Sworn in Steel

Chapter Twenty-three

I stood there stupidly for a moment, staring at the other degan. Then I closed the door behind me.

“Get the fuck out of my bed,” I said.

Wolf met me halfway and sat up, but didn’t stand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I said.

“As it appears, waiting for you.”

“And Degan just happened to show up right outside my door while you were in here?”

“I’ve been waiting for a long time,” he said. “We need to talk.”

“You talk; I’ll sleep. Feel free to make up my side of the conversation in case you get bored. I recommend throwing in the occasional ‘fuck you’ on my behalf, just to keep things true to life.” I bent down and, after succeeding in not falling over, began undoing my shoes.

“For someone who just let the man we traveled over a month to find walk out the doo-”

“Hey,” I said, looking up from the tangled knot that was my left shoelace. “I didn’t exactly see you out there making the case to your sword brother. You’re the one who wants him back in Ildrecca so damn bad, why didn’t you come out and join us?”

Wolf shifted on the bed and looked away. “Now is not the time for me to confront Bronze.”

“How convenient for you,” I said, turning back to my shoes. To hell with it: I drew my dagger and sliced the of-

I fending lace away. The shoe loosened and released my foot. I sighed in relief. How many hours-no, days at this point-had I been on my feet?

I looked back over at Wolf. “How did you get in here, anyhow? I can understand Fowler looking the other way for Degan, but not you.”

“What kind of a bandit would I be if I couldn’t sneak into a room in an inn?”

“The kind that’s a hell of a lot better than most Draw Latches and Star Glazers I know back in Ildrecca. Fowler keeps a tight watch: How’d you get past it?”

“The Azaar do not move as other men move.”

“Maybe not, but they sure as hell seem to bullshit as other men bullshit,” I said, taking my other shoe off. Paradise! “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you telling me where you’ve been, let alone how you got into el-Qaddice?”

Wolf flicked a bit of dust from his caftan. “There’s not much to tell: A bey of one of the smaller military districts owed me a favor. He happens to be in el-Qaddice reporting to the mogul, and so I was able to arrange entrance. Why?”

I stood up and went over to sit on my travel chest, since it was clear Wolf wasn’t about to abandon the bed. “Because it would have been nice not to have to sing for our supper if you could have gotten us in,” I said, settling myself on the scarred wooden lid.

“The bey is not a patron of the arts, as is the padishah. My speaking in your favor would have hurt my own case.”

“And where were you before that?”

Wolf ignored the question and instead gestured at the closed door. “Why didn’t you follow him?”

“Degan?” I said. “Are you kidding? If he was going to be watching for one thing, it’d be me trying to tickle his shadow. He knows me too well, and is too good, to let that happen.” I didn’t mention that I also thought he deserved better from me, and that even if he didn’t, I doubt I would have been able to make it five blocks in the condition I was in.

Wolf grunted, clearly not convinced. “In that case, you’ll have to find him again. And persuade him.”

“Weren’t you listening? I tried to persuade him-he doesn’t want to come back. Hell, he doesn’t even want to get back into the Order; he’s more worried about saving it from the outside.”

“I heard,” said Wolf. “Don’t fool yourself. Bronze is a degan: In his heart, he burns to wear the sword again.”

“Well, his heart and his head don’t seem to be talking to each other right now.”

“Then you will need to find what his head seeks, so that his heart may follow.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” I began unbuttoning my doublet, hoping Wolf would take the hint. “Ivory and paper: no problem. I’m sure they’re both very fucking rare in a city filled with artisans and poets.”

“The ivory he seeks is.”

I reached up and rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my palms. This wasn’t going to end, was it? Fine: I’d play along, if only long enough to get Wolf out the door. I’d marshal and make the arguments about why it was hopeless later, when I was fully conscious.

“And what’s so special about it?” I said.

“The ivory he seeks did not come from a beast or a great fish,” said Wolf. “Nor is it something you’ll find hidden away in a chest: Ivory was a degan back when the Order was begun, over two centuries ago. He was our first archivist, and one of the architects of our brotherhood.”

“Wait,” I said, sitting up straighter. “A degan? Ivory Degan?”

“You think we’re only named after metals and their cousins?”

“Well, I-”

“You know nothing.” He took a deep breath. “Ivory helped write the Degan’s Oath, not to mention the Oath we exchange with our clients. He was the one who wrote the laws we follow, the one who shaped our initial pledge to the Empire, the one who kept our earliest records and traditions. He was, in many ways, the father of all who followed. And then he left.”

“Left?” I said. “Why?”

“There was a falling-out: Ivory became disenchanted, even disgusted, with the Order over time-something to do with theology and souls.” Wolf ran his hand over his silver-chased sword guard and shook his head. “What do we know of souls, eh? We’re swordsmen: Our calling is to free souls from their bodies, not debate their nature and purpose.”

I felt my ears perk up at this, despite my exhaustion. Souls were at the center of not only the Imperial Cult and the emperor’s ability to continually reincarnate as Markino, Theodoi, and Lucien; they were also the secret behind the devastating power that was Imperial magic. Where other magicians relied on scraps of magical energy that slipped through from someplace called “The Nether” or, in the case of the most accomplished, established a direct tap to the power source, imperial Paragons somehow drew and focused that same magical energy using their souls. As I understood it, this was damn hard and damn dangerous-most Mouths considered it impossible-which only made Wolf’s mention of the word all the more interesting.

In the empire, I’d been learning, “soul” was a loaded term on more than just the religious level.

“Still,” said Wolf, “it was a different time. Whatever his reasons, Ivory came to believe not only that we degans couldn’t be bound by the Oath-an Oath he himself had helped write and invest with power-but that we were unworthy to serve either the emperor or the empire.

“This change of heart did nothing to endear him to his brothers and sisters. They had sworn their lives and their swords to a cause he had created-one he now seemingly disdained. Dogs, some degans said, were more loyal than Ivory. Blood flowed in the Barracks Hall for the first time.”

Wolf stopped. I thought I could almost see the chaos of that time reflected in his eyes; as if he could see it happening again in the present if he didn’t succeed.

“So Ivory fled?” I said.

“No.” Wolf shook his head and, mercifully, got up out of my bed. If I’d had the energy, I’d have leapt for joy. “No. Ultimately, even Ivory saw what his presence was doing to the Order. He renounced his place among us and left.”

“Then why is Degan looking for his papers?” I said.

“Because when Ivory left the Order-when he left the empire-he took the founding records of the degans with him: the old Oaths, the original formularies of ritual, the history of the degans up to that point. And, most important for my brother Bronze, Ivory took our first laws as well.”

“Laws,” I said. “As in, what it means to be a degan?” That made a kind of sense: If Degan wanted to help the Order, what better way than to find the documents could answer the question at the center of the split?

Wolf nodded. “And how a person can be restored to the Order, yes.”

“But I told you,” I said, “Degan. . Bronze doesn’t want back in.”

“Perhaps not,” said Wolf, “but for our purposes, it’s the laws that matter. If we want to be able to get Bronze into the Barracks Hall, let alone give him a chance to speak, quoting from the old laws could prove helpful. Much of what the degans have now is based on memories and tradition written down after Ivory’s departure. The first laws will take precedence, even when spoken by someone under the taint of killing one of his fellows.”

“And you think those laws-Ivory’s papers-are in el-Qaddice?”

Wolf stepped toward the door. “Bronze must, else why would he be here?”

I didn’t feel quite up to pointing out the gaping holes in this logic, so I let it pass. Instead, I moved over to my bed and scratched my neck. The sweat that had been there much of the night had dried, leaving what felt like a thin, slimy film over my skin.

“And what if Degan refuses to recite those laws?” Never mind getting him to come back to Ildrecca in the first place. Or face the Order. Or even talk to me again, for that matter.

“Then I shall recite them for him.”

“Are we talking about the same person here?” I said. “Because I don’t see Degan letting someone else do much of anything on his behalf if he doesn’t want it done.”

Wolf showed his teeth. “That will be my concern.”

Now it was my turn to shiver. And I still didn’t feel reassured.