Page 75 of Brave Truth

“Having an alternative feels good,” Matty admitted. “People who will be glad to see us. Both of us. As we are.”

“Like that.” Claudio agreed. “All right. That’s the immediate planning. I desperately need a drink, and just people not being immediately challenging on a dozen levels and also completely confusing.”

Matty eyed Claudio thoughtfully. “She got you good, didn’t she? Does Cammie need to bite her?”

“No. That’s the confusing part.” Claudio shook his head, a little like a dog shaking water out of its fur. “Might wake up at three am and go off to my study and— I don’t know. Feels like that. Sorry if I wake you, I’m not used to having to think about that.”

“You probably will. It’s not like I’m a heavy sleeper most of the time. But that’s fine. I can roll over and go back to sleep.” Two could be practical here, and the bed was, in fact, quite an inducement to that sort of response. Also it was a good argument for being at Auctoritas, where Claudio had an office and sitting room he could lurk in without keeping Matty up. “Here, I was reading the bohort predictions for the coming year.” The leagues mostly ran from September to the end of June, and the Faire, with a break in July and August for harvest and holidays and all that. “You need to eat something, yeah?”

Claudio looked down at the table, then grimaced. “Yes, please. I didn’t before. And then it was...” He was at a loss for words. Matty shook his head, signalled York, ordered food for Claudio that he was likely to eat, and some more chips for himself. That would do to be going on with. One step at a time, especially right now.

Chapter 47

Wednesday, August 16th

“Ready?” Gabe stood at the door of what was now Claudio’s office in the Council Keep. It was currently almost entirely empty, just sets of bookshelves along one wall and a desk at the end, under the window.

The desk had been Alexander’s, left along with a note for Claudio that he’d be considering further sometime later. It had apparently originally been Alexander’s older brother’s, a man who’d died long ago, back in 1889.

Alexander had, in fact, promised a bit of that history to go with the desk, whenever he came back from wherever he was on holiday. Claudio left his satchel and brought along just his notebook and pen, tucked into their usual pocket in his jacket.

He was distracted for a moment by the feel of the space. Now he was in the areas of the keep that only the Council could enter. He’d have to explore more thoroughly later. Gabe would likely be delighted to observe, of course, and to get his commentary. Claudio had spent vast stretches of his life in the public spaces, so the difference was not jarring. But there were layers, like a pearl’s nacre, that he wanted to understand and properly appreciate.

No time for that now. He had other things to do. “Ready.” Orion wasn’t hovering. Orion had gone ahead to scout the territory. The one thing Claudio regretted was that he and Orion hadn’t had time to discuss strategy here, not beyond five sentences. Claudio had been out on call until half an hour ago. That part, at least, would be fine. He and Orion had good habits and even better, a thorough understanding of each other. It would sort out. They could catch up tomorrow.

As his sponsor, Gabe would be the one to welcome Claudio into a room he’d wondered about since before he could remember. This was the mythical place his father had made his life, and then both his parents. Everyone else was already inside, waiting. The two of them walked down the hall. Gabe slipped inside, and then came back, holding the door open silently.

The room inside looked more or less as Claudio had expected, especially after Gabe’s description on Tuesday. It was large, spacious enough for the twenty-one chairs in a broad circle, with just enough gap for the door at the north centre. All but two of the chairs had people seated in them, with his mother facing the door and the window behind her.

The chair to her right was empty, and the window silhouetted her head from behind her. That was tradition for the newest member, a chance for the Head to fill them in on one detail or another without disrupting the discussion too much. Orion was settled to the right of the other empty chair. That one would be Gabe’s. Each of the seats had a clever pivoting arm to hold notes and a glass of something to drink.

Gabe had explained the massive woven rug as well, and Claudio was glad of that now, because otherwise he’d have found it tremendously distracting. The greens were beautiful, the golds held something of the glow of the prism he and Silvia had seen upstairs, the other shades reminding him of the rainbow reflected through it. He could feel the magic woven into every thread of it. Gabe’s research had turned up the design work, the way it was intended to let someone standing on it feel the emotions of those around the edge. None of the chairs overlapped it, of course.

Claudio made his way to the centre of it and made a slight bow, formally adding, “Council Head,” as Gabe took the steps toward his own seat and sat down. Silvia stood, wearing much the same style what she’d worn yesterday, though entirely different actual clothes. These were silk, not linen, and it was a dress of Council purple with a creamy white sleeveless ritual robe over it.

There was the oath. It held nothing that bothered him, though he’d want to go through the Latin of it later. Claudio followed the Latin, of course, but there were implications there that he thought wanted more time and attention. He managed not to shift his face as he thought about what he’d said to Matty earlier, that he was going into this needing to be difficult at people as a matter of professional devotion.

He made the oath, then repeated it in English, before Silvia stepped back toward her chair, met his eyes, and said, “Welcome. You have the floor, Claudio.” Then, letting her amusement show, she added, “We have some other business this evening, if you’d bear that in mind.” She was giving him free rein, then, not a limit on the time. Just his judgement.

The assembled members of the Council were too well trained— and still too many, proportionately, from Fox House— to actually murmur enough he could hear. But there was a whisper of sound, from half a dozen people at least, and from all around him.

“Thank you, Silvia.” That brought on another louder rumble, then Claudio went on without waiting for comment, flowing into the standard oath for Penelopes and the Guard when working on investigations. It committed him to speaking the truth. It was not the same as the actual truth-telling enchantments of the Courts, but everyone in the room would understand what he was underlining here. Then, his foundation set, it was time to launch himself and soar.

The first thing he did was to project the image of the tapestry from his challenge onto the wall with the door. There was enough space for people to look at it at a comfortable height. He cast it at the size and level of detail he’d seen it, which would be demanding to hold, but there was no help for it. He needed to show what he’d seen in order to discuss it.

“Colleagues,” There, a broad term, but entirely true. “I wish to begin by discussing this tapestry, shown to me in my Challenge, and what it means for us and about us. I speak of the Council, but I also speak of Albion. I speak of all those who live in England, Wales, and Scotland, all who visit, all who have a connection of any kind. Of the Cousins and the Fatae in their places, of those who dwell in the deep mines and of the ocean folk. Take a moment to have a look.” He stepped back toward Gabe, mostly to get out of the way of people wanting to inspect it more closely.

Before anyone moved, Gabe asked, by his elbow, “How long are you planning to leave that up?” The projections were common among the Penelopes. They were extremely useful when discussing specific cases or problems. The drain on vitality was worth it, almost always, but this was far more detailed than they usually ran to. Gabe didn’t move, though of course Claudio knew his eyesight was good and that he certainly had his own reading on what would come up. Orion went up, contemplating it steadily.

Claudio shrugged. “Length of the discussion.” Which would likely be at least twenty minutes, but might be twice that. Silvia had given him his head. They all knew it. He favoured an orderly meeting and one that didn’t waste time. Claudio certainly didn’t wish to press his current points past an hour. He’d lose people.

On the other hand, what he did tonight would set the tone for his entire time on the Council. More importantly, there were in fact matters that needed prompt attention. And these people were used to long and complex meetings. If they didn’t have the stamina for it, something was even more wrong than any of them realised.

“Ah. Let me lend a hand, then.” Gabe’s arm shifted, at the periphery of Claudio’s vision, then he was holding his hand out, palm down, the classic position for sharing vitality. Claudio put his under, palm up, and he could feel the warm flow, making him think of honey and herbs and sweet flowers, easing the strain of the projection. It took the others a little while to notice it. But as they looked at the image, then turned away to come back to their seats, nearly all of them acknowledged it. Silvia didn’t stand, of course. She’d had plenty of time to study it last night.

Once everyone was seated again, Claudio made a slight nod at Gabe, brought his hands together in a proper ritual sealing, then took three steps back to the centre of the rug. His space to use and to shape. “I know that some of what is shown is known to you. And I know that some is not. Does anyone have somewhere they’d like to begin?”

There was silence. Claudio counted it out, one, two, three... At the count of six, Gabe’s voice came from his left. “You know I’ll always speak for London.” Claudio couldn’t help smiling at it. Besides having lived there for a handful of years, Gabe had spent much of the war trying to keep it from falling down more than entirely necessary. As well as holding back two major floods and several minor ones, and having a general affection for the place that went far beyond his personal experiences. The rest of the Council made another brief rumble of sound, but no one broke in.