Deimos' terseness was no surprise now, not after getting to know a little of his ways. Jigano might have shrugged it off as simple tension given the sudden shift in tides that might throw their plans askew, but Zuriel's sudden coldness came unexpectedly, and he paused in his approach, watching her walk away. Watching Deimos focus on his leatherwork with troubling intensity. Something was up - that much he could have assumed from the request to meet - but it was no ideal conversation to discuss tactics or trade information, as he had hoped. Something had happened... or was going to happen soon.
There was no point in pushing the mountain; he would speak when he was ready, and their friendship had grown enough that Jigano was willing to wait now, to give Deimos space to think (and brood) and find the words to drop from his tongue more precious than pearls, and each one as reluctantly released as from a miser's vault. He ambled over to the stone wall, sitting there as he had one day in Longheat, not so long past, and settled himself to wait until his companion was ready to speak, knowing it would be important.
The words that came were initially curious, but not necessarily concerning. A letter from Zariah? Had the Queen refused to acknowledge Amalia's leadership of the Guild? Unfortunate, but not the end of the wo--
Oh.
Oh.
Three full seconds the bard sat, as stunned as if Deimos had struck him between the brows with a hammer. First, the shock. Second, the rage. Third, the ice that washed through his veins and crystallized in the one uncovered blue eye of his disguise. "She wouldn't dare," he said flatly, his voice not quite a hiss, but dangerously close to it as he turned his head to glare in the direction of the Manor. "She would face a riot if she tried to take Amalia. Surely she has to know that. It wouldn't just be us standing between her - it would be half the Settlement. There would be blood on the streets..." It was that realization that stopped him from continuing. Because if they had learned anything in that wretched meeting it was that Zariah would dare. She would see the Hollowed Grounds torn apart by war... and Vai had warned him that the Launceleyns were ruthless warriors. No, Zariah wouldn't hesitate to unleash her deadly magics on the populace. Might even be looking for an excuse to do so, to cement fear where she had been unable to gain respect.
"Fuck!" It was a vicious, uncharacteristic curse, and he wished he had something to hit. Or bite. Zariah's throat would make a nice target.
Cold and fire twisted angrily through his stomach as he rose and folded his arms across his chest, too disciplined to pace, but too tense to remain sitting. "Does she have a plan?" He asked instead, trying to corral his thoughts down a more useful avenue. "To hide? Or to lure Zariah's guards into a trap?" Tactics and strategy, plans and counter-moves. Zariah had left on some secret mission... but that didn't mean Edrei wouldn't continue to carry out her cousin's orders.
But Edrei, though more trouble than any three men (or women) could handle... Edy was not Zariah. She wouldn't turn on her cousin, not from what he'd heard of her upbringing. But... she wouldn't necessarily do anything she hadn't been specifically ordered to, either. Maybe there was a way...
Maybe.
There was no point in pushing the mountain; he would speak when he was ready, and their friendship had grown enough that Jigano was willing to wait now, to give Deimos space to think (and brood) and find the words to drop from his tongue more precious than pearls, and each one as reluctantly released as from a miser's vault. He ambled over to the stone wall, sitting there as he had one day in Longheat, not so long past, and settled himself to wait until his companion was ready to speak, knowing it would be important.
The words that came were initially curious, but not necessarily concerning. A letter from Zariah? Had the Queen refused to acknowledge Amalia's leadership of the Guild? Unfortunate, but not the end of the wo--
Oh.
Oh.
Three full seconds the bard sat, as stunned as if Deimos had struck him between the brows with a hammer. First, the shock. Second, the rage. Third, the ice that washed through his veins and crystallized in the one uncovered blue eye of his disguise. "She wouldn't dare," he said flatly, his voice not quite a hiss, but dangerously close to it as he turned his head to glare in the direction of the Manor. "She would face a riot if she tried to take Amalia. Surely she has to know that. It wouldn't just be us standing between her - it would be half the Settlement. There would be blood on the streets..." It was that realization that stopped him from continuing. Because if they had learned anything in that wretched meeting it was that Zariah would dare. She would see the Hollowed Grounds torn apart by war... and Vai had warned him that the Launceleyns were ruthless warriors. No, Zariah wouldn't hesitate to unleash her deadly magics on the populace. Might even be looking for an excuse to do so, to cement fear where she had been unable to gain respect.
"Fuck!" It was a vicious, uncharacteristic curse, and he wished he had something to hit. Or bite. Zariah's throat would make a nice target.
Cold and fire twisted angrily through his stomach as he rose and folded his arms across his chest, too disciplined to pace, but too tense to remain sitting. "Does she have a plan?" He asked instead, trying to corral his thoughts down a more useful avenue. "To hide? Or to lure Zariah's guards into a trap?" Tactics and strategy, plans and counter-moves. Zariah had left on some secret mission... but that didn't mean Edrei wouldn't continue to carry out her cousin's orders.
But Edrei, though more trouble than any three men (or women) could handle... Edy was not Zariah. She wouldn't turn on her cousin, not from what he'd heard of her upbringing. But... she wouldn't necessarily do anything she hadn't been specifically ordered to, either. Maybe there was a way...
Maybe.
