Competitions

by Sharon Green

  Her words broke off as the door opened again, just a heartbeat before Delin would have broken up the squabble. Kambil came back in, closing the door again behind him.

  “He’s gone,” Kambil announced as he headed back for his seat and teacup. “I walked him to his carriage, watched him pull away, then told one of the servants to let us know immediately if he happens to come back.”

  “And he gave you your message?” Bron asked him without the cueing Delin was ready to perform. “It seems strange that you two should be close enough for something like that.”

  “There was no message, Bron,” Kambil replied with faint surprise, as though he’d expected everyone to know the truth. “He wanted to thank me privately for that ‘report’ I sent him last week. Don’t you remember that I told all of you what I was doing?”

  “Oh, yes, that business about repeating things said by members of other groups at parties,” Delin interrupted, only now remembering about it. “So you made things up and he liked them, did he?”

  “But I didn’t make things up,” Kambil corrected with faint amusement in his eyes. “I may have … reworded some of what I heard, but every bit of it was really said—in one way or another. I even included quotes from Bron and Selendi.”

  “What?” Bron exploded, rising from his chair. “You told that—that—deficient something about me?”

  “You and Selendi,” Kambil corrected again, apparently completely undisturbed by Bron’s anger. “I said I heard you musing aloud a time or two about what you would do if our group ever actually won the Throne, but Delin, Homin, and I were too bored to speculate about something that would never happen. Selendi, though, thought your ideas were marvelous, and went on to discuss how many servants she would have and how many new gowns if she were one of the Five on the Throne. Rigos told me he found that part of it amusing.”

  “But not suspicious, which it would have been if he hadn’t said anything about us at all,” Delin explained to a still-angry Bron, trying to settle the man down. “Rigos couldn’t have been surprised to hear you have ambition, Bron, but without the support of the rest of us your ambition is nothing to worry about.”

  “It better be that way,” Bron growled, glaring another moment at Kambil before switching his stare to Delin. “And you and I have something to discuss. I’m the leader of this group, and I didn’t like the way you made it look as if you and Kambil were. Maybe Selendi needs help to get to a meeting on time, but I don’t need anyone nursemaiding me.”

  “Bron, that was just more misdirection,” Delin told the fool, pretending to be wearily repentant. “I’m sorry if what I said disturbed you, but I was trying to keep Rigos from realizing that you’re our leader. Would you like me to apologize more fully?”

  “No … no,” Bron decided, his anger having drained out to leave his head in its usual empty state. “Now that I understand what you were doing, you don’t have to apologize. Just warn me in advance next time… And now we can get to discussing these other things Rigos wants us to do. I happen to have made plans for the time we’re supposed to be at that reception, so I say we ‘forget’ to go.”

  “But we can’t do that,” Homin blurted, startling everyone, apparently including himself. “I mean, we’ll be facing some of those people in the competitions. If we don’t learn all we can about them, we might lose. Once we’re seated on the Throne, we’ll be able to have any girls we want.”

  “I agree with Homin,” Kambil said with a smile of encouragement for the fat little man, while Bron developed a stubborn look. “We do need to see who we’ll be up against, and maybe even do a bit more. If we can get one or two from each group to tell us about any problems their groupmates might have, it will give us even more of an advantage. And if any of them happen to be pretty girls, Bron, we’ll certainly need your help.”

  “Yes, I suppose you would,” Bron grudged, finally coming around to reason. “All right, here’s what we’ll do: we’ll go to that stupid reception, talk to those peasants as though we considered them actual people, and I’ll handle any attractive females there might be. We find out everything we can, and that way we won’t have any surprises during the competitions. Is all that clear?”

  Everyone nodded without comment, just as though the plan were Bron’s and he’d only just unveiled it. Delin found it ludicrous to think that a supposedly grown man had no idea he was being led around, but apparently everything about Bron was ludicrous.

  “Now we’re up to this business about moving into a residence together,” Bron said after a short pause. “That happens to be something I approve of, since we’ll then be out from under our fathers’ thumbs. As long as we don’t get in the way of each other’s private lives, things should work out nicely.”

  “And as long as the place is decent,” Selendi apparently felt compelled to add again. “I simply refuse to live in a shack, and I expect the rest of you to back me up on this. Unless one of you wants to live in a shack.”

  She looked at each of them in turn, and to Delin’s amusement they each solemnly assured her that they did not want to live in a shack. That seemed to satisfy the empty-headed girl, so Delin was able to get on with truly important things.

  “Bron, don’t you think we all ought to keep practicing while we’re waiting to be formed into a Blending?” he said, giving the idiot another prod. “And I, at least, would like to congratulate Homin on catching up to the rest of us so quickly despite the tragedy in his life. We’re proud of you, Homin, and doubly proud that you’re one of us.”

  Homin reddened and began to stutter through a thank-you for what Delin had said, but Bron managed to ruin the mood by adding, “As long as he continues to keep up. I can’t see that he’ll be terribly important to the Blending, but one weakness can weaken us all. That’s why I want all of you to continue practicing, and if you have any problems, make an appointment to see me. We’ll see each other again at the reception, and now let’s all go home.”

  Homin tried to tell them that they were welcome to stay for a while and visit, but everyone seemed to feel as smothered by that old house with its tasteless furnishings as Delin did. They all claimed prior commitments and escaped, and in just a few minutes Delin was in his carriage and on his way back home.

  But not to stay there. He smiled as he thought about the first step in his plans, which was to go and dig up the knife which had done such a thorough job on Elfini. Then he would remove every trace of himself from the thing, every drop of sweat and every hint of bodily oil. The third step would take him secretly to Rigos’s house, where physical traces of the man would be everywhere. It had never before occurred to Delin that those traces might be transferred to the cleansed knife, but with Earth magic it was more than possible. Then he would rebury the knife, somewhere on Rigos’s property.

  Then would come the fourth step, which would be the “accidental” meeting with Atri Folgar, a girl pretty enough to make you forget that her father was one of the Advisors’ top investigators—and that she was bright as well as pretty. Delin usually chatted and flirted with her, but this time his chatting would casually mention how strange his group’s “protector” Rigos was. It would turn out that Delin had heard someone say something about Rigos and Elfini, a passing comment that had made him believe Rigos was more closely involved with Elfini than anyone had realized. Then Delin would make a delicately rude comment about the tastes of some men before changing the subject.

  Which ought to make Atri mention the conversation to her father. That part of the ploy was dangerous, but not overly so. Since a weapon had been used to commit the murder rather than ability, no one should suspect a man with High ability. Rigos was the one who would come under suspicion, enough of it for the investigators to bring in a Middle talent strong enough to locate hidden, finished metal. The buried knife stood out sharply to Delin’s least probe, so even a Middle talent ought to be able to find it.

  “It’s a good thing they didn’t try that before now,” Delin muttered very softl
y to himself with a chuckle. No one had thought to search the grounds surrounding the victim’s own house, not when the murderer must have taken the weapon away with him. When they found it on Rigos’s property there would still be traces of Elfini’s blood on it, something the physician who had examined the body would be able to confirm. That, along with Rigos’s own traces, would settle his hash, and Delin’s group would no longer have to worry about premature discovery.

  “And his trial ought to be quite entertaining,” Delin murmured to the passing scenery. “He’ll be arrested at once, of course, but the trial might well be delayed until the new Five are enthroned. If so, I’ll enjoy the time even more.”

  Delin chuckled again, picturing Rigos’s father disassociating himself rather than trying to help Rigos. With the victim a member of the high nobility, no one would get away with no more than a slap on the wrist for committing the crime. But even if Rigos were to get away with it, Delin would be far from disappointed. The man would still be ruined, which meant no one would notice if he suddenly disappeared.

  Yes, Delin thought, and then I could have my cake as well as eat it. His mind went off to picture the joy he would find in having Rigos his to end slowly and painfully, and the smile remained on his face for quite some time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Vallant came to the dinner table pretty much with everyone else, except for Tamrissa Domon. He’d been there earlier in the day when Tamrissa and Jovvi had returned in their coach, with Tamrissa sound asleep. Jovvi had had one of the servants carry Tamrissa to her bedchamber, and Vallant had firmly squashed the automatic thought that he would have enjoyed carrying the girl. He now wanted no more to do with Tamrissa than she wanted with him, and he was glad that she’d slept away the entire day—as had some of the others.

  And now she was late coming down to dinner, almost as late as Pagin Holter. The small man had been there for lunch, actually joining the table conversation without being prodded into it, and afterward had even spent a short time chatting with Lorand Coll. That was the last Vallant had seen of him, and when Tamrissa hurried into the room, he was the last of them still missing.

  “I’m sorry for being late, everyone,” Tamrissa said with an embarrassed smile meant for all of them as she took her place at the table. “I managed to exhaust myself during those tests, and it was hard to get up even after sleeping all day. Has anyone sent a servant to see what’s keeping Dom Holter?”

  Jovvi seemed about to answer, but Warla’s sudden appearance kept the words from being spoken. The shy girl seemed to be just as nervous as always, and she cleared her throat to announce her presence, just as though everyone hadn’t already seen her come in.

  “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but you have a visitor,” the girl quavered once it was clear that she had everyone’s attention. “Lady Eltrina Razas would like a few minutes of your time.”

  “Thank you, child,” Eltrina Razas said, making an entrance befitting what she obviously thought was her proper station and due. Vallant didn’t like the woman, and wouldn’t have trusted her behind his back under any circumstances.

  “Yes, my dear people, I come with news,” Eltrina continued, beaming around at them. “First let me congratulate all of you on achieving your second-level masteries, which your bracelets proudly announce. And you have my thanks for settling another week’s finances.”

  The woman grinned at the “joke” she’d make, but Vallant wasn’t the only one who did no more than smile politely. They’d gotten the silver they’d been promised, but the gold was still nowhere in sight.

  “Now to the news that I think will please you,” the woman went on, apparently ignoring the lack of enthusiasm over her attempt at humor. “Tomorrow morning you’ll all be going to the first of the competitions, where victory will mean the gold you were promised. Doesn’t that sound good?”

  This time she got more of a reaction from everyone, especially since Vallant felt as though she’d read his mind. Fear tried to come at the thought of his having to enter that small, windowless building, but Vallant pushed it away to worry about later.

  “Yes, I thought you’d enjoy hearing that,” Eltrina said once the exclamations had died down, her smile having grown sleek. “You might also be interested in learning that those of you who win will get something in addition to the gold. The day after tomorrow there will be a reception at the palace for all successful candidates, and if you qualify you’ll be attending it.”

  The reaction to that news was more of a shocked silence, which Vallant was forced to admit he participated in. In general the idea of nobility left him vastly unimpressed, but the Five’s palace was another matter entirely. Ordinary people had to be satisfied with seeing it from the outside—and at a distance—but they’d just been given personal invitations … assuming they won.

  “That’s very exciting news, Lady Eltrina,” Tamrissa said, and there was a sparkle of excitement in her beautiful eyes. “I’m sure we’ll all do our best, but I wish you’d waited for Dom Holter to join us before telling us about it. He’ll be disappointed that he missed hearing it directly from you.”

  “That’s another point we need to discuss,” Eltrina said, hidden amusement of some sort clear to Vallant as he looked at her. “Dom Holter was moved to another residence this afternoon, one that would have been running at a financial loss without another participant in residence. I’m sure you’ll all miss him, but if he’s successful in the first competition, most of you will see him at the reception. Are there any questions?”

  Vallant had to fight to keep himself from looking at the others, and he could see that Coll, the only one in his direct line-ofsight, appeared to be having the same problem. If Holter no longer shared their residence, there was now only a single representative of each of the five aspects. That had to mean they’d been chosen to be a challenging Blending, even if Eltrina wasn’t yet ready to tell them about it.

  “There don’t seem to be any questions,” Eltrina said brightly after looking around at them. “That means I can now leave you to enjoy your meal, but don’t worry if a question occurs to you later. I’ll also be at the reception, and those of you who attend can ask me then. Good night, all.”

  The woman turned and left the room after giving them an airy wave of her hand, but for a moment no one seemed able to speak or move. Vallant knew exactly how they felt, and it was a definite relief when Jovvi sighed and leaned back in her chair.

  “Well, that was clear enough,” she said, looking at each of them to see that they understood what “that” was: the virtual certainty that they would soon be made into a Blending. “We seem to have only one more challenge before us, which will be the competition tomorrow. Anyone who doesn’t win doesn’t get to go to the reception.”

  Or join the Blending, was the unspoken addition. By then the servants had entered with their food, so no one did any more than nod. Not that anyone needed to do more, Vallant admitted silently. Or point out the fact that he, at least, might not make it after all.

  “Excuse me, Dom Ro, but I wonder if I might have a few minutes of your time after dinner?” Vallant heard the words which dragged him back to the present, and for an instant thought it was Jovvi who had spoken them. When he realized that it was Tamrissa instead, his insides tightened into a painful spring. Most likely the woman wanted to tell him again how distasteful she felt sharing his bed would be, or possibly she meant to tell him again that only cowards refused to see how far they could go in life. He was in the mood for neither thing, and so shook his head as he gave his attention to the food.

  “I’m sorry, Dama Domon, but I intend to go right to bed after dinner,” he replied in the most neutral tone he was capable of, making sure not to look at her. “Tomorrow will be a difficult day for some of us, so I’m afraid the conversation will have to be saved for another time.”

  Nothing of words came in the way of a response or argument, and a glance at the girl while reaching for a roll showed Vallant what seemed to be dis
appointment on her face. He’d obviously taken away her chance to make him feel even worse than he did, but that was just too bad. She could try again tomorrow night—assuming he still rated a place in the residence.

  Which, considering where the competition would be held, wasn’t very likely. And he’d been the fool who’d wanted to get to the first competition because it suited his mood. Well, there was no arguing that it certainly did suit his mood now…

  * * *

  Eltrina Razas let the servant help her into her carriage, the smile on her face showing just how pleased she was with the way things were going. She’d even managed to form six groups of potential challenging Blendings, so if any of the members of the first five happened to become unavailable, it would be possible to replace him or her.

  But the peasant Holter would not be returned to this residence if that beautiful man Ro happened to fail in his attempts to keep up. Holter had actually begun to settle in as a full member of the group, proving how little taste those lowborn commoners had for encouraging such a thing. The man was a peasant even to them, after all… But Holter was gone, leaving Ro and his problem—and his ever-growing feud with the Domon female. Her spies had told her that they’d even stopped speaking, and she herself had heard, just a moment ago, the way the man had refused to grant the girl even a handful of minutes of his time.

  Eltrina’s smile widened as her carriage began to move, her plans having been easily adapted. These people would never make an effective Blending, and when they failed she would exercise her authority and take first choice from among them. She’d been too busy to notice earlier how really beautiful a man Ro was, with those broad shoulders, that handsome face, and that delicious platinum-blond hair. But she’d noticed tonight, and once his bright and mighty prospects turned to powdered dust, he’d be more than anxious to give her a time of the pleasure she desired.