Part 17 (1/2)
”I have also a message from Lord yos'Phelium.”
The big mouth curved in a smile. ”Do you? And what has my brother to say?”
Korval's man of business paused. The message was an odd one-flippant to the point of outrage.
However, it seemed certain that young Val Con had inherited his father's devious directness, and Mr.
dea'Gauss believed the true message lay far within the one he was bidden to deliver. Carefully, striving for the original phrasing, he said, ”He asked me to tell you that he believes a successful scout and a successful thief must share certain vital characteristics. He thanks you for the suggestion of an avocation and asks further what he may be honored to steal for you first.”
Shan laughed. ”Renegade. He should have been drowned at birth. How long does he stop at home?”
Mr. dea'Gauss allowed himself a sniff to indicate his disapproval of this manner of speaking of Korval's Heir and replied stiffly. ”He had been on Liad a bare quarter relumma when he was suddenly recalled to his duties as scout. He left the planet, I believe, the very day I was called before the First Speaker. It was only by chance that I was privileged to see him for a moment and exchange greetings.”
Shan considered him. ”Suddenly recalled by the scouts, was he?”
”Yes, my lord, and a sad blow it was to Lady Nova. She had invited Lady Imelda to guest. I believe she looked for a contract marriage in that direction, so that his Lords.h.i.+p might fulfill his duty to the Clan.”
”Is she feeling better now?” Shan asked solicitously.
Mr. dea'Gauss blinked. ”I beg pardon, your Lords.h.i.+p? Is who feeling better?”
”My sister. Of all the ladies she might have tried to force down Val Con's throat!”
”Lady Imelda,” the old gentleman said severely, ”is from a good Clan. She is honorable and quite complaisant.”
”Quite complaisant. And neither stupid enough nor brilliant enough to pull it off. Val Con would have been at the screaming point within a relumma.” They paused by an indigo-colored door. ”I will give you any odds you name, sir, that that sudden recall by the scouts came after a personal request to be recalled.”
There were several answers to this, none of them proper. Mr. dea'Gauss maintained an icy silence. His Lords.h.i.+p grinned and bowed. ”Your room, sir. I trust you will find everything exactly as you wish it. The amba.s.sadorial reception will be at Twenty Hours. I hope to see you among the merrymakers.”
There was nothing for Mr. dea'Gauss but to make his bow and enter his room.
Shan moved toward his own quarters, his long stride eating distance while he frowned in thought.
It was true that the lad must do his duty to the Clan. Everyone must provide the Clan with his or her personal heir. Even Shan, the reprobate, the cynic, had given Korval a daughter who would in time take his place at the head of Line yos'Galan; at the head of the Pa.s.sage... d.a.m.n them both for being at such loggerheads! If only Nova would try to enlist Val Con to the task of discovering some suitable lady, all might yet come out right.
Shan sighed, stopped in the middle of his sleeping room, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply andevenly, as he had been taught so long ago by the Master Healers. Slowly, the worries-familiar, professional, personal-stilled.
One thing at a time, he reminded himself with forceful calm.
An image of Priscilla as he had last seen her, the light of battle in her face as she confronted two harried inspectors, rose before his inner eye.
With a groan, he dropped onto the bed and closed his eyes.
You want too much, your Lords.h.i.+p, he told himself. Try to be worthy of her friends.h.i.+p. If you're very lucky, you'll manage it.
He rose from the bed and wandered toward the 'fresher, stripping off his clothes as he went. He stepped into the needle spray, resolutely turning his thoughts to the coming reception and what profit might be earned from it.
s.h.i.+PYEAR 65.
TRIPDAY 148.
FOURTH s.h.i.+FT.
17.00 HOURS.
”You must have a dress!”
”Lina-”
”No!” the small woman cried, taking her friend's hand. ”You attend the reception properly attired. I will hear no more!”
Priscilla stood her ground and bit her lip. ”Lina, I'm sorry-truly sorry. But I don't have any money, my dear. None. And I'm already into my wages for the cost of the clothes I'm wearing now.
A-party-dress...”
”Bah!” Lina flung up a tiny hand, then swung close, pressing lightly against the taller woman's side. ”I shall provide the dress, and you shall wear it to please me, eh?” She smiled. ”All is arranged!”
Priscilla smiled and shook her head. ”I can't ask you to do that, Lina. Why should you-”
”Why should I not?” Lina interrupted. ”We are sisters-you said it yourself! Should I allow my sister to go improperly clad? And far from asking, you make it astonis.h.i.+ngly difficult to gift you!” She laughed and pulled on Priscilla's hand, urging her to the entrance of the general stores. ”Come, denubia. You must learn to accept a gift with grace.”
The Terran woman chuckled. ”Another protocol lesson? Next you'll be telling me to wear the earrings the captain gave me!”
”And why should you not?” Lina demanded. ”The design is pleasing; I think they will look very well on you. Shan is honorable-he does not gift and then cry 'owed!'” She looked up into her friend's face. ”The earrings are yours, Priscilla. A gift, freely given. No hurt can come from wearing them.” She pulled her companion through the first storeroom, past the working clothes and everyday boots, past even thefestive tunics and softshoes, into the room beyond, where dream fabrics drew the eye from all directions and the air smelled of Festival-time.
”I don't think...” Priscilla began, staring about her like a thing half-wild.
”Bah!” Lina said again, allowing no time for refusals. ”Why should you not have a dress that becomes you?” She came close once more and extended both a hand and a mental touch of comfort to still the beginning panic. ”Priscilla, you are lovely. It is added joy that you are so. Why not pleasure yourself-and those who see you-by wearing beautiful clothes? The occasion demands it!”
But Priscilla was no longer listening. She bent and stroked Lina's hair lightly, then slid a hand beneath the small chin and tipped her face so the light fell on it. Lina met the sparkling black gaze calmly, all Roads open and clear, the Wall at her back.
”You are of the Circle,” Priscilla murmured, perhaps to herself. ”I can feel the warmth coming out of you, like a hearth fire, my friend. And before-the pain-then the healing...” The hand withdrew; Lina kept her face tipped fully up, eyes steady.
”Are you Wife, Lina? Or Witch?”
”I have been a wife-twice by contract, as is proper. And I am mother of two sons: Bey Lor and Zac.
By trade I am librarian; by training I am Healer. I do not know what a Witch is, my friend.”
”Healer?” Priscilla frowned. ”A Healer is-Soul-weaver, we say, on Sintia. When someone is sick in spirit...”
”When one does not accept joy,” Lina agreed. ”Shan says the proper Terran word is 'empath.'” She hesitated. ”I am not sure. It seemed from my readings-for a Healer may not aid everyone. There are those I cannot feel at all. And there is training to be undergone, protections to be learned, techniques to be mastered.”
”Yes, of course.” Priscilla was still frowning. ”But You,” Lina interrupted, ”were fighting joy, denying both laughter and the possibility of kindness. It could not continue so! I had the means to aid you. Why should I not?” She swayed close, regardless of other persons in the room, all Roads open yet. ”Priscilla? Sisters. You said it. I do not deny it.”
There was a flare of pain like thrown acid, followed by a surge of joy nearly as searing. Lina put her arms around her friend's waist and hugged her tight, feeling Priscilla's arms pull her tighter.
”Sister and friend...” After a final, nearly bone-crus.h.i.+ng squeeze, Lina felt herself released and realized that the Roads bore the other woman's clear, singing happiness; she retained enough wit to shut herself away from the intoxication.
”Come,” she said, smiling and taking Priscilla's hand. ”Let us choose you a magnificent dress!”s.h.i.+PYEAR 65 TRIPDAY 148.