Protect Me from What I Want to Know

Vaneik called Aymon on the phone, long after the Governor’s Dinner had ended. Aymon took the call in his rooms in Stonecourt, with his feet up on his desk and Vaneik’s reedy voice over the speaker. Vaneik was back in orbit, on board the Oathkeeper , so there was a small but noticeable delay in between their responses to each other.

“I assume that since you haven’t mentioned it, you haven’t found out who tried to murder me yet, Aymon,” Vaneik said.

“We’re trying to trace the money,” Aymon said. “But we haven’t been able to figure out more than that. He has connections to some organized crime in Yora, which was presumably how he was contacted for the job, but he doesn’t know who hired him.”

“Not surprising,” Vaneik said. “Your apprentice should have let me kill him.”

“That would have been a scene,” Aymon said.

“As though it wasn’t already.”

“No witnesses. It doesn’t have to be.”

Vaneik’s laugh was hollow. “Am I to understand that you want me to do you a favor, after I almost was murdered at your party?”

“I would appreciate it, but I don’t expect it.”

“You had best be more careful, Aymon,” Vaneik said. “If your apprentice hadn’t been there, you would have had a new host of problems.”

“I’m sure,” Aymon said.

“I like her, by the way.” It was an almost off-handed comment. “Not that I spoke to the others, but she seems to have a good head on her shoulders.”

“Tell me, Ungarti, did your father have a favorite from among my cohort?”

“Certainly,” Vaneik said. “And it wasn’t you.”

“That must have been a great disappointment for him, then.”

“That the two apprentices with good sense were killed, and the one who was left confides more in pirates than anyone else? Yes, I believe it was. Which was why he retired.” Vaneik sniffed. “It came as no surprise that every decision you have made has been antagonistic towards us, after you became First.”

“Antagonistic? I wouldn’t be so harsh on myself.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. But you have always hated the Guild, for whatever reason.”

“I don’t hate the Guild,” Aymon said. “Just you.”

Vaneik laughed at that, the sound grating and unpleasant through the phone. “I understand that you have your interests, and you understand that I have mine. But I hope that our successors will be able to cooperate.”

“I’m given to understand that your son doesn’t particularly enjoy collaboration with anyone.”

Vaneik clearly didn’t like accusations against his son, because he changed the topic, his voice suddenly sharp. “Regardless of who my successor is, I intend to outlast you.”

“We all intend many things, Ungarti.”

“I should avoid attending any more of your functions, so that I can accomplish that goal. I don’t like putting my life in your hands, which I apparently have to do every time I set foot on Emerri.”

“I apologize,” Aymon said.

“I’m sure,” Vaneik said. There was some distorted sound from the other end of the line. “I’m going to jump my ship. Let me know what you plan on doing about Olar.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll tell you right now, if one more of my ships encounters pirates in that system, I am going to take matters into my own hands. And you won’t like it.”

“I don’t control what pirates do.”

Vaneik made a dismissive sound. “Enjoy your night, Aymon.”

“Safe travels.”

Vaneik hung up the phone, leaving Aymon in the sudden silence of his office. He pulled his feet off his desk, then stood and stretched, the joints in his back cracking. It was late, but he would wait for Halen to return before he went to bed.

Aymon poured himself a glass of whiskey, then walked into the living room, staring out the window at the courtyard below and the lights of Yora out over the top of the building. The small moon was moving quickly on its course overhead, and Aymon watched it travel three quarters of the way across the sky as he stood there and sipped his drink, just waiting for Halen to return. Thoughts were drifting across his mind, primarily concerning his apprentices and the politics of the day, but after twenty years of serving as First, and years before that of being First Herrault’s apprentice, Aymon knew very well how to think about political considerations without allowing them to overwhelm him. The matter of Vaneik’s would-be assassin was concerning, but it couldn’t be solved right this moment, and Vaneik probably could be trusted not to elevate this into a huge scandal. There would be little for him to gain from it, anyway.

He would have to do something about Olar, eventually, but he wanted to refrain from intervening for as long as possible. A diplomatic solution would be more elegant than sending a Fleet ship… Aymon took a deep breath and pushed the issue to the side. He would invite the Olar council representative to have a talk with him, later this week. He would find some kind of carrot to offer them, get them to crack down on pirates trading in their system.

Aymon tilted his glass around in his hand, watching how the alcohol caught the light. And Yan. He didn’t like that Vaneik liked her. He would need to speak with her, too.

The door into Aymon’s rooms opened. Halen, of course, could come in without knocking, and he did. Despite how large he was, he moved very quietly, and it was only the sound of the door, and the way his shadowy reflection appeared on the window in front of Aymon that signaled his approach.

Aymon turned and smiled. It was clear that Halen had stopped in his own room for a while, as his short hair was damp from the shower and he was wearing fresh clothes, just his shirtsleeves and slacks, no jacket. “Care for a drink?” Aymon asked.

“No,” Halen said. He looked out the window, tracking the small moon as it dipped below the buildings on the horizon. Aymon looked at him, feeling the same warmth that he always felt when he was alone with Halen.

“I spoke to Ungarti,” Aymon said. “Over the phone.”

“He was taking this fairly well when he left,” Halen said. “Has he changed his mind?”

“No, I don’t think so. He sounded calm.” He took a contemplative sip of his drink. “I think we were lucky.”

“That doesn’t require stating.”

“No, I don’t mean Vaneik surviving,” Aymon said. “I just have the impression-- and tell me if I’m wrong-- if it had been Stonecourt security that stepped in, he would have caused much more of a fuss.”

“Perhaps.”

“You and Ungarti share a favorite among my apprentices.”

“I shouldn’t pick favorites,” Halen said.

Aymon chuckled, then put his glass down on the windowsill. “Of course you shouldn’t. But you clearly taught her well.”

Halen inclined his head, still looking out the window. “I’m glad you think so, though I don’t know how much credit I can really take. Instincts are harder to teach than mechanics, and I only taught them for two weeks.”

“How was she taking things?”

Halen didn’t respond for a moment. “She was understandably shaken, initially.”

“Initially?”

“Maedes reported that she and Kino were about to break in to find me while I was dealing with Wyson.” Wyson was the name of the attacker, one of the few verifiable pieces of information that had been gotten from him.

“Maedes stopped them, I assume? Or did they discourage themselves?”

“She stopped them,” Halen said. “Talked them out of it, anyway.”

Aymon nodded. “Did you tell her to?”

“No,” Halen said. “She took the initiative. She was a good choice to assign to Yan.”

“I trust your judgement,” Aymon said. “If she hadn’t stopped them?”

Halen shook his head. “I am glad that I didn’t have to deal with them.”

“They’re going to have to learn how things work eventually,” Aymon said. “I don’t think there would have been any harm in letting them in.”

“Eventually, Aymon.”

“If they’re curious about things…” He trailed off.

“Forgive me for wanting to protect them,” Halen said.

“You’re forgiven,” Aymon said. He leaned on the windowsill, his fingers splaying out against the white painted rim, the glass cold against his shoulders even through his cassock and cape. “I suppose I’m protecting them, as well, so we both share some blame.”

On a day when Halen was feeling better, he might have smiled at that, but he just nodded now. “When are you going to take them to the Emperor?”

“When the Emperor demands it,” Aymon said. “And not sooner.”

“I’m surprised that wasn’t tonight.”

“Hah. I suppose I should expect a message that they want to see Yan any day now.”

“You should warn her what it’s like.”

“I don’t think that would help,” Aymon said. He drummed his fingers on the windowsill. “Maybe the Emperor won’t demand for a while. Herrault only brought me there early because… We never felt the same way about the experience, anyway.”

“I know,” Halen said. “Perhaps the Emperor is capable of respecting your pedagogical choices.”

“For whatever they’re worth.” A silence fell between them, and Aymon gazed at Halen, who continued to look out the window at nothing, or perhaps at his own reflection in the dark glass. “How are you, Halen?” Aymon asked after a moment.

“Fine,” Halen said. “I took care of what needed to be taken care of.”

“I know. Thank you,” Aymon said. Wyson was dead; everything that could be learned from him had been learned; what was left of the trail would be investigated.

Halen’s posture was stiff, and he still wasn’t looking at Aymon. It wasn’t as though Aymon needed to be looked at, but he sometimes wished he had Halen’s gift, to know what the other man was feeling. He knew, on an intellectual level, of course, what Halen must be thinking. But there was a difference between an intellectual knowing that Halen had spent his evening very slowly killing another man-- feeling it himself all the while-- and having an understanding of the feeling, the kind of understanding that caused Halen to stand here, straight-backed and tense. All Aymon could feel was his own tenderness towards Halen, and his unspoken hope that his love was a salve.

Aymon leaned forward and ran his hand down Halen’s arm, until he reached his hand, heavy and sturdy. Halen was still as Aymon lifted his hand, running his thumb over Halen’s knuckles as he did.

“I certainly didn’t expect the evening to go this way,” Aymon said idly.

“Of course not.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t feel anything from him beforehand.”

Halen shook his head. “He was dressed as staff and hid far away from me. I’m sure he knew what to expect.”

“I suppose we haven’t had the element of surprise in that respect for a while.”

“No,” Halen said. “Maedes told Yan and Kino about me.”

“Hah. Wonder what they think of that?”

“I expect they both think it’s very unpleasant.”

“But you can’t even feel Kino, can you?”

“No,” Halen said. “Not most of the time.” He smiled a little. “It’s a nice change. Even if she doesn’t like it, I don’t have to know.”

“And yet Yan is your favorite.”

“I can’t help it,” Halen said.

“A pirate who likes my spacer apprentice. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“You never much liked imagining the future.”

Aymon felt briefly uncomfortable at that. “No,” he agreed.

“Are you worried?”

“You would know better than I,” Aymon said, and he lifted Halen’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Although it was probably his imagination, Aymon thought he smelled the tang of blood still on Halen’s well-scrubbed skin. Halen touched Aymon’s cheek, very gently.

“You’re not, but maybe you should be,” Halen said.

“Why would I worry when you’re with me?”

Halen said nothing at that, just stroked the grey hair at Aymon’s temple. Aymon took a half step forward so that he could put his hand on the small of Halen’s back and lean onto his broad chest. He could hear Halen’s breath, his slow heartbeat, feel the heat of his body, smell his soap and the light smell of his fresh laundry. Halen’s hand was heavy on the back of Aymon’s neck.

“I hope you’re not worried,” Aymon said.

“No.” Halen’s voice was a low rumble, one that Aymon could feel in his own chest, standing together as they were. He suspected that Halen was lying, but he let it go.

“Good.”

They stood silently for a moment, Aymon simply enjoying Halen’s presence. There was still tension in Halen’s body, in the way that he was holding himself too still, the way his hand’s movements on Aymon’s head and neck were restrained to the point of being jerky, still holding himself back from some echo of the violence of the evening. Aymon would have liked to loosen that restraint, though he wasn’t sure if that was for Halen’s sake, or his own.

“Tired?” Aymon asked.

“Some,” Halen replied. “You?”

“Some.” Aymon tilted his head up, asking with his eyes for Halen to bend down and kiss him, which he did.

Halen was gone from Aymon’s bed the next morning when Aymon woke up, which was the way things usually went, though it never ceased to cause him mild annoyance. One of his vices was the enjoyment of a luxurious morning in bed, and another was that his taste in lovers ran towards those who could not bear to linger while there was work to be done. Aymon wasn’t lazy-- far from it-- but there was something to be said for the simple pleasure of not getting up until he wanted to get up. And if Halen had remained there in bed with him, that may have been far later than the duties of the day allowed for.

Still, he pictured the moment that Halen had woken, perhaps just as the sun was beginning to stain the horizon red. Had Halen laid there and watched him sleep, for just a second? Aymon envied him the pleasure. It was exceedingly rare that the roles were reversed, and Aymon got to watch Halen sleep; the few times it happened were perfect beacons in his memory.

But the duties of the day did weigh on Aymon, and before he got up, he sent a message to Yan, asking her to meet him for brunch. The apprentices were scheduled to have the day off, but that sometimes meant little.

Yan responded to Aymon’s message while he was in the shower, and he couldn’t tell if her relentlessly formal tone with him meant that she minded the interruption to her day off or not. He met her in his usual dining room at Stonecourt, the one for meals with a small and casual entourage. His apprentices had eaten there with him several times, so it was not Yan being unable to find the room that led her to be a few minutes late; Aymon was already halfway through his iced coffee when she arrived, though he had ordered the food to be held until she made it.

The morning sun was streaming in through the windows, touching the white tablecloths and bouncing light all around the room, glittering on the cutlery and the buttons on the shoulders of Yan’s cassock. The light did nothing to disguise the fact that Yan looked tired, her eyes half-lidded and her smile, professional as ever, wan. Her hands were halfway to the pockets in her cassock, as though she wanted to hide them away, but couldn’t quite bring herself to be that informal, and so instead she was simply wiping her palms on the black fabric with tensed arms. She held herself with a stiffness that reminded Aymon so strongly of the way Halen had stood the night before that he almost commented on it, but instead he just held out his hand and smiled at her to sit.

“I’m sorry for summoning you on your day off,” Aymon said.

“It’s fine,” Yan said. “I know that flexibility is important.”

Aymon chuckled. “This isn’t a job interview, Yan.”

“I know; we already had that.”

She was funny. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. She was glancing out the window at the garden, not looking at him.

“I’d hope that I deserve a little more honesty than that from you.”

The corners of her mouth turned down, but she stifled the frown and said, in a clear voice, “If you want to know how I’m feeling, you should ask Halen.”

“Trust me,” Aymon said. “I do. But he’s not here right this second, and I’m told that it’s difficult to get an accurate read on you when you spend half your energy thinking about how much you hate pirates every time he’s in the room.”

The minute flinch of embarrassment that she gave was amusing. She looked down at her plate. “Sorry,” she said.

“You don’t have to apologize. Either to me, or to Halen. He understands well enough. That’s why I didn’t have him in the room when I spoke with Vaneik, yesterday. He says the way that spacers get antsy around him makes his skin crawl.”

“Oh.”

“Halen likes you, you know,” Aymon said.

“He’s said as much.”

“Do you not believe him?”

“I…” Yan didn’t seem to have an answer. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It matters to me that you’re able to work together,” Aymon said. “But I think you are.”

Their brunch came in then, pancakes and sausages for the both of them, along with coffee and juice for Yan. The momentary distraction interrupted their conversation. Aymon said the blessing, and then they both ate silently for a while. Yan kept sneaking glances at him, as though he wouldn’t notice her looking, and he was amused by it, the combination of silly timidity and boldness. There was no need for either, of course. She was his apprentice; the rules were different.

“He appreciated that you called him for help, last night,” Aymon said.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You were being watched. Stonecourt security was already on their way.”

Yan nodded. “Is Guildmaster Vaneik--”

“He’s fine,” Aymon said. “He’ll keep this quiet. There’s no reason to make a fuss about it.” He sipped his coffee.

Yan hesitated for a second, then said, “What happened to that man?”

“He’s dead.”

“Why didn’t you send him to the courts?”

“What would the courts do?” Aymon asked. “The matter is taken care of. It makes no difference if he was executed by Halen or by a tribunal’s judgement. Assassination is a capital crime.”

Yan looked down at her food, mashing a pancake to a syrupy sludge with the back of her fork.

“Do you disagree?”

“It’s not my place.”

“Certainly it is,” Aymon said. “You, or Sid, or Kino, will rule one day, and as First, you will have unilateral ability to pronounce judgement. It’s only a matter of time before you will have to make choices like this. If he had gone before a tribunal, there would have been endless discussion of the matter, and tensions between the Guild and the Imperial government would be even worse than they already are.”

“I suppose,” Yan said, though he wasn’t sure that she was entirely convinced. “Did Halen find out anything useful?”

“Some. The man was part of a criminal organization here on Emerri. And those kinds of people have ties to pirates; considering as this was an attack on the Guildmaster, and a weakened Guild is good for pirates, I’d say that’s one avenue that’s worth pursuing. But we don’t know much. We’re trying to trace the money.”

Yan nodded.

“Ungarti was complimentary of you, by the way,” Aymon said, neatly cutting and eating some pancake. “What do you think of that?”

“I assume that you know what happened in our conversation,” Yan said.

“I do.”

She seemed distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t want him to think that I’m not loyal to you.”

Aymon tried not to smile. “I believe Ungarti’s feelings about the loyalty of apprentices are far more colored by his own experience than the truth,” Aymon said. “He might suspect that Olms and Thule are Imperial agents. But I have no problem trusting you, Yan.”

Her eyes narrowed a hair, but she said nothing.

“You have something to say.”

“It’s not complimentary,” Yan said.

Aymon raised an eyebrow. “That only makes me want to hear it all the more.”

“If you trust me, or Sid, or Kino-- why were you watching us?”

“Does it bother you?”

She fiddled with her napkin. “You know about Kino?” Neither of them apparently wanted to directly answer questions.

“I know she uses vena on a fairly regular basis, yes,” Aymon said.

“And you’re not going to do anything about it?”

Aymon considered his words carefully. “There will come a time when she will need to stop, and I’m sure it will be sooner, rather than later. But that’s a conversation that she and I will have, and not something that you need to concern yourself with.”

“Or Halen and her,” Yan muttered under her breath, unable to contain herself.

Aymon laughed. “Yan, I think you can rest assured that I have done more drugs than Halen has.”

She looked up at him sharply. Aymon’s lips twitched in a smile. “It’s not as though I was a stick in the mud in my Academy days,” he said. “And, besides, for pirates, such things are far more valuable than fiat. Halen may have occasionally been paid by the gram, but that means that, for the intelligent, there is value in not getting addicted.”

“Oh.”

“You’re unkind to him,” Aymon said.

“Sorry,” Yan said again.

“I mostly find it funny. You and he are more similar than you are different.”

Yan scowled. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

“It’s easy for me to trust you, not just because you’re my apprentice, but because I understand what the loyalty of those who grew up on ships is like.”

“And you don’t think that makes me too loyal to the Guild?”

“No,” Aymon said, confidence in his voice. “I’m sure that it makes you loyal to your captain, specifically, but he is not here. And, in his place, I am.”

Yan considered this for a second, then nodded. Aymon smiled at her. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

“About being watched?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t really describe that as an activity that has anything to do with trust. It’s more about being able to understand and predict the world,” he said. “To prepare myself. If you want to call that a lack of trust, I can understand, but I do not see it that way.”

“Okay,” she said. She seemed uncomfortable, and not like she was going to press him on it.

“God led you to me, or me to you. You and Sid and Kino. That’s the only thing that I need to know to trust you.”

She finally met his steady gaze, then, her eyes appreciatively wide. “Oh.”

“Ungarti doesn’t have that understanding, which is why he believes that not only are his apprentices not to be trusted, but that he can peel off mine to do with as he wishes. I wouldn’t put too much stock in what he thinks. For all his virtues, he isn’t like us in the least.”

“I see,” Yan said.

“Does that reassure you?”

“About that, yes,” Yan said.

“But about other things?”

She finished her cup of juice before responding. “I don’t know,” she said. “I feel like I’m in over my head. There’s a lot that I’m realizing I don’t know, and if I think about that too much…”

“If you weren’t capable, you wouldn’t be here,” Aymon said firmly.

She nodded, but looked away.

“And as for things you don’t know,” he said, “it’s true that there are plenty.”

She looked at him, and her voice was a little defensive. “If I hadn’t gone to look for Halen last night, would you have told me what happened to that man?”

“Would you have asked?” Aymon replied. He could answer questions with questions all day.

There was an odd tone in her voice when she said, “Kino would have.”

“And would you consider that an admirable quality of Kino’s?”

“I don’t know,” Yan said. “It’s hard for me to tell.”

“Here’s what I’ll say, Yan. There are things that I do not think you are ready to know, or at least, things that I am not ready to watch you learn. But, as the theology says, ‘All will be revealed at the appointed hour.’ I won’t have any of you succeed me without knowing all that I have to teach, good and bad. Now that you’re formally introduced as my apprentices, I’m going to start including you in a lot more of the real workings of government. You’ll get up to speed quickly, especially when I start sending you out to work independently, which I hope will be soon.”

She nodded.

“And, I will say, if you have a direct question, I do not have reason to believe that I would lie to you about the answer.”

“Did you think that Guildmaster Vaneik was going to be in danger?”

“No,” Aymon said. “I would never have allowed you to go with him, if I did. I may not like the Guildmaster, but there is great value in keeping him alive, at least until his fated replacement is older and wiser.”

Yan nodded. “Okay.”

“Did you really think that I would send someone to kill the Guildmaster?” Aymon’s voice was amused.

Yan looked away.

“What, tell me what you’re thinking, Yan.”

“Well, you couldn’t exactly have Halen do it.”

Aymon laughed, and Yan was clearly startled, but she cracked a bit of a smile. Aymon considered telling Yan that if he had wanted Ungarti to be dead, he would have done a far better job of it, but then he decided that she did not need that piece of commentary from him.