by Sharon Lee
However, if Etgora wished to secure its teetering position as a high-tier Mid House, they must show a smooth face to adversity. Of course they would place Korval upon the most-honored guest list. They could not do otherwise and survive.
By the same logic of survival, Etgora would take utmost care that no slight or insult befell Korval while she was in their care.
Which meant that Daav, chancy tempered as he knew himself to be, might safely leave his hideaway in its custom-fitted box.
And yet . . . .
"Might," he murmured, slipping the little gun into his sleeve, "is not ought."
He glanced to the mirror, smoothed the sleeve, twitched the lace at his throat, touched the sapphire in his right ear and made an ironic bow. His reflection—black-browed, lean and over-long—returned the salutation gracefully.
"Do try not to kill anyone tonight, Daav," he told himself. "Murder would only make the evening more tedious."
* * *
THEY WERE ADMITTED to Etgora's townhouse and relieved of their cloaks by a supernaturally efficient servant, who then bowed them into the care of a child of the House.
She had perhaps twelve Standards, hovering between child and halfling, and holding herself just a bit stiffly in her fine doorkeeper's silks.
"Kesa del'Fordan Clan Etgora," she said, bowing prettily in the mode of Child of the House to Honored Guests. She straightened, brown eyes solemn with duty, and waited for them to respond, according to Code and custom.
"Chi yos'Phelium," his mother murmured, bowing as Guest to House Child, "Korval."
The brown eyes widened slightly, but give her grace, Daav thought; she did not make the error of looking down to see Korval's ring of rank for herself. Instead, she inclined her head, with composure commendable in one of twice her years, and looked to Daav.
He likewise bowed, Guest to House Child, and straightened without flourish.
"Daav yos'Phelium Clan Korval."
Kesa inclined her head once more and completed the form.
"Ma'am and sir, be welcome in our house." She paused, perhaps a heartbeat too long, then bowed. "If you would care to walk with me, I will bring you to my father."
"Of your kindness," his mother murmured and followed the child out of the welcoming parlor, Daav walking at the rear, as befit one of lesser rank who was likewise his Delm's sole protection in a House not their own.
Kesa led them down a short, left-tending hallway, through an open gateway of carved sweetstone and out into an enclosed garden, and the full force of the evening gather.
Etgora, Daav observed, as he followed his mother and their guide down cunning, crowded walkways, was a Clan which addressed its projects with energy. Challenged to display a clean face to the world, it did not hesitate to bring the world together immediately for the purpose.
A more conservative Clan, Daav thought, his quick, Scout-trained eyes catching glimpses of an astonishing number of High Houselings among the crowd, would have invited Korval, of course, to this first gather since its failure, and perhaps one or two others of the High Houses, at most. Not so Etgora, who seemed to have formed the guest list almost entirely from the Fifty, with a few taken from the ranks of the higher Mid-Level Houses, for the purpose, Daav supposed, of filling out odd numbers.
Progress along the pathways was slow, what with so many acquaintances who must be acknowledged with a bow. Both Daav and his mother several times had to duck under gay strings of rainbow-colored streamers and the imported oddity of Terran-made balloons.
At long last, they achieved the center of the garden, where a man slightly younger and a good deal less elegant than his mother was speaking with apparent ease to no other than Lady yo'Lanna. Daav owned himself impressed. Lady yo'Lanna was his mother's oldest friend among her peers in the High Houses, and he held her in quite as much awe now as he had at six.
"Father," Kesa bent deeply, the full bow of clanmember to Delm, and straightened self-consciously, shoulders stiff beneath her finery.
"Your pardon, good ma'am," the gentleman murmured, and, receiving Lady yo'Lanna's half-bow of permission, turned to face them.
"Kesa, my child. Who have you brought me?"
"Father, here is Chi yos'Phelium, Korval, and Daav yos'Phelium Clan Korval," the child said in the very proper mode of Introduction. She turned and bowed, House-Child to Guests. "Honoreds, here is my father, Hin Ber del'Fordan, Etgora."
So Kesa's father was Etgora Himself. It explained much, Daav thought, from the unexpected youth of the door guardian to her stiff determination to observe every mode precisely.
"Korval, you do me honor!" Etgora swept the bow between equals—theoretically true, between Delms, Daav thought wryly—and augmented it with the trader's hand-sign for "master," a nice touch, drawing on the common trading background of both Houses while publically acknowledging Korval's superiority.
His mother, Daav saw, was inclined to be amused by their host's little audacity. She bowed just short of full Equal, accepting the master status Etgora acknowledged.
"To be welcome in the house of an ally is joy," she said clearly into the sudden nearby silence. She straightened and extended a hand to touch Daav's sleeve.
"One's son, Etgora."
"Lord yos'Phelium." The bow this time was Delm to Child of an Ally's House: High Mode, indeed, but carried well, and necessitating, alas, the rather tricksy Child of a Delm to an Ally as the most precise response. He straightened in time to see his mother incline her head to Lady yo'Lanna.
"Ilthiria, I find you well?"
"As well as one can be in this crush. Etgora is proud of his achievement—and justly so!—but you and I know how to value an empty garden."
Had he been less well-trained, Daav would have winced in sympathy for Kesa's father. Lady yo'Lanna, it seemed, was not entirely at one with her host.
The pale eyes moved, pinning him. "Young Daav, newly at leave from the Scouts."
He bowed, lightly. "I have no secrets from you, ma'am."
"Do you not?" Her eyebrows rose. "Then come to me tomorrow and whisper in my ear the tale of how a certain mutual acquaintance came to break his arm in mid-Port evening before last."
Damn. He bowed again, aware of his mother's gaze on the side of his suddenly warm face.
"If that is your wish, then how can I deny you?"
"Very properly said," Etgora interjected. "And who better to know Port gossip than a Scout, who are said to have ears in every cranny?" He turned, spied his daughter, yet standing stiffly to one side.
"Kesa, my jewel. Lord yos'Phelium will wish to reacquaint himself with his age-mates, as he is just returned from the Scouts. Pray show him to the Sunset Garden—and then you may refresh yourself."
He turned to Daav.
"Card tables have been set out, sir, and other light amusements. Please, be easy in our House."
He flicked a glance at his mother, who inclined her head.
"Amuse yourself, Daav, do. Etgora will wish to walk Ilthiria and myself through his garden. I will require your arm in two hours."
"Ma'am." He bowed obedience to the Delm, then a general leave-taking to Lady yo'Lanna and Etgora. This done, he bowed once more, very gently, and offered his arm to Kesa del'Fordan, "Lady Kesa, will you walk with me?"
She hesitated fractionally, brown eyes lifting to his face in a child's straight look of assessment. Whatever she saw convinced her that he was not having fun at her expense, for she stepped forward and put her hand lightly on his sleeve.
"Certainly, I will walk with you,"she said, unselfconsciously. "How else may I show you to the Sunset Garden?"
"Very true," Daav replied gravely. From the edge of his eye, he saw Etgora offer an arm and his mother take it. "In which direction shall we walk, then, Lady?"
"This,"she said, moving a hand to the west, belatedly adding, "Of your goodness."
The pathways toward sunset were somewhat less crowded than those they had followed from the house. That was not to say, Daav thought, that
the paths were empty or that the garden reposed in tranquility.
He bowed briefly to Lady pel'Nyan and moved on, Kesa del'Fordan silent on his arm. Etgora, he considered, had come a fair way to making a recover. Lady yo'Lanna's attendance had of course assured the attendance of several other Houses of rank. And if she were inclined to smile upon Etgora . . .
Or, Daav thought suddenly, if Ilthiria yo'Lanna attended at the request of her old friend Chi yos'Phelium, Delm of the ancient ally of her House? Oh, yes, that fit well. Especially when one heard one's mother declaring herself comforted in the presence of an ally. Korval had never taken allies easily, to the benefit, mostwise, of the more conservative Clans.
Daav made a mental note to review the Summary of Balance dea'Gauss had sent more closely. He had missed the reason that Etgora was thought necessary to the interests of Korval. Presumption had, of course, been answered, but it seemed that the upstart Clan could not be allowed entirely to sink. Thus, this gather, with its theme of courteous and charming commonsense, and everyone of consequence in attendance.
In consideration of which, Daav said to himself, you are in arrears of your duty.
He tipped his head, assessing his companion from beneath his lashes. She looked pale, he thought, and her jaw was definitely clenched too tightly for fashion. Her shoulders moved like boards beneath the pretty silk tunic and the hand that rested against his sleeve put no pressure on his arm at all.
He cleared his throat gently and smiled when she looked up, startled.
"I hope you will allow me to commend your performance as House Guard," he murmured. "I am persuaded that you stand the duty often."
Kesa blushed, lashes flickering. "Not," she said, somewhat faintly, "so very often." She paused, glancing aside, then looked back to his face.
"In fact," she said, rather breathlessly, "this evening is the first time I have stood between the House and the world. It is—it has been my brother's duty, you know—he is the elder—but, this evening, he . . . He asked our father for other work."
"Very proper in him," Daav murmured, noting her hesitation and drawing the conclusion that Kesa's brother's "ask" had very little of "if-you-please" about it. "So this was your first time a House Guard? I am all admiration. Well I remember my first time at the door—a mere dinner party, nothing like what we have here!—and I was wishing for nothing but my bed before even half the guests were arrived!"
She actually laughed, and Daav ducked as they passed beneath a string of balloons and streamers.
Kesa paused, frowning up at him and the balloons just behind his head.
"I do not—you are very tall, are you not? I recall my father said that Korval is a tall Clan. He—Jen Dal was to have made certain the lines were strung well above—but I am certain." she said in a sudden rush, "that he could not have realized that, that—"
"That the pickpocket who wishes to rob Korval must bring his own stepladder," Daav said lightly, rescuing her from what could only be an unfortunate culmination of her sentence.
Kesa frowned. "I do not entirely—"
"Ah, Daav! I had heard the Scouts had released you to us!"
The voice was lovely, as was the lady. Two years ago, he had been besotted with both. He was no longer besotted, but he was indebted to her for a lesson well-delivered and equally well-learned, and so he bowed, with courtesy.
"Bobrin, good evening to you."
She returned his bow, eyes teasing his face, then straightened, one hand rising to her flower-braided hair. Her eyes left his face, and found Kesa.
"It is Etgora's daughter, is it not?"
Kesa bowed low—Child of the House to Honored Guest. "Kesa del'Fordan, Lady del'Pemridj."
"Just so." Bobrin inclined her beflowered head, then shot Daav a glance of pure mischief. "Take advice and walk carefully with this one, House-daughter. Daav—" She paused, likely on the edge of more specific mischief. Daav met her eye squarely, and had the satisfaction of seeing her look aside.
"Daav," she said, "Good evening."
She swept down the path and Daav became aware that he was gritting his teeth. Deliberately, he relaxed his jaw and looked down at his companion.
Kesa was staring after Bobrin, brown eyes wide. After a moment, she sighed and glanced up at Daav.
"She is a very beautiful lady. I—do you think when I am grown I might wear flowers in my hair?"
When you are grown, Daav thought, my hope is that you will care more for other matters—even for what I deduce is your scapegrace brother—than for the dressing of your hair.
Her look, however, was appealing—and she was, after all, a child—so he swallowed his initial answer and instead looked about with wide amaze, flinging his arm out.
"Why, here we are in the very heart of a garden! What is to prevent you from having flowers in your hair this instant, if you wish it?"
"I—" She, too, stared about, as if she just now realized their setting, then looked back to his face.
"No one, that is, I have yet to learn the—the proper manner in which to place flowers in the hair."
"Ah, there you are fortunate," Daav said gaily. "I have some training in the placement of hair-ornaments. Perhaps you will allow me to be of service to you."
The brown eyes took fire. "Would you? I—I would be in your debt."
"Not a bit of it." Daav said stoutly. "It is a pleasure to share my skill. Now, which flowers will you have?"
She moved to the edge of the walk, staring at the orderly rows of blossom. "That, if you please," she said, pointing to a low, spike-leafed shrub. Its indigo blooms were flat and multi-petalled, noteworthy without being ostentatious, and a good match for the silk Doorkeeper's tunic.
"Excellent," Daav murmured approvingly and bent to pluck one. The stem was woody, but broke easily. "Yes, very good. Now, my Lady, if you will step over here, so that we do not impede traffic while this very delicate operation is performed . . ."
Kesa stepped to his side, Daav inclined his head to Lord Andresi—another of his mother's cronies—who smiled and passed on without comment.
"Now, then," Daav said. "I will wish you to stand very tall, but not at all stiffly. True beauty is never ill at ease. Very good. A moment, now, while I discover the perfect placement—yes, I believe so." He hesitated, flower poised. "Be easy, Lady Kesa, but as still as you may—"
He moved, Scout-quick, smoothing her thick brown hair with one hand while he slid the flower home just above her right ear.
"Let us be certain that it is well-anchored," Daav said, hands hovering. "Move your head now—look up at me. Ah—"
"Stand away from my sister!"
The voice was, of course, too loud. Had the phrase been whispered it would have been too loud, at this gather. Daav sighed and glanced up.
The young man bearing down on them had something of Etgora's look to him, albeit Etgora in an ugly pet. He had, Daav judged, about twenty Standard years.
"Calm yourself, sir," Daav said moderately. "I am doing your sister no harm."
"I will be the judge of that, sir!" the other snapped. "As kinsman, I—"
"Jen Dal, be still!" Kesa flung about—the flower stayed firmly in place, Daav saw with pleasure. "There's nothing amiss." She swallowed and glanced back to Daav. "Lord yos'Phelium, here is my brother Jen Dal del'Fordan. Jen Dal, here is Daav yos'Phelium Clan—"
"I know who he is," Jen Dal said awfully. "Sir, you have not yet put yourself at a decent distance from my sister." Kesa made a sound rather like a splutter, which Daav interpreted as outrage. Her brother spared her a single withering glance.
"Be still, Kesa. This is a matter of honor."
"If it's a matter of my honor," Kesa said, with spirit, "then I should judge the damage and the price, not you."
"Completely by Code," Daav said, uneasily aware that they were attracting a crowd.
The young gentleman stared at him, eyes hard with hatred. So, thought Daav, the balloons were not strung so low by accident. Here's one who has taken Etg
ora's fall as a blow to his heart, and cannot see 'round his anger to the greater good of the House.
"My sister is a child, sir. It is as ludicrous to expect her to know proper Code as it is to expect her to know all the faces of harm."
Daav drew a breath, trying to still the quick flare of anger. For Kesa's sake, for the sake of Etgora's value to Korval, he would not lose his temper. He would quell this self-important upstart and dismiss him, then disperse the growing crowd of the curious. He was Chi yos'Phelium's son. These things were not beyond him.
"Sir, your concern for your kin does you credit. However, I feel that you have allowed an elder sibling's natural partiality—"
Jen Dal del'Fordan turned his face away.
"Kesa," he said, as if Daav had finished speaking—no, as if Daav had never begun to speak!—"pray remove yourself from the proximity of this—person."
Tears filled the brown eyes. "Jen Dal, he is our guest! I am quite unharmed, Lord yos'Phelium was only placing a flower in my hair, as I asked him to do!" There was a ripple through those gathered at that, but Jen Dal was unmoved.
"This man is son of a House with a long history of predation among the lesser Houses. I will not see him attack my kin. He will—"
Oh, gods,Daav thought, suddenly seeing the destination of the farce. You fool! He leaned forward and touched Kesa lightly on the sleeve.
"Lady, your brother is correct. You cannot stay this."
For a heartbeat, the brown eyes searched his face, then she stepped back, bowed fully—House Child to Honored Guest—and turned. She walked away as sedately as one with years of negotiation behind her, and the crowd parted to let her through.
"You, sir," Jen Dal del'Fordan cried, "will satisfy the honor of my House!"
"Don't be absurd," Daav said, voice stringently calm, despite the anger trembling within. "The honor of your House is intact, as you well know."
"I know nothing of the sort. Korval destroys Clans as casually as I pluck a flower." The last was said with a sneer and Daav caught his breath at the sheer, blinding stupidity of the man. Did he not know that even now Korval and Etgora were mending the damage given his Clan? Did he not know that with Korval's patronage and the smiles of the High Houses, Etgora would recover its loss and reap new profits before Kesa signed her first Contract lines?
