Guilt Edged Ivory

by Doris Egan

  However they'd come to their conclusion, it was a correct one. I had no intention of telling any Tellysian officials about them. Even if I had, all the Tellysian officials were at the embassy, and it was more than possible Van Gelder had some system in place there for dealing with civilians who tried to bring embarrassing things to their attention.

  It occurred to me that it must be useful for the Tolla, having a junior ambassador in their pocket. Maybe their influence went even further than that; I'd never been to Tellys and had no feel for their pattern of views in general, but it was no secret that the Kingdom was not well-liked there, to say the least. Quite apart from their politics, Unity citizens couldn't help but feel that the Selians had had a lot of nerve, seceding the way they did. There must be a good amount of underground support for the Tolla there— surely there was sympathy for their aims, if not their methods.

  If they really were a power at home, allying with the Tolla might not be a bad idea for Cormallon. As long as it was a secret alliance. And a group like the Tolla must be pretty used to the concept of secrets.

  She said, "Will you at least take the proposal to your husband? He is the First of his House, is he not?"

  "Ambassador Van Gelder, I'm still at sea as to what your proposal is."

  "Keleen, please."

  "Keleen." Always glad to address a member of a dangerous terrorist group by their first name.

  "The Tolla face certain problems currently," she said, in a brisk, businesslike tone. That reference to "our cause" a minute ago was the closest she tended to come to speaking of the group in the first person; it was always third-person, always an official distance. "First, Unity nationals are searched before entering the Kingdom. And in the last planetary year, the Kingdom has begun searching people who are traveling internally from territory to territory.

  Even long-range weapons that are already on Kingdom soil need transport, obviously; and then there's the matter of getting recharges to those weapons."

  "I see." Nobody had ever spoken to me before on the subject of weapons running. I may have given up my opportunity for a degree on Athena, but living on Ivory is an education in itself.

  "It's not like this planet; the officials are very chancy when it comes to bribery. There are always old-fashioned items like knives and clubs that can't really be controlled, but I'm sure you see at once that the proximity required for application makes capture much more likely."

  "Oh, definitely. First thing I thought of."

  She took me seriously. "Well, it goes without saying. So some people have been looking into the matter of weapons transport in general. The majority have been approaching this from the angle of transport; but it occurred to… others… that it might be rewarding to approach from the angle of the weapons themselves."

  "You just said that knives and clubs…"

  She smiled faintly. "Living on this world cannot help but give one a more creative attitude as to what constitutes a weapon."

  "… Oh."

  "I understand the tragedy of young Kade Porath has been traced to sorcery."

  "Yeah, I'd heard that, too."

  "A vivid demonstration of its capabilities, I must admit—"

  I sat up straight. "What do you mean, demonstration? Was Kade's death some kind of demo for you people? Are you already negotiating with some other House?"

  She seemed honestly surprised. "Good lord, no. When we get to the demo stage I'm sure we can find someone less visible than a first son of the nobility. What do you take us for?"

  "Honestly, I have no idea what to take you for. You'll have to tell me."

  Jack Lykon said, "The Tolla had nothing to do with Kade Porath. It's true. I mean, for god's sake, Theodora— that would be murder."

  I let that line lie.

  Van Gelder said, "My principals' only wish is to enter into a long and profitable relationship with your House. I understand the penalties for using sorcery in an organized way here—against the government, that sort of thing—can be quite severe. But let me point out, there are no such laws on Tellys. Sorcery is not even recognized there. This would seem to open up a whole new area of expansion for Cormallon, Theodora. Surely it would be your duty to communicate my offer."

  "I'll think it over."

  "Good plain Ivoran tabals would be placed in your House account—no nasty, suspicious foreign money, I promise. In return, a consultant relationship would be opened, regarding how best to handle the weapons problem I described earlier." She reeled it off as though from a business contract. "No actual sorcerer would have to travel to Tellys to do the executions, not unless it proves absolutely necessary. Some form of weapon that can be used by any knowledgeable person will do the trick nicely."

  I raised my hands. "You've made it all very clear, ambassador." Suddenly I'd had enough of murder for the day. I found myself wishing I could lie down and sleep for twenty hours, like Kade's grandmother.

  Van Gelder seemed to sense my withdrawal. "I hope I haven't offended in any way, Theodora. I was under the impression that your husband took on assassinations from time to time himself, so it hardly seemed—"

  "Yes, I know. All right." I stood up. "I'll consider passing the matter on."

  Jack Lykon rose at once and shook my hand. I still couldn't see him as Tolla. It would be easier to imagine him as a country veterinarian, rising to a spot of mild indignation only over the occasional mistreatment of puppies. I said, "I may want something from you, though."

  "Me?" He looked surprised.

  "I'll let you know," I said. Reflex almost made me bow, but I caught it in time and confined myself to a polite smile in the ambassador's direction.

  She said, "I have a carriage at the Lin Entrance."

  "Thank you, I'd prefer to walk. I have some thinking to do."

  She inclined her head. "A very great pleasure, Theodora, whatever you decide."

  Well, that's why she was an ambassador. I left the terrace, made my way to the upper level of the grounds, and took the Walk of Plum Trees down its ruler-straight course to the Kyi Entrance. From there it's about a half hour to our house.

  I like to walk in the early evening, when a cool hand finally lays itself on the feverish skin of a capital summer day. Of course, by then any passing breath of air is considered cool, not to mention blessed. The shops next to the Kyi Entrance of the Imperial Park are known for their ridiculous prices; it's fun to look in the windows, guess the tag amount, then peer closer and have the shock of seeing how thoroughly your imagination has underestimated.

  So, while playing this innocent game I considered the less innocent ones being proffered by these two Tellysians. What should I do? Probably I ought to disapprove of the Tolla, but the truth was that I didn't. At the same time, I had no wish to get personally involved; by nature I'm neither a martyr nor a soldier, and had my hands full just trying to lead an honorable life where I was. As for Ran—I tried to imagine Ran agreeing to share House secrets with any ally of less than five hundred years, and failed miserably.

  This seemed to get us nowhere. At the same time, Jack Lykon was a genalycist, and a genalycist would be a useful person to have in my life this particular year. If only—

  I passed a shop with an antique book on display; a gold-encrusted cover, opened with a key, and the words "Stories of the Third Empire" in gold and crimson letters of ancient calligraphy.

  I collect stories, you know. At one time I thought it was a vocation, but lately I've come to wonder whether it's a hobby. Whatever the stories of the Third Empire were, I could probably track them down more cheaply elsewhere—

  Stories. I'd collected stories from Ran's family, too. Tall stories, legends, anecdotes, recollections—not all of them believable, but all of them interesting, and none, unfortunately, released for public consumption. They were in a notebook back in my room in Cormallon, tucked under a pile of things on a table by the window. I hadn't taken them out in months; hadn't been back at Cormallon in weeks.

  Damn, I couldn't rem
ember the details, but hadn't there been one about a similar alliance? One of Ran's legions of aunts had told me, when she was passing through the estate on her way to some kind of appointment in the capital… her dressmaker's, that was it. Come on, Theodora, you can remember the dressmaker, what about the plot of the story?

  There had been a House of brewers, on the edge of the Northwest Sector, who'd been having some kind of trouble with deliberately contaminated beer—Jack Lykon's choice of beverage must have reminded me. A pair of reps had requested a House alliance with Cormallon to track down the saboteurs, but there was some reason the alliance couldn't go through—something about offending our longtime allies, the Ducorts (though I didn't see why; the Du-corts handle wine and tah, and consider themselves above honest beer). So what had happened?

  The First at that time had figured a method of weeding out any contaminated tubs, and tracing back any sorcerous damage to the beer to its source. Nonsorcerers could use the method, but only by a quick education in Cormallon techniques and the use of House materials. I couldn't recall the sorcery involved, but I remembered the political answer: Three brewery employees had been adopted into the House of Cormallon and then loaned back to their birth house to supervise the beermaking.

  This was the crux: The adoption gave Cormallon House justice rights over the lives of the brewers. They'd all had spells placed on them that prevented their spilling any House secrets to outsiders. Gag spells, they're called, and they're the kind of thing that can be very dangerous, very complicated; and only done with the person's consent. The brewers accepted it out of self-interest, being well-paid for their cooperation. When the crisis was over, Cormallon released them back to their birth house—with gags intact, and if I know the Cormallons, probably some memory impairment. (The latter was never admitted. Removing memory is easy; what's hard is to be selective.)

  So no alliance, Cormallon pockets its fee, the brewers get their reputation for good beer returned… I never found out what happened to the three shifted employees. Spells that fool around with memory and volition are risky things; if the three ended up committing suicide somewhere down the road, I would not be surprised.

  On the other hand, the Tolla was by definition composed of high risk-taking individuals.

  Given a choice between a lengthy gene search for hypothetical magic abilities and a workable weapons program, Van Gelder would go for the weapons. Pure research was not her aim. And if we could work out a trade, perhaps she would lend me Jack Lykon for a day or two… because research was my aim.

  The next question would be, was Jack Lykon a high risk-taking individual?

  And what in the world was I going to tell Ran?

  Chapter 9

  As it turned out, I had time to think about it, as Kylla and Lysander were in the parlor when I got home. They were both holding drinks, which I thought was a good idea on Ran's part, and since nobody seemed to be throwing anything at anybody, I walked right in.

  Lysander was seated on the red-fringed cushion by the table. He raised his glass an inch when I entered, and nodded. "Theodora." Kylla, who was half-sitting, half-lying on the divan, now sat up straight and patted the space beside her. "Theo, sit by me. Ran's telling us about your day. It sounds wonderfully gruesome."

  I loosened my outerrobe and sat down. Nobody asked me where I'd been, which made things simpler, so I took a sip of Ky's proffered drink—a Soldier's Delight, apparently; Lysander must have stopped somewhere on the way here and bought a flask to go. It was not the custom for old aristocratic families to keep the ingredients for mixed drinks in the house, and it never occurred to Ran that we might stock up. Most of the time I didn't feel the lack, but there were occasional nights when Ran was off putting in an appearance for one of the Cormallon branches and I was stuck in the capital; when the Net seemed supremely uninteresting, and I'd sung all the old Pyrenese songs I could think of in the bathroom, and I found myself wishing for a nudge to get to sleep. No point in opening up the expensive Ducort for that.

  Gods, I hoped Ran wasn't going to get himself killed in his profession any time soon. The mortality rate for the upper-rank males of Ivory is relatively high, and that thought did tend to surface from time to time, presenting itself in all its bleak surfaces. I'd been alone most of my life, but I was rapidly losing the knack for it, if it wasn't gone already. It's probably like languages—you've got to keep in practice to handle it with any confidence.

  "Theo?" inquired Kylla. She was holding the glass. So was I. I let go, and she said, "Something on your mind?"

  "The usual mess. Ran tell you I used up your lip rouge?"

  "That was the pot I gave you? Ugh! Theo, that was Cachine Cosmetics, it cost a fortune. What were you thinking?"

  Good old practical Kylla. For one paranoid second I wondered if we should be sharing all this data with her and Lysander, considering they were, technically, suspects; but I stamped "unworthy" on that thought and put it back in the closet. Of course, we'd never gotten to know Lysander as well as we might…

  Lysander said, "You were about to show us the ring."

  Ran did his handkerchief trick once again and made the silver and cadite lump appear in the center. Lysander whistled. "I never saw anything with a curse on it before. That I knew of."

  Kylla, an old hand from a house of sorcerers, shrugged. Her long gold earrings tinkled gently. "It's not a thing of beauty," she said. "Kade's taste must have run to the obvious… I can't say I'm surprised, having met the sister."

  Lysander said, quickly, "Can you use this to identify the sorcerer?"

  Ran covered the ring again. "Yes and no. I've been examining it all afternoon—it seems to be safe enough as long as you don't put it on your finger—and the curse is still operational. So by the Rule of Connectivity, we ought to be able to stand wherever the sorcerer stood when he ignited the spell, and follow the spoor back to trace him."

  "If only we knew where he was standing," I said.

  "Yes," agreed Ran.

  "I suppose you could request the use of the boat," said Lysander. "Take it out toward Catmeral Bridge, and move randomly around on the decks till—"

  Kylla interrupted. "Does it have to be on the boat?"

  Her husband looked puzzled, but Ran said, "No, I was going to mention that little problem. As long as he knew Kade had the ring on, the sorcerer could have been anywhere in line-of-sight—and the lounge deck had big windows, remember—to set the curse loose. That means it could have been somebody on the roof of a warehouse, or on the garden wall of one of your neighbors' houses, Ky."

  Lysander groaned. "Anybody in the city, that means."

  "Or on Catmeral Bridge," said Kylla.

  We all looked at her. I said, "Why the bridge?"

  She set her drink on the floor. "There was a man there. I noticed him because he was leaning over the rail, staring at us. It annoyed me." True, at the time Kylla had been in no mood to be stared at, or to be anything else, actually. "It was mid-afternoon, and the Catmeral isn't a covered bridge, right? And it was hot and sunny—the place was practically deserted, and the one or two people crossing over were racing their little fannies across and darting back into the shade. But not this man. He had his arms on the rail and was just leaning there, glaring down. I thought, Who does he think he's looking at, anyway? Then I thought, This one is strange."

  Ran said, "Lysander, did you—"

  "No, I didn't see him. It's the first I heard of it. But then, my back was to the bridge most of the time. I was facing Kylla."

  Ran turned to his sister. "You didn't mention this before."

  "Well, if I'd known he was going to drown a Porath, I would have paid more attention! Anyway, then there was that splash down below, and I forgot all about it. Till now."

  Ran glanced at me. We'd been on deck at the same time. I said, "I wasn't facing the bridge either." He looked unhappy. I added, "That security guard was up there with us for a while. The one Kade chewed out about not covering Eliana? But I don't remembe
r if we were near the bridge then, or not."

  Ran brightened. "Even if he wasn't, he could help us physically place who was where on the boat. Security guards are always making visual sweeps. We could call the Poraths and find out what service they used, and make an appointment to see him before we take the boat out again."

  Lysander said, "Could you call them tonight?"

  Poor man, Kylla must really be putting the screws to him at home. He definitely wanted the murder, the wedding, and the Poraths taken care of and far away.

  Ran glanced down for a second at the bunched handkerchief, then slipped it in the inner pocket of his robe and gave Lysander his full attention. "How are things going, by the way, with your own problem? Has Jusik been in touch since the boat ride?"

  Kylla swung her own gaze full on him as well, waiting with that patient, without-mercy born Cormallon expression on her face. Lysander grabbed hold of his glass and downed a long swallow. "He did call," he admitted. "He suggested I might attend the funeral tomorrow. I told him I had to be out of town. He didn't insist."

  "Well," said Ran after a moment, "perhaps he won't insist on the marriage, either."

  "He might be all the more in need of the money, though, now that Kade's gone," I contributed. The look Lysander shot me was not a kind one.

  He said, "I'm sure they all want Eliana to marry money, but there's no reason I have to be the money. I think if I struggle enough, they'll let me escape. After all, it was Kade's pet idea, and he's gone."

  Conveniently. Ran's eyes met my own, and I thought, Tsk, tsk. What unbrotherly suspicion. If Lysander's surname had been Cormallon, Ran would have no doubts about his character; if he'd killed Kade, he'd report that fact to Ran so we could all deal with it more intelligently. Despite past experiences, Ran still believed Cormallons could do no wrong.

  "We'd better get back," said Kylla, standing up. "I promised Shez I'd kiss her goodnight. It's bedtime now, and she'll torture her nurse till I get there." She gave me a peck on the cheek, then whispered, "How are things going? Missed any periods yet?"