Chapter Fifteen

Katanes, Tannen City

Arta followed Shiran closely as he left the commercial district of Tannen City behind. It was quieter here, and the buildings weren't so tall, but there was an oppressive stillness in the air. For all that they were shorter, the buildings here seemed to loom in a way that the ones before hadn't, and their faces seemed less neat, more… stained. Beside her, Karani pulled her cloak more tightly around herself and wrinkled her nose. Clearly, this part of the city wasn't nearly as much to her liking.

Shiran rounded a corner and gestured for the girls to follow him; they found themselves in a narrow alley between buildings whose walls were lined with windows and balconies. All of them appeared tattered and worn down, and on some of the balconies and around the doors on ground level, Arta could see ragged human figures that regarded them with suspicion… and anger. They knew, Arta thought, that here were people who didn't belong.

"Shiran?" Karani asked weakly, "why are we here?"

"Take a look," he said softly. "There are places like this in every city on every world in the Dozen Stars and beyond. The poor, the destitute, the outcast – these are the people the system has failed. And this is far from the worst slum even in this city."

"Why doesn't Father do something?" Arta asked, finding her voice.

"He does," Shiran said. "Your father puts as much of his resources into projects for public works and the air of the poor as any lord in this Kingdom, and a good deal more than most. But his resources are not infinite, and his power isn't infinite, and there are many in the government and the guilds who aren't so altruistic as he is. One person can only do so much, be he commoner, guildsman, baron, duke… or king. Remember that power has limits… and a price. While you live in luxury, people throughout your domain suffer. Never forget that – or that you have a duty to them."

As soon as the professor finished speaking, he began to walk down the alley; Karani stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve. "What are you doing?" she hissed in his ear.

Shiran turned to look at her with an expression that could melt steel. "What little I can," he said.

Arta didn't know how long they spent in the alley, Shiran approaching each person in turn with his students hovering behind him like uncertain bodyguards. The people seemed nervous and suspicious at first, but also seemed afraid to refuse three people who looked like they obviously came from power, no matter how poorly they disguised it. But something in Shiran's manner won them over, even if they kept shooting Arta and her sister dirty looks. Arta couldn't hear everything he said, but he spoke kind and understanding words, and she thought she caught him pressing what looked like money into their hands. Finally, sighing, he stood and turned to leave, gesturing for the girls to follow him.

They had just left the mouth of the alley when Arta heard the sound of footsteps approaching. A number of tall men emerged from the shadows, taking up positions around them; Arta sucked in a breath and felt her body tense for a fight as she reflexively scooted close to Karani, who did the same. Shiran, however, didn't seem either worried or surprised at this turn of events, merely wearied by it. "I thought this might happen," Arta thought she heard him mutter.

"It's dangerous to walk the streets at night, old man," the apparent leader of the strangers said. He nodded towards Arta and Karani. "'Specially for old men and pretty girls. But we're not monsters, whatever you think. Just some guys trying to earn a little honest living. So, rich man, if you empty your pockets for us, all three of you can walk away from this just fine."

Arta scowled and clenched her fists at the man's words, trying to still the nervous beating of her heart; Karani, meanwhile, just smirked and shot the closest gang member a look that Arta knew meant she'd already figured out which of his bones she was going to break first. Shiran, however, remained calm. "I don't have much on me, I'm afraid," he said. "And the girls have nothing. You're not going to profit from this, so I suggest we all just walk away before anyone gets hurt."

The gang leader smirked. "Funny," he said. "But I don't believe you." He nodded at his men. "Search them. Whatever they're hiding, I want."

"I told you, we're not hiding anything," Shiran said mildly.

"And I told you, I don't believe you," the gang leader said. "Besides, couple of pretty rich girls? Bet their daddy or mommy will pay us big money to get them back. Step aside, old man, and maybe we'll let you have a bit of the cut, if you really have as little as you say…"

Shiran's face suddenly froze in a cold expression. "I would appreciate," he said in that same, mild voice, "that you do not threaten my students." Arta suddenly knew something was about to happen, but before she could react, it was already over.

She didn't even see Shiran move. One moment, he was standing there in front of the gang leader; the next he was shaking out his hand with an irritated expression on his face while the other man had collapsed in front of him, choking. It took Arta a moment to realize that the Professor had struck him in the throat with his fingers, moving faster than the eye could follow. The other gang members shied back, their expressions uncertain as they looked from each other to the prone form of their boss.

Shiran knelt beside the fallen man and leaned close to his ear. "I know you're not an evil man," he said quietly. "I know that you feel you have no choice but to follow the path you have, and for that, I've shown you mercy. I have no patience for predators, but I believe that everyone can be educated. I hereby charge you with protecting this community and not preying on it. It won't turn things around at once, but maybe it can be a start. I give you a chance to rethink your life and better yourself. If you don't take advantage of it, I will know. Do you understand?"

The gang leader looked up and nodded. "Who the hells are you?" he rasped, rubbing his throat.

Shiran smiled. "Just a concerned citizen," he said, and stood. The gang leader nodded at him and gestured towards his men, who parted and let the Professor through, Arta and Karani following close behind, shocked expressions still written on their faces.

/

Arta drummed her fingers on the arm of her seat, feeling the hum of the flitter's engine beneath her as it flew them back towards home. Beside her, Karani sat staring out the window at the night sky as it whipped by; Shiran was up front at the controls. None of them spoke.

Her mind kept flashing back to the scene in the alley; the crushing poverty in the slums, Shiran's kindness, the gang and the sudden violence… Arta clenched her hand into a fist. Inside, she vowed that she wouldn't forget what she'd seen tonight, that she'd never be the sort of noble who sat back and let their people suffer. We she came of age, she would do all that she could to help those who lacked any recourse to help themselves. Then she shook her head, chuckling darkly at the thought. She wasn't going to inherit anything, and likely would never hold real power. Any vows she made to herself were hollow and empty.

"How did you do it?" she finally asked Shiran, startling herself by breaking the silence but glad that she'd gotten her thoughts onto a less unsettling track. Karani turned to look at her curiously; up front, Shiran merely shrugged.

"What do you mean?" he asked mildly.

"You know what I mean," Arta snapped, sounding more irritated than she'd meant to. "When you fought that guy by the alley; you took him down like it was nothing, but I couldn't even follow what you did."

"An Adept's trick," he said after a pause; Karani frowned at the realization that this wasn't something she could learn. "It's not terribly complicated to speed up your own movements, though I don't want you trying it yet, Arta – you can pull your muscles very easily if you get it wrong. Not very glamorous, I'm afraid." Something tingled at the back of Arta's mind – somewhere, she'd seen someone move like that before – but she shook her head, deciding it was only a figment of her imagination.

"You know what I think?" Karani asked. "I think you could have taken them all out. Why didn't you?"

"Because I don't like to use violence when I don't have to," Shiran said. "Once the gang saw what I could do, they decided we were rather more than they felt like handling. People like that aren't usually evil by nature; they're desperate, just like everyone else in that area, and in their desperation turned on their own people to survive." He paused, and though Arta couldn't see his face, she thought he was frowning. "I hope I shocked them into rethinking their lives, unfortunately, in places where there is that kind of poverty, crime will likely always flourish." Arta could hear the anger that underlay his voice.

"Someone should stop it!" Karani said suddenly. "Someone should go in there and… and clean out the gangs and make peoples' lives better!"

Shiran sighed sadly. "You can't solve all the worlds' ills with money and power, Karani," he said. "And those who think they know what's best and have the power to try and force it to come true frighten me far more than all the petty criminals in the galaxy."

Arta digested that in silence the rest of the way home.

/

Their father was waiting for them in the entry hall when they arrived at the palace, standing patiently with his arms folded behind him. When he saw his daughters, he smiled. "Ah, back at last," he said, before nodding to Shiran. "And so, how was your evening?" The Baron turned and began to walk along the hall, both girls taking up positions just beside him.

"It was amazing!" Karani said excitedly. "We ate at a diner and walked all through the commercial district and saw all sorts of people and Shiran fought some gangsters and I got a new hat!" She gestured to the colorful creation that now adorned her head; the Baron's eyebrows rose slightly at the sight of it, and then he seemed to process the rest of her sentence.

"Shiran fought what?" he asked and turned to look at the Professor over his shoulder. "I hope you didn't take them anywhere too dangerous. Brawling in the streets is not what I had in mind for the evening."

"It was a minor disagreement," the older man said. "Besides, you know I prefer a more hands-on approach. They won't be children forever, Varas," he added, his voice softening. "Your girls need to know the people they are going to lead someday – the good and the bad. You know this as well as I do."

The Baron sighed. "You're right, of course," he said. "But, it's a father's right to worry."

"We were fine, really," Karani said, seeming to have recovered completely from whatever dark thoughts had occupied her on the flitter.

"I know," the Baron said, smiling. "I never doubted it." He turned towards Arta. "You seem awfully quiet. What's on your mind?"

Arta regarded her foster-father's face carefully for a long while. "I think," she finally said, "that the Professor wanted to get us thinking about responsibility. A good leader can't shut herself up in her palace and let the galaxy go by – she has to take responsibility for the people who've been trusted to her care, understand them, and understand that her duty is to them first. But she also has to be careful to not take too much responsibility, because one person can't save everyone."

The Baron regarded her thoughtfully, then he smiled and clapped her on the shoulder. "There's my thoughtful girl," he said. "Now, then I don't know about all of you, but I think it's rather late and past time we retired. Off to bed with you both."

Karani rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, but gave her father a quick hug, which Arta did in turn. The two girls waved goodbye to Shiran and then they turned together and headed towards the lift that would take them to their rooms.

Unnoticed by either of them, the Baron and the Professor watched them go and shared a meaningful glance before heading to their own rooms for the night.

/

The Ducal Palace of Sakran was located at the heart of the capital city of the planet that bore its name, surrounded by a well-tended park on all sides. The city's wealthy and elite came here often to relax and walk among the trees, and to trade secrets with each other for their intrigues; it was rumored that the only reason Duke Naudar permitted it was because he had listening devices hidden among the trees and took the opportunity to listen into plots his subordinates made when they thought his attention was elsewhere.

There were a few of those lesser nobles out at the moment, late in the planet's evening; none of them noticed the dark figure who glided among the trees, unless they felt a sense of quiet dread but were ignorant of its source. Wrapped in her shadowed cloak, Midaia – once Sister Midaia of the Convent of the Holy Light, and before that Princess Midaia ast Carann – ignored them all, making a straight line for the Ducal Palace.

Emerging from the trees, she found herself on the open plaza that surrounded the lavish residence and was intended to ensure that no intruder could approach the palace without being seen by the guards that regularly patrolled it. But then, most intruders weren't Adepts, and Midaia had long made a habit of intruding into places where she was neither expected nor welcome. Wrapped in her own thought, she went entirely unnoticed by the guards she passed until she came to the base of the fence that surrounded the palace proper; a more formidable defense than it looked, for it was designed to electrify any living thing that touched it.

To Midaia, it was no barrier at all; she took a moment to focus her mind and draw strength before vaulting over the fence as effortlessly as if it had been knee-high, leaving no trace of her passage save for a rustling in the wind. Landing on the other side, she hurried to the palace doors and waited there quietly for several minutes, until a servant came out on some errand and she was able to slip inside.

The interior of the palace had a rather lavish, baroque style – Naudar ast Sakran considered himself a man of refinement, though Midaia didn't think much of his taste. She crept along the main hallway until she came to a side passage, and then quickly flattened herself against the wall as two people approached, talking quietly to each other. When they got close enough for her to get a good look at them, she smiled under her hood – exactly the sort she'd been hoping to find.

The man was tall and well-built and wore a uniform of military cut; he looked about twenty. The woman was a year or two younger and wore an elegant gown, but there was a calculating air to her expression that showed she was no fainting court flower. Midaia recognized them both – Darius and Tariti, Naudar's elder son and only daughter.

"…hope Father will be returning soon," Darius was saying. "It's high time we showed these criminals who really runs the Dozen Stars."

"And to think that the pirate nest would be right on the borders of our own duchy!" Tariti said with an exaggerated shudder. "Awful idea, don't you agree?"

"It's an insult, is what it is," Darius muttered angrily. "But Father will sort them out, don't you worry. He and the Regent are two of the greatest warriors in the Kingdom, whatever that upstart Respen says. Regardless of Mardoban's politics, the two of them together should be a match for any enemy up to the Emperor himself."

Midaia's ears pricked at that; so, Mardoban and Naudar were finally planning on doing something about those pirates everyone was so worked up about lately. She'd heard wild rumors about the mysterious Commander they answered to; she hoped there was enough left of him when the dukes were done for her to have a chance to see for herself if they were true. Still, that wasn't why she'd come here – her interest was on a loftier prize.

"And when Father does get back?" Tariti pressed, and Midaia smiled – that was more to her liking. "Has he told you if he still means to go through with his plans?"

"For the tournament, you mean?" Darius asked, laughing. "He didn't say anything, but I think he means to propose the idea to the council if the operation against the pirates is a success. I hope he does; I look forward to it!"

A tournament… Midaia frowned. If Naudar needed the council's approval, that meant a Kingdom-wide competition, such as hadn't been held since the Queen died. It was no surprise Darius was excited at the prospect; she'd never seen him fight, but she'd heard he was a terror with the dueling sword and clearly passionate about the sport, and his younger siblings were supposed to be similarly talented. But what did the Duke hope to gain from such a move?

"Good," Tariti said, drawing the watcher's attention back to the conversation. "The throne has stood empty for too long, I say. It's high time we had a King or Queen again – and it's long overdue for our house to have a chance at it. Do you think you can win us a throne, dear brother?"

Darius grinned roguishly. "It hurts that you'd even have to ask, dear sister," he said. "But for all we know, I'd meet my match. Let the best man – or woman – win, as I say."

Midaia drew a sudden, sharp breath. So, she thought. Naudar's ambitions were clear – the duke would be king, or have his eldest son be king, which would amount to the same thing. How, exactly, he intended to accomplish that by a tournament, Midaia was uncertain – the two young fools, overconfident in the safety of their own home, had been a valuable resource so far, but maybe…

Tariti had paused suddenly, her eyes scanning the shadows, and Midaia realized belatedly that the girl must have heard her breath – damn her and her sharp ears. The duke's daughter frowned. "Did you hear something, Darius?" she asked. "I thought I did. I think someone's there."

"Dammit," the elder brother muttered. "Who's there? Guards! We may have an intruder; I want the entire palace searched!"

Cursing under her breath, Midaia turned and hurried down the hallway – the more someone was alert and looking for someone suspicious, the more likely it would be that they could see through her Adept's arts and notice her. Still, it wasn't as bad as it could be – the guards had no idea who they were looking for, so they weren't as likely as they might be to penetrate her disguise. Ducking down another corridor, she doubled back and found herself once again in the main hall, now milling with guards, none of whom, thankfully, knew they were looking for a pale woman in a dark cloak. It took all of her considerable effort of will, but the disguise held; she was able to slip through the guards unnoticed and out of the palace and into the gardens.

There, breathing heavily in relief against a tree, she took a long moment to collect herself, sort through what she had just overheard – and wonder what the implications of it were for her own plans, for Shiran's, and, of course, for Arta's future.