Oryon (Tornians Book 3.5) (8 page)

Returning to the hall, Kaspar forced a benign expression on his face, one that he had perfected over the years that masked his inner rage. He knew that the time would come when this female would pay for all the lives she had ruined.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Isis smiled as her gaze traveled around the entrance hall. The windows now sparkled, letting in so much light that the energy crystals set in bowls along the walls could be conserved for night use only.

Betelgeuse’s sunlight revealed every scratch and scar left on its ancient floors by generations of warriors crossing it to warm themselves at the freshly cleaned fireplace. Isis loved every
imperfection
,
for it showed this room was used, not just a decoration.

Turning her eyes to the furniture that had been polished to a high shine, she frowned. She moved to the closest chair to inspect it further.

“Master Kaspar!” Isis shouted over her shoulder. “Come here, please.” While she added the please, no one doubted it as an order, including Kaspar.

“Yes, my Lady?” The pleasantness in Kaspar’s voice sounding forced.

“Why is this furniture in House Rigel?” she demanded, pointing to the array of furniture that had just been cleaned.

“My Lady?” Kaspar gave her a truly confused look.

“This furniture isn’t solid adhmad. Why?”

“Of course it is!” Kaspar argued.

“No. It is not!” Isis gave him an angry look. If there was one thing she knew it was adhmad. Her manno had taught her how to recognize all its different varieties in his shop along with what it looked like finished. What she was seeing here was low quality peine covered with a veneer of expensive dair to fool the eye that it was of higher quality. “This,” Isis touched the grain of a worn spot on the arm of the chair, “is peine from our southern region. It is not used in furniture such as this, because it is easily damaged. Someone has covered it with a thin layer of dair,” she touched the darker grain that had not been worn away, “to make you believe it is solid dair.”

“You are wrong,” Kaspar argued back. “I personally inspect every piece of furniture made for House Rigel.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be Master of House Rigel if you are this easily fooled,” Isis fired back. “Jael, tip this chair back.”

Jael hustled to do his Lady’s bidding as the others silently watched.

“Do you see this?” Isis pointed to the underside of one of the chair’s legs and the two different types of adhmad were easily seen by all. “Whoever made this left it this way so you would
know
it was not solid dair. If you had ‘inspected’ this, as you claim you did, then you would have known this wasn’t solid dair. I want every piece of furniture in this room tipped.” Isis ordered, looking at the other males. “
I
want to inspect each and every piece.”

“You are questioning me?” Kaspar couldn’t believe it. No one questioned him. “Questioning my abilities!” He took a threatening step towards Isis, who quickly took a step back.

“One more step and I will end you, Kaspar.” Vali’s low growl had every male in the room freezing.

Master Kaspar’s eyes bulged and a thin trickle of blood ran from his neck as Vali pressed his sword against Kaspar’s throat.

“Vali,” Isis spoke to her second male in a soft, calm voice. “Ease back.”

“
No one
,” Vali continued to growl, pressing harder against Kaspar’s throat, “threatens my mother and lives.”

“Vali. Please.” Isis tried again, carefully placing a hand on his sword arm. She’d never seen her offspring so enraged. Vali was her calm, steady one, but right now, he was vibrating with rage.

“What in the name of the Goddess is going on?” Oryon demanded, storming into the entrance hall.

Oryon had spent the morning dealing with dozens of decisions that had been left undecided in his absence. Some were important, such as training schedules and the selection of which young males he would be willing to accept for training. Those were decisions that only the Lord could make. Other decisions, he wished he didn’t have to perform, such as settling disputes about which farmer they would get their vegetables from this month and which merchant they would give the honor of replacing the House’s linens. As midday drew near, he decided it was time to see how things were going in the entrance hall. Finding Vali with his sword at Kaspar’s throat wasn’t what he had been expecting.

“This
male,
” Vali spat out, his eyes never leaving Kaspar, “threatened my mother.”

“He
what
?!!” Oryon was quickly at his Isis’ side, framing her face with his hands, his eyes searching hers. “Isis?”

“I am fine,” Isis told him, putting a reassuring hand over his.

“What happened?” Oryon demanded.

“Master Kaspar became… upset when I questioned his ability to distinguish quality furniture from inferior.”

“Furniture?” Oryon’s eyes flew to all the tipped furniture in the room.

“Yes,” Isis told him.

“You do not believe these are worthy pieces to be in House Rigel?” he asked, then looked to Vali. “Lower your sword, Vali.” When Vali didn’t immediately do as he had ordered, Oryon growled at him. “
Now Vali
! I want to hear Master Kaspar’s response.”

Slowly Vali lowered his sword, but he did not sheath it.

“You questioned my Lady’s ability in judging furniture, Master Kaspar?” Oryon asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“Sire,” Kaspar croaked out, his hand going to his injured throat. “I was merely trying to explain to your Lady that she was mistaken. I was only moving toward her to point out why. Warrior Vali overreacted to my move.”

“Really?” Oryon eyed his offspring, knowing Vali
never
overreacted. If he sensed a threat, there was one.

“Yes, my Lord,” Kaspar said.

“You question my Lady’s knowledge of furniture?”

“My Lord, I know I shouldn’t have, because of her position, but when she was so obviously wrong, I felt it was necessary to correct her. It is understandable of course, I mean, she is female.”

Oryon silently stared at Kaspar before speaking. “Did you know, Master Kaspar, that my Isis’ manno was the Master Cabinetmaker for House Torino?”

“I…” Kaspar’s gaze flew to Isis, and he found her staring back at him, standing tall and proud. “No, my Lord, I didn’t.”

“He was a rare male, was Master Geb. He believed that his female offspring should be knowledgeable and educated. He taught her many things. One of those things was his own craft, that of working with adhmad.” Oryon let his words hang there before turning back to Isis. “Show me what you have discovered, my Lady.”

Isis looked at Oryon for a moment then turned to the piece in question. “This chair is made from peine, a low quality, soft wood that’s been covered with a thin layer of dair.” She pointed to the different woods as she spoke. “I don’t believe the maker of this ever intended for someone to believe it was solid dair. If he had, he would have put a thick piece of dair on the base of every leg so no one inspecting it would know.”

“Yet there isn’t,” Oryon said.

“No, there isn’t.”

“The other pieces?” Oryon let his gaze travel around the room.

“I haven’t inspected them yet.”

“Please do so, Isis, I need to know what we are dealing with.”

Nodding, Isis turned and carefully began to inspect each piece that filled the entrance hall of House Rigel. She felt her anger grow. Every piece in this room was the same as the chair… substandard furniture. Why?

Oryon crossed his arms over his chest and silently stared at Kaspar as Isis inspected the furniture.

“My Lord,” Kaspar began.

“Silence!” Oryon ordered. “We will wait to hear what my Lady discovers.”

“But my Lord!”

“Do you want to meet
my
sword, Kaspar?” Oryon growled gripping the hilt of his sword. “Because I promise you, I will draw more blood than that pitiful trickle that my male did.”

At Oryon’s words, Kaspar stiffened, knowing that when Lord Oryon drew his sword he would strike true and Kaspar wasn’t ready to meet the Goddess this day.

Seeing Isis approach, Oryon turned his back on Kaspar.

“What did you discover, my Isis?” Oryon asked in a strong but gentle voice.

“It is all the same, peine covered with dair, but I also found a craftsman’s mark.”

“Who?”

“A Master Bard.”

“Bard?”

“Yes. You know him?”

“He is my Master Cabinetmaker. Kaspar?” Oryon’s eyes pinned the male he had trusted to run his House.

“Sire, I have no knowledge of how this could have happened.”

“Are you not the Master of House Rigel?” Oryon demanded.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Are you not in charge of running and obtaining the furnishings for this House?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Yet you claim no knowledge of this.”

“No, my Lord… I mean yes, my Lord,” Kaspar stumbled over his words. “I have no knowledge.”

“Gather your accounts, Master Kaspar, and meet me in my command center in twenty minutes.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Spinning around on his heel, Kaspar all but ran from the hall.

“Get this crap out of my House!” Oryon ordered the remaining males, who quickly rushed to do their Lord’s bidding. “Vali, escort your mother back to our chambers and remain with her.”

“Yes, Manno.”

“Oryon.” Isis put a gentle hand on his arm, frowning.

“I want to know where you are and that you are safe while I sort this out Isis. Something isn’t right.”

Isis wasn’t sure what Oryon was sensing, but she trusted him. “Alright, but may we take several of the trainees with us? We can use this time to sort through the furniture in my old chambers and have the appropriate pieces sent down for the entrance until replacements can be made.”

“Isis…” Oryon couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“I think my manno would be extremely honored to have what he built used in
your
entrance hall.” She looked around the room. “He used to tell me stories about the hunts he had here as a young warrior.” Moving, she allowed her hand to caress the silky texture of the mantle, knowing her manno had done this exact same thing sometime in the past. “How he loved to sit in front of this fireplace with the Emperor’s manno, before he was Emperor, and tell their stories…”

Isis, lost in her memories, was unaware of the effect her words had on the other males in the room.

“The honor is mine, Isis,” Oryon told her quietly. “For your manno was a truly fit, worthy and a talented male.”

“He was.” Isis felt her eyes fill with tears as she remembered her manno, remembered all he had given her, and it was so much more than furniture. He was the one who had told her she had the right to stay with just one male, if that was what she wished. He told her that he would support that decision, no matter the offspring she presented, if her male made her happy.

Isis’ own mother, Nurit, had wanted to stay with him, but when she had presented Isis, the pressure from Nurit’s manno and the promises of what other males would offer for sharing her ‘gift’ with them, had become too great and she had left. Isis didn’t think her manno had ever truly recovered.

Years later, when her mother came to help Isis present Ull, Isis discovered her mother had always regretted that decision. It had changed her; she was no longer the gentle female her manno had always told her about; she had become a spiteful and bitter female who after each offspring Isis presented, had encouraged her to leave Oryon. By the time Isis had conceived Zev, she had refused to allow Oryon to contact her, preferring to stay alone and have a Healer assist her.

It had been a difficult time and her presentation had not gone well. It is why Isis believed she had never been able to conceive again, even though she was still young enough too. It hadn’t mattered to Oryon, but she’d always wanted to give him a female.

“Isis...” Oryon reached out, cupping her cheek, when he saw her eyes cloud over and fill. He knew she had been close to her manno, closer than any female normally was and that she still mourned him. It was a tribute to the male Geb had been. Oryon wished he could say the same about her mother.

Nurit had been a conniving female and it still amazed Oryon that she could have produced such a wonderful female as his Isis. Every time he called her to assist Isis in her presentation, Nurit had demanded more and more tribute, not caring that Isis would suffer without her. She hadn’t liked that Oryon had visited Isis after she had conceived, stating it was inappropriate. Oryon couldn’t have cared less what Nurit thought. Isis was
his
female. She carried
his
offspring. It was what
Isis
thought that mattered and she wanted to see him.

“I’m sorry, I let my mind wander.” Tipping her head into his hand, Isis gave him a small smile.