Competitions

by Sharon Green

  The ladies continued on with occasional comments, but happily none were directed at him. He’d volunteered to be the one to accompany them in their coach as he’d really had no stomach to keep up his corner of a conversation with the other men. He was there in case the other coach was somehow delayed, as having two ladies arrive at the palace unescorted was unthinkable. None of them had known that, of course, not having had experience with the palace before this. Protocols were incredibly inflexible, and the ladies would have been left standing on the approach despite their invitations if they had arrived unescorted.

  Rion and the other men hadn’t told the ladies that, however, as there had been enough disturbance in everyone’s mind without that point. Where only a short while ago they had all been members of a closeknit group, now they’d somehow withdrawn into their individual selves. Jovvi, apparently the only one left with any sort of enthusiasm for continuing on, had somehow gotten them all to agree to try to reach members of the other groups. Rion had agreed as well and would keep his word to make the attempt, but it remained to be seen how successful it would be.

  All too soon their coach pulled up to the near approach, so Rion got out and turned to help the ladies. Behind him the palace blazed with the multicolored light of a hundred lanterns, and others could be seen arriving in coaches and carriages. All of them were costumed and masked just as Rion and the others were, but not in the same costumes and masks. Jovvi had been quite correct to say that they’d been marked for some purpose, and that fact simply added to Rion’s depression.

  The ladies held Rion’s arms as they all strolled up the approach toward the main entrance, Ro and Coll following right behind. Their coach hadn’t been delayed by anything after all, so the group would be able to enter as a group. Those who stood about the approach and on the verandah talking or waiting for friends stared at them, then began to exchange low-voiced, excited comments.

  “Isn’t it nice that so many people are impressed by our arrival?” Jovvi murmured. “After a single look they know exactly who we are, and they’re very impressed. Now why would people like them be impressed by a group which has ‘won’ only a single, low-level competition?”

  “Possibly because they know something that we supposedly don’t?” Tamrissa murmured in answer from Rion’s other side. “Like the fact that we’ll be competing in more than that single, low-level competition? Why do they know all about it while nothing has been said to us?”

  “They’re all members of the nobility,” Rion supplied, knowing it for a fact. “Apparently word has spread about our status, so they may make a general announcement tonight. Or not, just as it pleases them.”

  “I should mention that they’re also faintly afraid of us,” Jovvi said, much more soberly. “I wonder if they’ll be just as afraid of our noble counterparts.”

  “Probably not,” Rion told her when Tamrissa failed to venture an opinion. “Our counterparts will be considered civilized human beings and known quantities, while we…”

  “Are neither,” Jovvi finished with a nod when Rion let the sentence trail off. “Yes, I quite understand.”

  Rion was certain she did, but not quite as thoroughly as he did himself. She hadn’t grown up among these people, or at least on the fringes of them while being taught the same values…

  “Look who’s waiting for someone just inside the entrance,” Tamrissa said as they mounted the stairs to the verandah. “And without a mask, to be certain we recognize her.”

  “Lady Eltrina Razas,” Jovvi supplied with distaste. “At least she’s delighted to see us. Not a trace of fear in the woman, unless it’s due to the possibility of someone showing up in the same costume. But that’s hardly likely, considering the number of roses outlined in sequins on her skirt and bodice. There couldn’t be enough roses left in the empire to do a second costume like that.”

  Tamrissa giggled over the comment, and even Rion was forced to smile. He disliked Lady Eltrina even more than they did, although the disparaging comment about her costume would have been laughed at by the woman. She’d obviously spent a fortune having it made, and that would be all that concerned her.

  “Yes, let that group through, they’re my people and expected,” Lady Eltrina was saying to the guardsmen on duty as they reached the huge, double-doored entrance. “I’ll take charge of them, and show them where to go.”

  The head guardsman nodded and spoke softly to his men, so no properly engraved invitation was demanded of them. Those guests at the entrance before them stepped aside to allow them through, and Lady Eltrina gave them a wide, pleased smile.

  “You’re right on time,” she told them approvingly. “Just follow me, and I’ll show you to the ballroom.”

  She turned and moved off then, sailing along without turning back even once, and Jovvi murmured, “I wonder how she recognized us. We are wearing masks, after all. No, Rion, let’s not hurry after her.”

  Rion discovered that he’d unconsciously begun to increase his pace to match Lady Eltrina’s, and was therefore glad that Jovvi had brought it to his attention. Hurrying in that woman’s wake was the last thing he wanted to do, even if it ruined Lady Eltrina’s good mood. Especially if it ruined her mood.

  So they strolled up the central hall as though they really belonged there, with both Jovvi and Tamrissa looking around at the uninterrupted carvings on the marble walls twenty feet to either side of them. The ceiling was carved as well, Rion knew, but it was really too far above them to be easily seen at night. Jovvi looked at everything with only moderate interest, but Rion was amused to see that Tamrissa all but gaped. She was such an innocent child, to be impressed with her surroundings like this. She would certainly learn better eventually, but for now it was kinder to allow her the innocence.

  Eltrina eventually discovered that they weren’t right behind her, and her annoyance was clear when they finally caught up. She’d stopped at the entrance to an enormous ballroom, which seemed nevertheless to be well filled with people. They could hear music playing and see that some people were dancing—at least until Eltrina blocked their view.

  “Now isn’t the time to go sightseeing,” she lectured, looking at Jovvi and Tamrissa sternly. “I have to get you settled inside, as there are other things I must do. Please try to keep up this time.”

  Once Eltrina turned away to continue on into the ballroom, Rion exchanged an amused glance with Jovvi. It had felt good to annoy the testing authority representative, but it proved impossible to repeat the performance. There were too many people standing about for Eltrina to resume her sailing stride, and in order to keep from following closely, they would have had to stop walking altogether.

  Eltrina led them a good quarter of the way around the extremely large room, having moved to the right once they were all inside. They were only a couple of steps behind her when she stopped and turned to them again, at the same time gesturing to a nearby servant.

  “I’m going to assign this servant to fetch whatever you may want in the way of refreshment,” she said, addressing all five of them. “You are not to move from this spot unless I return and tell you to, or the consequences will be much more serious than you can imagine. When the Blending decides it’s ready to have you introduced to them, they won’t be amused to get here to discover that you’ve wandered off. Do you all understand what I’m saying?”

  “You may not think so, ma’am, but we are used to speakin’ and hearin’ the language,” Ro told her in a drawl. “But if you still doubt that, you could start lookin’ around for an interpreter.”

  “An excellent suggestion, Dom Ro,” the woman returned immediately, a faint blush in her cheeks. “The only problem is, I’d never find one in this particular crowd. I’ll be back to check on you all in just a little while.”

  With that she swept away, leaving a group of grimly satisfied people. Despite the masks, Rion could tell that the others had enjoyed Ro’s comments just as much as he had.

  “This turns out to be a rather interestin
g place for her to have left us,” Coll commented in a voice too low to reach the servant who now hovered just a short distance away. “Am I mistaken, or are those people down there wearing almost the same costume we are? Their sequined parts are also silver, but the rest is yellow. And all the way beyond them—is that a group wearing silver and brown?”

  “I think I also see silver and green all the way down near the far doors,” Ro put in, confirming Coll’s observations. “That makes four groups of us, so unless we just aren’t seein’ one, there’s a group missin’.”

  “That could be the ‘business’ Eltrina talked about,” Jovvi murmured. “Meeting the last group of us to arrive. But that’s not the only interesting thing about our position. Has anyone yet glanced across the room?”

  Rion did his glancing in the same casual way the others accomplished it, but he couldn’t hold back a faint sound of disgust.

  “That group across the way is wearing gold and blue, and down a bit to the right is one in gold and yellow,” he said. “Apparently we’ve been positioned for the benefit of our noble counterparts.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothin’ but an accident,” Ro said after making the same sound Rion had. “But isn’t this a little too obvious even for those fools at the testin’ authority? How are we supposed to miss seein’ that we’re here for them to look over?”

  “Maybe the point will be that we’re supposed to look them over as well,” Jovvi suggested. “If we don’t take advantage of the opportunity it won’t be their fault, not when we ought to be bright enough to have figured it out for ourselves. So I don’t know about the rest of you, but if any of them come over here to ‘chat’ with us, I’m going to be doing some definite looking.”

  Murmurs of agreement came in answer to her suggestion, but Rion wasn’t certain he cared to add his own. He detested the idea of being looked over as though he were a horse or a bolt of cloth about to be bought, which was undoubtedly the way those heavy-handed fools would manage it. Ah well, he’d already resigned himself to the probability of being a part of an unpleasant scene…

  “I believe I’ll ask for a glass of wine,” Rion said to everyone in general. “Would any of the rest of you care for something?”

  They all decided they did, so the hovering servant was summoned and given their drink orders. The man bowed and hurried away to fetch them, returning rather quickly with the drinks and a platter of fried cheese bits. The snack seemed rather cheap—until one tasted the breading on the outside and the seasoning within. The cheese bits had been prepared by a High artist of a chef, possibly a chef of one of the Five themselves.

  Only a short while went by while they sipped their wine and devoured cheese bits, and then suddenly there were people joining them. The people only just happened to be wearing costumes of gold and blue, and they all seemed to be rather amused.

  “I was told I would be impressed,” one of them, a woman, drawled as she looked around with obvious scorn. “‘They’re to be your opposite numbers,’ they said, ‘and you’ll find them formidable adversaries.’ So I checked your test results and now I’m over here looking at you, but somehow I’m not impressed. You lowborn fools won’t stand a chance against us.”

  “Stand a chance against you in what?” Jovvi asked, really emphasizing her pose of wide-eyed innocence. “The only thing you’re clearly capable of is showing bad manners, but I think we’ll prove to be better even at that.”

  “Watch how you speak to us, woman,” a man in gold and blue growled while his female groupmate gasped in insult. “If no one has ever taught you how to address your betters, it isn’t too late for you to be taught right now.”

  “Oh, we already know all about that,” Ro put in at once, smiling at the man without the least sign of amusement. “And as soon as people better than us start showin’ up, we’ll be glad to demonstrate.”

  “I told you it would be a waste of time to talk to these peasants,” another woman in their group announced huffily. “They have no idea how much weaker they are than us, and it was a mistake to think they’d be grateful if we told them we planned to be gentle. Now I don’t want to be gentle, even if they decide to give us no reason to hurt them during the competition.”

  “But we did have to try, my dear,” the man said, sounding as though he scolded her mildly. “Those in our position have a certain duty, and it would have been dishonorable if we’d simply overwhelmed them. Now we’ll do as we must with a clear conscience, knowing they flatly refused our offer. Come, let’s return to where we belong.”

  The five nobles turned with almost the same toss of the head, and then they were strolling back to where they’d come from. Rion was as silent as the others as he frowningly watched them go, and then Jovvi clicked her tongue.

  “What an absolute shame that we’ve now lost our only chance to get through the competition without being hurt,” she commented then. “With people so much stronger than us, we should have been exquisitely polite and thanked them sincerely for their big-hearted offer. I wonder if it’s too late to accept it after all.”

  “If we did some beggin’, there’s a small chance they’d change their minds again,” Ro answered dryly. “That has to have been the worst actin’ I’ve seen in a long while, not to mention the dumbest idea. Were we really supposed to have agreed to ‘givin’ them no reason to hurt us?’ Just because they said they’re stronger?”

  “They still expect the ploy to work,” Jovvi answered him. “The lowborn are supposed to take the nobility at their word, so that’s what they expected to happen now. They’re pleased with how well they’ve frightened us, and probably think we’ll accept their offer by the time we reach the competition.”

  “But we’re not supposed to know that we’ll be facing them,” Tamrissa pointed out with disturbance in her voice. “If they know we know, so should the testing authority. And how could they believe that we’re afraid of them? Didn’t they have their Spirit magic member checking us over?”

  “Not as far as I could tell,” Jovvi responded, still staring at the retreating nobles. “They apparently did no more than assume we would believe them, and thereafter made no attempt to check. Even the way that woman started an argument with us was part of their plan, but—I don’t like the rest of it. They shouldn’t have told us as much as they did, not without the least feeling that they were giving away secrets. I’m going to have to think about this.”

  Rion exchanged disturbed glances with the others, also disliking the implications. The group of people who had approached them were mindless fools, but they knew things that Rion and the others didn’t. Were those things important enough to mean an absolute defeat in the competition? If they weren’t, how could people raised in the midst of political backstabbing and social intrigue be so unconcerned?

  And even more importantly, was there any chance that he would survive what lay ahead of them even so far as to see Naran again? Somehow, he was beginning to doubt that…

  * * *

  Lord Kambil Arstin stood at the fringes of his group, watching his peers in gold and blue walk away from their counterparts in silver and blue. His fellow nobles were fully convinced that whatever they’d said to their future opponents would bring about the desired result, but Kambil knew better. If their Spirit magic user had bothered to check, he or she would have felt the same anger/derision/stubbornness/refusal that Kambil did.

  But it seemed that their Spirit magic user hadn’t checked, so they all rode a cloud of happy accomplishment that was meant to turn into openly acknowledged victory. Kambil still found it hard to believe that supposedly intelligent people could assume success at something without making more than a token effort to cause it to happen. He found it hard to believe, but knowing the way most of his peers had been raised, he also didn’t doubt it.

  And yet, that made his chore a good deal easier. He’d gently felt around the group in blue and silver with his talent, and had already located Clarion Mardimil. Or Rion Mardimil, as he now called himself.
Being on the receiving end again of the same sort of contempt he’d gotten all his life from his supposed peers would disturb Mardimil even more, and Mardimil’s disturbance would be Kambil’s advantage.

  Waiting until Mardimil had taken a step or two away from his group, Kambil began to make his way toward the man. Delin had told him to wait until after he’d spoken to their own opponents before going after Mardimil, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. Their opponents in orange hadn’t yet arrived, and if Kambil waited it was likely that Mardimil’s mood would change to one a good deal less usable.

  As Kambil moved, he readily admitted to himself that he disliked the idea of what he was about to do. If he’d had any choice at all he would have done something else entirely, but being a part of his particular group left him no choice. He’d simply have to go through with it, and worry about possible consequences at another time.

  Mardimil’s distraction wasn’t so deep that he didn’t realize Kambil deliberately approached him, so Kambil nodded as he came in speaking distance.

  “Yes, I recognize you, but I don’t expect the recognition to be mutual,” he said as he came to a halt. “I’m Kambil Arstin, and we knew each other a number of years ago.”

  “I remember the time,” Mardimil replied after a brief hesitation, displaying a great deal of surprise. “But as you said, it’s been a number of years. How did you happen to know who I was?”

  “I’m sure you realize there’s nothing involving ‘happen to’ about it,” Kambil replied with a smile of wry amusement. “Even if we’d been meeting fairly often at receptions and things, tonight we’re both masked and costumed. But at that, my costume should be enough to answer your question.”

  “You’re a part of one of the groups who will be contending as a Blending,” Mardimil obliged him, making no attempt to play coy. “You probably noticed my name on a list somewhere, and that way knew I’d be here tonight.”

  “Absolutely correct,” Kambil agreed, also refusing to play coy. “And I came to speak to you with a particular purpose in mind, but first I’d like to ask an intrusive question: what in the name of the Highest Aspect are you doing with them rather than with us? You don’t belong here any more than I would.”