As I stated previously, both Family and Residence are mean. They don’t treat her as they should, so we are going to— The Fam stopped abruptly, glared at Draeg, then reiterated, She is My person. You do not get to look at her or touch her or talk to her. Mine. I have observed you trailing Us when We go into the main city to scout.
To scout? Draeg prodded.
The cat lifted his leg and began grooming, now ignoring Draeg. But a weird pattern transferred from the Fam’s mind to Draeg’s—like a bright blue rope snaking through dim alleys to the south city wall.
Putting the broom aside, he let the six stridebeasts out into the corral to enjoy the warm spring morning. The winter had been colder and harder and lasted longer than usual.
Beautiful animals, not nearly as hairy as most stridebeasts he’d ridden when he’d been a guard for merchant caravans. These were the greater species and appeared equal to those that he’d cared for at the Sallows’, who had the best, when Draeg had practiced being a stableman before he’d hired on here.
Stridebeasts were a native Celtan animal somewhat like Earthan llamas but larger. Yeah, the more he studied them, the more he thought the Yews had been doing some selective breeding. These animals’ hair wasn’t as long as those stridebeasts the Sallows had, merely a few centimeters, and each appeared a solid color instead of patchy like most. The necks were long, the ears oval, the legs sturdy and widening to padded feet that appeared tougher than those he’d used before. That would be a boon to every rider on Celta.
Pretty beasts. Though not as pretty as horses.
The animals had been well cared for even before he’d come, and he thought—and those who’d sent him had heard—that the eighteen-year-old D’Yew had tended them herself.
Draeg had yet to meet her. He’d sure like to interact with her on a one-on-one, in-person basis instead of watching her from afar and not just because he liked the looks of her slim figure from the back and the way she moved.
Loridana is MINE! the cat yelled in his mind, and Draeg flinched. Seemed like his thoughts leaked to the tom as much as the cat’s did to him despite mindshields. Dammit. He needed info. And he needed more patience. It had been a while since he’d had to practice patience, and he didn’t much like it.
Look, cat, he began.
You may address Me as Baccat, the tom said, staring past Draeg.
And you can call me Draeg.
The Fam’s tail flicked. I know who you are.
Draeg’s gut tightened; he stared at Baccat. Did the cat really know that Draeg had come to spy on the Yews? That his name wasn’t Draeg Hedgenettle but Draeg Betony-Blackthorn?
Baccat’s whole head dipped and rose as he sniffed long. Your clothes indicate that you usually live with three cats, two foxes, and a young dog.
Sinking slightly into his balance, Draeg met the cat’s gaze. The tom had listed all the Fams in the T’Blackthorn household, those of his cuzes-siblings. Draeg’s mind clicked through all the information the Fam might be able to tell about him from that one sniff. Straif T’Blackthorn, who’d formally adopted all of the Betonys years ago, had one of the premier FamCats in Druida City, Drina. If Baccat even knew of Drina . . . well, Draeg would be paying blackmail to D’Yew’s Fam to keep his secret and stay here at his undercover job.
He dropped his arms, laded his mental voice with admiration. You speak well.
Baccat sat straighter with pride. I speak better than you do. I matured in a Noble Household.
Huh. Is that so? Draeg’s Dad had been a Noble GraceLord; his adoptive father-cuz was of the FirstFamilies, the most important Families of Celta. The ones descended from the colonists who’d bought the starships and paid for the journey from Earth to Celta.
With an inclination of his head, Baccat said, It is quite so. Then his face scrunched a little and Draeg felt a cloudy chill. Glancing at the sky, he saw it blue and cloudless, realized he’d experienced emotions from the cat. Again.
You lost your Family, Draeg murmured. He let his body relax.
My first FamMan was an old scholar and he died, the last of his Family.
Draeg swallowed hard. Celta could be a hard planet for Earthan stock. As a young man, T’Blackthorn had seen his whole Family die around him. His wife was sterile from a disease she’d contracted as a child. Made Families, like his own, were wonderful, but Draeg knew all too well that you couldn’t count on being here tomorrow, or on anyone else you loved being here tomorrow. An inward shudder rippled his nerves.
But you’ve got a new FamWoman, he pointed out.
Cat eyes got lost in a grin. Yes. She is very generous, kind, and beautiful. The eyes opened to threatening slits. And she is MINE!
“So we’ve returned full circle to that topic, Baccat.” Draeg shrugged. “I’ve got a job to do.” He turned his back and went to the corral to look at the six beautiful stridebeasts. Still, even as he worked with them, continued to make friends with the non-sentient animals, he kept an eye on the cat. Draeg hooked a little mental thread onto that beast’s aura to keep track of him, part of Draeg’s Flair. Wherever the cat went, Draeg would be able to follow and find him.
Better wise than surprised.
* * *
We have decided to accede to your request for a horse, FirstFamily GrandLady Loridana Itha Valerian D’Yew,” the Residence, Yew Residence, said in its usual arrogant male voice. As if its words were a portentous announcement. The thick, rich fabrics of the furniture and rugs in the library, even the expensive wallpaper, softened its tone.
Lori kept her spine straight in the chair but answered with more force than usual. “Oh, thank you!” Since the Residence monitored her physical reactions, it would have noted her pulse leap and faster heart rate.
You are disturbed, FamWoman? questioned her Familiar companion, Baccat, in a thought to her. Naturally, he’d felt the spurt of her excitement and dismay. He was the only one she didn’t keep a barrier of control between her mindshields against, didn’t control her every thought and feeling with.
No, Baccat. Surprised. Apparently we are finally getting a horse, she sent to him mentally. Can you check out the stables to see if the Residence is . . . fibbing to me again?
I spent a septhour in the stables this morning and am enjoying the sun in Our garden, Baccat grumbled, but she sensed he rose to his paws from a flattened bed of catmint and stretched, rump up. I will do this for You, MY FamWoman.
Keeping a smile curving her lips, she breathed to regulate her emotions and hopefully her pulse, too.
This has delayed our plans to leave the estate. She kept her mind touch as light as her tone, though deep inside irritation rolled through her in a tight, hot ball.
A huge telepathic sigh from Baccat as he trotted to the stables. I postulate that we must now take the horse when we depart, too?
Yes. She glanced out the tall window at the rolling grassyard of the estate toward the stables, but couldn’t see them. She’d fought a bitter battle three years ago to have the thick drapes on one window in the library opened when she attended the Residence for instruction. One window of six. Even so, the furniture had to be rearranged so sunlight wouldn’t fade the fabric on the plush antiques or exquisite carpets.
Yanking her attention back to the Residence, she reiterated her gratitude. “Thank you so much.”
She sensed the Residence preening.
“The stableman we hired two eightdays ago has proven competent with our stridebeasts and stated he could also handle horses. We checked his bona fides once more and his references agreed, so we purchased the animals from the Sallows.”
“Animals? More than one?” Lori swallowed. Last year, even a couple of months ago, she’d have been pleased. Before she’d made the decision to leave her whole Family, let them trundle on in their rigid traditional ruts that they’d insisted she live within. Not allow her to be D’Yew.
Now she had to fake pleasure. “How wonderful!” she said aloud, then sent to Baccat, Two horses.
She heard h
er Fam sniff. I heard the Residence in your mind.
With a nod to him and to the Residence, who watched her from a crystal embedded in the walls, she stood. Sweeping a glance around the room, she saw that the chamber and sensed that the rest of the large manor house held not the tiniest dirt or grime—her duties today were done. She’d used a lot of Flair, psi power, but the real surge of delight at the thought of her own horses mitigated her weariness.
“May I have permission to visit our new arrivals?” she asked the Residence.
“You may, D’Yew,” the Residence said in plummy tones.
Being addressed as “D’Yew,” a FirstFamily GrandLady’s title, meant less than nothing. Or rather it meant, “You are the daughter of a FirstFamily, the highest of the high; you must believe as we wish you to believe, comport yourself as we have trained you, and live your life in the manner we approve.”
“My thanks again,” she said. She hadn’t encountered the new stableman yet. This last week had been the one designated for spring cleaning, and the Family and house tapped on her Flair to power the spells. Not that the Residence itself, or all the other members of the Family couldn’t handle the cleaning. But as soon as she’d finished her First Passage—a dreamquest to free her psi power—at seven and had enough Flair, they’d begun siphoning it for all the major spells. She’d been told she was giving back to the Family who housed and fed and cared for her needs.
Her physical needs. And no one had ever mentioned love. She wasn’t quite sure how that might feel, at least from people; she’d learned to love and receive love easily enough from the stridebeasts.
As for love between two people, which was shown in the limited vizes and books she was allowed, she thought it was just an aspect of sex and seemed to make people act stupid.
Baccat snorted in her mind distantly.
What? she asked.
These HORSES. Laughter traveled down their link.
She suppressed a sigh. Her high hopes at having something special crashed again.
The Residence went on. “The horses arrived early this afternoon. You may go see them.” Its tone was indulgent. “Be sure to return in time to bathe before dressing for dinner.”
“Of course. I’ll take my calendar sphere.” She never left the house without it. When she was a child they’d attached it to her clothes. Now she used it to schedule her free and daydreaming time and to arrive precisely at the correct moment to whatever event the Family wanted and be the person the Family expected.
She donned the proper manner and inclined her head, then proceeded across the room with back and shoulders straight, chin high. “Thank you, Residence, and please disseminate my gratitude to all the Family members who approved my request.”
“Done, GrandLady D’Yew.”
She hesitated; maybe she should try one last time to claim her proper place in the household.
Clearing her throat, she winced at showing weakness, then pushed on. “At Samhain in the autumn, New Year’s, we spoke of having a ritual celebration of my adulthood, since I am eighteen and finished my Second Passage, which signified that I’m an adult. Spring Equinox is coming in three weeks and—”
“We will discuss this later, D’Yew, with the whole Family and when our duties are not pressing,” the Residence said. It always felt able to interrupt her. Again, hurt and irritation surged, and again she pushed them down.
The Residence opened the door and she left.
The maître de maison, Cuspid Yew, a cuz of her mother’s, stood outside in the hallway, posture stiff enough that Lori straightened her back even more. He and the housekeeper, Folia, were the real people in charge of the house, and the powers in the Family since Lori’s mother died when she was five. Lori hadn’t interacted with her mother much and didn’t remember her . . . except she’d always scowled and looked scary.
Lori nodded to him. “As you may have heard, I intend to bring up the topic of a celebration for reaching my majority again this evening. I believe at drinks before dinner would be appropriate.”
His face remained in deep frown lines. “Your cuzes Zus and Vi will not be at dinner tonight, but at friends’, and because they are the members of the Family closest in range to you, we would like the twins to act as Priest and Priestess in such a ritual. Their input is vital.”
She’d heard that before and couldn’t think of anyone less spiritual than her twin cuzes, the maître de maison’s children. “Ah, well, perhaps it’s time I met their friends.”
The man’s jaw clenched. He started a cutting gesture, then dropped his hands. “We are not ready to present you to Druida City society, yet,” Cuspid intoned.
So it always went, had gone since she’d wanted to attend grovestudy with other children in Druida City when she was ten. As for now, Cuspid ruled the household and he didn’t want to give up that power to her.
“I hear you,” she said, ascending the massive marble staircase in smooth steps to her rooms—not the MasterSuite or MistrysSuite. She must dress in clothes good for the stables. The acquisition of the horses she’d been campaigning for throughout the last two years must be a sop to keep her happy. So the Family and Residence had noticed her restlessness—and hopefully hadn’t realized how determined she was to leave.
Silence fell, and only her steady footsteps and the ticking of the antique clock broke the quiet. She kept her footsteps light as she finished ascending the stairs.
Nothing changed, and nothing she could do would change anything. She was done.
Two
FamWoman? Baccat questioned. You are dejected? She sensed he hissed. THEY have scraped your feelings again!
Since no one was in the corridor, Lori picked up her pace and managed a shrug at her Fam’s words. I’ll get over it.
We will decamp SOON.
Yes.
Sometimes fighting is not the answer and, as we have experienced here with your Family, can make matters worse. Sometimes walking away from a situation is the best option.
Yes.
A few minutes later she drew in deep breaths of still-cold fresh spring air. Outside at last! No warm and heavy odor laden with the faint scent of incense that her Family preferred.
I am on my way, she told Baccat telepathically.
I support My FamWoman, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Her walk continued as a stately tread until she knew she couldn’t be seen from any window or tower of the Residence or any scrystone in the walls that the Residence monitored . . . then she ran¸ free of restrictions and constrictions. And, yes, she ran through the edge of the grove, a zigzagging path that she’d learned through trial and error was private.
As she drew close to the stables, indecision tore at her. With the animals, the stridebeasts she’d been raising and training according to ancient methods, she was completely herself, Lori Valerian Yew. No pretense, no masks, all love.
This new stableman . . . who and what kind of person; might she want to be with him? The Family approved of him . . . but as far as she knew, he wasn’t allowed in the Residence. So the real question was whether he’d take tales to the Family and Residence if she acted like the woman she was, the one she wanted to become, instead of the arrogant GrandLady persona the Family preferred her to be . . . like her mother had been, and her mother’s father, MotherSire, and probably all the previous generations back to the original Earthan colonists who’d funded the starships and journey. That was what “FirstFamily” meant. Her ancestors had had enough psi, psychic power, and enough gilt, old-time money, to buy their way onto a starship and berths in the cryonics tubes.
What do you think of the new stableman? she asked Baccat, though she wasn’t entirely sure of his judgement. The cat had shown up at the stables at the beginning of winter, and though they were in concert about their ideas of her various Family members, Baccat had told outrageous stories of other Fams and people he’d known.
A hesitation before a rush of emotion came her way from the cat slyness, laughter, the
hint of a secret. But she’d become accustomed to beings having secrets, and, after all, she had her own.
He is capable and efficient and speaks well. Another snort. The horses like him.
She slowed, pondering. Perhaps the stableman shouldn’t be treated like her Family, with cool distance. She knew little about horses, and this new man did. If she wanted to learn from him, or would be working with him, she should be herself . . . the person she liked being, not the D’Yew the Family had molded.
Soon she came within sight of one side of the stables, and she smiled. Of all the estate, this place reflected her the most.
Like everything else on the estate, the stables were built on a grand scale, and Lori had used that reason to prod the Family into renovating one block of them, and keep the others from falling down. Lady and Lord knew, the Family had plenty of gilt.
The U-shaped stables loomed between the trees. Unlike the flat gray stone of the D’Yew Residence manor house, warm red brick composed the buildings. Her heart leapt a little seeing the corral with her six stridebeasts.
There she’d find love. There she’d give love to the stridebeasts. Though they weren’t sentient animals like some other hybrid or Earthan animals, through her breeding program they’d become more intelligent. She’d have liked to compare her statistics and lines with others but was allowed no contact with the outer world—with “lesser” people, or other FirstFamily Nobles “who don’t have our standards.”
Lori believed only her Family followed some sort of hard-edged rules that were far too strict for human beings. She found them stifling.
She did want to be loved, and the stridebeasts gave her that. She hoped the horses would, too.
Rounding the last copse and seeing the full stable block revealed, she skidded to a halt. In the gravel courtyard, a man looked to be practicing some sort of fighting pattern. She just stared.
He didn’t look like her relatives. At all.
She thought he stood as tall as she, so medium height for a man, but his muscles were certainly bigger. She didn’t think she’d seen a man with developed muscle that went from his shoulders to his neck. He had a strong back, then.
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