illumination, and revealed – of course – the form of Aelis Redas.
“No more than those suit you,” Gilar replied dryly – for Aelis had disguised herself, her hair covered in the eastern fashion and the rest of her swathed in a dull cloak. As disguises went, it was simple and effective – Gilar was mildly impressed despite himself. Amateurs usually overdid things, as Gilar himself had learned by painful experience. “What are you doing here, Aelis?”, he continued.
Aelis laughed her merry laugh. “So suspicious! Surely a girl doesn't need any particular reason to stop by her friend's for a chat.”
Gilar sighed and slumped into the room's sole chair. “We're not friends, Aelis.”
“Oh, you can be so cruel, Erlon. What are we, then, if not friends? We're hardly enemies, and we're certainly not strangers.” Aelis struck a pose of exaggerated thought for a moment before exclaiming, “Why, perhaps we're lovers!” She sat on the bed and caressed the sheets for a moment. “That must be it. I mean, we are here alone in your bedroom together in the middle of the night.” She sprang up again laughing, “Imagine the scandal if we were found out. The Houses would speak of nothing else for months.”
Gilar remained unamused. “We are professional acquaintances who have temporarily and unavoidably crossed paths, nothing more. Now, though you know how entrancing I find your company, it's late, and I'm tired, and I know you have a hard time understanding this, Aelis, but we creatures of flesh and blood do occasionally need to sleep, so all things considered I'd rather we skip the games. Why are you here?”
“And here I thought you enjoyed our games. If you don't want to play anymore, I don't know what I'll do. Life will be so boring.” She paused for a moment in contemplation. “I suppose I could come here one night and kill you in your sleep,” she said matter-of-factly. “That would provide a moment's diversion.”
Gilar barked a laugh now. “So much for friends!”
“Friends are honest with each other, Erlon. I could do that, just as you could right now take that knife on your belt, jump across the room and...” she drew a finger across her throat and grinned. “But I won't and you won't, because we don't want to harm each other, because we're friends. See, I told you so.”
“I am seriously considering it if you don't tell me why you're here,” Gilar sighed.
“I told you: to talk. You must have noticed that there's no one else in this blasted city worth talking to.”
“All right then, let's talk. Get it over with. But you didn't come to aimlessly chat, because you don't do anything without an aim, as I know perfectly well. Can I assume this is about the news from the south?”
“Well, since you've brought it up. The city is speaking of nothing else, after all.” She hesitated for a moment. “News, you say? Not rumours. So, it's definitely true, then? Javan and Nuvor are dead?”
“Gone, Aelis. The news says gone. And yes, it's true. The Faith got confirmation three days ago and military courier arrived this morning – don't ask me why the Faith has better intelligence than the government. Javan, Araldi, the High Ward, even Gabas: all gone.”
“Oh, but we all know what 'gone' means, don't we? Gone: Nahari for stabbed in the dark and the bodies dumped into the sea. It was a mistake to go south.” Aelis paused for a moment, then continued, “Wait, you aren't going to tell me you're one of those people who believes they've abandoned us for being sinful, or gone off to fight demons, are you?” Aelis chuckled quietly. “Why, a Satar told me this morning that Javan had gone into heaven to chase the Red Goddess, since there were no worthy Aitahists left to fight in the world. I know you respected him – we all have our flaws. But you know he was just a man. And men die.”
“Just a man, as you say.” Gilar sighed heavily. “You never met him, did you? Just a man, heh. You would not say that if you had.”
Aelis tutted her disapprobation. “Oh come, Erlon. We believe what we know, you and I, what we see. Leave the myth making to the rest of them.”
“What I see is precisely the point. I know him. Knew him, I suppose I should say. Not well, not like Araldi, but well enough. He's the one who saved me when I was a boy, did you know that? Pulled me out of the smoldering ruins of my parents' house in Selessan, three days after the Savirai burnt it down. I didn't know who he was then, of course, but I remember he seemed to be shining when I first saw him – like sunlight through a curtain, as though his flesh couldn't quite contain it all. I never forgot that. And the last time I saw him was in Sirasona, right before he left. He told me...” His voice trailed off as Gilar lost himself in memory, before continuing “Well, never mind what, exactly. But now that I think on it, he knew he wasn't coming back. I think he never intended to.” Gilar lapsed back into silent reverie for a moment, then shook himself out of it. “Anyway, I don't know if he was a Haradyr or a spirit or a demon, but I know that he wasn't just anything, and I'll believe Altaro Javan's dead when I've seen his cold body myself, and not before. But he is gone, that's clear. And with him went all his obvious replacements.”
“Are we in for some grand funeral games to decide the successor, then?”
Gilar smiled at the thought. “Heh, maybe we should do it that way. It's one way to be sure you wouldn't win.” He paused for a moment, as if unsure whether to proceed, then said slowly, “The news says that Javan designated a successor for Gallat just before he left. Nuvor. Not Araldi. Cousin Nuvor.”
Flatly “The boy.”
“Aelis,” Gilar chided, “he's older than either of us and seen more than both. He's hardly a boy.”
Aelis scoffed. “Ah, you forget: him I have met. And so I know that Caron Nuvor could live a thousand years and see a thousand worlds and still be a boy. It makes him a good soldier, but he'll be a terrible politician.”
“He suffers from too much sentiment, would you say?”
“Precisely!” Aelis announced triumphantly, before suddenly turning deathly serious. “Erlon, I never understood your attachment to Javan and Araldi, but now that they're dea- apologies, gone,” she corrected herself with small smile, “it's not holding you any more. You don't owe them any more.”
“There's still a Lord Nuvor. There's still a Gallat. It was never just about them.”
“It was a little about them. Just because they're gone doesn't mean you have to trust their successors to know what you should do. You're better than that. You could judge for yourself. You could do what you like.” Aelis hesitated for a heartbeat. “We could do it together.” She studied Gilar's face intently, waiting for a response.
Gilar snorted. “Be serious, Aelis.”
“I am!” she protested, as just for an instant disappointment flashed across her face. “Caron isn't made for this: the Houses will eat him alive. You know that. You shouldn't waste yourself on him.”
“So that's why you came here tonight. I'm a little disappointed, honestly. Doesn't feel like you, Aelis. Feels almost sentimental.” Gilar continued, resignedly, “But you are right about Caron. But the Houses? No, you mean House Redas, don't you? And that sounds to me like all the more reason to stay with Lord Nuvor – he'll need the help. And we've all seen what happens when the Houses run things. I told you: I can't stand aside and let that happen again.”
“They were stupid. We're not.” Gilar shook his head firmly, and Aelis sighed sadly. “Oh, my poor loyal hound. There's just no dealing with you when you get all self-righteous like this. Perhaps you're right, and I was foolish to try. Thank you for the conversation. I'll let you sleep.” She walked past the seated Gilar to the door.
“Aelis,” he called, and she turned expectantly.“I know about the shipment. I know why you want it. You shouldn't have taken the risk.”
“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. But if you were referring to a certain illicit shipment transported from Atracta this week by a certain Accan galley: well, I wouldn't know anything about it, and couldn't possibly comment on the motivations of those responsible.” Aelis was smiling again.
“No, of course not. Silly me. Then of course neither will you have any comment on the fact that right now said shipment is being seized and the smugglers arrested. It's a pity they won't know who hired them when we ask, but then we all have bad luck sometimes.” Gilar shook his head ruefully.
Aelis gave a delighted laugh. “Every time I start to wonder about you you go and do something interesting. I knew you enjoyed our games really. Don't pretend otherwise.” She paused one last time at the door and said, suddenly very quiet and with an oddly tender note in her voice, “Erlon, you've given them half your life already. Don't let them take the rest. They don't deserve it.” And she walked outside and closed the door behind her.
Gilar didn't sleep after that. Instead, he sat in thought in the dark room for a long time, before suddenly rising and striding purposefully outside.
