by Sharon Lee
"Card-sharp!" she cried. "Stop him!"
The pleasure-seekers--gamesters and High Houselings alike--turned to stare at the one so hideously accused; several young gentlemen were seen to cast down their dice or their cards and move in pursuit.
Hia Cyn slammed to a halt, staring at the room full of masks, the avid eyes focused on him. He glanced down at his left hand, fingers still uselessly clutching his mask. Revealed, he thought. Revealed and ruined.
"Do not run from the lordship's Balance, Hia Cyn," Betea's voice was quite near. He jerked his head up and stared at her. "It was wrong, what we did. And now a man has died of it."
"A fool has died of it," he snarled, snatching his hidden pistol free. "And not the only one."
He raised the weapon and pulled the trigger.
Betea fell, someone in the crowd of pleasure-seekers screamed; someone else shouted. And Hia Cyn turned, seeking the way out--
And found instead a tall man dressed all in evening lace and jewels, the blue stone in his ear blazing. He was showing empty hands, which marked him a third fool.
"Put the gun aside," Pat Rin said, pitching his voice for gentleness. "Put the gun aside and stand away. Hia Cyn. You hold no winning cards here."
"No?" The gun came around, the eyes wild and the face aflame with some fever of madness.
There was no time to warn the crowd, no time to think. Pat Rin brought his right hand down, felt the little gun slide into his palm. The target...
Hia Cyn fired as he fell; the pellet from Pat Rin's palm gun had already shattered his heart.
There was silence among the pleasure-seekers, and Pat Rin, shaking, slipped his weapon away. Several of the young gentlemen were bending over what was left of Hia Cyn yo'Tonin. He went to kneel beside Betea sen'Equa, discovering a heartbeat, and a wound to the upper arm. She opened her eyes as he bent over her.
"Lord," she said breathily to Pat Rin as he stooped near her, "the masks!"
"Yes."
It was absurdly difficult to untie the ribands that held his own mask in place. If only his fingers wouldn't shake so...
Finally, the thing was done and he stood, raising his hand for silence against the sudden storm of chatter: " yos'Phelium!" "Suicide to draw against a yos'Phelium!" "He must have been in his cups!" "Card-sharp! The hostess herself accused him!"
Someone--he thought it was Dela bel'Urik--called, stridently, for silence.
It fell, and Pat Rin cleared his throat.
"If someone would be so good as to call the Port Proctors? Also, it would be well to remove your masks."
These things were done, and when the Proctors did arrive, in goodly time, since they also knew the street, the only mask in the room was held in the death grip of Hia Cyn yo'Tonin.
* * *
IMTAL HERSELF RECEIVED the debt-book from his hands, riffled the pages, and read the four accountings, lingering over the fourth. She lay the book aside.
"Our House is honored," she said, bowing.
"It was an honor to serve," Pat Rin replied, properly, and bowed even lower.
"Hah." She considered him out of tired brown eyes. "And what else do you bring me, child of Korval?"
Pat Rin moved his hand and Betea came forward, bowing as he had shown her.
"This is Betea sen'Equa; her name appears in the last entry in the book. Alas, Fal Den wrote neither a plus nor minus beside her name, nor any other elaboration; and I am unable to precisely reconstruct his will regarding her."
The brown eyes narrowed. "I have read the last entry, and found it unilluminating. 'In consideration of the melant'i of all involved, all debts in this pairing must be considered satisfied, pending the delm's acceptance of the matter'."
Pat Rin bowed acknowledgment. "Just so. Betea took part in the scheme which caused Fal Den's death; it was something in which I feel she was also a victim. Your kinsman could not himself squarely place the debt, nor can I. The best Balance I may craft is to suggest that you speak with this person, candidly and at length, and that a new Balance be struck if need be, to Balance the loss of Fal Den's worth." He paused, then added, with utmost delicacy.
"I also suggest that you consult most closely with your business advisors about the matters this woman may reveal before setting that worth. Had it not been for the unfortunate public suicide of Hia Cyn..."
"yo'Tonin. I have heard the news of that, and I have--as you may understand--heard other news of that. I would not have had such a necessity forced opon you."
"The necessity was mine, Imtal. I could hardly have refused to serve Fan Del's wishes."
There was a short silence, then an inclination of the head. "As you say. I assume that this is the young person who was wounded in the service our House?"
"Imtal, it is."
"Hah." The brown eyes now frankly swept Betea. "My father knew your Grandmother. Well."
Betea managed a strong voice: "My grandmother knew many people. Well."
It was the correct response. Imtal smiled. "Assuredly, we shall need to talk--candidly and at length."
To Pat Rin and inclined her head. "My thanks for your service to our House."
That was a dismissal. Pat Rin bowed. "My thanks for the forbearance of the House. I grieve for your loss, as well as my own."
That said, and most properly, he allowed himself to be ushered from the room.
About the Authors
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller live in the rolling hills of Central Maine with three insistent muses in the form of cats, and a large cast of characters. Best known for their work in the Liaden Universe®, Lee and Miller have seen published seventeen collaborative novels. Baen Books (www.baen.com) is currently releasing all of the Liaden novels in several omnibus volumes. The next original Liaden novel, Ghost Ship, will be published in August 2011.
