Chapter One
The banners showed quarters of alternating red and white, and in the middle where they met, a bird. Tiiran didn’t know enough about birds to know which one. He also didn’t think it mattered; at least, it didn’t matter to him. Then he reached the start of the stone corridor that led to entrance of the Great Library and saw two of those same banners hung above the library doors. They had not been there the night before and Tiiran had left well after dark.
He stopped dead, his arms trembling faintly from the weight of the overloaded tray of food for the library assistants.
The banners, bird and all, were for the family of the king. King Piya had not done anything for the library to put his name on it. He had not even appointed a Head of House to manage palace affairs, leaving the library in need of repairs that had never been approved, much like the rest of the palace.
Tiiran exhaled in irritation but continued forward. He put his head down to keep the banners out of view and to focus on balancing the tray while unlocking the doors. He poked the tip of his front tooth with his tongue as he concentrated, soothed by feeling where the once-jagged edge had grown smooth.
The library was cold, dark, and stunning: three stories high, with an arched ceiling full of windows of colored glass to let in light. Centuries-old and still standing, it would stand for centuries more if the noble houses would get their shit together and stop killing one another for a throne none of them seemed to know what to do with. Two decades of murders and battles, all apparently for the right to hang banners.
Tiiran shut the door behind him with his foot, grunting at the effort since the door was solid wood and the tray was heavy, then carried on inside, his short, soft boots making almost no sound.
The entrance doors led directly to two rows of tables and chairs used by library assistants to fulfill copy requests. Down the aisle between the rows was a tall desk. In the past, there would have been several assistants at that desk waiting to answer questions and receive mailed requests or gifts to the library. Beyond the desk was a massive spiraling staircase and a small area where visitors used to wait to be called into the offices of the various Master Keepers—the most knowledgeable of record keepers and librarians.
The waiting area was lit by a wall of windows of plain glass and one small wooden door which led to a garden, now overgrown. To one side on this level, several doors led to small offices and an informal rest area and simple kitchen. To the other side of the desk and the staircase were more shelves and cubbies, as well as the cellar entrance, currently covered by a large, threadbare rug. Out of view of the library’s main desk were several back staircases, and, tucked away in a corner, a lift box with a pulley for anything too heavy or unwieldy to be carried up or down flights of stairs. The lift box was large enough to fit a person, something every younger assistant tested at least once.
In addition to all the bookshelves, there were small nooks beneath the windows with chairs and tables for the more studious scholars who didn’t like interruptions. Some of the nooks even had fireplaces for winter work. Most of the fireplaces needed to be cleaned. Several were blocked.
Tiiran bit back some growls about that and headed to the rest area. The space held several chairs with sagging stuffing, a sink and water fountain, a small hearth built into one wall, and several counters and cabinets, empty but for supplies for tea. The room next door had a toilet and a water source, both connected to the palace’s plumbing but too old to have been built with heating.
He unloaded the tray, tucked his key into a pocket, and started a fire in the hearth to heat water, then took the plate out of the room to go to Master Keeper Toak’s office on the second level. Toak wasn’t there, of course. Dust on the chair that said Toak hadn’t been in yesterday either. Tiiran left the plate on the desk, removed the old plate full of food, then returned to the rest area for his breakfast.
Light was beginning to trickle in. It helped Tiiran feel less like growling. So did the buttery bun and the cup of spring tea he made for himself, so called because it gave people a spring in their step. He brewed the tea strong and bitter and didn’t stop for honey or cream, busying himself with taking Toak’s forgotten food outside to feed the birds and to check on the library’s two mousers.
The mousers would let it be known if they hadn’t caught any mice and were hungry, but the commotion from the birds would attract them so Tiiran could make sure they were all right. Po had told him repeatedly that the mousers would take care of themselves. After all, they had a tiny entrance near the wooden door leading out to the garden, and they came and went as they pleased, and they were both obviously well fed. Tiiran even put out bowls of water for them, but the palace gardens had many fountains, and Po said cats often wandered.
Tiiran wasn’t certain of that; when he saw the cats, they were usually in front of one of the library’s fireplaces or flopped over on a bench outside, soaking up sunshine. They didn’t seem to wander far. But then, they weren’t all that wild, although they were also not like any housecats he’d seen. Gray, named for his color, and Agate, in swirling black and brown, didn’t cuddle or sit in any laps, although they did like certain people.
Not Tiiran, obviously, though he sat on the bench to wait for them to appear and hopefully approach him.
That was what Orin had suggested, smiling indulgently one rainy afternoon while Tiiran had peered through the glass and wondered if the cats were outside or had the sense to come in. “Sometimes, one had to wait for feral cats to trust on their own.” Orin knew about people as Tiiran did not, so perhaps he knew about cats too.
But the advice felt like nonsense. The cats adoredsomepeople. Po, for one. Probably Orin, if he ever came out here for reasons other than fucking, if he did. Nikoly, somewhat aggravatingly.
It was too early in the morning for any real sun, and spring sunshine was rarely all that warm anyway, but Gray was on one of the benches, tail twitching in excitement as he watched crows swarm over the meat Tiiran had tossed them. Old and wise, Gray wouldn’t go near the birds.
Agate, young and reckless, wriggled closer to observe the chattering flock, but was sent off by a snapping crow and slowly returned to touch noses with Gray. Tiiran pointedly didn’t watch them too closely, instead looking critically at the hem of his robe which he had repaired last night with pins since he had no needle and thread. The hem had fallen the day before and ripped further when Tiiran had stepped on it.
The cats, apparently not pleased at being ignored although neither of them acknowledged Tiiran, both hopped from the bench and headed inside.
Tiiran followed them, resolving to ignore them in return if one or both of them appeared in the assistants’ rest area to sit before the fire. Po could deal with them if they wanted attention. Po claimed she had a natural appeal with half-wild animals, usually while trying to convince Tiiran to bring her a cup of tea, which he often did, if he had time.
He went back to his tea and took his cup out to the main desk, where he found a rolled-up banner of that same red and white with a bird, as well as a note from someone he didn’t know that the banner was to be hung from the staircase, “By order of the Captain of the Palace Guard, Medit Pash.”
And like that, Tiiran was growling again.
“What does Piya think he’s done for this library to warrant that honor?” Eight years Tiiran had worked in the Great Library and not once had a ruler set foot inside it, much less taken an interest in its running, yet the library was now supposed to “demonstrate the power and wisdom of King Piya.”
“Hog-fucker could try actuallyruling,” Tiiran added, then, despite the relative safety of the empty library, and the lack of any noble eyes-and-ears waiting to report Tiiran’s disrespect to anyone who would listen, he hurried back to the rest area to throw the note in the fire and stuff another bun into his mouth to keep himself from saying anything else reckless.
Lanth would have been proud, or so Tiiran hoped. At Tiiran’s defiance, almost certainly. Of his vulgarity, probably not.
Orin would advise Tiiran to try to be more careful, even while praising Tiiran for his restraint in not saying anything worse. He’d do it in that teasing way of his that never felt mean. If Orin was smiling, it was as if Orin was genuinely pleased with Tiiran, even though Tiiranwasprobably missing something obvious and Orincouldhave made fun of him. Tiiran didn’t understand many things that others seemed to but Orin didn’t mind, possibly even liked it. Tiiran should remember that the next time Nikoly started in with his hopeful, questioninggazeswhile eagerly describing the pleasures of the capital to Tiiran.
Tiiran sighed as he took the banner to the staircase, where he tossed it over the lowest railing and left the ends to trail on the ground. He’d have to dig up some twine or rope to hang it properly but that would do in the meantime. If any palace guards came in here, Tiiran would honestly claim that they would have to ask the palace Head of House for money for rope. Tiiran wasn’t reworking the library budget for rope to hang banners no one needed.
The mild protest would only buy them a little time… unless Piya was also replaced soon by some other ruler who would also fail to keep the throne.IfPiya managed to last, the bannerwouldeventually have to go higher. But if Piya actually began to run the country, Tiiran might not even mind as much.
