As the soldier spoke, a knock sounded at the door and two brown-hooded servants entered, delivering a trolley of food and drink for the evening meal. Ronon gave the servants a measuring stare and smiled. "I don't think that will be a problem."
Chapter Five
The setting sun threw a golden glow through the hexagonal windows of the Sword Gallery. The light glittered off the aged steel of a hundred ceremonial blades where they hung in glass cabinets, suspended on spun wires so thin that from a distance the weapons appeared to be floating in the air.
The Magnate glanced up at the sound of Erony's footsteps on the marble flooring and he gave her the slightest of frowns. Her father was taking a schooner of blackbrandy and a pipe while Vekken and one of the senior generals talked him through the day's conflict results. The Magnate liked to have his briefings held here, in the museum quiet of the colonnade. Erony imagined her father thought it a subtle way of reinforcing his own reputation with a blade; but in all honesty, he hadn't used a weapon in anger for years. She recalled the last time with exact clarity; Lord Daus had run through an assassin disguised as a wine waiter. Vekken's agents later determined the interloper was some sort of dissident from the farmlands. She didn't remember the details of the dead man, just the slam of the falling body echoing through the Chamber of Audiences. Vekken stepped back to allow her to approach her parent. Yes, with Vekken never beyond arm's reach, she doubted the Magnate would ever need to touch the hilt of his sword again. The Wraithkin adjutant was as swift as he was disquieting.
Despite herself, Erony's gaze flicked to the largest of the cabinets, just behind her father, just for an instant. Inside there was a curved scimitar broken around two thirds of the way down the length of the blade. She knew the runes and tracery along it like she knew the lines across her own palm. Her mother had perished with that sword in her hand, cut down in some nameless forest on some nameless planet. The body that had returned was of an elderly, frail lady, not the vibrant and imposing woman that had left her daughter waving goodbye at the lip of the Circlet. In darker moments, Erony wondered what manner of death her mother had delivered to the Wraith that took her life force. She hoped it had been a painful one.
"Daughter," Daus inclined his head.
"Father," she returned. "A moment, if you please?"
The Magnate nodded, the implied order sending Vekken and the general away, off toward the windows and out of earshot. "What is it, child? Speak to me."
"Today's display…" Erony began haltingly, "the outcome raises conflicts in my thoughts."
"You doubt my wisdom in this matter?" Her father's voice held a faint note of reproach.
"I question the presence of the Atlanteans there. Was it necessary? It brought only discontent, among our own cadres as well as in theirs. The incident with the Runner… It might have been avoided."
Daus drew on the pipe. "You are your mother's daughter, Erony. You have so little artifice." He chuckled. "It pleases and saddens me in equal measure to see her reflected in you."
Her lips thinned at the attempt to deflect her. "Father," she said again, "I would know your thoughts if I am to understand the reasoning behind today's events."
He placed the pipe on a stand and sipped the blackbrandy. "To rule, one must know the color of a man's heart, one must understand the truth behind the pretty words that would-be allies bring to our table. These outworlders take the measure of us and we must do the same. I brought Sheppard and his party to the war to watch their reactions. How they view us shades how we will deal with them."
"What did you learn?"
Another dry chuckle. "That the gallant Lieutenant Colonel is, under all his weapons and wargear, just a commoner at heart. And too, that he and his splinter think us too harsh and ruthless."
"What value is there in that? Surely we should court them, make Sheppard think well of us."
Daus waved her into silence. "No. We are Halcyons, we do not hide what we are. Let them understand the truth of our society. There is no point in obfuscation."
Erony was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, it was difficult to keep the taint of accusation from her words. "Is that why you sanctioned Palfrun's petition for the Hounds?"
"He made the request in good order. What would you have had me do?"
"Deny it," she retorted. "In such a small skirmish, over so trivial a matter as an argument over, what was it? A gambling debt, or some such? In other conflicts, on other days you would have dismissed Palfrun's petition out of hand. Why not today?" She shook her head. "It was unwarranted."
"So you challenge my interpretation of the codes of conduct, is that it? You wonder if allowing the use of the Hounds was a fair ruling?" He shifted and sipped more drink from the schooner. "I am Lord Magnate, my dear. The codes are mine to direct as I see fit. I make the rules, Erony. Never forget that."
She colored. "I have not. But I must ask you why. Please explain it to me."
"If any other made that demand of me, I would have them dispossessed on the spot and flogged in the square." Daus put down the glass. "But to you, I will give an answer. It is simply this; today it was my desire to test the mettle of these Atlanteans, to cut to the core of them. Are they worthy of Halcyon's friendship? Have they the same steel in their bones as we do?" He looked away. "I believe I found them wanting."
"If that is so, then why are they still here?"
The Magnate gave his daughter a heavy-lidded glare. "Because they may be of some use to us. Kelfer has searched his records for any scraps of intelligence on these men from Atlantis. He has found reports to corroborate their claims about the Precursor City, of conflicts with the Genii and their many battles against the Wraith. It is possible they have knowledge that can be of use to the Fourth Dynast."
"Knowledge," Erony repeated bleakly. "You refer to…"
"Our `problem'," said Daus. "Sheppard's people may be able to assist us."
She frowned. "Why not simply ask them, father? Sheppard spoke of making formal treaty between us, would not this be a firm step toward such a partnership?"
"Halcyon has no partners, my dear, only equals or lessers, and these Atlanteans do not appear to be the former. I will not reveal our dilemma openly! That would be tantamount to bearing an open throat to a wildcat. No." He shook his head. "For now we watch and appraise them. I expect you to be most prudent in this." The Magnate took her hand and held it. "Our Dynast keeps Halcyon stable, Erony, it always has. We must maintain our dominion for the good of our world, our people. You know that to be true."
"I do," she replied.
Her father smiled. "Good. Your mother would be so proud to see you now, strong and regal, doing what is right for our planet. It fills me with joy to know you stand at my side in this."
"I do," Erony repeated the words, her eyes focused on the broken sword.
"Can we discard these cloaks yet?" said Ronon. "This cloth irritates me."
Sheppard resisted the urge to scratch his neck where the rough-hewn robes rubbed at his skin. "Just drop the hood. We can't chance being seen by one of the nobles or their men. Not yet, anyhow."
Ronon looked around. "I don't think we're going to run into any high class types down here, do you?"
The colonel followed Dex's gaze. He had a point, Sheppard had to admit. The narrow streets of the lower city were grim and more than a little stinky. It was a far cry from the perfumed halls and elaborate decor of the High Palace. John glanced up over his shoulder and saw the tall towers and minarets of the Magnate's complex rising over the roof slates of the tumbledown apartment blocks and factory shacks of the metropolis. The palace looked even larger from down here, and he didn't doubt that was the way the nobles wanted it, casting a subtle oppression on the common folk just through the size and shape of the massive building.