Grey Eagle - Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two days later Arion stood with Sharsa in a large building near the center of town. His uniform had been cleaned and pressed, and his boots had been returned. Arion had protested feebly, declining the uniform, but Sharsa had insisted, eager and excited. He had a surprise, he said, refusing to tell what it was, even in the face of Arion's growing apprehension.

They waited outside one of the rare doors, behind which lay the 'surprise'. "You still don't trust me, do you?" Sharsa asked, smiling.

Arion smiled briefly and dropped his eyes. "Sorry..."

"That's okay," he answered lightly, not caring. "It shouldn't take long now, and you can stop worrying."

Arion smiled weakly, not comforted. They stood silently then, Arion catching himself, wincing time after time as he tried to take a deep, calming breath. He started horribly as the door opened. Sharsa started to laugh, but stopped himself and smiled sympathetically instead.

"All set," said the venator in the doorway.

"This is it," said Sharsa, leading him in. Arion had expected many things, but not what he saw. The room was impressively large, allowing ample space in spite of a massive videcom.

On the screen was Ealdred Tovi. Arion halted in his tracks, dizzying... "Whoa there," said Sharsa softly, catching his arm. "Take it easy," he added softly, smiling.

"Oh, Sharsa..."

The technician was beckoning and Sharsa started forward into view. Arion glanced at him as he left, then back at the screen. He had never agreed to help, had never ceased denouncing Sharsa's use of the damats. Yet here he was - Doing what?

The sudden, overwhelming relief and gratitude flopped sideways into fear and distrust. Was he to be used as bait anyway? Or for leverage... The Ealdred had several counselors with him, and in the background were some pilots. Soren wasn't there.

"The first peace is always difficult," Sharsa was saying, "and misunderstandings make it even more difficult. We know so little about each other that mistakes are easy, unintended insults and a failed communication. But I believe I have someone here who can help both of us in that respect. Someone you and I both already trust."

"Who?" asked the Ealdred, unimpressed.

Sharsa looked at Arion invitingly.

Aviel, be with me. Don't let me blow it. Thy will be done. He lifted his head and walked slowly into view. "Ealdred," he said, dipping his head. "Sirs."

"Arion..." Ealdred Tovi breathed his name, viewing the dead. "But how?"

He shook his head, laughing softly, uncomfortable. "Long story." He frowned slightly, unsure what to say. "This meeting comes as... a shock for me, and I..." His frown deepened and he looked at Sharsa.

"It's okay, Arion," he encouraged him, his face bright and eager. "Say whatever you want. You'll say it all when you get home anyway."

He closed his eyes, stunned even now, then looked up at the Ealdred. He hesitated, daunted by the Ealdred s mounting anger. It was bad enough that he had exposed his disgrace in front of Silas, a total stranger, but Ealdred Tovi...

He dropped his eyes, chagrined as he realized everyone he had known, even Soren, would see what he had become. He glanced at Sharsa again, only to be met by patient eyes and a warm smile. He turned once more to the man he so deeply respected. "Sharsa... He's wanted me to.. talk for him, for a long time, but... He kept telling me he wanted to help, but I never believed him."

"You've been with him all this time?"

"No, I... To explain.. is hard. To understand is even harder. They... I don't like Sharsa's ideas, but..." He frowned and fell silent, at a loss for how to continue.

"How much of what he says is true?" asked the Ealdred.

He shook his head, smiling slightly, laughing softly, trying to ease the trickles of panic leaking from within. He was blowing it. "I wouldn't know. I don't even know what all he's told you. Raach said he has lied to me before, but he wouldn't say what. And Raach..." He laughed again, unhappy.

"Do you trust him?"

He wavered, looking back and forth between two realities... "No," he said at last, dropping his eyes once more. "But... He has consistently offered his friendship, with no encouragement from me. I don't want to be bait, but... It shames me to treat him this way."

"Do you have any specific reason to think that you would or would not be bait?"

Arion looked up at him, but his eyes were on Sharsa. "No sir. To both questions."

The Ealdred looked at him and nodded, the hint of a smile... "Thank you, Arion. We're all behind you."

He turned to Sharsa then, still suspicious, but no longer contemptuous. "It would seem," he said slowly, "that you are somewhat unique. A precious opportunity not to be wasted, but one to be dealt with cautiously. What can you tell me of his mistreatment?"

"I'm sure he can tell you more of that than I can," Sharsa said readily, taking the accusation in stride, "but I do know that it stemmed from the fact that he is a Cedrychad, and not because he's human. It came at the hands of one venator, a Rikshastikan Kirnaach who purchased him. He is very rich, but not as influential as he likes to think.

"I would have liked to have this conversation much sooner, but as Arion mentioned, he didn't trust my friendship, and refused my suggestions. As a result, I lost control of what was done with him. He was put up for sale and purchased by the Kirnaach."

"Purchased..." the Ealdred rolled the word out with controlled distaste. He nodded. "And where is he now? This Kirnaach."

"He's around, but not here with me. I.. purchased Arion from him. He has no viable claim in the matter anymore.

"He and I have different ideas. Some agree with him, some with me. But most are really somewhere in between, trying to decide. They don't want to die just for something to eat. If I can show them a better way, they will follow me, and Raach and his kind will have no choice but to go along."

He paused, seeking some sign from the Ealdred that he was being heard, being accepted. When he found none, he continued. "I would like at the very least to arrange a means of sending my friend home."

"At what price?"

Sharsa sighed. "No price. He likes me and I like him. I just want to let him go home. It wouldn't do him any good to dump him off on Lenis; that's not home and they wouldn't treat him any better now than they did before. I have been trying very hard for a long time to help him. I have complete say in what happens to him now because.. well, I own him.

"The first peace is always difficult. I worked hard for the right to talk to him when he first arrived, and I tried to convince him I wanted peace. I tried, and I failed. Now I'm trying again. If I fail now I will still try again. But Arion has been through enough. He deserves to go home."

The Ealdred paused, then smiled. "Well, I'm all for bringing him home. What do you suggest?"

Sharsa smiled, beaming at Arion, who smiled weakly in return. "Well, I am prohibited from inviting you to come here, as I think you can understand. Costly mistakes would be highly possible. So I thought we could arrange a rendezvous on Lenis."

"Our relations with Lenis are delicate at best. If we sent a small ship out to receive you, would that be acceptable?"

Sharsa smiled sheepishly. "I'm not a pilot, or I would. If I could find a pilot to take him, maybe... But you understand, we are somewhat distrustful ourselves."

He nodded. "What sort of arrangements on Lenis did you have in mind?"

"I rather thought I'd let you do that. You pick the spot, set it up, tell me, and I'll get him there. I already have two pilots that would agree to that."

He looked at Arion. "How does it sound to you? Are you ready to come home? Can you wait a few days more?"

He laughed softly, unable to answer. "...Ealdred?"

"Yes?"

"The people on Lenis," he said slowly, frowning, "they are human, sir. I never should have said they weren't."

The Ealdred frowned but nodded. "Anything else?"

He wanted desperately to tell him that Satan was loose, but the words refused to form and he felt as though he couldn't breathe. He was blowing it...

"Well, then. We have a lot to do. Arion, His Hand is beneath you. Sharsa, we will contact you as soon as possible."

"Good enough!" he answered cheerfully. The screen went blank. "Well," he said then, relaxing. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Arion laughed slightly and sighed. "More than you know. Can we go home now?"

"Home?" he asked, smiling, almost laughing. "That's going to take a couple of days, remember?"

"Please, Sharsa," he said frowning. "To the house." He was trembling, suddenly hanging onto his emotions with failing composure.

Sharsa nodded quietly, startled by his distress. They went out to the craft and traveled back in silence. When they reached the house, Arion fled to his room, curling in bed with the pocket pal, trying to lose his thoughts in the music.

Come dinnertime, Sharsa appeared in the doorway, listening quietly as Arion tinkered with the mythra.

"I want you to take that with you when you go," he said at last.

Arion looked up, pleased and grateful, though he still doubted the reality of his release. "Are you sure? You won't regret it later?"

Sharsa laughed. "I will miss watching you play, but I will not miss it. I picked it up especially for you. It's yours."

"Oh," he said smiling, startled. "I didn't realize... Thank you, Sharsa. It means a lot to me."

"I know. That's why I wanted to be sure you kept it. Come on. Dinner's ready."