Traitor's Moon

pavilion that stood there.
    Arched openings on each of its eight walls afforded pleasant views of the valley, inside, smooth blocks of black stone served as benches and tables. Standing there alone, he could easily imagine the house’s original inhabitants sitting around him, enjoying the cool of the evening. For an instant he could almost hear the lost echo of voices and footsteps, the rise and fall of music played on unknown instruments.
    The scuff of leather against stone startled him and he jerked around to find Seregil grinning at him from the doorway.
    â€œDreaming with your eyes open?” he asked, crossing to the window that overlooked Adzriel’s house.
    â€œI guess so. What’s this thing called?”
    â€œA
colos.
”
    â€œIt feels haunted.”
    Seregil draped an arm around Alec’s shoulders. “And so it is, but there’s nothing to fear. Sarikali is a city dreaming, and sometimes she talks in her sleep. If you listen long enough, sometimes you can hear her.” Turning Alec slightly, he pointed across to a small balcony near the top of his sister’s house. “See that window up there, to the right? That was my room. I used to sit there for hours at a time, just listening.”
    Alec pictured the restless grey-eyed boy Seregil must have been, chin propped on one hand as he listened for alien music seeping from the night air. “Is that when you heard them?”
    Seregil’s arm tightened around his shoulders. “Yes,” he murmured, and for one brief moment his face looked as wistful as that lost child’s. Before Alec could do more than register the emotion, however, Seregil was his old bantering self again. “I came to tellyou that the baths are prepared. Come down as soon as you’re ready.”
    And with that he was gone.
    Alec lingered a bit, listening, but heard only the familiar bustle of his fellow travelers settling in.
    Beka declined a room in the main house in favor of a small side room in the barracks.
    â€œI haven’t seen a decent fortification since we got here,” Mercalle grumbled, looking the place over.
    â€œMakes you wonder what happened to those Bash’wai folks,” Braknil observed. “Anyone could ride in and take the place.”
    â€œI’m no happier about it than you are, but it can’t be helped,” said Beka. “Get watch fires started, give the place a thorough inspection, and set guards at all entrances. We’ll rotate everyone between guard duty here, escort detail for Klia, and free time. That ought to keep them from getting bored too quickly.”
    â€œI’ll keep those off duty to standard city drill,” said Mercalle. “No less than three in a group, old hands watching out for the new ones, and keep them close to home for the first few days until we see how warm our welcome really is. Judging by some of the Aurënfaie I saw today, there’s likely to be a bit of chest thumping.”
    â€œWell said, Sergeant. Pass the word, all of you; if there is any trouble with the ’faie, Commander Klia doesn’t want steel drawn unless life is about to be lost. Is that clear?”
    â€œAs spring rain, Captain,” Sergeant Rhylin assured her. “It’s better politics to take a punch than to give one.”
    Beka sighed. “Let’s hope it never comes to that. We’ve got enough enemies back over the sea.”
    Entering the long main room of the barracks, she found Nyal stowing his modest pack next to one of the pallets.
    â€œYou’re bunking in with us, then?” she asked, feeling another odd little flutter below her breastbone.
    â€œShouldn’t I?” he asked, reaching uncertainly for his pack again.
    From the corner of her eye she saw Kallas and Steb exchange knowing grins. “We still need you, of course,” she replied tersely. “I’ll have to consider how to assign you, now that we’ll be splitting into details. Perhaps Lady Adzriel can find me another interpreter or two. We can’t expect you to be everywhere at once, can we?”
    â€œI shall do my best to be, nonetheless, Captain,” he replied with awink. But his smile faltered as he added, “I think it might be best if I don’t attend the feast tonight, though. You and your people will be well looked after by the Bôkthersans.”
    â€œWhy not?” asked Beka, surprised. “You’re living here in