Competitions

by Sharon Green

  “Ah, good day to you, Lord Homin,” Rigos said as he strolled past the servant holding the door without looking at the man. “Hosting our weekly meeting has given you the benefit of being precisely on time, but I do hope the intrusion won’t disturb your father. How is Lord Aston, by the way?”

  “Actually, he isn’t here,” Homin answered while hurrying after Rigos, who was in the process of walking toward the main reception room. “He’s gone to the lake house to recover from his ordeal in peace, and so far has sent word only to tell me that he arrived safely.”

  Rigos nodded casually at that as he kept going, bringing Homin the hope that the subject of his father would be dropped. Lord Aston Weil was not only in need of physical healing, he was also in jeopardy of losing his social and professional positions. Too many people now knew what his relationship with his wife had been, a knowledge which could well have ruined his political position for all time.

  Homin’s father had explained that he needed to be out of touch until he was physically fit again, and then he’d shocked Homin by crying while saying a temporary goodbye. He and his father had never been all that close, and the only time they’d cried together was when Mother had died. The same hadn’t happened over Elfini’s death, and in fact they’d never even spoken about her.

  “And how are you bearing up in the aftermath of the tragedy?” Rigos asked as he reached the tea table, pausing to glance at Homin. “I now understand your previous comments about being unable to practice, by the way. I hadn’t realized that Lady Elfini would be so foolish as to interfere in an Advisory matter, but apparently she overestimated her husband’s political strength. You really should have told me, and I would have taken care of the problem.”

  “I … couldn’t tell anyone about it,” Homin said, immediate and intense apology in his tone. “I had no way of knowing it would make any difference to you, and couldn’t imagine what you might do in any event.”

  “What I would have done was have you moved at once to the residence you and the others of your group will soon share,” Rigos replied, turning with a cup of tea in his hands to stare expressionlessly at Homin. “Don’t you understand yet how important this matter is to us? If it were possible to replace you, it would have already been done. Your government needs you, Lord Homin, and what we need we protect.”

  “Yes, of course, I should have realized,” Homin murmured as Rigos carried his cup of tea to a chair. What he actually realized was how serious the government really was about that competition business, and how angry they would be when he and his group disobeyed them and won. The thought was enough to make Homin wish he were with another, more docile group, but the wish lasted only a brief time. He still needed to be out and on his own, and then his father’s wives would no longer concern him. Others might think his father had learned to moderate his desires, but Homin knew better. And then he really heard something else Rigos had said.

  “Excuse me, sir, but what was that about a residence the group is going to be moved to?” Homin asked while returning to his own chair and cup of tea. “I thought we were told we all had to remain in our own homes.”

  “That applied only to the time of the preliminary process,” Rigos answered after tasting his tea, bringing that intense gaze of his back to Homin. “I’ll go into details about it once the others are here, and that way I won’t need to repeat myself. Until they arrive we can talk about other things, like the tragedy so recently past. Have the authorities found the culprit yet?”

  “No, not yet,” Homin answered with a sigh, resigning himself to discussing the matter he would most prefer to forget. “It took a short while before the investigators were completely convinced that I had nothing to do with the murder, but happily Delin’s father’s household staff works around the clock. I was somewhat upset when I reached the house so Delin told them to keep an eye on me, and they did. One or another servant looked in on me constantly even when I was asleep, and they were able to tell that to the investigators.”

  “How lucky for all of us that that’s so,” Rigos murmured with one of his frigid smiles. “The Advisors would have been furious if they’d had to interfere with the investigation. Everyone knows about the murder by now, of course, and it doesn’t matter if most people think Lady Elfini simply got what she deserved. They can’t allow any member of the nobility to be murdered without something being done about it, and that goes double for a member of the high nobility.”

  “Yes, the investigators made me sit down and give them a list of everyone who had ever known Elfini,” Homin agreed, remembering how frightened and cornered he’d felt at the demand. “I wasn’t able to give them more than two or three names, but my father supplied dozens. As a matter of fact—”

  “As a matter of fact, what?” Rigos prompted when Homin’s words broke off in mid sentence, the agent’s dark eyes intense. Homin had begun to tremble as he silently cursed his big mouth, but there was no getting out of it.

  “As a matter of fact … your name was … on his list,” Homin answered slowly from a dry mouth. “Father said you and she had had … words once, but that was some time ago. And you weren’t the only one, so please don’t think—”

  “No, no, it’s quite all right,” Rigos interrupted with one hand raised, his gaze now hooded and his face expressionless. “I’d been wondering if they knew about that incident, and now I know they do. The fact that they haven’t spoken to me about it undoubtedly means they’ve dismissed it as the unimportant spat it really was.”

  Homin quickly and eagerly nodded his agreement, and then fell prudently silent. The fact that the investigators hadn’t spoken to Rigos really meant nothing, and Homin was certain Rigos knew it. But at least he wasn’t the one who had supplied Rigos’s name, thank any Superior Aspect there was…

  The silence was in the process of growing intense and painful when a happy interruption occurred. Kambil and Bron were shown in together, and while those two were helping themselves to tea, Delin and Selendi arrived together. Homin had known that would happen, but the surprise pulled Rigos out of his brown study.

  “I’m impressed,” Rigos said, looking from one to the other of the new arrivals. “All of you are precisely on time, and without needing a life-threatening situation.”

  “Actually, most of us have decided that we’re bored and want this matter over and done with,” Delin said for the group with a charming smile. “The best way to accomplish that is to keep the distractions to a minimum, so Kambil and I volunteered to help the others keep to the schedule. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “On the contrary,” Rigos assured him, his frigid smile now somehow colder. “I feel I owe you two a vote of thanks, and will therefore include your selfless actions in my report. As soon as you’re all seated, we’ll be able to begin.”

  That ended the conversation for the moment, but didn’t produce the hurry Rigos might have wanted. Homin watched his group peers examining the room while they waited for their turn at the tea urn, or at least some of them did the examining. Kambil had simply taken one glance around, and then had given all his attention to pouring tea. Delin seemed too pleased with what Rigos had said to bother with even that single glance, but the second two made up for the first.

  Bron and Selendi wore an identical expression as they slowly looked around, and that expression wasn’t one of approval. The reception room was just as Homin’s mother had decorated it, since Elfini hadn’t yet gotten around to changing it. The old fashioned but very comfortable furniture and accessories had brought looks of ridicule to Selendi and Bron, which shockingly made Homin angry. It wasn’t cost or bad taste which had kept his father from modernizing the room, it was sentiment, and yet those two dared to look down on what was really his mother’s memory. Homin was completely unused to being angry, but in this case—!

  “And now we can begin,” Rigos said, pulling Homin out of distraction to see that everyone had chosen a seat. “Last week’s report was a satisfying improvement over previous one
s, but this week’s is even better. Allow me to congratulate all of you on having achieved your second-level masteries.”

  Murmurs and comments blended into a soft gabble at that, and Rigos smiled his winter smile.

  “Yes, that does include Lord Homin, something you all seem to be asking,” he said with his version of amusement. “The excuse of not being able to practice was apparently no excuse after all, as Lord Homin quickly caught up to the rest of you once he had the opportunity to work at it.”

  “Actually, we expected nothing less,” Delin said with a broad smile for Homin, taking some of the sting from Rigos’s ridicule. “We’ve all made a pact to do our utmost to keep ourselves from looking ridiculous during the competitions, and gentlemen never break a pact with other gentlemen. Besides, we all know how much it will please our families.”

  “Yes, your families have been asked to be attentive to your efforts,” Rigos drawled, now sending his ridicule to all of them. “With all talk of decisions and pacts aside, that point still remains. I suggest you keep it firmly in mind over the next several days.”

  No one responded to that, and Homin could see how pleased the silence made Rigos. The agent obviously believed it was fear of parental displeasure which had finally moved them all to proper behavior, and that was precisely what they all wished him to believe. Selendi looked sullen, Bron resentful, Delin annoyed, and Kambil bland, and that seemed to please Rigos as well.

  “You now have two scheduled events before you,” Rigos went on once he’d had his enjoyment. “The first comes on the evening of the first rest day after week’s end, and is a reception being given in the palace. All competing groups will attend, ours as well as theirs, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who ‘theirs’ is.”

  “You don’t mean the peasants?” Selendi asked with an expression of shock. “But that’s disgusting! Isn’t it bad enough we have to lower ourselves to compete with them? Asking us to associate with them is completely unreasonable.”

  “You won’t be there to associate, but to study,” Rigos answered, giving her a withering look and then one of dismissal before turning his main attention to Kambil and Delin. “Your Blending will face one or more of the Blendings they form, and after the reception you’ll be given even more information about them. The information will mean more to you if you can attach faces as well as names to it.”

  “What do you mean, we’ll be facing one or more of their groups?” Delin asked, leaning forward with concentration. “We’ve been told nothing about this, so it’s about time we were.”

  “That’s one of the reasons we’re gathered here today,” Rigos replied comfortably, his attitude saying that Delin should have known that without being told. “There will be five noble groups and five peasant groups competing for the Throne, and the first round of competitions will pair one noble group and one peasant group. The winning group of each pair will face another winning group in the second round, and if all the peasants—or your own group—haven’t lost in the first round, you’ll need to face a second group of them.”

  “But of course they’ll all lose in the first round,” Bron said with a snort of ridicule. “They’re peasants, aren’t they, which means they don’t stand a chance against us. That also means we’ll only have to face a single group of the rabble, so why will we have to learn about all of them? Why not just the group we’ll be facing?”

  “There are two reasons for what you consider a waste of time, Lord Bron,” Rigos responded, now using that ridicule on a new target. “The first is that we won’t know for certain which group you’ll be facing until the pairing is approved by the board appointed to oversee the competitions. Our suggestions have usually been accepted in the past, but not always. If someone on the board decides to change them, you have to be ready.”

  Homin could see the way Bron’s jaw clenched, but the big man didn’t respond to Rigos’s taunting. And then, with a great deal of surprise, the reason for that came to Homin: Bron feared Rigos almost as much as he did! It was a revelation to think that the flamboyant, undisciplined man was no better than Homin in that respect, which definitely made it something to remember.

  “And what’s the second reason?” Kambil asked quietly when no one else did. “I, for one, am grateful for the help that’s been given me, and I intend to continue being grateful—especially for necessary information.”

  “I would expect no less from you, Lord Kambil,” Rigos said with a small inclination of his head. “With that in view, the second reason is that peasant groups have won in the first round, usually against groups like the one yours was just a short time ago. If one of the groups of your peers grows indifferently lax, it will certainly happen again.”

  “So it’s to our own benefit to learn as much about the peasants as we can,” Delin said, pretending to speak to Rigos while actually speaking to Homin and the others. “Since that’s the case, I think you can depend on me at least to do all the studying necessary.”

  Homin nodded with most of the others to show he joined them in agreeing, but Bron still seemed annoyed.

  “In my opinion it’s a waste of time to worry about them, but I won’t stop anyone who enjoys wasting his time.” Bron glanced at Delin then, and Homin had the impression that Delin was part of Bron’s annoyance. “What else is there that we need to know?”

  “You might want the details of the second scheduled event,” Rigos suggested, the disdain in his expression showing his opinion of Bron. “That will come at the beginning of the new week, when you’ll all be moved into a single residence. You’ll need to be together once you’ve been formed into a Blending, and that’s the only way to accomplish it.”

  “It better not be small, or dirty, or without decent servants,” Selendi told him sourly while everyone else made a sound of surprise. “And it better not be old and ugly, or I just won’t go. If any of my friends ever saw me in a house that was old and ugly, my social life would be over.”

  “I’m sure your social life will survive with flying colors,” Delin said to her quickly before Rigos was able to voice his very obvious exasperation. “We all have to make sacrifices, remember, but I’m sure this won’t be one of yours. The Advisors need our participation too badly to put us into a hovel—isn’t that true, Rigos?”

  “Of course it is,” Rigos confirmed with vast annoyance. “Anyone with a mind would have known that without being told. We’ll expect you to have your clothes and possessions packed and ready to go first thing in the morning, and if you aren’t ready that will be your loss. The reception will begin somewhat early, so be sure you’re ready for that as well. And now it’s time for me to go, but first I’d like a private word with Lord Kambil. A lady has asked me to pass on her … greetings.”

  His smile was coldly amused as he rose and headed for the door, making no effort to see if Kambil actually followed. But Homin realized he didn’t have to look, since Kambil followed the agent out of the room without hesitation. Kambil was big enough to break Rigos in half, and politically powerful enough to get no more than a slap on the wrist if he ever did. Rigos surely knew that, but he still demanded Kambil’s attention—and got it.

  That was one of the things power did for you, Homin mused as he watched the door close behind the two men. It was a frightening thing to consider, but if their plans were successful he might one day have that much power … or even almost that much … and then he would be safe from everyone…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Delin watched Kambil walk out behind Rigos, and made sure to keep nothing but a pleasant smile on his face. Inside himself was another matter, however, where suspicion had suddenly sprouted. Kambil might be one of his people, but that still didn’t mean he liked or trusted the man.

  “I wonder what that’s all about,” Bron said, still watching the door Delin had turned away from. “And I hadn’t realized those two were such good friends.”

  “It might be a good idea to ask Kambil when he returns,” Delin said, giving the
thickheaded Bron the prompting the man always seemed to need. “For myself, I’m going to get another cup of tea.”

  Bron grunted his agreement with the suggestion as Delin rose, but he didn’t seem very happy about doing it. Something was obviously bothering Bron, but at least he had the good sense not to mention whatever it was while Rigos was still in the house. For all they knew, the agent might be simply standing and listening at the door, with Kambil out there in the hall just to fool them. Kambil would be unable to call out and warn them; if he tried it, Rigos would be instantly certain that they were up to something.

  All of which convinced Delin that the time had come to rid them all permanently of Rigos’s presence. As he poured tea into his cup, Delin frowned, wishing it were possible to save Rigos for a more lingering and painful ending. That was something he’d been looking forward to, but now he had to admit that waiting would simply be too dangerous. Rigos already knew them far too well, and if he discovered the least hint of what they were up to he would inform on them at once.

  And as it happened, Delin knew exactly how to get rid of Rigos without any of the group getting involved. His frown turned to a smile as he remembered how easily the plan had come to him, appearing complete and fully detailed when he awoke two days ago. If that didn’t show that his destiny was for greatness, nothing else would. A problem arose, but the true leader of the group already had an answer to take care of it.

  “How long are they going to be out there?” Selendi demanded as she stood and flounced over to refill her own teacup. “I mean, just how long does it take to give a man a message from a girl?”

  “Some girls send messages on more than a single subject,” Bron told her with a laugh. “I know you have no idea what those other subjects are, my sweet, but don’t let that worry you. No one expects you to.”

  “As if you would know about other subjects,” Selendi returned, faint color in her cheeks as she glared at Bron. “The only thing you know about is—”