by Doris Egan
He'd calmed down considerably, and I was just starting to get upset. I could feel the adrenaline tide receding in my veins. Should I ask to have Sim taken to an outplanet clinic? But time was important with pencil burns, and if this Kat were really experienced… I nodded. "Cormallon would be grateful if you'd see to his welfare." He smiled and bowed, understanding that I'd committed my House to looking kindly on his bill.
At once he said, "Kery! Jin! Make sure he gets to the healer's in one piece, and stay with him when you get there."
I dearly wanted to sit down. But if I did that, I might not get up again. I moved to where I could lean against one of the tile machines.
Loden was a few meters away, sitting on the floor, white-faced. He was holding one wrist, looking down at a red mark that traveled up his arm. If I were a better person, perhaps I might empathize; I'd felt much the same that day in Trade Square.
The manager followed my glance. "Come," he said, and motioned for me to accompany him to Loden's side. Speaking above his head, the manager said to me, "This one is not of your House?"
"Absolutely not," I said.
"Cormallon takes no responsibility for him."
"None at all."
"Then he must pay a fine, too, for his involvement."
Fairness is not an issue here, in case you haven't gotten that point. Loden seemed oblivious to us, still staring into the other side of the mirror. The manager nudged him with one foot.
"Youngster! You owe a fine to the Courts of Heaven."
I couldn't commit Cormallon to paying for him later; that would link us publicly, and whatever Loden was involved in I didn't want it leaking over onto our House. And I had no money left, myself.
In any case, he seemed deaf. The manager squatted by his ear and shouted. "Do you hear me? You owe a fine!"
His head turned slowly. "I didn't do anything."
They'd never let him leave till he paid. I squatted down on his other side. From that proximity I could smell his cheap perfume. "Loden," I said, speaking slowly and distinctly. "Pay him, or I'll kill you."
After a moment he nodded, still slowly, and took out his money pouch. His movements were those of a hundred-year-old man.
The manager grabbed it from his hand in disgust and searched through it. He snorted. "Eight tabals." He threw the empty pouch back in Loden's lap and pocketed the money.
They left us alone then, and I peered into Loden's stricken face. I bit back the angry tone I'd been going to use and said softly, "Don't you think you should tell me about it now?"
Still staring into some blank awfulness, he started to cry.
Chapter 15
He was not in any shape to communicate on the way home. I helped him as we walked back to the house, through street after street, but I couldn't help much. I was near the end of my strength myself, and wished that I'd had money for a carriage or wagon. I kept jumping at noises, staring around to see if Jeweled Bracelet and his friends would reappear; probably it was nerves that kept me going.
When we got to the front door I had a decision to make: accept him, however temporarily, in the house, or dump him back in the parcel receipt. An ethical dilemma. Bringing him in was bringing danger officially, onto Cormallon territory; on the other hand, the boy was a mess.
I suppose the fact that Ran wasn't home that night decided me. I'd let him stay until tomorrow morning, and kick him out before Ran got back from Mira-Stoden. In arguing with a spouse, it's always easier to justify something that's already happened.
So I tucked him into a spare room with a cot, where he promptly went to sleep. It was early evening by then.
The doorbells startled me. I ran to check the spyscreen, and saw it was Kylla, carrying a bag of something from the corner cookshop. I'd forgotten she was coming this evening.
"Hello, Theo," she said, when I let her in. She dropped her bag on a table. "I've brought soup and rice and lots of sugar candies. We can stuff ourselves all night. Did you hear from Ran? How are you? Are you any better since this morning—" as she whirled and got a good look at me. "Theo, darling," she said at once. "You look terrible. What happened?"
"Oh, Ky. It's been a long day since yesterday."
"Sweetheart! Sit down. I'll do everything. I'll bring you tah and candies and you can tell me all about it." And she led me to the divan, sat me down, and fussed over me in a very satisfactory way.
She brought me soup first, insisting I put my feet up as I ate. As she went to get the other containers open, she called, "I'm going to check for any messages on the Net, all right?"
"Fine," I said. Kylla'd spent half her life in this house. I always felt a little funny when she asked for permission to use the Net.
Kylla likes her soup hot and spicy, and that's what we'd gotten. I could feel my eyes start to water as I sipped it, and the sting was comforting. I was well prepared to be catered to for the rest of the evening… though I ought to check on Loden at some point, I thought vaguely.
Kylla returned without the rest of our supper. "What is it?" I asked, seeing the look on her face.
"The steward at home says I've just gotten a written invitation for tah and cards tomorrow morning—at Eliana Porath's."
Well, that took nerve, possibly even raw courage, on Eli-ana's part.
Kylla looked at me. "Did you hear what I said? It's an invitation to Eliana Porath's!"
"I heard. You don't have to go, Kylla."
"The hell I don't. If that little pasty-cake has something on her mind, I want to know what it is. What do you think I should wear?"
I started to chuckle.
"This isn't funny, Theo!"
"No, of course not. Uh, your mint robe is very nice."
We talked clothes for about half an hour, while the food got cold, and shortly thereafter the bells sounded again and the Poraths' messenger appeared at our doorstep. She was a girl of nine or ten, with a set of robes in three shades of red. She bowed and offered Kylla a small sky-blue envelope. Kylla then vanished into the downstairs office to compose her reply, and I offered the girl sugar candies. I ate one first, as etiquette required, then gave her three extra to put in her pocket and take home.
When she'd left with the acceptance and the candies, Kylla came and sat next to me on the divan. "Want to finish our supper?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
I was starved to the marrow, so I opened a container of rice and steermod beef. The smell filled the room, and Kylla started to pick at it. "I'm sorry!" she said suddenly, putting down her fork. "You were going to tell me what happened today."
"It's a long story—" I began.
She frowned. "Do you really think the mint robe is all right? It's got a shawl collar."
"It's beautiful, and it suits you."
She looked at me, blushed, and we both started to laugh. I patted her hand. "It's all right, it's an obsession. I understand."
She fussed with the supper bowls, and her eyes fell on a copy of the Capital News. The delivery people hadn't wanted to trouble to send them on to Kylla's house, so when they found they couldn't get the slot open they'd been dropping them outside the parcel receipt. For the last few days Loden had been stepping blindly through them, scattering them in the gutter. This morning he'd actually thought to leave them in a pile by our door.
"I didn't know you got Court Follies," she said. Court Follies is a scurrilous, politically oriented sheet, less acceptably illegal than the Capital News.
"I don't," I said, looking at the address on front. "The neighbors on our left do."
"How did you get it?"
"Loden, the idiot." I spoke from the heart, without thinking.
Of course, Kylla wanted an explanation. It was a long one. Finally she turned to me, eyes shining. "You've been letting that gorgeous security guard stay with you?"
"Trust me," I said. "It's an overrated experience."
When I got up in the morning I made the same call I'd made before I went to bed the previous nig
ht: to the Inner Courts of Heaven. The healer they called Kat didn't have Net access. Both times the manager sent someone across the street, and both times he gave me the same answer: Sim was alive, and his recovery looked promising. "We'll notify you at once of any change," the manager said. "But Kat keeps saying he should be all right. The exposure wasn't long enough for permanent damage."
I thanked him and cut the connection. As far as I was concerned, Sim could have all the cherry jam he wanted, as long as he came back in one piece. Another message appeared on the Net just as I was getting up: from the Porath code, the Net said.
The Poraths again? Why would they call me?
I accepted it and found Eliana Porath's face looking out of my wall. Inexperienced at Net customs, she blatantly used the visual circuit. "Lady Theodora," she said, "I'm so glad you're home.
"Uh, lady Eliana. Nice to see you again."
"I have a favor to ask."
"Oh?"
"I've got, ah, a bit of a problem. My father seems to have asked your sister-in-law to join us today for a tah and card party. I only found out this morning, and we're racing to get everything ready."
"Oh."
"Yes. Well, this is very awkward… at this late hour it will seem too much like an afterthought… but would you consider attending as well?"
"Me? I don't really know any card games."
"That's fine," she said, with fervent eagerness. "It doesn't matter. It's just that, you see, right now Kylla is the only guest, and even with Auntie Jace or Leel to make up the table, it really wouldn't be much of a game. You see my point?"
"I do indeed." There's safety in numbers. Eliana Porath was no fool.
"I would truly be most grateful if you'd come. And it will only be for a couple of hours. We can have a nice meal afterward, in the garden—our cook is a wonder—"
"It's all right, Eliana, I'll come."
"You will?" She let out her breath in relief. "Thank you so much. It's at the sixth hour, and I'll tell the gate to expect you. I'd better run now and see if we can get the table… thank you." And she was gone.
Well, chance in all forms was clearly to be my lot. Raucous machine-play and tithball yesterday, and genteel gambling with tah-and-cards this morning. I was about to sign off when it occurred to me, belatedly, to check for any messages.
There were two, both dated yesterday afternoon: one from Ran, the other from Stereth. I accepted them both.
Should arrive home by noon tomorrow. Hope you're feeling better. Where are you?
Ran
Your market sorcerer named Moros isn't named Moros. He used to be Bril Savin, but the Savins disowned him. He had a hut outside the city, on the west bank of the river. I hope this knowledge provides more certainty in your life.
Stereth Tar'krim
The one from Ran was characteristic. I would hear about that "where are you" when he returned. And good old Stereth and his provisions for certainty in my life. I wouldn't count on it, old friend. His message was intriguing, as messages from Stereth so often are. Presumably the hut was abandoned when Moros died. No mention of any wives or children… disowned persons rarely find mates. It had been days since his death, and there was no reason to believe anybody would be there now, even assuming they knew where he lived. No harm in poking around a bit… Damn. I'd have to do it before Ran got home. He'd be quite capable of calling up three more cousins from out of town to keep me within the city walls till I lost interest.
I told myself there was no reason to follow up Stereth's information, except curiosity, powerful in itself, and a desire to get Loden out of trouble and out of our lives. Speaking of out of our lives— I woke the boy up, fed him, and told him I was throwing him out before my husband got home. He accepted the phrase as though it were one he'd heard before.
"I want to see you later today, though," I told him. "So start working on your story now." He nodded, looking sheepish. At least he didn't seem to be as harrowed as he'd been last night. "I mean it, Loden. The carriage stops here."
"I know," he said. He went off down the front steps and into, I thought, the gods knew what further trouble.
Good heavens! I hope Ran didn't feel that way about me.
It was nearly the fifth hour. I ran upstairs and awakened Kylla, where she lay sprawled over the bed in my room. She had her family's way of taking all the mattress space. "Ky, you've got to get up. We'll be late. Ky!"
She squinted at me blearily. "What time is it?"
"An hour till Eliana's party."
"Oh, gods, no." She let her chin fall back on the pillow. "It can't possibly be. I've barely slept!"
"You've been out since the reign of the last emperor— out like a light, I might add. I figured you'd want the time to paint over any circles under your eyes, before you see Eiana."
This call to war got her attention. "Ohhh… why, why, did you let me drink that whole bottle of Ducort?"
"You insisted, Ky. You told me you could handle it."
She dragged herself out of bed, moaning as she did. "Can't you see how I'm suffering? At least you could take the blame."
"Yes, Ky. I'm sorry I forced you to drink all that wine last night."
"That's better." She tottered to the bath and locked the door. I went to get ready myself, knowing she'd be at least half an hour.
I changed into one of my best robes, thought about it, and took the jade and caneblood necklace Ran had given me last Ghost Eve from its box underneath the bed. This was a social call, after all. I'd check with Kylla on whether it was too dressy for daytime, but with discreet earrings it might work.
I took it out of the box, remembering that Ghost Eve. I looked into the mirror as I held it up, and saw my eyes had gotten visibly misty. "You should be taken in hand, girl," I said to the reflection there. Then I went to the upstairs office and left a Net message for Ran, telling him I'd probably be having lunch at the Poraths' when he got back, and pointing him toward Stereth's message for what I intended to do after. Manipulation works two ways, you know. At least I'd have companionship in ransacking the hut, since I had no doubt at all Ran would show up there to make his displeasure known.
I was reassured to see the silver arc in the Poraths' garden. The last time I'd seen this garden was two nights ago in my card-driven hallucination, and my statue had bled rivers where the arc now gleamed with such a reassuring lack of organic properties. Ran was right, I thought uncomfortably, that had been my own fault; mixing up the stories of Kade and the Poraths and my worries about the Cormal-lon council, leaving open-ended questions floating around in my head. Keep that up, Theodora, and you'll be almost as good with magic as the late Moros was. The Poraths' house loomed ahead of us, full of family, servants, cats, and lizard; not at all empty or abandoned. Do you good, I told myself, to spend a little time with quiet, respectable people, after the excitement of yesterday. Folks here may get murdered, by the gods, but they're always courteous.
Kylla and I were heading for the central porch, wearing our finest—including the caneblood necklace, by the way— when the tall jinevra bushes around the blue pool rustled.
A head looked out at us. "Hello, Theodora."
"Coalis! What in the world are you doing in there?"
"Ah, excuse me for not stepping out. I just wanted to mention, I was out on business with Stereth last night, and he asked me to let you know he's left a Net message for you."
"I know," I said, puzzled.
"Well, when I told him you might be visiting today— since your sister-in-law was coming—he said to tell you it's about your market sorcerer. He said he thinks you sometimes don't read his messages."
"It's kind of you to pass this on, Coalis. May I ask what you're doing in the jinevra bushes?"
Shouts came from the direction of the house. Coalis winced. "Please let this matter by," he said.
The shouts were louder now. It was Jusik's voice. The front door was flung open and Lord Porath emerged, in white-hot temper, hands in fists. You could practica
lly see his veins throb from here. "Where is he?" he cried. "He's still in the compound, don't tell me he's not! The gatekeeper didn't pass him out!" He strode down the steps,
followed by Leel Canerol, Auntie Jace, Eliana, the steward, and three others I didn't recognize. They poured through the door and over the porch after him, like a scared litter of kittens.
Coalis' voice came urgently from somewhere below my ear: "Move away from the bushes!"
Jusik was stalking across the garden. I looked at him, looked back at the bushes, and then hastily stepped away.
Too late. I'd drawn his attention, and there must have been some movement behind the leaves. "There! Don't move, you fool, you disgrace, or I swear I'll beat your organs out of your skin! Don't you dare move!"
He was at the bushes in twenty strides, and yanking Coalis out by the arm. There wasn't really room between the thin branches of jinevra for him to exit on this side, but Jusik paid no attention to that. The recently created First Son of Porath emerged branchwhipped and scratched.
He at once threw himself into the dirt at his father's feet, the way they tell me the Six Families do when they need to impress the emperor with their sincerity.
"You vermin!" yelled Jusik. "You river toad! Disappointment of all our hopes! Get up!"
Coalis scrambled immediately to his feet, still saying nothing.
"Out all night! Drinking and gambling, I have no doubt! But what do you care? Why should it matter to you if the House of Porath depends on you? Do you think being first son confers the right of pissing away your time and money?" He paused for half a second, as though waiting for Coalis to convict himself further, but no one spoke. The other members of the household had gathered around in a half-circle, with identical appalled looks on their faces. "If only you were more like your brother! I wish to heaven it were you in the canal, and not him! Do you think anybody would have missed you?"
Coalis continued to stare at the ground. "Enough!" yelled his father. "Against that tree! Now!"
Coalis walked to the tree where Ran had once stood and waited for me to finish with Stereth. He placed the palms of his hands against it. I now saw that a leather strap dangled from one of Jusik's tightly clenched fists.
