He jerked his head toward the stridebeasts. “Your cuzes hold your animals hostage to manipulate your behavior and keep you under their thumb. Because you love your stridebeasts and they don’t give a damn about the animals, or much of anything other than themselves, right?”
Lori shrugged. A huge ball of feeling had stuck in her throat, stung her eyes. Her imagination worked at what could happen to her beloved animals, her Fam, even to Draeg if she refused to fall into line.
And . . . what would it be like to share her fears with Draeg? To unload everything on him? Wonderful. But she still couldn’t do it because she didn’t trust him enough, couldn’t find that in her for him, yet. Despite the fact that she lusted after him, even respected him.
When she didn’t answer, because she couldn’t without sobbing, and she wouldn’t be so weak before him—she wanted to be equals with him—he nodded and said, “I understand how Family loyalty is.”
She had little loyalty to her Family, especially for Vi and Zus, and it diminished every day, but her voice remained clogged.
“They, uh, wear fancy clothes,” he said. “Are their duties tending the Residence?” His forehead furrowed. “I know I met the maître de maison.” He grunted. “Is young Zus the butler, maybe, and Vi the cook?”
That had Lori swallowing a near hysterical laugh, glancing at her own worn clothes again. “No. They supervise the farm.”
“Huh,” Draeg said. “I’ve known some farmers in my time—” He stopped, held out one of his hands, and looked at it.
Lori followed his gaze. His big, strong hands, and her own smaller ones, appeared like they did manual labor. The twins’ hands didn’t.
Baccat sauntered away from the man, head up, ears slightly flat, tail waving. The real people who run the farm don’t like to have Zus and Vi around. They are malicious.
“Got that,” Draeg said. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Lori translocated the brush and curry comb that she’d been holding before Draeg had kissed her and hurried to the far corner where the north and eastern blocks met, went through the open door to the tack room, cleaned the implements, and put them away.
When she came out, she had better control and walked up to where he leaned on the corral, looking at the stridebeasts who competed for his pets. She watched his hands, shivered at the thought of them stroking her. Oh, yes, she truly wanted that.
“So, you think we should, uh, take some measures to protect these friends?” he asked.
She didn’t have the experience or knowledge to encase even one in personal armor, let alone two or all six. Nor did she wish to demonstrate her new primary Flair to Draeg.
“I have a few options.” Large changes of plans as well as minor shading into minute modifications of each scheme. She’d been thinking of escape all winter long.
Drawing in a breath, she let it out, walling up her fear as she petted the stridebeasts chivvying for her touch. “I have a pen and lean-to, large enough for two stridebeasts, on the southern edge of the property, between a grove and the river. There’s a shed there, too. You could take Semper and Cana there . . . this evening. They are the two who will accept separation from the rest of the herd the best.”
“You think that’s necessary?” he asked.
Lori hesitated. “I don’t know. I think it would be wise to . . .”
“Be proactive,” Draeg finished for her.
She liked that word, rolled it in her mind and silently in her mouth before letting her lips form it. “Proactive.” She nodded.
“I’ll take Semper and Cana there this evening after their last feeding, then.” His shoulders straightened. “I’ll bunk in the shed attached to the lean-to.” He sounded as if he’d explored the estate enough that he knew of the place. Eyeing the stables, he continued, “There’s a general danger alarm spell here that can be heard throughout the estate and in the Residence, if I need to tele—hurry back here.”
“Yes,” she said.
A fleeting smile crossed his face. “Better men than me have lived in garden sheds.”
She stared at him.
“You really don’t know much of your history, do you? T’Ash lived in a garden shed for a while.”
“Oh.” With a roll of her shoulder and another nod, this one as equal to equal, she said, “I’ll see you later.” She hesitated, puffed a small sigh. “Probably tomorrow.” Then she teleported to outside one of the back doors of the Residence.
She scraped the soles of her boots, took them off before she went inside, her mind still buzzing, her nervous system jittery with renewed fear. She walked a very narrow cliff edge that crumbled under her feet. The twins would not expect her to simply go along with their demands without a protest. Everyone knew her animals meant too much to her for her to do that. So she had to make some sort of objection, yet not irritate the twins enough that her animals would disappear or she’d arrive at the stables to find two dead.
The disappearing had happened before, more than once, and the Residence had assured her that her stridebeasts had been sold by Cuspid and Folia. She’d been inclined to believe the reports those two had given the Residence, since Lori had seen the income—quite a bit of income—from the sale of the beasts to GreatLord T’Ivy.
At one time she had thought to discuss those sales with T’Ivy, when she’d been confirmed as D’Yew, but that would not happen now.
As she’d told Draeg, she had options. Sometime soon she’d have to try to coat herself and Baccat in personal armor, a good experiment. Perhaps test very thin, strong shields that were hopefully near invisible to more senses than sight.
“Loridana Itha, what disturbs you?” The Residence sounded disapproving.
Thirteen
She cleared her throat. “Please provide me with the document that Cuspid and Folia wished for me to sign this morning.”
Silence. And she’d learned to sense the shades of the Residence’s silence, too—now surprise lived in the atmosphere, curiosity, and more censure before he responded. “Which document is that?”
“I believe it was an allocation of funds to allies.”
The twins appeared before her in the mudroom, both shouting her name. “Lori!”
Lori hunched instinctively, and then, thinking the snottier Yews would scold her for posture, she straightened and donned a confused manner. “I don’t understand. I need the document to review, as you came to the stables to request.” She cleared her throat. “I know we’ve gone through the financials this month, Residence, but the twins want—”
“Never mind,” Zus snarled.
She hadn’t anticipated such capitulation. She’d misjudged and now felt herself falling off that cliff edge she walked with regard to her cuzes.
Lori rushed into speech. “Oh, Residence, Zus and Vi stated that the acquisition of the horses means I can’t have all my stridebeasts. I’m sorry that is so, since I thought the horses were a gift from you all.” To keep her content with the status quo of not being acknowledged as GrandLady D’Yew either here at the estate or to Druidan society. She snuffled as if her feelings were hurt, let tears come. Inside the Residence, summoning tears was easy. “I mistook your—”
Zus teleported away with another snarl, Vi with a hiss. Lori would have to be very, very careful and prepare for the worst since she’d thwarted their plans.
The Residence intoned, “As I recall, the east stable block, which I gave you permission to restore several years ago, contains eight original stalls, is that not true?”
After swallowing, Lori nodded, the Residence had a scrystone in the wall it could observe her with, though she didn’t know how that worked. “Yes. The east stable block contains a tack room at the corner with the northern main stables, then eight stalls, a small office, and, of course, apartments above to house staff,” she recited in equally formal tones.
The Residence continued, “It is as we detailed previously in our conversations?”
“Yes.”
“Since we have eight s
talls and each of your animals can have inside shelter—though I do not think stridebeasts need such pampering and a lean-to, at the most, should be acceptable for them—I believe we can allow you eight animals.”
“Oh!” She let her relieved sigh puff audibly from her chest. “Thank you so much! It’s lovely that you or Cuspid or Folia or the twins won’t be selling the beasts to T’Ivy.”
“That process had not been discussed or begun.”
“I must have misunderstood the twins.” She coughed, then lifted her voice and magnified the spell of it so it would resound throughout the Residence and the twins would hear her and the Residence. “I must have misunderstood the twins all around, about their request for more gilt for our allies, and divesting ourselves of two expensive stridebeasts and—”
“No doubt,” the Residence interrupted her. “And since we have not spoken of our allies lately, perhaps we should review that. I will give you a quarter septhour to cleanse, then come to the ResidenceDen.”
“Yes, Residence.” Obviously her training with the horses had ended for the day. And her groping with Draeg.
Though she remained unsettled. As she moved through the house to her rooms, she spurted a mental comment to Baccat. I do not think we should leave the estate tonight.
But you PROMISED, he whined. Then fell back into his scholarly lilt. This expedition tonight is extremely important to me, Loridana.
She sighed as she hurried into the waterfall room. I will reconsider.
Excellent! I also promise, on My part, to trace the route I believe will be the most efficient and timely for Our escape, even if you cannot do that. I will do so tonight or tomorrow.
I really need that weather information, too, she stated.
I will make that a priority. She sensed him rising from his bench, stretching. Neither the Sallow ferals nor the PublicLibrary Cats had acceptable information. He hummed to himself and she felt it, furry in her mind. I have thought of a brilliant notion.
Just a small exchange with her Fam had Lori relaxing and smiling, recovering her optimism. Yes? she asked telepathically.
I will go to the Mercenary Guild and speak with the Cats there. They do not know Me, nor that I am your Fam—
That’s good, Lori said.
But They might overhear comments about weather predictions for the next week or two.
Lori gritted her teeth. We may have to leave within the next few days. I cannot allow my Family to harm my animals.
Of course not. Baccat coughed up a hairball and Lori grimaced, wishing she hadn’t been so closely tied to him. I may need a token of good intentions for the Mercenary Guild Cats.
With a sigh, Lori translocated a large batch of dried jerky she’d stored in the stillroom to Baccat’s location in the stable courtyard. Then heard hissy feline outrage. That evil bird, he swooped down and stole one of My pieces of jerky! MINE! That greedy raven Corax, that . . . More sputtering and hissing and finally, You had better speak with Me instead of laughing at Me, Draeg HEDGENETTLE. I require recompense!
D’Yew? the Residence prompted silkily. She couldn’t spare any more attention to her Fam and his problems, and answered the Residence quickly. “Yes, yes. My humblest apologies for keeping you waiting.” She teleported into her waterfall room and scrubbed fast and thoroughly, thinking hard.
One option was to leave, within this very week. An itchiness under her skin, a clenching of her stomach, or maybe the continual rising of the hair on the nape of her neck prodded her to escape. As fast as she could. Weather or no weather. Perfect route selected or not.
Just. Go.
That felt right.
Except she’d be leaving Draeg Hedgenettle and all the wonderful sensations he roused in her. Who knew when she’d have time to take a lover again?
So she should have sex with him before she left.
Oh, yes, yes, yes. That felt right.
Modify another plan . . . but this time her smile turned into a grin.
* * *
Ten minutes later she and the Residence looked at the extremely short list of formal alliances. The air pressure in the room changed in what sounded close to a human sigh. “When your MotherSire lived, we Yews had great power and influence.”
Lori kept her mind from drifting off toward Draeg and what he’d made her feel. The Residence would definitely notice her squirming or elevated pulse, and that would clue it in that she didn’t pay attention.
“The Ivys and the Willows are the only FirstFamilies we are allied with, since when we signed those contracts, the term was for three generations.”
“My generation,” she said.
“Correct,” the Residence stated. He paused and the silence became slightly awkward. Was he expecting her to press, once more, to be recognized as D’Yew?
In that moment she realized she’d truly given up on her former life, was now in stasis before she made a new life. Something that hadn’t been true even yesterday.
The horses had come into her life. She’d met Draeg. She’d come into her primary Flair. All those events had widened her perspective, her horizon. She would never be happy here.
Glancing down at the papyrus listing the contractual allies, she said, “Some of the rest of these Nobles on the list seem to be of ancient lineage, ah, important, and, perhaps, well connected.”
“It’s not enough.” A click of a window shutting tighter. “But we will remedy that in the future.”
Lori figured his “future” was her “far future,” like when she was twenty or twenty-five or some such. Far later than she intended to wait.
She inclined her head. “As you wish.”
“Yes.” Another long pause. “You are dismissed.”
“That is all?” she asked. “Our whole discussion about our allies?”
“For the moment,” the Residence said, more sadly than repressively. Almost she felt a twinge of pity for the sentient house. But he—it—and her Family had brought all this on themselves with their isolation. They were not considered part of the human herd of the FirstFamily Nobles.
Almost, she wanted to announce to the Residence to let one of the twins have her title. But that would be too revealing—and revolutionary to the poor thing.
“I believe I will work in the stillroom.”
“You do not return to the stables?”
“Not right now.” She yet walked the narrow ledge, and here in the Residence, she could sense her cuzes’ energy. Besides, she had need of a new potion she must craft. Rising, she turned to a large mirror and gave a formal curtsey to the Residence. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Then she let a small rush of words come. “And thank you for the horses, once more, and for allowing me eight animals. I’m grateful.”
“You are welcome,” the Residence said absently, as if it had moved on to thinking—or brooding—about other issues.
She slipped into the stillroom and let her hands reach for ingredients in cupboards and on shelves, began mixing herbs, adding liquids. Not quite acknowledging what she did . . . until the smell wafted to her nostrils and her nose twitched and she swallowed and had to brace her hands against the counter. She was brewing an anticonception potion she’d take every day.
Because she was going to take Draeg Hedgenettle as a lover. Her first lover. And, yes, she panted a little at the scariness of that, and the anticipation, and the excitement. Leaning harder against the counter, letting the square edges poke into her—and what rational person would make a counter with square edges, anyway—she let her mind whirl with the huge change coming in her life.
Even more important than leaving the estate. That had been planned in as much detail as she could. Everything about that—except for when nights stopped freezing—was under her control. But she believed that engaging in sex with a man like Draeg Hedgenettle would strip the control she had over her emotions. Gulping, she nodded acceptance that she’d willingly share control with him, give up some of her precious need to regulate herself and her emotions to him.
“Your heart is racing more than is generally acceptable, Loridana Itha,” said the Residence, causing her to flinch.
Pushing away from the counter to stand solidly on her feet, she said, “I’m making potions for the horses! So exciting!” Her voice sounded high to her ears, and her words slightly childish. But since that was how the Residence thought of her, maybe it would believe her. Clearing her throat, she tried a steadier tone. “You know, the horses did not come to us in excellent health.”
“What! No, I did not know that! Someone dared to cheat us? The Sallows?”
Uh-oh. She didn’t want the Residence corresponding with the Sallows, or Cuspid or Folia or the twins contacting that Family, either. “I think the horses had run wild a bit before they were found at an estate where the last of the Family had died.”
A harsh rattle of the window as if from a winter blizzard, but truly from the Residence itself. “Another Family has died out? Which? Was the house a Residence?”
“The Alexanderses, the last of which was a GraceLady,” Lori replied. “I don’t know whether D’Alexanders had a Residence.” She gave a tiny cough. “But didn’t you teach me that the, uh, councils of Celta would care for a Residence, put another Family in place so the house would not be harmed?”
The air in the room sighed from a draft that shouldn’t be there, with the potential to hurt delicate herbs.
“You know little of what you speak,” the Residence snapped.
Irritation rose in Lori and she quashed it, as always, stopped her teeth from grinding. Patience. She’d be gone within three weeks. Instead, she said mildly. “I only know what you have told me.”
“I do not think the Alexanders’ house had become a Residence. After all, their GraceHouse was only established less than a century ago.”
“I’m sure another Family will be . . . ah . . . will live on the estate and cherish it,” Lori said.
Indifferently, Yew Residence said, “It does not matter. No one outside of us matters. Remember that, Loridana Itha.”
“Yes, Residence.” She stirred the potion but strained to sense the Residence’s attention and that of others in her Family who wouldn’t mind interrupting her. The twins’ energy seemed active and focused, and she could only hope it wasn’t on how to punish her.
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