by Sharon
Mr. pel’Kana bowed.
“Sir,” he murmured. “Will you wish to sit for prime meal, or—”
“I will wait, I think, until Pilot Caylon has returned,” he said smoothly, as if he had no doubt that she would do so, and soon.
“Of course, sir,” Mr. pel’Kana said, and went away.
Alas, it appeared that Daav had been unreasonably optimistic in his assessment. Hours passed and Aelliana did not return, nor did she send any message. In order that the servants not be subjected to his increasingly disordered state, he retired to his apartment, where he paced, and searched the house base for any message she might have left for him that may have gotten misfiled. When he tired of that, he humiliated himself by checking her closet, and so found that her jacket was gone, which comforted him not one bit.
Sitting down at his worktable, he tried to calm himself with carving, but his thoughts wandered so that he was a danger to his own fingers, and soon set the knife aside.
He went out onto the balcony where only this morning they had shared breakfast and she had outlined her plans. A pleasant day it had seemed she intended, before the arrival of Mizel’s letter.
Mizel’s damned letter, of which he had found no trace, though he had found her port comm and the empty envelope on the desk, with the cards she had written out that morning.
Mizel had threatened her; he was more certain of that than he was of his next breath. The shape of the threat scarcely mattered; it had been enough to send her flying out of their house without a word to any who might try to prevent her, without even a message for him in the house base, explaining—explaining …
What?
That she was taking her ship and fleeing, refusing both the dominion of Mizel and Liad? Or that she was returning to her clan, hostage to his honor?
He hoped for the former, if, indeed, she had left him. If it were the latter …
… he could not abide it, if she had returned to her clan in order to protect him, and he became yet another stick for her delm to beat her with.
The racket of the night birds mocked him. He went back inside and resumed pacing.
To leave, without so much as a word … He thought to bring up the departure log from the port feed, but froze with his fingers on the keys, certain that his heart would break, if he found The Luck gone; and nothing proven, if she were still at dock.
He thought then that he would call Mizel, but refrained from that mad start, as well. In his current state of mind, he would only worsen a desperate situation. Any calls should rightly be made by dea’Gauss, to whom Mizel at least must speak on the subject of an open complaint. Daav yos’Phelium had no right to speak to anyone enclosed by Mizel’s honor, and an attempt to do so could be shown as harassment.
It was past midnight when, nerves exhausted, he at last sat down in the reading chair. With nothing more useful than a cat to occupy him, he tried to think what he would do, if Aelliana were well and truly gone from him.
She was his lifemate. If she had lifted, intending to make her own life, still he might ease her way. If she would not take his money, she might yet accept work sent to her through Korval channels. He would need to be careful of her pride, but he need not despair of being some use to her.
If she had returned to Mizel, the opportunity to honor her fitly was … much more difficult. He supposed he might commission Mizel assassinated, which would be the best service he might render her …
Across the room, the door to their apartment opened.
*
“Daav?”
Aelliana stopped, staring at him, huddled in the chair with Lady Dignity, his face etched with—
“Van’chela, are you weeping?”
She moved forward, and he snapped to his feet, dropping the cat unceremoniously to the floor.
“Aelliana … ” His voice was hoarse. “Aelliana, where have you been?”
“At the port,” she said, sweeping toward him. Such grief; it must—no, surely there was no ill news from Anne?
“What’s amiss?” she demanded and took hold of his arm.
Agony scorched her; fear froze her. She gasped and snatched her hand away, staring up into his face.
“dea’Gauss,” he said, and for once his voice was neither calm nor steady. “dea’Gauss had received a letter from Mizel, demanding your joyous return to clan and kin, else Daav yos’Phelium would be revealed before Council as a kin-stealer. I came home, and there had been another letter from Mizel, which precipitated your headlong flight from our house … “
“You thought I’d left you,” she said, disbelieving. “Daav … “
Deliberately, she stepped forward, slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her body against his, trying to warm him, trying to force him to feel her love for him. She put her forehead against his shoulder, shivering with his fear.
“Van’chela, I would never go away from you without at least leaving a message!”
His hands came lightly ‘round her waist. He sighed and some of the frightful tension left his body.
“And yet,” he said softly, “you did just that.”
Yes, she thought guiltily, she had done just that. So focused upon her own necessities that she had not thought of his, or what he might think—a letter from Mizel arrives, which surely Mr. pel’Kana would have told him, and Aelliana flies. Absent a message, even setting aside his own dire letter, what else was he to think, having heard her say time and again that she would not return to Mizel?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered the Terran phrase against his shoulder. She raised her hand to his cheek. “Daav, please forgive me; I never meant to cause you a moment’s care. I swear to you now that I will never leave you; I love you too well.”
One of his hands left her waist. He stroked her hair back from her face.
“It is forgiven; it is forgotten,” he whispered. “Aelliana … ” He cleared his throat. “What were you about at the port?”
“A tale hangs there,” she said, “which might be better heard sitting down.”
He released her immediately. She stepped back, keeping a grip on his hand and pulled him back onto the reading chair.
“Sit,” she murmured, and when he had done so, she sat across his lap, leaning companionably against him. He was so cold; she was desperate to warm him.
“Mizel’s letter to me was something like your own,” she murmured. “I had been too long absent from duty and therefore commanded to return to my natural place. It was also noted that I held free title to a ship, and to a business, both of which I would be required to relinquish to the clan. I could thereafter expect to receive my proportionate share of any profit realized from either.”
She felt a snarl of anger from Daav, which was better at least than the cold.
“Yes,” she said, comfortably settling her head against his shoulder. “It was very stupid, for of course I had to act in my ship’s best defense, whereupon I went to the port, van’chela, in order to see Jon dea’Cort.”
“One wonders—why did your mind turn to Jon?”
“You’ll recall that he holds a note for the repair and installation of the nav-comp units.”
“Ah, yes, so he does. Did you pay him, then?”
“Pay him?” She raised her head to look into face. “Van’chela, I fear you have become overtired. I cannot afford to redeem that note. No, I asked Jon to put a lien against The Luck.”
Delight shot through them. Daav threw back his head and laughed.
“Yes, of course you did!” he gasped, when he was able to speak at all. “And Jon was pleased to comply, I assume?”
“Not precisely at first,” she confessed. “But once I had made him familiar with the case, he was eager to assist in any way that he could. We went to his woman of business—and it was there that time began to slide away from me, van’chela, for the matter was not as simple to effect as it was to envision. Additionally, there were some points upon which Jon stood adamant, and still other complications introduce
d by his qe’andra. Did you know that a ship must be inspected and certified before a third-party lien can be set against it?”
“Actually, I did, but only because Mr. dea’Gauss does insist upon explaining these matters to me as we go along.”
Aelliana laughed softly. “Well, I wish I had known! However, it was all eventually done, signed, and filed. After, we fetched Trilla and Mistress Apel and all went to find something to eat, which I see now that I should not have done—”
“No.” He raised a hand and put his fingers lightly over her lips. “A call would have sufficed. Had I only known that you were with Jon and not lifted for the Out … “
“Without my copilot?”
“The ship must come first, for the pilot.”
“So it must,” Aelliana agreed, and added the phrase she had lately learnt from Anne. “But there is not only one way to skin a cat.”
Daav laughed. “So I learn. Your copilot, I am sad to report, is a lackwit.”
“No, that I cannot allow. My copilot had other matters to concern him. How does Mr. dea’Gauss suggest we respond to this absurd charge of kin-stealing?”
“Mr. dea’Gauss is inclined to believe that Mizel can carry the day, does it come to that. He advises that I propose contract to you, Aelliana, which buys us more time together, all by Code and custom.”
“Contract?” she repeated, around a sudden gone feeling in her stomach. “But—that merely puts off the inevitable! When the contract is fulfilled, I will be required to return to Mizel.” She shook her head.
“He cannot have thought the matter through. The better solution is for us to cry lifemates, pay Mizel its price, and sign the lines.”
A rush of emotion so powerful she could scarcely hold onto her own soul swept ‘round her in joyous chaos.
“You had, I thought,” Daav murmured, “no wish to be Korval.”
“Nor do I,” she answered warmly, “and I shall doubtless make many bitter errors. However, it appears that I must have Korval, if I am to attain Daav, and so I accept the handicap, if you can accept my ignorance.”
“You are not ignorant,” he told her. He touched her cheek with fingers that trembled. “I say to you, Aelliana Caylon, that your solving this day—rather, your solving of yesterday!—is masterful. Only consider Korval your ship and you shall do very well for all of us!”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Truly, Daav, it was all I could think to do!”
“Your instincts,” he said solemnly, “are good.”
He tipped his head, and she felt a returning flutter of fear, paired uneasily with doubt.
“Tell me true, Aelliana, for I would not see you trapped: Do you think that you may bear it?”
“Bear it?” she repeated. “Since the first time we flew together, I had wanted nothing but to sit board with you, always. If Korval is the ship we have to fly, then—best together than apart.”
She felt his pride in her, and a certain feeling of awe, which, she thought hotly, would never do.
She reached up to take hold of the long tail of his hair, pulling his face down to hers.
“Kiss me,” she commanded.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Balance must be maintained in all things. Debts must be paid promptly and in full.
—From the Liaden Code of Proper Conduct
“Good morning, Mr. dea’Gauss. I hope I find you well?”
There were in Daav’s office, downstairs, he in the chair and she standing behind, both within range of the screen.
Mr. dea’Gauss inclined his sleek head. “Good morning, your lordship; my lady. I am perfectly well, I thank you.”
“Excellent,” Daav murmured. “Please forgive me for accosting you in this uncivilized manner. My only excuse is that we are summoned in a hour to Lady yo’Lanna’s side, and I have something rather urgent for you to undertake on Korval’s behalf.”
“Of course, your lordship. I stand ready to assist, as ever.”
“I will be brief. Pilot Caylon has found a simple solution to our dilemma of yesterday, sir. She suggests that she and I sign as lifemates before the world, and thus place Mizel beyond distress.”
Mr. dea’Gauss blinked, and raised his eyes to Aelliana’s.
“Yes,” she told him, with a smile. “It must be so, Mr. dea’Gauss. If you please.”
“Few things which I have undertaken in the service of Korval have pleased me so much, my lady. I will, of course, make this my first priority.” He gave a seated bow. When he had straightened again, he looked to Daav.
“Korval will offer the life-price of a first class pilot, and a scholar expert?”
Aelliana stirred, meaning to say that it was too much; she had been a scholar expert during her whole adult life. Had matters fallen otherwise, she supposed she would have remained a scholar expert until Mizel’s Ring passed and the new delm had made her a whore.
Daav inclined his head. “Korval seeks to place value appropriately. We have no reason to stint Mizel and every reason to be generous.”
“Very good,” Mr. dea’Gauss murmured. “This business ought to take no more than a few hours. It is perfectly possible that I will have the concluded contract in hand this afternoon.”
“We will come to you,” Daav said, “when Lady yo’Lanna releases us. Pilot Caylon had been wanting to visit the shops in any case.”
Oh, had I? Aelliana frowned down at the top of his head, which was as helpful as one might expect. When she looked back to the screen it seemed to her that Mr. dea’Gauss was smiling.
“Very good, your lordship,” he said. “I will set to work immediately. Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Mr. dea’Gauss,” she said.
The screen went dark.
“Why do I want to visit the shops in Solcintra?” Aelliana asked.
Daav spun ‘round in his chair and smiled up at her.
“Why, to purchase a dress worthy of Lady Kareen’s formal gather, of course! I advise that you place yourself entirely into Eyla dea’Lorn’s hands.”
Aelliana sighed lightly.
“Who is Eyla dea’Lorn and how shall I find her?”
“She is an artist, and I will guide you to her, directly we have concluded our business with Mr. dea’Gauss.” He tipped his head, his smile broadening into a grin.
“Where will you wish to go for our honey-trip, Aelliana? The mountains or the sea?”
“Do you know?” she said reflectively. “I think I had considered the trip to Avontai our honey-trip. Though I should,” she admitted, “like to see an ocean.”
Daav’s grin twisted a bit. “Have you never been to the sea?”
“No, never,” she said, and touched his cheek, reading ebullience, relief, delight … “I was waiting for you to take me there, you see.”
“Then I shall,” he answered more seriously than perhaps the moment warranted, and came to his feet.
“Come, let us collect your guest-gift and be on our way! It will never do to be late!”
She eyed him.
“Are we in danger of being late?” she asked.
“Not if I drive like a pilot,” he answered, looking down at her quizzically.
“Drive like a Scout,” Aelliana whispered, and stretched up on her toes to kiss him.
*
“Aelliana Caylon Clan Mizel.” She straightened and looked boldly into Lady yo’Lanna’s face, offering the bouquet of gloan-roses and gladioli they had gathered from Jelaza Kazone’s gardens.
“Please accept a small token, ma’am, to commemorate our first meeting.”
“I thank you.” Lady yo’Lanna received the bouquet into her hands, and gazed at it for a long moment.
“Gladioli were my friend Chi’s favorite flower,” she murmured. “I have always been partial to gloan-roses. It is well-chosen.”
“I had good advice,” Aelliana said, and Lady yo’Lanna smiled.
“Of course you did,” she said, and glanced aside with a smile that
could only be said to be sardonic.
“Daav, it is good to see you among my guests once more. I think you know everyone who has come. Please do me the favor of reacquainting yourself, while I make Scholar Caylon known to all.”
He bowed, of course; there was nothing else he might decently do.
“Certainly, ma’am. Is there anyone in particular you would like to have drowned?”
She appeared to give the question serious consideration, head tipped to one side, and eyes dwelling on the flowers she held. “No, I thank you. I believe that today I am in charity with all the world.”
He bowed again. Lady yo’Lanna slipped her hand through Aelliana’s arm. She cast him a single look over her shoulder from wide green eyes as she was led away, and he smiled as if he were perfectly comfortable with the arrangements.
He was not, to say true, completely comfortable with the arrangements, but that had more to do with his desire to be private with his lady, rather than sharing her among a dozen.
“How long,” asked a voice at his shoulder, “is that going to continue, young Korval?”
Daav turned to confront Delm Guayar, Clonak’s father, coincidentally Lady yo’Lanna’s brother.
“Good morning, sir. As long as your lady sister desires, I should think, but surely not upwards of a day or two.”
“Pfft!” Guayar frowned sternly. “The last time we met, I did you a good turn, sir. Do you intend to repay me by coming lack-witted and tedious?”
“Of course not! I hope to repay you properly in kind. Is there a bit of news I might drop delicately into one certain ear alone for you?”
Guayar considered him.
“I know what ails you,” he said at last. “You haven’t any wine.” He slipped his arm companionably through Daav’s and turned him toward the center of the garden. “Come, let us rectify that immediately. While we are on our way to the wine table, you may tell me how long you intend to allow the enchanting pilot to style herself ‘Mizel.’ “
“As it happens,” Daav said slowly, “Mr. dea’Gauss is currently in negotiation. We hope for a speedy, and joyous, resolution.”
Guayar inclined his head.
