This also made sense. Severn waited.
The gates weren’t fully open before they halted in their figurative tracks. The guards made haste to offer a very visible obeisance to the man who stood in their partial frame. They then rose and finished what they had started, although it was hardly necessary; the gap in the partially opened gates was more than wide enough for either Severn or his escort to fit through.
Even had the behavior of the guards not been unusual, Severn would have recognized this man, although he hadn’t yet put name to him.
He was the Tha’alani castelord.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Severn had not, in his brief time as a Wolf, had cause to interact with any of the other castelords. He now knew the names of the human and Leontine Caste Court leaders; he knew what the castelord of the Barrani High Court was called by those who were not Barrani. He knew nothing of the Tha’alani Caste Court or its structure.
But he had two things: a sketch and a carved figure, if carved was the right description. This man was older than Ybelline, his hair white; some small hint of iron gray implied that it had not always been so. He wore robes of green and blue, and a carelessly tied sash that implied that he, unlike the Barrani nobles, was responsible for the state of his own clothing.
And he had not let the gate guards know—before the gates opened—that he would serve as Severn’s escort.
His entire carriage and bearing spoke of age, of the weight of age; his eyes were darkly circled, his beard slightly wispy and unkempt. His eyes were green.
The man nodded to Severn. Severn offered him a very correct Barrani bow of respect in return. He rose when the man cleared his throat.
“I am called Adellos by those who speak with me in the fashion of outsiders. Adellos Coran’alani.”
“I am called Severn Handred,” Severn replied. It was superfluous; he was absolutely certain this man knew his name.
“Yes. Come. You have asked to speak with Ybelline; she is momentarily occupied and has sent me as escort in her stead.” The old man’s smile was benign, his tone apologetic and friendly.
Severn didn’t believe a word the castelord had just spoken. For the first time since he had met Ybelline, he felt a growing dread of the Tha’alani. Dread, however, would not become terror. He bowed to the castelord.
“Come. We do not want to keep Ybelline waiting.” Adellos turned and began to walk down the street the gate bisected. Severn glanced once at the guards. They had not risen.
He had walked these streets before; the layout hadn’t changed. But the number of people, or more specifically, young children playing in them, had. They existed, but they did not leave their lawns or the area in front of their hill-like homes, and they neither approached nor gaped; nor did they lift hands to point.
He wondered what Adellos was saying or had said. And that was unfair. Adellos might not be the speaker. Scoros, however, had not had this effect on the children. Nor had either he or Ybelline had that effect on the gate guards. He felt as if he had wandered into a different Tha’alani quarter.
Because of one man.
Not two blocks passed before Severn stopped walking. His arms were at his sides; he looked as if he had paused to survey the landscape. He had.
Adellos paused half a block ahead, as if he expected Severn to simply follow. He too stopped and turned, but he had eyes for Severn; Severn’s were upon the Tha’alani, far fewer in number in the streets.
They had green eyes, or perhaps it was a trick of light and distance—but given the stillness, he didn’t think so.
“Does something trouble you?” Adellos asked, in the same benign tone.
“Yes.”
The Tha’alani castelord’s brow rose.
“There are no children in the street.”
Silence.
“There are almost no people in the street. What are you saying to them? What did you tell them?”
“I have said nothing,” he replied.
“Nothing?”
The castelord nodded.