Chapter 26 - The Nut That Holds The Bow
Submitted by Char on Fri, 01/01/2010 - 8:50pm
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Stevane
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I settle into position in a new room that's mostly desk area, wall charts and maps, and a lot of papers that I'd love to have a chance to sort through. Everything has the feel of carefully guarded information and secret operations. Sadly, I'm not in a position to peek right now, and the Kommissar has his eye on me at all times.
"So... you won't know any proper Lyiannethe songs, then?"
I stare at the Kommissar like he's grown a third arm.
His grin twists up, marring the stern disapproval on his face. "No, I didn't presume to expect your education would be anything but sheltered and insular. I will have to make do with something else, then." He starts to ponder what music to request as I sit on a stool with the violin perched under my chin.
I scowl, then strike the bow across the strings. The fingering I produce is off, I know - I never bothered learning this tune properly. I doubt his ear is trained enough to tell the difference. It's certainly enough to get a rise out of him - it's one of the older tunes from Lyiannethe proper. Very traditional. After a few bars, he claps his hands softly. I continue playing - he's not signaled me to stop. And damnit, even if it's not on a dulcimer and it's one of those stuffy Lyiannethe songs Jhe h'Lete made me learn, I like to play. It's just a shame I'm playing all half-assed. I hate Lyiannethe music. It's all stuffy and it resists embellishment. Even beyond that, I can't play anything truly free while wearing this collar. So I'm sad that this is a short jaunt - it finishes soon on a bittersweet note.
I fix him with my gaze. "We are taught to entertain all manner of cultures at the Poet Hall. Jhe h'Logos insists on teaching a vast repertoire of music from his homeland. I can easily entertain you using such a limited musical palate, if that is what you wish."
His face sours. "There's no need for such a tone. Certainly I wish it - if I had any need for Rhivend's mewling, Radia's cacophony, or any other sort of tune, I'd request them of you instead. Now - get to playing and making yourself useful." There's a weird sort of anger captured in his posture, and I'm not sure what incited it other than my attitude.
I shrug, then sort through my mental music sheets. I'm not going to make my butt all sore perching on a stool all day without playing something I'll actually halfway enjoy. The Kommissar will probably fancy the more traditional stuff, unfortunately - which is a real shame, since in the more recent years some very upbeat stuff's come out of this Empire. The upbeat stuff's from outside of Lyiannethe, though - from the areas that Jhe o'Audiva Rocale resided near. He probably got as tired of the old-old music as Jhe h'Lete once admitted he was. Lyiannethe proper doesn't look favorably upon change, if the music that comes out of it is any judge. Ugh. My Daddy has better taste in music than them, and I can't get him to listen to anything that's come out in the last five years for more than two minutes.
Fine. I pick a dancing tune that's almost halfway chipper, but still well up in years. Everybody likes dancing, after all. Later on in the set I bet I can shake things up. By then I'll probably have stretched this collar's binding a bit, too. Now that music's under my fingers and in my ears, I have a much better feel for just what this collar's boundaries might be.
It's as I'm doting on that question, and feeling the lines of tension that run through the binds around me, when a man I do not recognize walks in. He's slender, built like a fencer, and has bronze skin and short red hair. He has a goatee. He's got some papers in his hand and looks all set to talk to the Kommissar about them. Then he glances up at me, his eyes widen, and the hand gesticulating with the rolled-up papers falls to his side limply.
I try not to look at him like he's an idiot. That's not really getting me too far these days. I'm pretty sure my attempt isn't entirely fruitful, however - at least I have my music functioning as a shield. Maybe he'll think this is my violin face. He's still making his retard face, though - maybe he's just not used to seeing a Poet that isn't chained to a wall here?
The Kommissar's making a strange sound - like he's choking or something. I feel pretty happy about that, with a side of guilt for not getting off my stool and giving first aid. I mean, I can't just watch some guy die right in front of me, can I? The thought seems oddly appealing to me, and then I remember that I'm already due to have my Arms, and it makes more sense. It's going to be a reality soon, though - the new guy isn't giving the Kommissar so much as a glance. He's still staring at me like Gerude did when puberty set on and I grew a pair of breasts - part horror, part confused intrigue.
The Kommissar coughs. Aww, damn, that means air's getting through. No, wait, that's not a cough. Close. The sound resolves itself into laughter. Cruel, delighted, uncontrollable laughter.
I try to play through it, mostly to show I'm above all of whatever's going on, but the feeling that I've been part of somebody's joke rankles me. I keep watching the man who just walked in - he's staring at the Kommissar with an incredulous face. He looks back at me again with the face of someone who's looking at an old friend, or an old... something-else. He shakes his head, takes a step closer-- then rethinks that and takes two steps back.
The Kommissar's laugh is a bark. "Enough, enough." He walks forward, shaking his head. "She won't shoot you, Calyx. She can't. She's not Armed."
Like Hell I'm not Armed-- I cut the thought short before it goes any farther.
Calyx studies me, puzzled. "What do you mean she's not--" he cocks his head. Then he laughs - a weak sound, a sound of relief, not humor. "Oh dear. You've played a joke on me, haven't you? The resemblance is incredible, but Letitcia was much taller. Nice setup with the stool - it hid that fact for long enough to fool me."
I've stopped playing. "You knew Letitcia?"
Calyx looks over to the Kommissar, whose face has regained a touch of its hardness after that brief moment of mirth. The Kommissar nods to him, the motion a brief jerk of chin. Calyx then looks back to me. He sketches a formal bow. "Princess Stevane, I presume?"
I cough. "If you're trying to call me a princess, then you're presuming too much."
He laughs, and this time it's a sound of true delight. "You are like her, then. Yes, I knew your elder sister Letitcia very well during her time here." I'm not doing a good job at schooling my expression, because he picks up the confusion immediately. "Oh, they may not have told you much about her doings here. I'm not sure how much they even really knew--"
The Kommissar coughs into his fist.
"--but that's beside the point. Your sister and I were... friends, yes? We were all friends, way back then." Calyx smiles at me, hands clasped behind his back. "Let's just leave it at that."
I glare at him, eyes narrow. I don't believe a damn word he said just now, but I wasn't even alive yet back when Letitcia disappeared from Radia. Father never tells me about her, and everyone else is difficult to mine for information as well. Even Unkie steers the conversation into a tangent when I try to go there. It's frustrating, because Letitcia, even if she vanished without a trace, is my one true sibling. All of my siblings share the same Father, but only Letitcia and I had Tia as our Mother. When you're a daughter of the Void, of the well of Chaos in this world, sometimes you wonder if anyone else can really understand what it's like. I always thought Letitcia and I would at least see eye to eye on that.
Besides, I always insisted to Daddy that I had a twin, somehow, somewhere, and Daddy always just kept telling me no, and for all the gall he had I knew he was lying! Now I know the truth. "So she was taller than me, but otherwise looked the same? And she could play violin too?" I blink. 'And she was Armed' is not a question I ask aloud. How did Letitcia go missing at all if she was Armed? Diyn can track Arms, right? Given that they were Arms that were actually awakened, unlike mine.
And I don't ask the other obvious question of Calyx: 'And you were fucking her, right?' Because that one is really obvious.
Calyx smiles, cocking his head. "All true. Boss, is there some purpose you had for keeping one of the Judge's daughters in our workplace, besides to trick me?" Such a weighted question. "And are you sure she's not Armed?"
The Kommissar snickers. "Calyx, if that girl was Armed, she would have put up a real fight by now. Since when does an Akribastes kid know subtlety? No, no, that last part was in jest, I know there are many exceptions to that one. Still, I've tracked all of the Judge's children. This one hasn't shown any sign of being Armed, other than visiting her boyfriend in the Armed Hall every now and then." The Kommissar chuckles; I just blush. Well, I'm sure he thinks it's a blush. It's more contained fury. "She barely lives a moment outside the Poet Hall - I think her little jaunt here must be the longest escape, yes? What Armed stays near Poets that long?"
Calyx snorts. "Point taken."
"To answer the first question... she's assisting us." The Kommissar beams. "The Lady Queen has enjoyed her pet Poets so much, spying on me at any given opportunity. If we keep our own pet Poet, we can operate in secret. As Lady Thelea is currently keeping Jhe Stevane's brother as her own pet... I think you'll find the girl quite motivated to perform." He turns that chipper smile upon me. "Now, play. I want to hear music at all times." He claps his hands twice to spur me on.
I grimace, then draw the bow across the strings. "Any requests? And if I may make a suggestion: If you're looking for blocking music, playing the Queen Mother's homeland songs won't suffice. That'll only be more conducive to her eavesdropping. I can suggest something more appropriate."
The Kommissar appears intrigued by this suggestion. "Do go on."
I crook my fingers a little differently, then angle the bow at a more jaunty degree. "You want to play something that repels her so much that she won't even want to bother wondering why you're listening to it." And with that, I strike up an old Rhivendish dancing tune that Elric taught me.
When the Kommissar curses, I grin. I catch Calyx stifling a laugh. Still, no one tells me to stop. In fact, I've apparently devised the trick that gets me ignored - they get to work and cease talking to me. Nice. I take the chance, while unmonitored, to poke at my collar binds. Hah! As I thought, they're weakening quite a bit. Figures. The Xaillyndessen hate the Rhivendish so much that the Rhivend music itself is enough to dissuade their devices from working properly.
Their work, whatever it is, proceeds quickly. I try to get a good look at it, but I'm stuck on the stool. It's mostly reviewing all of those interesting-looking papers they have there. Hm. I wonder if I can distance-read those things? This collar's so weak right now that I might have a chance. They're ignoring me extra hard because of the music, so it's the perfect opportunity. I do a little mental stretch and sort of unfocus my eyes. It's like scrying, so you've got to relax your mind a litt--
Is the little girl listening? I almost jump out of my seat. Who was that? I almost look around, but stop myself. I don't want to draw any attention from the other two people in the room. Oh, don't worry, little girl. You'll meet us soon enough. A voice chimes between my ears, the jangling sound discordant. It makes every one of my vertebrae feel a tiny bit out of place.
What the hell was that?
Oh, you'll soon learn. I have you marked. Don't doubt my words - I have you marked like an arrow marks a swan. I can feel it aiming at me. Damn. What is that? It seems so big, like some hulking beast - not in here, though. Somewhere in the building, probably. I must have brushed across it while trying to scry. Damn collar, it threw off my accuracy.
Oh, your Aim is true. I long for it. I wait for it. There's an ominous cackle that echoes through my bones.
Weird. I sort of recognize it. What the hell? Now I'm just getting annoyed, and sort of angry.
"Excuse me? Miss Stevane is lost in her music, I suppose." There's the droll tones of the Kommissar, breaking me out of my trance. He looks impatient. "Awake, are you?"
"Uh, yes."
"That Rhivend music must make you even more stupid. Come, now. We're moving our little operation now that our little test is done with." He walks, waiting for me to follow. I stay on my stool for a bit before climbing off. I want to jam the bow in my hand right between the Kommissar's shoulderblades and out of his chest, and right now I feel like I could. There's a rage around me that, for whatever reason, I can't check. The Kommissar doesn't notice. That's good, because I'm pretty sure my Arms are nearly triggered, and I don't want him figuring out that I really am an Armed trainee. I suppose I do have Jhe h'Lete to thank for that - all that having to watch him in the Poet Hall instead of being in the Armed Hall and training has probably saved my life.
I walk, and Calyx follows me at what I observe is a safe distance. Interesting. Even after the Kommissar's assurances that I'm not Armed, Calyx is still pretty wary of me.
Well, that just makes him smart. In a way it mollifies me - at least someone in this room recognizes me as a threat! We proceed. The collar's still weak, at least. I can tell because I have a very bad premonition about wherever we are headed. Even more than that, though, I sense that beast I felt earlier drawing near - and that makes my spine feel all out of line again, makes my stomach feel like it's lined with thistle. I grip my violin as if it were the weapon I really wanted. Whatever's ahead, it's approaching fast - big and dark and unavoidable.
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