I have had to endure yet another endless paean from the Batzar lauding my contributions to the security of ndian, despite this having been a particularly sedate year; perhaps their effusive praise is ant to remind people that I am terrifying in lieu of any real opportunities to demonstrate such.
It was not an entirely useless speech, however, because it gave cause to contemplate what exactly I am ant to protect. The obvious retort would be ndian, yet there is considerable nuance in that definition. The Batzar, for example, vacillate between asset and outright threat; one mont I am securing their position - and in the next, I must contemplate undermining it.
The Batzar, therefore, is not what I protect. I suspect that there is no one part of this country that I would not cut away from it if need be, for the reality of ndian ever falls short of the country I truly serve. That country has never yet been realized, and may never be. Yet it is ever-present in my thoughts.
My guess is that patriotism is this way for most n. It is ultimately a loyalty to myself, to my own vision of what might be that strives ceaselessly to escape the close confines of my mind and make itself felt upon the world. It could be called arrogance; I say it is the affirmation that my mind, my thoughts, and my life are worth marking upon the world.
- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 689.
Despite Antolins prediction, their approach to Goitxea was anything but rapid. First, they were obliged to spend most of the night traversing a series of locks that brought them to the straits central lake, and from there they were directed in a roundabout pattern that brought them to the naval port on the northern extent of Goitxeas coastline just as the sun was rising. At this distance, the towering spires of the citys downtown looked small and still in the morning haze, with no hint of the bustle that Michael knew surged around their base.
But as he directed his sight closer, crossing the imnse distance in the span of a thought, he saw the daybreak flow of people moving on foot or in ndians ubiquitous herd of vehicles. There was no desperation in this crowd, no hint yet of the panic that had gripped the continent to their south. It seed wrong, sohow, though he could point to no reason why a city this far north should panic. If the storm did reach them, then there would be little point to rushing around; there was no comparable city north of here that could hold so many refugees.
He sighed and let his sight drift back towards the boat, which was nosing gently alongside the pier. Officers and sailors milled about on the quay, and so few waited for the ship to dock-
Michael straightened up, blinking, as he saw Ricard waiting there on the docks. The old man was in a thick ndiko jacket, standing on his toes to peer up at the ships deck. A grin split Michaels face, and he jogged up to the cutters railing, then vaulted lightly over it to land on the dock. That maneuver drew a few reproachful stares from the ndiko sailors, but Michaels focus was entirely on Ricard.
The old mans face lit up as he saw Michael land, shuffling over as fast as his old legs would allow to wrap him in an embrace. Michael returned it with as much force as he dared. His life had been in flux for months, and in the past few days it had been troubleso even keeping himself moored to the present mont. With Ricard near, though, radiating a steady haze of love and pride, he felt as solidly present as he ever had.
What are you doing out here? Michael asked, pulling back to arms length and grinning. This was hardly a planned visit, I only knew I was coming late yesterday.
Ricards eyes twinkled. Your friend the Grand Marshal was kind enough to send word over the wireless that you were arriving. A pair of sailors ca around to pick up not long ago; Helene will be along before you leave again, she insisted on making you so food for the trip.
Of course she did, Michael laughed. Im glad I wont miss you two as I dash in and out. Were going to be- He paused, the weighty context of his visit intruding on his mont of happiness. We have to depart as quickly as we can, back to the south.
Mm, the ssage said that you had a task of grave importance, Ricard said. Which almost goes without saying, milord. It seems to that everything you do these days touches on matters of consequence. His eyes lingered on Michaels scarred face, his blank eyes. There was no sense of surprise from him as he studied the injuries.
Michael smiled, touching his fingers to his face. Thats not all the ssage said, Id wager; youre very kind to avoid ntioning how I look. Im surprised you were able to recognize .
It would take more than a haircut and so burns before I didnt know you, milord, Ricard sniffed. Still, the old mans face drew tight as he looked more closely, seeing extent of the damage. How are you holding up? he asked.
Michael smiled at him. Well enough. Honestly, I barely think about it anymore. My mind has been entirely on the storm growing in the south. Im trying not to let it weigh on .
Thats all we can do so days. Ricard patted him gently on the shoulder. We dont always have control over whats asked of us. We can only choose our answer.
It was harder than Michael expected to muster a smile at the comnt. Ricards eyes narrowed. I know that look, he said. You wore it every ti you ca back from one of those dreadful treatnts without a soul. I cant for the life of imagine what its still doing on your face.
Im concerned, Im allowed to be concerned, Michael protested. This isnt like not living up to so whim of fathers, Ricard. My failure here would an the death of millions. I dont plan to fail. That doesnt an that the consequence disappears. I promise you that I will do nothing but sit and relax once Ive dealt with this, but until then - I shall maintain an appropriate level of concern.
Apologies for saying so, milord, but - balderdash. Ricard glared up at him, softening the look with a fond smile. You will do your best, and you are the best. If you should fail, and the world should fall down around our ears, then it was simply ant to fall. But I dont think it shall. Its a stubborn old world, and has endured more than one powerful idiot throwing a tantrum. There are always good n who rise to stop them, and that is what you are. He reached out and squeezed Michaels hand. A good man. Your answer will be the right one, when the mont cos.
Ricards words rang like a bell in Michaels ears, suffused with a resonance that was more than re sound. It was an overtone that harmonized with what he felt from Spark, with the love and warmth that blazed from Ricard with every word. It was his conviction - his truth, Michael realized, for in the swirl of sensation and tumult that had followed Sofias death, he had nearly forgotten that among Sibyls gifts was that of the verifex, the ability to see - not rely truth, Michael realized. Sibyl saw that Ricards words were an extension of himself into the world, offering a glimpse of what shone within.
He felt a tightness in his throat, and stepped forward to fold Ricard into another hug. Thank you, he murmured. The two n stood in an embrace for a lingering mont, until the gentle thump of ropes on the dock announced the cutters arrival. n began to swarm around where they stood, and Michael once again pulled back with a smile.
I suppose its ti for you to get on with business, Ricard said.
Michael looked back at the cutter as its gangplank dropped, then turned back to Ricard. No need to rush, he said. I can catch you up on where Ive been- He paused, the image of his fathers frozen face staring at him from mory. Ah. I went to Ardalt, Ricard.
And? The old mans smile had slipped away with Michaels. Did you make it to Calmharbor?
I did, as a matter of fact. Michael paused. Father is dead.
Is he. Ricard looked thoughtful for a mont, then shook his head. Ah, well. I cant say Im surprised.
Michael blinked. Youre remarkably sanguine about it.
I knew what I was doing when I left him, Ricard said, looking up at Michael; his voice was calm. He needed help, and despised needing it. I doubted that he would find it in himself to ask. It appears that I was right. He raised an eyebrow. Are you sad that hes gone?
No - yes. Michael shook his head. Im not sure. Anyone dying should be sad. Ive looked at dead strangers - dead enemies, even, and felt so species of pity for them. It strikes as wrong that I should have felt so little seeing him there on the floor.
Ricard smiled, shaking his head. Thats only natural, milord. A stranger could be anyone, but you knew your father - I knew him even better, most likely. His smile faded. What sort of person he was. Am I wrong to guess that he died alone, in desperation, having driven away anyone who would have offered aid?
Michael swallowed dryly, licking his lips. Youre not wrong.
Because its not surprising. He was always going to die like that. That it is today and not next year, or the year after - that might have changed. But there were only three people who might have given him a different end than the one he found. He killed one of them, and the other two are right here. Ricard sighed, and for a mont every year of his age sat clearly upon him - then his eyes found Michaels once more. And the fault is with him, not either of us.
There was nothing more to say, after that, so Michael hugged Ricard again. When he pulled away, it was to make space for Sobriquet as she ca down the pier, sweeping in with a smile to embrace the old man.
He returned it with enthusiasm, eyes twinkling, then straightened his bulky coat. So glad to see the two of you again, Ricard sighed happily. ndian is a lovely country, and theyve treated us well, but were still Gharics in the end. A familiar face is very welco, especially yours.
Maybe when this is all over we can see about arranging a visit to Esrou, Michael said. How long has it been since either of you were back?
Ricard frowned. Helene went back - fifteen years ago, was it? Her mother had passed, and your father took her absence with such ill grace that neither of us so much as raised the subject ever since.
I rember that, barely. Mother was still alive, she was furious with him. Michael shook his head. I havent thought about that in years.
Perhaps we can go together, Ricard said, smiling. That would be lovely.
Michaels heart twisted, and he felt Sobriquets silent pang of sympathy. It would be lovely, but there would be no room for that in his life - not with Stellar lurking inside him, confining him to Leires palatial prison.
But he let himself imagine it, so as not to spoil Ricards mood, and put his arm around the other mans shoulders as the three of them began to walk slowly down the dock. Sobriquet ca to his other side, and he took her hand. He felt their touch keenly, and did his best to commit the feeling to mory such that it would never fade.
Yes, Michael agreed. That really would be lovely.
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