“That was certainly not my intent,” Thalias said, knowing full well that she wasn’t fooling him in the slightest. “But since you bring up the Trials, when will I know if I passed them?”
“You think too much like a schoolgirl,” Thurfian said sourly. “The Trials aren’t an essay to be graded and returned after class.” His lip twisted. “Yes, you passed. You’re now a Trial-born of the Mitth. Congratulations. Get in.”
“Thank you,” Thalias murmured.
She sat sideways in her seat as they headed out, watching the mansion, the mountain, and the homestead fading in the distance behind them, until the tunnel wall abruptly blocked it from her sight. She’d never dreamed she would actually meet the Patriarch of her adoptive family, let alone have a long and serious conversation with him. She would hold that meeting, and her promises to him, locked away in her heart.
And even as a new chapter of her life was beginning, so now did an era in the Mitth family’s life draw to a close.
Once, it was said, the March of Silence in Convocate Hall had been used by leaders of the Ruling Families to arrange for their enemies’ censure, imprisonment, or execution. Its construction and acoustics were such that a conversation could realistically hold no more than four or five people without those on the outside edge being unable to hear what was being said in the center.
But that had been thousands of years ago. Now, with the enlightenment that came from political maturity, the March had become a gathering place for Speakers and syndics who wished to discuss political matters without one of them having to show the weakness inherent in meeting in another’s office.
As Councilor Thurfian watched Councilor Zistalmu approaching from the other end of the March, he wondered if the Irizi would appreciate the irony of the proposal he was about to lay out.
Zistalmu’s path was by necessity somewhat meandering as he carefully skirted the other conversational groups at distances calculated to avoid unintentional eavesdropping. Finally, he reached Thurfian and stepped up beside him. “Aristocra Thurfian,” he said, nodding.
“Aristocra Zistalmu,” Thurfian returned the greeting. “Let me get straight to the point. I understand the Irizi have approached Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru about detaching from the Mitth and joining your family.”
A flicker of surprise and suspicion touched Zistalmu’s usually unreadable expression. “I was under the impression such offers were confidential until and unless they were finalized.”
“It was a chance overhearing,” Thurfian said. “I also understand that he declined your offer.”
“Not officially,” Zistalmu hedged. “The offer remains open.”
“No, he’s declined it,” Thurfian said. “You’ve seen Thrawn’s record. He doesn’t hesitate when he sees a tactical advantage. If he hasn’t accepted by now, the answer is no.”
“Perhaps.” Zistalmu eyed him. “I presume you didn’t invite me here simply to gloat at our failed attempt.”
“Not at all,” Thurfian said. “I invited you here to see if you had any interest in bringing him down.”
The unreadable expression held firm this time. But Thurfian could tell it was a near thing. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple enough,” Thurfian said. Zistalmu could cause immense trouble for him, he knew, if he repeated any of this to one of the Mitth Councilors or syndics. But Thurfian had a good feel for Zistalmu’s goals and politics, and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen. “I’ve seen Thrawn’s record, too. He has the potential to do great things in the service of the fleet. He also has an equal potential of bringing ruin to the Mitth, and possibly to the entire Ascendancy.”
Zistalmu favored him with a mocking smile “Bringing ruin to the Mitth doesn’t sound so bad.” The smile faded. “But the Ascendancy is another matter.”
“Then you agree with me?”
“I don’t know how you made that jump from a simple comment in favor of the Ascendancy,” Zistalmu said. “But if we’re being honest…yes, I see the same potential for both glory and disaster.”
“Though the rest of the Irizi apparently don’t.”
Zistalmu waved a hand. “The recruitment offer was their attempt to steal Thrawn away from the Mitth. I doubt any of them bothered to look deep enough into his record to see what you and I are seeing. So what exactly are you proposing?”
“At this point, nothing but watchfulness,” Thurfian said, feeling a slight lessening of his tension. “That should be easy to do, given that our two families have already assigned us to watch over military matters. We simply continue that procedure, only with an eye toward coordinating our response if we see something dangerous in the works.”
“Won’t be easy,” Zistalmu cautioned, his eyes narrowed in thought. “For whatever reason, he seems to have made staunch allies of General Ba’kif and Commodore Ar’alani. Those are powerful and influential people.”
“I agree,” Thurfian said. “Ba’kif’s probably untouchable, but Ar’alani was once Irizi. She might still be amenable to pressure.”
“I doubt it,” Zistalmu said sourly. “I’ve talked with her once or twice since her promotion, and she’s very intent on upholding her new nonfamily status.”
“Then we focus on Thrawn,” Thurfian said. “And, perhaps, some of his less highly placed allies.”
“You’d know more about that than I would,” Zistalmu said. “Very well. We’ll watch, and wait, and see.” He looked around. “And of course, we’ll speak of this to no one.”
“Absolutely,” Thurfian said. “Thank you, Aristocra. Hopefully, we’ll never be called upon to act. But if we are…?”
“Then we act.” Zistalmu gestured around the corridor. “I trust you noted the irony of our discussion, given the March of Silence’s reputed history.”
“I did,” Thurfian said. “We’ll speak again, Aristocra.”
“Indeed we will.” With a nod, Zistalmu turned and walked away in the direction of his office.
And as Thurfian turned in the other direction, a belated thought occurred to him. The March’s history spoke of some of the Aristocra being dealt with for crimes occasionally as dark as treason. The question was whether Thrawn would be the object of any such future charge, or whether it would be Thurfian and Zistalmu.
Only time would tell.
Thrawn and Che’ri were gone for nearly five weeks, and with each day that passed Thalias felt her soul die a little more. She should have been out there with them, she knew, facing the same dangers they were facing. The fact that her Trials gambit had thrown Thurfian off the scent didn’t really count as being useful to their mission.