Chapter Twenty-two
Francesca met Ran-Del’s flyter when it set down in the complex. She looked well, although Ran-Del detected a hard edge to her smile. She waited for Ran-Del to approach her, not offering an embrace until he put his arms around her, and then she almost melted against him in relief.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Ran-Del said, reveling in the warmth of her affection. “Thank you for meeting me. I know you’re busy.”
She smiled impishly. “I took the afternoon off. Poor Antonio is still trying to reschedule a meeting.”
“Good.” Ran-Del slung his pack over his shoulder and took her hand. “You can help me unpack.”
They almost didn’t make it into the bedroom. As soon as the sitting room door closed behind them, Ran-Del dropped his pack and pulled Francesca close for a kiss. Her response engulfed Ran-Del in a sea of passion. He ripped her shirt open and pulled it off of her so swiftly that Francesca radiated alarm.
“Wait!” She pulled away from him. “There’s something I need to tell you first.”
Ran-Del followed her across the room as if he were drawn by invisible ropes. “What is it?” He caught up to her as she slipped through the bedroom door.
“It’s important—” she started to say, and then she stopped as he kissed her again.
Ran-Del made it last. The feeling of arousal was delightfully tantalizing; he could feel Francesca’s anticipation as well as his own. The Sixth Discipline gave him enough control to keep the intensity pleasurable.
Ran-Del let Francesca’s surface thoughts float toward him. She had taken steps to allow her to conceive. She needed an heir, and wanted a child. He stroked her neck as he ended the kiss, letting his hand drift down her body until he found the fastening for her trousers. “Don’t fret, Francesca. I know, and I want a child, too.”
She relaxed in his arms. “I missed you. You were gone a long time.”
Too busy removing what remained of her clothing, Ran-Del didn’t answer. Francesca gave a small sigh of pure pleasure and quit trying to make conversation.
They spent the afternoon catching up on each other’s news. Ran-Del heard the details of Preston’s visit; he didn’t tell Francesca that Merced had already told him one side of it.
The news about the Leongs was really news. Francesca was quite pleased with herself. “I found out why Hans Leong was pushing so hard on the mine deal.”
“Why?” Ran-Del could see a hint of the answer bubbling to the surface of her thoughts, but he resisted the temptation to learn the rest of it that way.
“He was trying to pull a fast one on his mother. Elena knew nothing about his offer to cut the cost of ore in return for a larger surplus. Hans wanted to have the deal all set up and then present it to her as an example of his astuteness. At least that’s the story Elena is telling. I have a feeling that what she really found out was that some of the cost savings would have gone straight into Hans’ private account.”
“You mean he was trying to steal from his own mother?”
“Worse,” Francesca said. “He was trying to steal from the cartel. Hans is lucky Elena caught him before he pulled it off.” She chuckled to herself. “I’ll be interested to see if he’s the same cocky bastard at the party tomorrow night—always assuming Elena lets him go.”
“Are you going to a party?”
“We’re going to a party,” Francesca said. “The Wahs are throwing a celebration because Old Lady Wah is a hundred seasons old tomorrow.”
Ran-Del swallowed a protest. No matter how much he detested Shangri-La’s social scene, kinship was an obligation he understood—even kinship with an evil old woman with no manners.
Francesca expressed her condolences on hearing about the death of Ran-Del’s great-grandfather, and shock at the details of Ran-Del’s Ordeal.
They were lying naked in bed with Francesca nestled in the curve of Ran-Del’s right arm. She reached over and touched his caste bracelet. “So you took off a black bead because your great-grandfather died, but they gave you three more glass beads?”
Ran-Del nodded. “I was surprised they let me keep the warrior bead. I knew Great-grandfather didn’t wear one, so I assumed they’d taken it away after his second Ordeal.”
Francesca gave him a blank look. “I thought a shaman wasn’t allowed to be a warrior?”
“They’re not,” Ran-Del said. “Don’t you know about great-grandfather? I assumed someone must have told you his story—Grandmother, maybe?”
“No one told me anything. Pop said something once, about your great-grandfather having seen his share of suffering, but that was all.”
Ran-Del was intrigued. “I wonder who told him about it.”
Francesca made a gesture as if to brush the question aside. “I don’t know. Anyway, tell me what happened to your great-grandfather.”
Ran-Del shifted his position to get comfortable, pulled her close against him and began his tale. “When Great-grandfather was a boy, he wanted to be a warrior, like his father. But as he matured, his psy sense got stronger and stronger. At first he tried to fight it completely, and then he tried to limit it, and then, finally, Great-grandfather hid it from everyone.”
“Like you did with me?” Francesca said.
He grinned. “In a way. But Great-grandfather’s talent dwarfed mine. He not only masked his abilities, he managed to learn the Sixth Discipline from those around him without their ever knowing it. When the time came for his Ordeal, Great-grandfather let his inquisitors think he had let down his barriers—to them it seemed that he had—when in fact, he was more in control of the Ordeal than they were.
“In the end, Great-grandfather was awarded only three beads. With three beads, you’re not a person of power, and you can be a warrior, or anything else you wish—except, of course, a shaman.
“So Great-grandfather became a warrior and was happy in his choice.
“And then he met a woman named Iris, and loved her almost as soon as he saw her. They married and had two children, a boy and a girl, and then when Iris was carrying a third child, tragedy struck.”
He looked down at Francesca, wondering how much detail he needed to give so that she would understand. “When the Horde attacks, if they manage to take a village unawares, they steal people—young women and children. When an adult is taken, we know there’s a good chance she’ll use the Fifth Discipline, but children don’t know how to do that yet. We think that’s why they’re taken most often—that, and because they can be changed more easily.”
“Changed?”
“Yes, changed from Sansoussy into the Horde. A few older ones escaped, so we know that children who are stolen are raised to be members of the Horde. And because of this, there are some among the Horde who have psy powers. They may not know as much as we do about how to use them, but the talent is there.”
Francesca stared, her eyes wide in fascination.
“When a Sansoussy child is stolen in this way,” Ran-Del went on, “we mourn him as dead. We hold a memorial and ever after speak of that child as if he or she had died.
“Anyway, Great-grandfather had felt his psy powers growing even stronger as he grew older, but he had said nothing about it. And then one day, he knew that an attack was coming soon. He was relieved when Han-Ri, the shaman, told the villagers to prepare. They sent runners to warn the other villages nearby, and the warriors laid an ambush while the rest of the village went into hiding.
“When you prepare an ambush, it’s always in the night, because the Horde attacks at dawn. Some of the warriors light fires in the houses, so there’ll be smoke, and then they hide inside. The remaining warriors climb into the branches of trees, ready to drop down on attackers. Great-grandfather waited, with all the others, feeling the attack growing nearer and nearer.
“And then eventually, he had a vision, as he crouched in the darkness, of the old men and women and children being attacked as they hid in a stand of bamboo fern. He went to the comman
der of the warriors, and told him what he had seen.
“Great-grandfather’s pleading persuaded the man to send almost half the warriors to see if it was a true vision. It was.
“The Horde had sent a small force in this secondary attack, and Great-grandfather and the others were able to drive them back. But before they succeeded, Iris was killed trying to fight off a man who was attempting to take her son. The boy leapt forward and snatched up his mother’s knife, so the raider killed him, too. Then he grabbed Iris’ little girl and retreated with the others of the Horde.”
Francesca’s eyes widened in alarm, and Ran-Del felt her sympathy.
“Great-grandfather wept for days,” Ran-Del went on to finish his story. “He confessed how he had hidden his talent. The elders argued what to do with him but realized no one could punish him more than he had been already. After his true Ordeal, they awarded him six beads. Then, a year later, Han-Ri told Great-grandfather it was his duty to marry again. When Great-grandfather refused to do it, Han-Ri inflicted punishment upon him—that’s how Great-grandfather’s arm was burned so badly—and finally, Great-grandfather submitted.”
“Just as you did?” Francesca interrupted.
Ran-Del nodded. “Except that I hadn’t loved someone else. Great-grandfather's heart was cold toward his new wife. By the time that Great-grandfather came to love Johanna and my grandfather, it was too late for Johanna to have more children.”
Francesca frowned as if she found the story unsatisfactory. “What happened to the little girl who was taken?”
Ran-Del shook his head. “She was only three seasons old, much too young to have escaped. The villagers mourned her as dead.”
“But,” Francesca objected, “for all you know, you have a great-aunt living among the Horde.”
“No,” Ran-Del said. “Even if she’s still alive, she’s no longer a Sansoussy, and she’s no kin of mine.”
Francesca changed the subject. “You never mentioned what the Sansoussy use for birth control.”
Ran-Del wasn’t clear on the term. “Are you asking how we keep a woman from conceiving?”
Francesca nodded. “I can’t believe Sansoussy women have a baby every season or the forest would be overrun with Sansoussy by now.”
Ran-Del chuckled at this image. “Women who have enough psy sense can control their own bodies using a special Woman’s Discipline. Those who don’t ask another woman to help them. If a woman ends a betrothal, the shaman or an elder always makes sure she isn’t with child.” He looked down at Francesca’s face, studying her intently. “When did you decide you wanted to have a child, sweetheart?”
He could feel her satisfaction at his use of this endearment.
“About a week after you left.” She gave him a tentative smile. “You were gone a long time.”
“I know,” Ran-Del said, keeping a straight face. “I really missed being able to take a hot shower.”
She rolled away from him and turned her back, sulking.
Ran-Del kissed her shoulder. “And I missed you, too. Come and enjoy the shower with me.”
Francesca allowed herself to be persuaded, and Ran-Del took the longest shower he had ever taken since he first woke up in the Hayden complex.
It wasn’t until midmorning of the next day that Ran-Del decided to go to Benjie’s. He had a theory, and he wanted very much to test it.
Francesca was back at work, and he called her and told her that he was going out. She was pleasant but abstracted as she answered him over the com.
The two security staff waiting for him at the gate were Fiona Geldorf, and a man named Brewster whom Ran-Del knew only slightly but Geldorf seemed to know well. Ran-Del ignored their banter and set out for the river. He let himself travel at a real Sansoussy pace, running the entire way without stopping once.
He didn’t see Janis when he came in the door. Francis was serving drinks to a trio of men at the bar, workers from another warehouse.
The crew from Georges’ place were at their usual table, just finishing lunch. They called out Ran-Del’s name when they saw him, making Geldorf frown.
“Ho, wild man!” Georges cried. “You’re back!”
“Hello, Georges,” Ran-Del said, crossing to their table.
He pulled up a chair and sat down at the end of the table. Geldorf and Brewster also found chairs and sat on either side of him.
“You have a new watchdog, Ran-Del,” Thelma said teasingly. “What’s this one’s name?”
Ran-Del introduced Brewster, who looked taken aback at the informality. Geldorf merely winked at Guillermo, who was eying her appreciatively.
“Welcome back to civilization, Ran-Del,” Georges said.
Ran-Del smiled. “Actually, I’ve just come from there, Georges.”
The warehouse owner roared with laughter and slapped Ran-Del on the back heartily. “Oh, ho, tweaking me back, are you? It’s a good thing you don’t work for me anymore.”
“How is everything at Rangoon Storage Systems?” Ran-Del asked.
“We missed you this morning,” Jena said. “We were trying to get a transport loaded when that damn number six lifter stuck again, right in the middle of the aisle. Guillermo almost fell off another lifter trying to get it reset.”
“You should get rid of that machine, Georges,” Ran-Del said. “It’s broken more than it works.”
Georges agreed solemnly. Jena asked how Ran-Del was feeling, and everyone expressed satisfaction at how well he had healed.
Ran-Del was aware of Janis behind him before he turned around and saw her approaching.
“Hello, Ran-Del,” she said warmly. “Welcome back. Like some tea, on the house?”
Ran-Del answered affirmatively. His escort declined, as always. Janis took other orders and cleared a half dozen glasses and plates from the table. She had just started to the kitchen with the tray when Ran-Del sent a delicate, tentative mental inquiry in her direction, almost a tap on the shoulder with his psy sense.
Janis dropped the tray.
One of the glasses hit the back of an empty chair and smashed into pieces. Several people jumped up to help Janis clean the mess, Ran-Del among them.
Janis was red-faced as she piled bottles and crockery onto the tray. “Sorry,” she muttered.
Ran-Del carefully collected several pieces of broken glass in his hands.
“Put those on the tray,” Janis said, holding it out to him.
“There’s too much there already. I’ll just put it straight into the recycler for you. Where is it?”
“In the kitchen,” Janis said.
Ran-Del followed her as she went through the door. He had never been in the kitchen at Benjie’s before. He didn’t recognize all the appliances, but an enormous urn for making tea was almost identical to the one in the huge central kitchen of Francesca’s house.
Janis put her tray down. “There.” She pointed at the recycler.
Ran-Del carefully dropped the broken glass into the chute. A small sliver of glass had wedged itself in his palm.
“Oh, now you’re bleeding,” Janis said.
“It’s nothing,” Ran-Del said. “It’ll stop in a moment.”
“I’ve got a medkit here, somewhere,” Janis said, hunting around in a cupboard. “Here it is.”
She set the kit down on a table and opened it. “Give me your hand, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del held out his bleeding right hand, and Janis took it between her own hands. The effect was electric.
“Oh,” Janis breathed, surprise and elation radiating from her. “I thought that was you.” She tugged his caste bracelet around until the four sky-gold beads were on top. “Ohmigosh!”
Feeling a rush of vindication, Ran-Del asked her a point blank question. “How many beads would you have, Janis, if you had a caste bracelet?”
She looked up at him. “We don’t rate people like that—and we’d certainly never advertise it like this if we did.”
She tugged the bracelet as if to hide the glass bea
ds, and the black and silver beads became visible. “Oh, your great-grandfather died. I’m sorry, Ran-Del.”
“Thank you. Who is ‘we,’ Janis?”
She darted him a look. “You could find out without asking.”
Ran-Del shook his head. “That’s against the rules.”
She cocked her head and looked at him with interest. “We have similar rules.”
Ran-Del’s chance to respond was lost as the door slid open. Brewster stood in the doorway.
“Sorry,” he said cheerfully. “Regulations. Can’t have you out of sight, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del set his jaw. He could feel Janis’ annoyance, as strong as his own, as she fastened a sterilizing bandage on his hand.
Her thoughts came through to him, clear as crystal. We’ll talk later.
Ran-Del responded the same way. All right.
Janis stayed in the kitchen when Ran-Del made his way back into the bar. Brandon glowered at Ran-Del, and Jena commented on the bandage, but no one else made a remark until the lot of them got up to go back to work.
“Take care, wild man,” Georges said. “Remember, the city has its dangers, too.”
“I’ll remember,” Ran-Del said.
He sat sipping his tea, waiting until Francis was in the back room and Janis had gone back into the kitchen. Then he stood up.
“Wait here, please,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Geldorf looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, Ran-Del. It’s against regs. We’re supposed to keep you in sight at all times.”
Ran-Del debated about trying to insist on being left alone and decided against it. “I see. Let’s go then.”
He set an even brisker pace back to the complex. Geldorf was out of breath and Brewster was red-faced and puffing when they got there. Ran-Del left them at the front gate and headed back to the main house. He spent the afternoon trying to come up with a good way to tell his wife that he needed to leave the Hayden complex without his security escort so that he could talk to a woman alone. He couldn’t think of one.
He was still debating his options the next morning at breakfast. He decided the only possible course was to come right out with his intentions.
“Francesca,” he said, to get her attention. They always ate breakfast in their sitting room because Francesca had a bad habit of watching the news bulletins while she ate.
“Yes, Ran-Del?” she said absently, her eyes on the monitor.
“I’m going out again today. I need to leave the escort behind. Do you want to call Quinn, or should I?”
“What?” She didn’t absorb what he had said for a second, and then it hit her. “Why? Where do you want to go that you can’t take an escort?”
“It’s not so much where I want to go,” Ran-Del said, “it’s that they won’t let me be alone, even for a second. I need to talk to someone privately.”
“Who?”
There was a long silence. Ran-Del realized he couldn’t tell Francesca who without also telling her why, and he didn’t want to give away Janis’ secret without her permission. “I can’t tell you.”
Francesca switched off the monitor. “It’s that woman, isn’t it?”
Ran-Del tried for reassurance. “I’m not contemplating an affair, Francesca. There’s no need for you to be jealous.”
Francesca folded her arms across her chest and frowned at him. “What is this about, then?”
Ran-Del suppressed the desire to imitate her reaction. She was taking things the wrong way and insisting on controlling his life at the same time. “It’s about my need to have some freedom, for one thing. I can’t live like a pet, shut up in the house but taken out for an airing every now and then.”
Irritation leaked from Francesca. “I don’t treat you like a pet. If you’d be more sensible about going out, I wouldn’t need to be so—so—”
“Meddlesome?” Ran-Del suggested. “Arrogant? Dictatorial?”
She pushed her chair back and jumped to her feet. She seemed to be suffering from a fit of temper, but she said nothing for a few seconds, until she got it under control. “I gave you a choice, Ran-Del. You didn’t have to marry me. You’d seen our complex; you knew how Pop and I lived. You could have said no.”
“I married willingly,” Ran-Del said, getting to his feet to face her. “But I never agreed to give up my freedom. Among the Sansoussy, marriage doesn’t mean surrendering the right to go where you please. We have no barons or baronesses. We’re all equal.”
“I suppose a shaman doesn’t give orders?”
Ran-Del started to retort, but the com set buzzed demandingly.
Francesca turned toward the desk, the anger Ran-Del felt from her showing in her stance. “What is it?”
“I beg your pardon, Baroness,” a voice said apologetically. “This is Brewster at the front gate. There’s a woman here asking to see Citizen Jahanpur.”
Francesca stood very straight. “Have someone escort her to my quarters, please.”
“Don’t you need to know her name, Baroness?” Brewster sounded astounded at her order.
“I’m quite sure I know it already.” Francesca cut the connection and looked at Ran-Del.
He had nothing new to say, so he said nothing. At least the matter was resolved. He could talk to Janis here.
“Well,” Francesca said, in a voice cold enough to have chilled water in seconds, “I’ll leave you alone, Ran-Del, since you have a guest coming. I’ll be in my office if you need to tell me anything.”
The pain he felt from her moved Ran-Del to protest. “Don’t be foolish, Francesca. I can see what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Francesca smiled bleakly.
“Yes.” Ran-Del crossed the space between them and took her in his arms. “There’s nothing between Janis and me. After I speak to her, I’ll tell you what it was about, if I can.”
“If you can?” Francesca’s voice sounded as rigid as her body felt. “What would stop you?”
Ran-Del sighed with frustration. “I’ll try to explain it later.”
She pulled away and made for the door.
A few minutes after she left, the door trilled. Ran-Del called for it to open. When it did, he stared in shock. Every bit as much as Francesca, he had expected his visitor to be Janis Uurtemo. The woman who walked through the door was a good thirty seasons older. Her hair might have been any color once but now it was a distinguished gray rather than Janis’ reddish brown.
“Clara,” Ran-Del said, trying to hide his astonishment, “it’s good to see you.”
Clara Rangoon’s eyes twinkled. “Hello, Ran-Del. It’s good to see you, too.”
It reminded Ran-Del of the traditional greeting among kinsmen, except it was backwards; as the elder, Clara should have spoken first.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you by calling so early,” Clara went on. “Georges informs me that the Sansoussy are early risers.”
“Usually I am. This morning, though, I, ah, stayed in bed a little later than I normally do.”
He and Francesca had made love that morning, for the fourth time since Ran-Del’s return.
Clara smiled. “I’m sure you deserved to take a break.”
“A break from what?” Ran-Del said. “I’m unemployed and completely idle.”
“Well, in a way, that’s what I’ve come to see you about, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del studied her, suddenly conscious of the fact that he didn’t sense random thoughts from her, any more than he had from his grandparents or Janis. Clara nodded.
Yes. She was still smiling. You have it now.
It took Ran-Del a second to realize that Clara hadn’t spoken aloud.
The Sixth Discipline Page 88
