“Merely an observation,” Tal added.
“Not an accusation?” There was a hint of humor in the question.
“No. Now tell me how you avoided being marked.”
“I don’t know. I went to my test knowing that I could not allow them to see what no one else had. And they didn’t.”
“You beat the testers?” She had expected Salomen to say that she skipped her testing and somehow the omission was lost in the records. This story was barely credible.
Salomen shrugged. “I did what I had to.”
“What you did was beyond belief. Testers are high empaths and extensively trained in the detection of empathic gifts, including all the ways of keeping them hidden. You weren’t the first child to try to fool them, but you’re the first one I ever heard of who actually succeeded.”
“I never heard of it either. If I’d known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to try. I’d have assumed it was impossible.”
“Isn’t it amazing what you can do if you just believe it?”
Salomen studied her. “Why are you being so nice?”
“Because I just scared you halfway to your Return and I really didn’t mean to. But this cannot continue. An untrained empath of your strength is a danger.” Tal held up her hand at the surge of dread. “No, don’t worry. I said I wouldn’t report you and I won’t. But there is a price.”
Instant wariness. Salomen might be a strong empath, but she had no ability to front her emotions from Tal’s senses. “And what is that?”
“You will accept an instructor immediately. I know several who would be honored to train one of your strength. The Whitemoon Sensoral Institute could—”
“No. I won’t go.”
Tal could not believe her ears. “You’d rather be reported?”
“Lancer Tal, please—I cannot leave my family. Not for that length of time. Don’t you see the role I play here? I’m the head of our house. If I spent the next five cycles in Whitemoon, what would happen to my father? And Jaros? Nikin and Herot can run the holding, but they don’t have the capacity to hold our family together.”
Tal considered her thoughtfully. Taking a child of ten from her family was one thing; removing the head of the house was another. Salomen had a point. Full training, and the change of caste it would entail, would devastate her family. The law did not exist merely to protect less gifted Alseans. It was also meant to make sure that gifted empaths were detected and given the means of developing their powers. Allowing Salomen’s tremendous potential to go undeveloped would be a tragic waste, but it was her loss and affected no one else. If Tal could guarantee that she had sufficient skills to protect other Alseans from the potential misuse of her powers, then the main concern of the law would be satisfied.
“Then there’s only one alternative,” she said. “I’ll instruct you.”
“Ah. Right. The Lancer of Alsea just happens to have sufficient spare time to spend five cycles training a single person—I think not.”
“No, I don’t have five cycles. But I have two moons, and in that time I can teach you the basics. You only need to know enough to protect yourself.”
Salomen’s laugh had no humor in it. “And you believe I would allow you into my mind?”
“Stop me if you can.” Tal dove in, penetrating without effort and projecting her intent.
“I agree to your terms. Please train me.”
She withdrew and watched the shock register.
“I didn’t mean that!” Salomen said in horror.
“Of course not. But you have the power to do what I just did. You have the strength for covert projection and empathic force. You could make someone transfer their fortune to you, or influence a Council member’s vote. You could even use another Alsean to commit murder. You are a danger.”
“I would never do any of those things! For Fahla’s sake, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know how.”
“I believe you, but in this instance I’m afraid your word is not sufficient. There’s another danger as well. Though you’re not a criminal, you could easily be used by one. I had no trouble entering your mind, even with you on your guard. Another strong empath could do the same thing, with more sinister intent. You could be forced to use your powers under someone else’s control.”
“But I—”
“Salomen, listen to me. You’ve avoided discovery so far, but your luck won’t hold out forever. You’re using your empathic strength every day without thinking about it, aren’t you? How did you know I tore open my arm yesterday? And don’t tell me you just happened to be walking by and heard me.”
Salomen couldn’t hold her gaze. “I felt it.”
“I thought it was an unfortunate coincidence that you were the one to find me. Someday there will be one too many coincidences, and now is not a good time for a high empath to be caught breaking Fahla’s covenant. It’s been a cycle and I still have people calling me a war criminal. Did you see what happened to the high empaths working with the smugglers in Whitemoon?”
“A lifetime sentence in the Pit,” she whispered. “I couldn’t believe it. All they did was make a few people look the other way.”
“Right now, that’s all it takes to destroy a life.”
Salomen dropped her head back into her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Tal said, “but I cannot allow this situation to continue. Either accept me as your instructor, or leave your family for a full training and change of caste.”
“Shek!” Salomen looked at her in despair. “Such an attractive set of options. Abandon my caste or allow the most proud, unfeeling, arrogant woman I have ever met full access to my mind.”
The words hit with surprising force. Certainly Tal felt the same about Salomen—at least regarding the pride and arrogance—so why would it bother her to hear that Salomen viewed her that way?
“What you lack in tact or consideration you certainly make up in honesty,” she said. “But you needn’t have made the effort; I already know what you think of me. You have a choice. Consider it, and give me an answer by tomorrow night.” She stood up. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a few things to do before coming down to evenmeal.”
Slowly, Salomen made her way to the door. She looked back once, then shook her head and walked through.
The moment the door shut behind her, Tal dropped back onto the bed. “What a mess,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 33
Bossy
Micah knew something was off the moment Salomen Opah came into the dining room. In all of his interactions with her, she had been supremely confident and outspoken, but this evening it was as if the light inside her had dimmed.
Fortunately, Jaros had not yet run out of questions even after three meals of asking, so there was no lack of conversation. Tal had to reassure his siblings that no, she wasn’t tired of answering.
“So you get to tell everyone what to do?” Jaros wanted to know. “And they have to do it, right?”
“If only it were that simple. There are laws far older than you or I which bind all of us, including me. I can order some people around, but not everyone, and I’m limited in what I can ask for.”
Jaros frowned as he reached for a biscuit. “Then why be Lancer if you can’t tell everyone what to do?”
Good question, Micah thought. That would certainly make both of their jobs easier.
“If someone wanted to harm your holding or your family, would you allow it?” Tal asked.
He bristled. “I would make them sorry they ever had the thought!”
“I feel exactly the same way about Alsea. Your holding is Hol-Opah; mine is Alsea. Your family sits here in this room; mine is the population of our world. I love Alsea, and it’s my duty to keep her whole and safe and productive. That’s why I’m Lancer.” A smile crossed her face as she added, “But it is nice to be able to tell people
what to do. Sometimes they have to do it.”
Jaros smiled back as he chewed. “So you—”
“Jaros,” interrupted Salomen, “do not speak until you have swallowed.”
He instantly swallowed an enormous amount of food, and Micah winced.
“So you’re like Salomen,” he said as soon as he could get his mouth open. “She’s the head of our family. You’re like her, but head of Alsea.”
“That’s exactly right.”
“But you’re not as bossy as she is.”
Micah snorted, and Tal shot him a glare.
“She certainly is,” Salomen said. “You just haven’t seen it yet, Jaros.”
Tal leaned toward the boy. “I am not,” she whispered, and he grinned.
The rest of the meal went by relatively quickly, though there was a difficult moment when Jaros announced that he wanted to be a warrior and Salomen informed him that he most certainly would not. Tal answered many more questions about her role as Lancer, eventually turning the conversation toward the holding itself. Micah learned more than he could have wished about its crops, operations, and market transport, though most of the information came from Shikal and his sons. Salomen was still quiet, and he knew her family noticed. They were curious and concerned, but would not speak of the matter in front of the Lancer and her Chief Guardian.
Tal didn’t linger at the table, excusing them as soon as she could politely do so. Micah rose with her and was pushing in his chair when Salomen spoke up.
“Just a moment, Lancer Tal. Today’s mornmeal was later than normal since it was a free day. Tomorrow we’re back to our regular work routine, and Jaros has to go to school, so we’ll be having mornmeal a hantick after sunrise, at morn-two.” She gave Tal a look of pure challenge and added, “I apologize if that’s too early for you.”
“No apology necessary,” Tal said. “I’ll have finished my daily run by then and will be more than ready for a good mornmeal. Thank you.”
Micah exchanged his goodnights with the family and followed Tal up the stairs, mulling over that look on Salomen’s face. The woman had been quiet all through the meal, and she lit up only when she could challenge Tal?
“I’m revising my opinion,” he said as they approached Tal’s room. “I thought this assignment would be an enormous headache, but instead it shows much promise. I’ll enjoy watching the battle.”
“It’s a challenge, not a battle.” Tal opened her door and stepped through.
That wasn’t what she had said last moon, but he knew better than to mention it. Leaning in the doorway, he said, “Why does she dislike you so intensely? You must have done something special to earn it.”
“I’ve done nothing but my duty. She apparently has a different definition of my duty and will not forgive me for not performing to her expectations.”
“Then you have earned her ire. And I suspect it will only get worse.” Chuckling, he added, “I’m fortunate to have the best tickets in the house.”
“Don’t be too satisfied with your seats. You might find yourself injured by an ill-aimed weapon, namely Salomen’s tongue.”
“Oh, I think not. Raiz Opah has extremely good aim, and she seems to have found a particular target. I’m feeling quite safe.”
Tal smiled as she picked up her reader card. “Ever hear of friendly fire?” She unrolled the reader card and tapped it once, her smile falling instantly.
“That must be from Aldirk,” Micah said. His own reaction to this ridiculous challenge had been a baby’s fart compared to Aldirk’s eruption. The only way Tal had calmed him down was by agreeing to regular meetings during the next moon, and the first was in two days. Aldirk was not about to let her stop being Lancer just because she had decided to be a field worker.
She looked up at him in despair. “Twelve reports, Micah. Twelve!”
He made a show of looking at his wristcom. “That gives you just enough time to finish them before your next attempt to impress Raiz Opah. Really, a run tomorrow? When I could barely get you out of bed today?”
She groaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking. She just gets to me.”
“There are probably a hundred and eighty councilors who would pay her for her secret. I’ve never seen you fall into a trap so easily.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I might pay her for it, too.”
He laughed as the door shut in his face.
CHAPTER 34
The knife and the sword
The Guards who greeted Tal for her morning run looked somewhat worse for wear. As they set off along the route that had already been scouted, she glanced at Gehrain. “Tiles last night?”
He grimaced, then nodded. “It won’t affect our performance.”
“Of course not.” She was feeling quite a bit better this morning, thanks to another night of sleeping like the dead. Too bad her Guards hadn’t been smart enough to have their party a day earlier.
“I had hoped to extend my usual run this morning,” she began. The total dismay of every Guard taxed her ability to keep a straight face. “…but I must be at mornmeal on time or risk verbal annihilation. So I’ll be content with the route we planned.”
A collective relief flooded her empathic senses.
“The next best thing is to run the route at a faster pace, don’t you agree?” she finished.
“Yes, Lancer,” Gehrain groaned.
She smiled and put on a burst of speed.
Tal felt a great sense of satisfaction at Salomen’s surprise when she strolled into the dining room, alert and freshly bathed. She sniffed the air with appreciation.
“Good morning. Is that fanten?”
“Yes, we raise them for ourselves. You won’t find a fresher cut anywhere.”
“Excellent! I adore fanten.” Tal poured herself a cup of shannel and sat across from Salomen, savoring the refreshing scent wafting off the hot drink. After her run, she could use its energy-giving properties. “Your holding is beautiful and very well cared for. I ran the south border this morning.”
“Which part?”
For a moment Tal didn’t understand the question. Then she smiled. “All of it. It was a little short for my normal run, but I wanted to be sure I’d be at mornmeal on time.”
“You ran the entire south border,” Salomen repeated blankly. “That’s eight lengths.”
“Mm-hm.” Tal sipped her shannel and closed her eyes as the flavor burst through her mouth. The first sip of shannel was always a bit of a jolt. “Those molwyn trees are gorgeous, and I saw a spearfisher in the river, teaching its young how to fish. What a way to start the day.”
Any reply Salomen might have made was preempted by the noisy arrival of Jaros.
“Lancer Tal!” He bounded into the room and happily pulled out the chair next to hers. “I saw you from my window, coming up our road. She runs with five Guards,” he informed Salomen.
“Yes, I know.” Salomen was far less impressed, but she smiled as her brother gazed up at Tal with worshipful eyes.
“Are those Guards the fastest in all Alsea? Is that why they run with you?”
“No, they run with me for my protection.”
He frowned. “You don’t need protection. You’re the most powerful warrior on Alsea.”
“But I’m not immune to physical harm. Not all Alseans agree with my policies, and some of them feel Alsea would be better served with another in my place. So they seek to remove me.”
“They cannot,” Jaros said stoutly. “We learned in school that the Lancer’s term ends in one of three ways: resignation, a caste coup, or a…” He thought for a moment. “A vote of no something.”
“A vote of no confidence,” Tal said, hiding her amusement.
“That’s what I meant. But my teacher says the warrior caste supports you, so there can’t be a caste coup. And he says that if there wasn’t a vote of no con
fidence after you broke Fahla’s covenant, it won’t happen now. So you can’t be removed.” He sat back, proud of his grasp of civics.
Tal felt a burst of affection for this boy who was so happy to have her in his house. “You’ve obviously paid attention in class.”
A secondary pride filtered through as Salomen said, “He always does. Jaros leads his class.”
Jaros straightened his shoulders and attempted to look modest, but his emotions had all the unfronted strength of most children his age.
“You have the right to be proud,” Tal said. “Knowledge is what separates those who do from those who don’t. But there is one more means of removal than the three you learned about. It’s called assassination.”
“Assassi…assassination?”
Salomen’s concern was sharp, and Tal met her eyes.
“He hosts the Lancer in his home. He should know.”
“Know what?” Jaros’s attention bounced between them.
After a pause, Salomen gave a reluctant nod.
“Assassination means murder,” Tal explained. “Usually for political reasons. The Guards run with me to prevent that from happening.”
“But why would anyone want to kill you?” he asked with wide eyes. “Salomen says Alsea has never been so prosperous as it has been under your rule. She says you’re the best leader Alsea has had in generations, and that no one else could have saved us from the Voloth.”
Salomen shook her head. “Jaros, saying anything to you is like alerting the media.”
“It is not!”
“I appreciate his honesty.” Tal smiled at her hostess, whose cheeks were slightly pink. “It’s refreshing to hear the full truth.”
Salomen ignored the emphasis on full and addressed her brother. “Lancer Tal is a good leader, it’s true. But no matter how good any leader is, there will always be some who disagree with the government. And of those who disagree, there will always be a few who are willing to kill for their beliefs. So Lancer Tal can never just run on the public road like you and me. She has to have Guards.”
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