Guilt Edged Ivory

by Doris Egan

  "The notorious Rice Thief? Maybe they thought his reputation would add to the party. I don't know, it's the first I heard of it. Why? Is it important?"

  Ran slid the steel shutter open an inch; we were approaching the Shikron villa. He let it down again. "What will this do to the marriage proposal?"

  Lysander sighed. "I doubt if they'll let it go. On the other hand, it was Kade's idea, and he kept pushing it. It'll be easier to kill, now that he's gone."

  "Easier to kill," Ran muttered, to himself. The carriage rolled to a stop and Lysander climbed out. He helped Kylla down, and slid shut the door without a word.

  We rode back to our house in silence. When we reached there, I gave Ran a five-tabal coin to tip the driver and we climbed the two steps to the door.

  Ran said, "Do you think Stereth had anything to do with this?"

  "The gods only know," I said, tiredly. "Let's get some sleep."

  Between Scythian gold cats, murder, and old blackmailing friends, it had been a long night and day. Ran said, "The parcel light's blinking on the security station."

  "Fine. You handle it—gracious sir, First of Cormallon."

  He just looked at me. "You'll be better," he said, "when you've had a nap."

  * * *

  I was better when I'd had a nap. As a matter of fact, I was better when I'd had a full night's sleep with unobstructed breathing. As a collector of tales and an Athenan scholar, I loved to read about knights and princesses and quests, and imagine myself bumming from one perilous castle to the next; but the fact is, physical exhaustion just makes me cranky. It's not very flattering, and really, I do try—I just don't get very far in graciousness until I'm fed and rested.

  I woke up next morning, got some hermitmeat and rice from the larder, cracked open a pellfruit, and padded into the downstairs parlor balancing plates. Ran was sprawled on the divan, staring at the ceiling. I'd downed half the pellfruit while still in the pantry, and therefore looked kindly on him. He was, after all, my dearest friend and the light of my heart. I said, "Last night you said there was a parcel?"

  He turned his head. "Already took care of it. It was just the last three copies of the Capital News. They got sent to Cormallon and Jad sent them on here."

  A pile of nondescript pamphlets lay on the floor. "I see we've got today's, too. Jad must've notified them to change the address."

  The Capital News is not on the Net because it is not a very respectable publication. It has an insert called the "Gossip Gazette," and various highly placed persons try from time to time to halt its publication. But it's just too damned entertaining. Ivorans love to read about stuff like that. I understood that the Emperor got a copy every morning.

  I snagged one of the Newses, opened it on a pillow, sat on another pillow, and started to eat and read. I skipped over the trade articles and went straight to the insert. "Oh, kanz," I said.

  Ran looked up. "What?"

  "Today's date. Listen: 'What branch of the tree of six is offering its youngest blossom to a merchant house? The lovely lady E., still fresh from school, met her potential suitor at a garden party yesterday evening. We understand the gentleman in question already has one bride, but who could refuse such a rose in springtime? And here at Gossip Gazette, we've always heard that a pair beats one of a kind."

  Ran put a hand over his eyes. "They don't actually name the Poraths… what am I saying? Of course everyone will know it's the Poraths."

  "In case they're in any doubt, there's a description of the snowfall at the party. Where do they get this information?"

  "Paid off one of the guests."

  I scanned the other articles for mention of Shikrons or Poraths. "You'd think the guests at a Six Families party would be too wealthy to be tempted by whatever the Gossip Gazette can pay."

  "Huh. For all we know, some of them are on the staff."

  I closed the sheet. "This is going to make it difficult for the Poraths to back out, isn't it?"

  Ran sat up suddenly. "It may have been the Poraths who planted that item. They were already going out on a limb to commit themselves, true? Imagine the effect on poor Lysander, picking up this paper in the morning, knowing he'd never be able to argue now that Eliana wasn't publicly compromised. That's if events had gone as planned, I mean. If Kade hadn't died."

  I gave him my attention. "You think that was sorcer-ously caused?"

  "I know it. The entire field of balance changed. And anyway, common sense will tell you that a man who doesn't know how to swim won't suddenly dive off a boat. Not when he's in his right mind."

  In his right mind. I thought back over what I'd studied of the field. Sorcery cannot really affect the mind directly, but it can deceive the mind through physical changes. Giving a person the physical symptoms of fear can convince him he's afraid of something; the symptoms of lust or hunger were likewise easy to stimulate. "A fire spell? Raise his body temperature, convince him he's burning up?"

  "It's how I would do it," said Ran. Then he added, "If I were going to do it publicly, which I never would."

  "I don't know, it seems so unlikely. Wouldn't he just call for help? I mean, diving into the canal! He knew he couldn't swim, odds were good he'd die anyway—"

  "Sweetheart, I see you've had the good fortune never to be near a major fire disaster. People dive off twelve-story buildings with nothing but stone underneath when their rooms catch fire. There's no force more persuasive." I had been in a fire, once, but it had been a small one, and thankfully I'd lost consciousness early on. Ran continued, "Actually, using a fire spell to kill by water is really a charming conceit, sorcerously speaking."

  "And which of the guests do you think did it?"

  It was indeed the question. Ran considered it, as I knew he'd been considering since it happened; then he said, regretfully, "We don't have sufficient data."

  "We could make wild guesses."

  "So could the Gossip Gazette. Though I doubt that they will, it's too close to real news." He walked over to join me, and I gave him a slice of fruit. "I'll have to make a condolence call this morning on Jusik Porath. It's my duty as the First of Cormallon, and having had the bad luck to be on the scene when it happened, I suppose I can't get out of it."

  "Do I have to go?" I was willing to foist this one off on others if I could; rather the way Ran was somehow never around on major housecleaning days. I suppose it all evened out.

  He shook his head. "If you were close to Grandmother Porath or Eliana, they'd expect you to call on them; but you'd still be under no obligation."

  Ran had shed his outerrobe when he came in. Now he opened his underrobe, stretched his legs out on the carpet, swallowed a piece of fruit, and sighed in pleased physicality.

  "Nice legs, stranger," I said in Standard. "You new in town?"

  He laughed, nearly choking on the fruit. He slid an arm around my waist and said, "A man not married to a barbarian doesn't know what he's missing." He kissed the back of my neck. "Moon of my heart," he said in Ivoran.

  Just then the doorbells jangled. We froze, like two children caught playing doctor in the back garden. I said, "If we wait, they'll go away."

  He pulled his underrobe together. I said, "Ignore it."

  But I knew better than that. The First of Cormallon never ignores doorbells. Or Net messages, or parcel signals, or mail of any kind. There's always a chance it might be something his duty requires of him. He pulled himself to his feet and slipped on a respectable pair of embroidered house slippers.

  I waited for him to come back. Several minutes passed. I heard a heavy tread of feet in the passage; two pairs of feet, by the sound of it. The slippered pair was clearly Ran's, but his footfall was silent by nature—he was warning me that company was on its way. His voice came from the passage, overly loud: "This way, if you don't mind, noble sir; my wife is within."

  I jumped up and kicked the cushions out of the way and ran a hand through my hair and checked to see my robe was done up correctly. It's not always easy to go from bein
g freewheeling Theodora of Pyrene to a respectable Cormal-lon matron. Was there time to grab the plates? I dived for them, heard footsteps just outside the doorway, and straightened up again. Close enough. The noble sir, whoever he was, should have sent word he was coming, and would have to deal with life as it was rather than the more courteous fiction it could be.

  The divider from the passage is just a thick cotton tapestry, half open; Ran flung it the rest of the way and bowed like a proper host.

  And in walked Jusik Porath. He hadn't even changed his clothes.

  Chapter 5

  Ran threw me a bated look and said, "Apparently the noble sir has anticipated my call, Theodora."

  Jusik, who was striding into the room like an army on the march, stopped short. "Your call?"

  "Of condolence," said Ran. "I was just remarking to my wife that I should go and present my family's regret at this tragedy to your House."

  "Condolence call," repeated Jusik. "Yes. Of course. Might I sit down?"

  Ran gestured to a tasseled cushion far from my plates, and Jusik seated himself with the air of one making a conscious effort of control. Up close he looked both tired and restless, the lines in his face more pronounced. I'd watched him at the garden party and on the boat, and—when not placating his mother—he'd struck me as a man used to getting his own way, as the First of Porath no doubt would be. He hardly seemed separable from his family, when you thought of him: Father, son, first of his House, representative of one of the six noble branches; it was what he was. As he probably would tell you if you were presumptuous enough to ask.

  So why at this moment, as he sat on the cushion in our parlor, did I have the sense that he was here all alone? He seemed… so much an individual. So un-Ivoran.

  I didn't even know the man, but suddenly I felt very sorry for him. On impulse I knelt on the carpet, met his eyes, and said, "We mean it, you know. This must be terrible for you. If there's anything we can do…"

  He seemed slightly taken aback. The barbarian breaks ritual again. Probably there was a set of statement and reply we were supposed to follow here, and probably Ran was supposed to do it in any case. My sincerity must have been plain, however, as he was not offended: He even broke ritual himself long enough to lean over and touch my hand, before he gave up trying to deal with the out-lander, took a deep breath, and turned back to Ran.

  "Well, here I am," he said.

  "I beg your pardon?" said Ran.

  "Here I am. Surely you expected me."

  Ran and I looked at each other.

  You have any idea?

  Not a clue. I rolled my eyes toward Jusik briefly as though to add, What can you expect? Maybe he's unbalanced by grief.

  Ran said, "Uh, perhaps the noble sir could be more explicit?"

  Jusik glanced at me. "I wonder if your gracious wife should remain."

  The man deserved a lot of slack, of course, but this vagueness could get just a little irritating. Ran said, "I wonder if you could give me some idea of what we're talking about."

  This was treading a bit toward direct speech early in a social call; but clearly Jusik had something on his mind… and the truth, I may as well tell you now, is that Ran really didn't care much about Jusik, Kade, or the whole lot of Poraths wherever they may be. He had people of his own that he spent his worry on. Not that he would dream of being discourteous.

  Jusik coughed. "I've been very polite, I think, gracious sir. I've come alone—no security, no retainers of any kind, check the street outside. I come here in all good faith, and I really don't think that I deserve to be passed over like this—"

  "Sir!" Ran had dropped the "noble."

  "We realize that you've had a terrible shock. That you're under enormous strain. I hate to be crude at such a time, but let me put this as simply as I can: / have no idea what you're talking about."

  Jusik blinked. "Then you refuse to answer my questions."

  "Sir, it is you who refuse to ask them."

  I touched his sleeve to get Jusik's attention. "Noble sir,

  I'm a barbarian, remember? Be as simple and clear as you can be, and tell me why you've come."

  He was deciding whether or not to be insulted. I added, "Please?"

  Ran was about to say something else. Hidden by our robes, I jabbed him in the thigh. I didn't want to distract Jusik's attention from me, or it might take hours to get him to talk sensibly. As soon as he went back to Ran, he'd expect to be understood. Not being understood by a barbarian is normal.

  "Lady Theodora, I'm here on a business matter, relating to some work of your husband's. That's all."

  I jabbed Ran again and smiled at Jusik. "You refer to the sorcery business?"

  "Of course. The House of Cormallon is unequaled in its practice."

  "The noble sir is too kind. Such compliments are no less treasures than the gold of our House." Spend a year or two on Ivory and you'll be able to toss this stuff off, too. "Now, are you saying that you want to hire my husband to perform some sorcerous assignment for your House?"

  "Gracious lady… not exactly. Rather, I wish to consult with him on his present assignment."

  "Really. His present assignment. And which assignment would that be?"

  Jusik shifted uncomfortably. "Umm, the assignment of yesterday. That is… the assignment… of yesterday."

  The First of Porath, known for firmness to the point of tyranny, was near to stuttering. Ran leaned over then, and I sat back on my heels. "Is the noble sir under the impression that I killed his son?"

  The adjectives are flowery on Ivory, but they don't mince their verbs. Jusik Porath looked even more uncomfortable. A lifetime of training was holding him back: The Six Families, who so often practice murder as an art form, regard straight business assassination as the lowest of taste. It was sometimes unavoidable, but one never talked about it.

  Jusik met Ran's eyes with dignity. "I come as is my responsibility, as the First of my House. I come to ascertain what danger we may be in. To see what it is your employer wants of us. So public an… incident, surely can be nothing but a warning. I should be at home, sir, seeing to my family,

  but I am here in fulfillment of my duty. I dared not wait. I trust that you will respect the… restraint… I have shown."

  Ran was momentarily speechless. Jusik said, impatiently, "Is it war? Whom has my House offended? You could not expect me not to ask you, not when your work was done in full view of the world!"

  "Sir, do you think I'd assassinate a member of your family while I was your guest?"

  "Isn't that what sorcerers do?"

  The gulf between the first and second tiers of aristocracy had never seemed so wide. The scary thing was that Jusik could be so controlled about it—he could be that way because his pain and anger weren't directed at Ran. I don't think he thought any more of Ran than he thought of a gun or a knife, or a soup ladle.

  Gods! Did Ran ever think of himself purely in terms of functionality? I needed to give this some thought, when time presented.

  Ran said, "It's not what / do. And it's not what Cormal-lon does. I don't speak for the rest of the world." Or give a damn about it, either, said his voice. "To target your son would be discourteous and stupid both. There are far more subtle ways of killing people than a long run off the side of a boat. This whole action has the stamp of the amateur on it, and amateur sorcerers are fools of the worst stripe."

  That all came from the heart. Jusik listened in silence. I said, "It's true, noble sir. I handle the bookings for my husband; if he were on any assignment, I would know about it."

  Jusik glanced at me. Come on, I thought, look at me: A barbarian. An idiot child. Wouldn't know how to lie. Barely can get my shoes on—

  He let out his breath. "Possibly," he said.

  Ran said, "Sir, believe me, the House of Cormallon would never get involved in such an obvious project. It's only a matter of time before the sorcerer's run to ground—"

  "Is it?" cut in Jusik.

  "How not? The sor
cerer was either on the boat itself, or his spell was grounded on some person or thing on board.

  There's only a finite set of possibilities, and I assume Porath will spare no effort in following each one up."

  Jusik said, slowly, "I've heard that the employment of magic leaves an 'echo' that can be traced. I suppose the first step would be to hire a sorcerer of our own to do the trace…"

  Ran was shaking his head. "There are reasons why that probably won't work—"

  "Don't tell me them." Jusik put up his hand. "I see that I need an expert for this. Would you be willing to take it up?"

  Ran's eyes widened. "Sir, just a minute ago you suggested—" He stopped, glanced around the room as though the proper phrases might be somewhere under one of the dirty dishes, then started again. "Noble sir, you've just had a shock. It's not for me to suggest a course of action for your House. I entered your property on a social basis; I would prefer to keep it that way."

  "I'll be very busy for the next few days," said Jusik, straightening his robe as he spoke. He sat up straighter, seeming to put on the House of Porath again with every gesture. "It would be a great favor to me personally, if you would take up this task for us."

  "With all respect—"

  "And it would give us an opportunity to talk over this marriage idea."

  Another silence while we assimilated this.

  Jusik added, "Although it would be a favor, I don't mean to suggest there would be no fee involved—"

  Ran shook his head—not in negation, more as though he'd been hit by a few too many sandbags. "I'm sure your fee would be… would you mind if I discussed this with my wife?"

  "Not at all! I have to leave in any case." He rose to his feet with that born Ivoran grace I'll never match if I live to be two hundred. "There's no need for any delay, if the proposal finds your favor. You would have the run of my house, my grounds, the boat. Simply send a message, and I'll notify everyone to give you full cooperation." He smiled at us both and bowed. Then he turned to Ran and added, "I would prefer a swift solution."