“By your Oath?” shouted the other degan. “By your Oath? You mean the thing you broke when you drew steel on Iron? When you killed him? The thing you threw away when you tossed your soul and your sword in the dust? And now you want us to hear you swear on your Oath?”
I reached up over my shoulder and drew Degan’s sword. Stone lowered his stance and growled.
“No!” I said, quickly switching it so I held the blade at the forte, below the guard. “Look. I need to get in there. To bring this to him.”
Stone’s eyes went wide, but his stance stayed deep. “Where did you get that?”
Gold was still going at it on the other side of the door. “You threw away this Order when you threw away your blade,” he said. “You cast away your honor with your steel.”
There were ominous grumbles and shouts of agreement.
“Where the hell do you think I got it?” I said, trying to peer around the degan. “He gave it to me.”
“Bronze?”
“No, the fucking emperor. Of course Bronze!”
I could hear Brass trying to say something, trying to come across as calm. No one seemed to be having any of it.
Stone lowered his sword a bit. “Why? Why give it to you instead of bringing it before the rest of us? It could only help him in there.”
I thought about what Degan had told me, about what it would mean if his fellows found out I was under Oath to him, let alone what I knew about the Order of the Degans. About how there might not even be time to say, “Wait” before the sword fell.
I thought about it all, and then threw it away.
“He gave it to me because it holds my Oath to him, dammit, and because I know all about your Order’s dance over the emperor.” I swallowed and held the sword out farther. “He gave it to me because he didn’t want the rest of you to know I was yours for the asking.”
Stone blinked.
I could hear Gold clearly now, addressing the room as only a man can when he knows he owns it, body and soul. “Can we trust the word of any man-even Bronze Degan-when he’s willing to cast so much and so many aside? When he’s already stained his honor so?”
I held my breath as Stone reached out and ran a finger lightly along the flat of Degan’s blade. As he looked up and met my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter if he killed Silver or not,” said Gold. “Or if Steel did the things he claims. I don’t care if Ivory gave Bronze his sword with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. None of those things matter.
“What matters is that Bronze killed Iron. Not for the Order, not for Ivory, not even to rescue the laws-but for the simple fact that Iron stood with the empire, and Bronze stood with the emperor. Everything else came later. In the end, he killed Iron because-”
“Because,” I said as I pushed open the doors and strode into the hall, Degan’s sword held above my head and Stone Degan at my back, “he was under Oath to me, and the only way for him to keep that Oath was to fight Iron.” I walked across the room and up to Gold and stared straight into his cold gray eyes. “Bronze fought Iron because it was the best and only way for him not just to honor his agreement with me, but to protect the empire as he saw it. He did it to honor his Oath, not betray it. And I repaid him by clicking him from behind and taking Iron’s sword. So if you want to talk to anyone about breaking their Oath, you should be talking to me, because Bronze has done nothing but honor his from start to finish-including letting you walk all over him so I wouldn’t have to face you.” I lowered my arm and shoved Degan’s blade and scabbard up against Gold’s chest. “Now give the man back his fucking sword and let’s you and me settle our business.” I was sitting outside on the steps to the courtyard, nursing the fresh bruise along my jaw, when Gold Degan came storming out of the keep. He stopped long enough to glare at me, then took a turn staring at Stone and Crystal Degan, who were standing guard over me. They stared back.
Everyone having gotten their share of eye contact in, Gold stalked off down the steps, Opal Degan close on his heels. Copper was nowhere in sight.
Well, so much for my making any new friends today.
I took that as a good sign.
I turned my attention back to my jaw and watched the entrance for any more signs of life.
The tribunal had gone to hell after Gold’s fist had connected with my jaw. Voices had been raised, hands had slapped hilts, and Degan had stepped forward, ready to both defend me and to try and clarify the twists I’d put in my story about him and his Oath. He never got the chance to do either. Before I knew it, Brass and a degan I later came to know as Lead had pulled me and Degan’s sword aside and put their heads together over the blade, while Stone had made it clear that anyone who came after Degan or me would have him to answer to. After a bit more muttering and steel touching in the corner, it was announced to the assembly that yes, indeed, I was under Oath, and no, it had not yet been honored.
A situation that was quickly put to right, at least to a small degree, by my ass being sat down in a rickety chair and me being compelled via Oath to tell the assembled-what? Onslaught? Revenge? I still didn’t know what to call a gathering of them-degans what had happened with Iron, and then later with Wolf and Ivory.
The story hadn’t pleased anyone. In fact, there seemed to be bits for almost everyone to dislike, but that hadn’t stopped the assembled swordsmen and — women from deciding that while they still needed to sit in judgment of Degan, they now had to do it in a different light. Another round of questions later I was thanked, dismissed, and escorted once more out to the courtyard, where I was amazed to find the sun not even halfway down toward the western horizon. This time, though, they made sure to keep a guard on me at all times while the Order conducted their business.
Now I sat and watched as degans dribbled out in pairs and groups. All told, I guessed there was less than two score of them, although Stone had told me that at least four hadn’t shown up. In the past the assumption was that they either were too far away to make it back in time or had Oath-related business to tend to, but with the rash of bodies of late, I got the impression that some members were being reminded of what it was like to truly worry about a brother’s or a sister’s absence. Degans, as Ivory had said, were hard to kill, but the difference between “hard” and “impossible” was being served up as a hard reminder.
Finally, Degan stepped out into the light, his sword hanging at his side. Brass was with him. When she saw me stand to meet them, she grinned and let out a chuckle.
“I’ll say this: You sure know how to make an entrance, Kin.”
“I’ve been spending more time than I like to admit around actors lately,” I said. “You pick things up.”
“Well, you picked them up well.” Brass turned to Degan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help in there.”
“You stood your ground like a degan,” he said, “and against Gold’s onslaught, too. That’s no small feat. I couldn’t have asked more of anyone.”
Brass tilted her head to the side and put a hand on Degan’s cheek. “Ah, that’s sweet of you to say so, but we both know you’re full of shit. I needed a Kin to kick down the door and save your ass when I couldn’t do it. That’s a failure in my book.”
“Maybe,” said Degan, “but I still consider us even for Yrenstone.”
“Oh, hell yes,” said Brass. “I’m not about to let you hold that over me any longer. Seventy years is long enough.” She turned to me. “It’s been a pleasure, Rapier. I look forward to our paths crossing again.”
She turned and glided away down the steps, her feet touching but not quite seeming to land on the ground. Stone gave me a wink as well and lumbered away. Crystal simply turned and left.
“So,” I said, turning back to Degan and eyeing his sword, “I take it you’re back in?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that while the Order decided I violated my Oath when I fought and killed Iron, they also realize that, with the actual laws before them for the first time in two-hundred-plus years, there might be extenuating circumstances they’ve forgotten about up to now.”