The Seanchan Spy

[Eidolon]

Kasimir Nevaren

Kasimir didn’t remember falling asleep in his father’s chair, but when he woke there was sunlight streaming through the windows. He jolted, the dagger entwined loosely in his fingers finally slipping from his grasp. Damn. He sat up to see Jahzara grinning at him as she cleared up the remained of last night’s … intrigue.

“And you looked so sweet, Kaz, with that drool hanging from your lip.”

He scowled and ran his hand over his mouth, though found it dry. His sister giggled.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night? Papi won’t come out of his room, and mother has a face like thunder this morning. No one tells me anything. Just ‘clean this, Zara’ and ‘clean that.’  I don’t see why we can’t hire in help like everyone else.”

“You’re a kid, Zara. A kid that does too much nosing and not enough cleaning. That’s why no one tells you anything.” 

“Yes, but I’m your little sister. If I can’t count on my big brother to tell me what’s going on, who can I count on, huh?”  She looked at him with wide black eyes, her lips pouted.

Kasimir smirked, flipping the dagger from the floor and back into his grasp. The cool metal glinted between his fingers before the blade was back in its sheathe. He crossed his legs, resting back into the cushions of the chair, and lay his arms along the plush armrests. One brow quirked at his sister, but he kept his mouth shut. Let her stew.

Jahzara blew the dark hair from her face and scowled, scrubbing hard at the floor. Her knuckles were white.  "Just look at all this blood. Don’t try and tell me Papi cut his hand, because I won’t believe you.”

“Damn bloody right he didn’t.”

“Language! Light, you speak like you’re from the Rahad!” She stopped scrubbing, and raised her brows. Clearly she was waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t answer she sat back on her heels, dark eyes flashing with a look she had inherited from their mother. “Well, I know one thing. You’re in big trouble, Kaz. And you’ll be in even more if Papi finds you in his chair.”

Kasimir’s body jerked as though suddenly discovering he’d been sitting on a nest of vipers, and he leapt to his feet, Zara laughing mercilessly. Wicked girl, he thought, his brow tightening to a frown. He straightened himself up with a quick brush down his front, glancing at his sister from the corner of his eye, his lips pursed into a thin line.

“You missed a bit.” Three swift strides took Kaz from the room, and he gave a pleased laugh when he heard Jahzara huffing loudly behind him.

The hallway beyond was cool and dim and windowless. It seemed to focus his thoughts, that dim, as he recalled to himself what had happened the night before. It what as if from a dream and the face of the Seanchan woman was blurring in his mind, if her name was burned in his mind. Malaika. He rubbed his head, running dark hair through his fingers. The grogginess of having just woken was still on him, and he was hungry besides. Famished even. When was the last time he had eaten?  His stomach gurgled protest, and he remembered that there was usually left-over cold meat and cheese in the cellar…

But his impromptu breakfast wasn’t to be. Barely two feet from the door, a voice called down the hall.

“Boy, is that you?”

Kasimir sighed, his footsteps falling still on the carpet. Sometimes he envied his eldest sister, Kataria, for having married out of the family already. Burn the man, but he treats me like I’m twelve! At his age he could have been married himself, of course, and even have children of his own to boss about and make miserable, but Light be damned if he wanted to get stuck with some domineering Ebou Dari who’s knife was bigger than the sense in her head. If only I hadn’t gotten bloody well hauled back from bloody Arad Doman! He scuffed the floor with his boot, sighing heavily in his chest.

He could leave of course; turn his back, ignore the call. But he wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. Burn the man, bloody well burn him!

“Coming, father.” The words were hollow and formulaic. And burn me too!

Chakai was in his room - the room he spent hours in, his Seanchan room. The armour Kaz had stolen had been replaced on the stand and gleamed to a new shine, like a great insectile god upon its raised plinth. His father faced it, looking up as he often did, and though he could not see his face Kasimir knew he would be frowning and deep in thought. Remembering, maybe, though what Kaz could not say.

He felt like a child again, loitering in the doorway, and hated every second of it. But reminding himself otherwise didn’t seem to ease the knot in his stomach. Fear or anger, or maybe both. He knew what the man had to say; the lecture, the admonishment, the declaration of disappointment. Oh, he had been here before. And yet, for now, the room remained strangely silent…

His father had always had his crutch, but he did note (to a point of self-satisfaction) that while the long ebony cane was as strong and beautiful as ever, the man who depended upon it was beginning to shrivel. Despite it, Kaz still felt that familiar militant strength from him; the tough, unyielding core that had bore down him ever since he was old enough to walk. The memories bubbled up, stoking a fierce temper within, but he forced it down to a simmer.

Chakai finally turned, resting his weight greatly on the cane. He was slower, more stiff than usual. Clearly the fall from last night had effected him. And yet even now the man insisted on having no seats in his room. Protocol before comfort, he would always say, though Kaz would be dammed if he knew what that meant.

“My only son…”

“It’s just armour, father. Metal and gilding--”

“--memories!”

A short, frustrated sigh steamed from Kaz’s nostrils. Memories, secrets, lies!  “You want to speak about memories, father? Who was she, last night?  Mal--”

“--Do not. I warn you!”

“Or what? Father, look around you. We are not in Seanchan. This stuff, it all means nothing to me! You speak of honour and sei'taer, and yet you hoard your memories and your secrets, then expect me to give a damn. Well I don’t. I really, really don’t.”

Chakai’s face had gone very white and his hand trembled upon the cat-like head of his cane. His eyes and expression were vivid with emotion, but it all appeared too convoluted to decipher. Kaz noted too late the rings of sleeplessness and the red glaze to the whites of his eyes. Afraid. The word popped into his head. Sad.

He blinked and the anger died as quickly as it had inflamed.

… had he jumped to conclusions? He was about to push his luck; ask again about the woman in the sudden hope for answers, but before he could make up his mind Chakai’s face had turned, and when it looked back it seemed to have reanimated itself in stone. His father’s lips were pursed, the teeth grinding within.

“You will get out of my sight, boy. You will get out of my sight, now.” The words were spoken with immeasurable calm; but it was a calm that sent an uneasy chill down Kasimir’s spine. This is not just about the armour, he realised. And I have just made things ten times worse.

"Tell me, father. Tell me who she was..."  Kasimir's voice was soft, and he realised that he, too, was talking of more than he appeared.  All the secrets...  He just wanted to know - the answer itself was not even that important. He could let it drop like that, never mention it again if that's what was asked of him. Light, he just wanted his father to confide in him, to share the burden he had carried since leaving Seanchan all those years ago.

But Chakai's face remained unchanged. He breathed in, sucking up all the anger and frustration, so that his voice was steady when he spoke. "Leave, boy. You will leave."

Kasimir's hopes sank, and something within him hardened to mirror the expression of his father. This conversation was done.