Righteous Anger (Okal Rel Saga #2)

1.3: Ack Rel

Dinner was a grim and novel affair.

It was the first time Horth remembered Mother serving dinner in the reception hall at the base of the spiral stairs that led up to the Plaza. She refused to appear at meals served by commoners, and Father refused to let her serve the meal herself when Nersallians were present unless she was prepared to wait on his nobleborn guests, as well.

Lywulf dutifully waited on the guests with her. It was funny to see the best swordsman among Mother's retainers behaving like a servant. But Kene's people asked for things politely, thanked him when he filled their glasses, and generally treated him with respect. It was only Father who ignored him, except for tensing whenever Lywulf passed behind his chair.

Kene had brought a second Nesak with him, named Arn, who was a grim-looking man with tight lips and a cold manner.

"Arn commanded a trio of battlewheels in the war," Kene told Zrenyl. "Now he is a station master based in Red Reach near the jump to SanHome. It's a vital position."

Hangst accepted the next dish that Beryl set before him, sparing her a glance before fixing his eyes, coldly, on Kene once more.

"Kene gave me a sword," said Zrenyl. "It has an insignia on it that stands for the royal house of Sarn."

Hangst sipped his wine slowly, his face composed. "You already have a sword," he told Zrenyl.

"A child's sword," Zrenyl defended his enthusiasm.

Hangst dropped the subject. "SanHome sounds Demish to me," he said bluntly, looking at Kene. "How can you claim you have more in common with we Nersallians, who are Vrellish, than you do with the H'Usian Demish, who reproduce through marriage and treat their daughters differently than their sons."

It was Arn who answered. "House Nersal has been influenced by bad breeding decisions." He raised his glass half the way to his lips. "Nersal Nesak mated with a Lor'Vrel when he broke with his family and splintered a royal bloodline."

Hangst was dryly amused. "Is that an accusatory tone I detect, station master Arn?" he asked. "And should I therefore assume that it is not only my wife — that is, Beryl — who takes it as a fact that I am my ancestor, Nersal Nesak? Tell me, do all Nesaks claim to be clear dreamers, able to recognize old souls in new lives?"

"We are not all clear dreamers," Arn answered stiffly. "No."

"The history of your soul," Kene explained conversationally, "was proclaimed by Zer-sis Ackal at the end of the war, and endorsed by the council of zer'stan."

"Ah, yes." Hangst paused as Beryl collected his plate and replaced it with the next course. He had hardly touched the salad made of vegetables hand-reared in Mother's greenhouse. Knowing how much Mother cared about her plants, and how precious each harvest was, Horth made a special effort to eat all of his own salad before Lywulf picked his plate up, although he knew that it would disagree with him later. He had trouble digesting high-fiber foods.

"Di Mon believes your zer-sis is more politician than mystic," Hangst resumed. "It was a female liege of Vrel who defeated you in Red Reach, although she died doing it: Vretla Vrel, Vackal's mother. You preferred to lay the credit to my account, because you can't admit a woman could be such an able warrior. You needed some theologically satisfying explanation for why you had not prevailed. Proclaiming that a great soul — a zer-rel — was fighting on the wrong side, was expedient."

"If you are calling the zer-sis a liar on the strength of a Monatese opinion," Arn said tightly, "perhaps you had better ask yourself, first, whether you place more faith in Monatese honor than history justifies."