“And Nokolai hasn’t wanted to subsume Vochi. Are they worried it might make them throw submissives?”
“It’s not that intentional.” Cynna chewed on her lip while someone else called out two names and was answered by Isadora. “I’m not sure I can explain it, mainly because I don’t really understand. I think you have to be a mantle-holder to really understand. But usually a subordinate clan gets subsumed when the mantles mesh too closely. The dominant clan doesn’t do it on purpose. It just happens. Nokolai’s a good dominant for Vochi because their mantles don’t mesh. Same with Laban.”
Another name was called out. Isadora responded, then looked at Isen and nodded. “All of mine are accounted for.”
Lily’s voice dropped even lower. “And Leidolf meshes with everyone?”
“Leidolf just swallows,” Cynna whispered back. “Doesn’t matter if they mesh or not. Sooner or later, they subsume any subordinate clans. I think it’s the high-dominant thing. Their first Rho was high dominant.”
Two more names were called out. Pete responded loudly, then said much more quietly, “All of mine are present or excused.”
Rule had expected to hear that. It brought him no relief.
Isen spoke, his deep voice rumbling up as if it came from the soles of his feet, magnified by his barrel chest. “Group leaders! Are there any others missing from your groups?”
Silence answered him. Rule focused on his breath. In, out. Slow. Deliberate. Calm.
Isen held that silence for a long moment. The pulse in the mantle stayed steady…steady, but too fast. Not calm. When Isen spoke again his voice dropped to a low growl. “We are at war. We are at war with the Great Enemy. The Lady’s enemy. And we have been betrayed.”
There was a reaction this time. Not words, but a soft susurration, from dozens of indrawn breaths. A quivering in the air. Isen had named the stakes. War. Betrayal. He had told them there would be no clemency.
Isen flattened his voice. “I would speak first with the Leidolf Rho.”
Rule stepped out from his father’s side and moved to stand in front of him. He stood nearly a head taller than Isen. He looked into eyes shadowed by heavy brows set in a face carved by time and will into stone. His Rho’s face.
But now, tonight, he was Leidolf. “I greet Nokolai’s Rho.”
Isen moved his head in the barest token of a nod. Rhos did not dip their heads. That would suggest a baring of the nape. “I greet Leidolf’s Rho.”
Rule inclined his head the same fraction of an inch. “Leidolf agrees that this is a time of war. The loss of the object Cullen Seabourne has been working on could be a blow to all the clans.”
“Will you ask your people what, if anything, they know of this theft? Of this thief? Will you ask them here and now?”
“As a favor, and so that none here will be distracted by suspicions that take them on the wrong trail, yes. I will ask.” Rule continued to face Isen and spoke quietly. “Leidolf! To me.”
There were sixteen Leidolf at Nokolai Clanhome—the guards who took turns protecting Rule and Lily. Sixteen men who moved toward him with silent ease…and he felt them. That had never happened before. He hadn’t known it was possible, but he felt his Leidolf clansmen moving toward him. It was nothing like what he felt through the mate bond, a sure and certain sense of where Lily was. It was far more subtle, more like feeling the faintest wisp of a breeze on a hot day. Something stirred behind him, and he knew what it was, that was all.
He turned. He let his gaze touch each of them briefly, and he knew them. Knew them personally, yes, and of course the mantle recognized them. But for the first time, his knowledge and the mantle’s recognition blended into a seamless whole.
He knew them, and they were his. “Leidolf,” he said, his voice raised enough for Nokolai and the other clans to hear. “You will answer truly and fully now. If I have given you orders on some previous occasion which might cause you to withhold information or mislead or lie, you will disregard those orders. Do any of you have personal knowledge of this theft or of this thief?”
Some shook their heads. Some said no. A few did both.
“Have any of you spoken to someone not present tonight about Cullen Seabourne’s workshop?”
Most of them spoke their no aloud this time, firmly. So that Nokolai would hear. One didn’t respond. Rule’s heart gave a single hard thud in his chest. He controlled it quickly. “Scott. You didn’t answer.”
“I wasn’t sure how to answer. LeBron and I talked about it some. He’s not here.”
This time the relief was real and vivid. Rule turned to look at Isen. “LeBron died saving my nadia’s life. I can’t call on him to testify for himself, so I will speak for him. He did not betray Leidolf or our alliance with Nokolai. I so pledge on the honor of Leidolf.”
Isen didn’t react. Others did. Breaths sucked in, feet or bodies stirred. Rule could have made the pledge on his own honor. That he’d backed it by Leidolf’s meant it could only be disputed if Isen were willing to call Clan Challenge.
It was probably overkill. Rule didn’t care. LeBron’s name would be honored, not smudged by doubts.
Isen nodded again, a fraction more deeply—acknowledging a favor. “Nokolai accepts Leidolf’s pledge and thanks you for your help. Does the Leidolf Rho have further comment or questions at this time?”
“Leidolf has no more to contribute at this time. We are on your land. We acknowledge your rights and responsibilities in this matter.”
“Then I would speak with my Lu Nuncio.”
Rule had switched roles with his father many times now, going from Lu Nuncio to Rho and back. It had sometimes been tricky in the way that a puzzle can be, but never truly difficult.
Tonight it was.
The Nokolai Rho wished to take him out, use him, then stuff him back into the lesser role when it suited him? And do so publicly, demonstrating to all that Leidolf answered Nokolai’s bidding. That was…Rule drew a slow breath. That was entirely proper. When Rule first was thrust into the leadership of Leidolf, his Rho had spoken to him about the problems inherent in being Rho to one clan and Lu Nuncio to another. He had agreed that here at Clanhome he would be Lu Nuncio to Nokolai, not Rho to Leidolf. Tonight Isen had agreed to his assumption of the other role so he could clear Leidolf of complicity, but that did not abrogate their original agreement.
Isen had noted his hesitation. No doubt of that. Others might have as well. “I have thought of one thing Leidolf might do to assist. I would send my men to guard Toby, releasing more of your men to assist in other ways.”
“I accept your offer.”
Rule turned and gave quick instructions to his men. As they melted away into the crowd, he faced Isen again. This time he dipped his head low, baring his nape. “My Rho wishes to speak with me?”
Isen’s face held no emotion. “Change.”
TEN
RULE’S heart gave a single, frightened leap, but he obeyed.
The moon was new and hidden now behind the curve of the earth. It didn’t matter, not for Rule. Her song was as much a part of him as his pulse. He didn’t rush, not wanting to pull others into the Change with him. He listened and opened himself to moonsong, distant and muted and impossibly pure, and it slid through him like falling water. The earth answered easily, shooting up through him, and the two met and ripped the world apart, starting with his body.
The pain was instant and intolerable—and over, the memory of it lingering faintly like an afterimage of the sun imprinted on the retina. Then that, too, was gone. He stood on four feet in a world vastly different from what he experienced on two, his vision both expanded and contracted. Expanded, because wolves have a full 180 degrees of vision, compared to a human’s 100 degrees. Contracted, because wolves are myopic—unless something moves. That they’ll spot quickly even at a great distance, though the object itself may be an unidentifiable blur.