“We servants are certainly wishing Sieur Max a long life,” Sammas was saying. “The Presieur Maros will not make an employer of the class that his father is. As a matter of fact, Sieur Max has banished him from this house, as well as from the country Estate, giving him a small stipend instead, to live where he will, hopefully somewhere where he does less damage than he did on the family holdings.”
“Uh, that sounds serious,” Chrysalia commented.
The ends of the lace crystal talons flicked in and out rapidly.
“Yeah. Things weren’t too bad while his mother was still alive. The Lady Sash seemed to have some amount of control over him. When she died....”
The Head Housekeeper seemed to have settled into gossiping mode. Lank vaguely wondered about that: did servants commonly do that when their employers were out of the room? If so, it was a useful way to get information, wasn’t it? Wait, hadn’t Kati talked of something like that; how sometimes, on the Drowned Planet, she had sent Jocan to gather information that way?
“Of course the Presieur Maros was grieving his mother’s passing; that explains some of his behaviour,” Sammas was saying, in a tone of confidentiality.
“Of course,” Chrysalia agreed.
“I’m not altogether certain that Sieur Max is going to be too helpful when it comes to finding a manufacturer of lace crystal knives,” Sammas said carefully. “The Presieur did some of the damage he managed to do with a lace crystal knife, you see. He came pretty close to killing his father with it, as a matter of fact. The Estate workers were the ones who prevented it; some of the men who work in the winery heard the altercation and succeeded in fighting down the Presieur, and in wresting the knife away from him.”
“That is indeed very disturbing,” said Chrysalia. “In several different ways.
“To begin with, a relationship between a father and a son which ends up with one of them brandishing a deadly weapon at the other must be in a bad state.”
Sammas’ short laugh was without humour.
“The relationship between the Sieur and the Presieur has been disastrous. The Presieur, you see, showed early some character traits that run in the Lordz family as well as the family of Lady Sash, but which the Sieur never did admire—for a good reason. Maros was a manipulative bully as a boy — many boys outgrow that phase, but as an indulged only child, and the heir to an Old Family, there was no hope of that in his case. His father tried to keep his excesses in check, but only managed to incite the boy’s wrath, while jealous neighbouring Families encouraged him, judging that it was to their advantage to see the Lordz Family fall to ruin. The Presieur was never bright enough to see that, unlike his father, who had his differences with his pater, but made sure to accept the old man’s lead, to the benefit of the Family’s dependents.”
“It also disturbs me to hear that the lace crystal knives are common enough on this world that a young man could have obtained one easily enough to use it in a family dispute,” Chrysalia said. “That was never the intention of those of us who export the crystal.”
“Most of the knives were sold off-world, at great profit for the manufacturers,” Sammas responded. “However, certain persons thought that leaving a few odd ones on planet, and selling them for less, was a good way to foment discord. A lace crystal knife can be used to assassinate, but it can also be a potent threat of assassination. It can be easily concealed—part of the manufacturing process is to create the ornamental sheathe which always has the look of an attractive, benign stick-like object—but also be quickly brandished and used. A fool can use one of them, but it takes weapons artistry, or plenty of brute strength, to parry it.”
“The employees who saved Sieur Lordz from his son had the brute strength, I presume?”
“Yes. There were several of them, and they happened to be burly men, although none of them had weapons training.”
“What was done with the knife?” Chrysalia asked. “I imagine that it was not returned to the Presieur.”
“No, it was not. It was not turned into a fish knife either.” Sammas grinned as he said that. “It is in the Estate Winery safe, I believe, in a box which only the Sieur can open. It’s a heavy, metal box, very difficult to break, and he has told me that he intends for the secret of its unlocking to die with him.”
“He hasn’t considered selling the knife off-world? There are weapons collectors around who gladly pay small fortunes to get those knives into their collections.”
“That is an option I suppose,” Sammas agreed. “If it can be safely transported off this planet.”
Their chatter was interrupted by the Cook, who came to ask the Head Housekeeper something in a very low whisper. Sammas excused himself to Chrysalia and left to attend to whatever pressing duty was calling him.
Chrysalia stood up from her chair and stepped over to where Lank was.
“I hope Llon succeeds in contacting the Planetary Spirits,” she said in a soft voice. “It’s quite the mess that the people have got themselves into, on this world.”
*****
“Why am I not surprised to hear that Judd Gorsh figures so prominently in your tales of dastardly deeds plotted and done?” Max Lordz said.
Kati had laid the broad outlines of the situation that she and her crew were dealing with, for him to digest. He was doing just that, staring into the unlit fireplace, his wine glass forgotten, beside him.
Kati’s throat was raspy from talking and she had picked up her wineglass to sip from it, amused to see that the bottle between the two of them was still almost full. They had been so intent on her story that they had forgotten to consume the fine beverage.
“That doesn’t happen too often to you,” sniffed The Monk inside her head. “Usually you drink your share of the wine.”
“Well, I can, since I’ve got you to take care of my blood alcohol,” she responded, and was glad that the jibe sent the Granda to the back of her mind. He could be so annoying, she thought for, possibly, the thousandth time.
“We are going to have to count on Federation justice when it comes to him,” the Waywardian added. “We’re quite simply incapable of policing our world properly. We’ve started creating proper governing apparatuses, now that we have replaced the old Council of the Families with the Great Council—at least here on Continent Nord—but we still have lots of work ahead of us. The Council of the Families had become an utter disaster as a governing body, not necessarily because it was corrupt—which it was—but because its members were mostly just plain incompetent. We still have those incompetent Councillors in the Great Council, since that was the price of a peaceful transition to the new order, but now they are a minority, and cannot botch up every legislative effort the way they used to. Thank the heavens for fresh blood!
“But I’m rambling. You are here to formulate a way to put an end to Gorsh’s illegal activities, to turn him in to Federation justice, and to free the unfortunates whom he has enslaved. It so happens that some of us who are trying to straighten this world’s affairs, would like nothing better than to put a stop to Judd Gorsh’s attempts to extend his power and influence.
“I must get hold of Marna Naez, the Council President, and Karn Gurt, her Second.”
He rose from his chair and moved to the one at the desk. He flicked on a light, and Kati saw that the communications console was an old one, and looked like a confused conglomeration of electronic equipment. Max Lordz put on a set of headphones and grasped what looked like a tiny microphone; then he turned on a switch and adjusted a dial. Within moments, he was talking to someone in a low voice which Kati made no effort to hear. There was no point in eavesdropping; it would have been impolite.
After a short conversation, Lordz changed the dial setting and proceeded to talk again; Kati sipped her wine slowly, while she waited.
“Well, we’ll have more company for dinner,” Lordz said when he got up again. “Marna’s coming, and Karn, too, and he’s bringing his wife, Cassi; I asked him to bring her since she is a rather as
tute woman, and her input is generally very useful.
“We better go back to the others; I’ll have to warn Sammas and Johanes that there will be more people at the table.”
He grabbed his empty wine glass and the wine bottle, and headed out, with Kati following him.
“Won’t another few guests at such a short notice cause a problem for your staff?” Kati asked as they walked.
“They’re used to it,” her host replied with a smile. “Because our institutions are still so primitive, I have taken it upon myself to do much of the official Government entertaining, here at the house. It allows me to keep extra staff, and have more food and drink on hand. Some of the Councillors who don’t much like me claim that I do it keep my home provisioned by the Government, but when I suggested that one of them do it instead, they backed down very quickly. I couldn’t do it without the loyalty of my employees, of course; I have to ask people like Sammas and Johanes often to exceed the call of duty. I am fortunate that they cheerfully do so, time and again.”
*****
When Kati and Lordz reached the sitting room, Llon was just returning from his foray into the garden. Chrysalia and Lank were discussing something by one of the windows, and Ciela was sitting alone, a half-glass of wine beside her, and yawning.
“Looks like I better take my crew to the suite to nap before dinner,” Kati said, shaking her head at Ciela. “Hey Chrysalia, I thought that you were going to look after the crew youngest!”
Chrysalia looked up, and grinned.
“She’s sleepy more than she’s tipsy, Captain,” she said. “I think that we all can use a siesta. The formidable snack that our hosts provided, has made us sluggish.”
“Great minds think alike,” subvocalized the Granda sarcastically.
“A couple of hours of relaxation will suit everyone, including me, just fine,” said Max Lordz. “Feel free to take advantage of our amenities, Kati and crew. Sammas will send someone to alert you a half hour before it’s time to return here for the pre-dinner ritual of introductions. I will have to confer with him and the Cook before I retire for my rest.”
The Spacebird Two crew trooped upstairs into the rooms that had been allotted them. Barely had the door closed behind the last person when Chrysalia rounded on Kati:
“Did you get any cooperation from our host?” she asked.
“That depends on the sort of cooperation you had in mind,” Kati replied calmly. “If you’re asking about lace crystal knife manufacturers, the answer is no. We didn’t even discuss that. However, quite possibly we won’t even have to use that ploy; apparently we have chanced to become the guests of a rather influential man, and he and some others that he knows, happen to not much like Gorsh. Three of these people are coming to dinner, so the meal may become an interesting, and quite possibly, a useful, strategy session.”
“Good,” Chrysalia said. “I don’t much like the idea of leaving the long shards on this world. It is a messy place, with plenty of folk who don’t stop to think before they do foolish things. And those with power have done a disastrously poor job of controlling them. I came to these conclusions from talking with the servants.”
“Max Lordz mentioned that the people that he allies with, recently succeeded in transforming the government of the Continent Nord from one run—very badly—by what amounted to a Family Compact, to what he called The Great Council, mostly elected by all classes of people. However, he added that this had been accomplished only a short while ago, and the Council was far from coming even close to doing all that it needs, and wants to do. Things are in a flux, in other words.”
“Yes, I gathered from my chats that Sieur Max is well-loved by the people around him, even though he is the Head of one of the Old Families, albeit one that is in danger of dying out altogether. Most of the Old Families have not succeeded in hanging on to the loyalty of the people living on, or around their Estates.”
“It sounded to me like they have only themselves to blame for it,” Kati concurred with a nod. “Incompetence and corruption, and who knows what else, is what it sounded like to me, although Max did not go into it in detail.”
“Excessive in-breeding within the Old Families, as well,” Chrysalia added, with her nose wrinkled. “The Lordzes were into it, too, which is why the Family is dying out. Apparently Sieur Max’s father refused to allow him to marry some remarkable commoner woman, and forced him to marry a cousin instead—with terrible results, from the sounds of it.”
“Ick. I never have been able to understand parents who think that they ought to control their children’s behaviour into adulthood.” Now it was Kati’s nose which was wrinkling. “Maybe there are times when the results turn out okay, but....” She let the words drift off. That did not matter at the moment.
“I have some good news,” Llon broke in. “I was able to contact the Nature Spirit that belongs to this region, which in its turn is connected to all of the others—if they can be considered separate beings—on this continent. The word from the Spirits is that we, meaning you, Lank and myself have been asked for by name.”
“Which means that Xoraya and Mikal have been in touch with the Spirits,” Kati finished for him, elated.
“Not quite.” Llon shook his head. “It’s a little more complicated, but, nevertheless, very promising.”
He had the other four’s full attention; they all gathered around him to listen.
“The river valley of the city of Salamanka is an oasis where the Planetary Spirits reign supreme, even though much of the city itself has fallen into the negativity generated by an entity which is centred in an old building known as the Citadel. A Wise Woman who lives in the valley was very recently visited by two young women, girls in their late teens, I believe, who were running away from the Slaver Gorsh. The Wise Woman knew that there was not much hope of them getting away, since Gorsh and his Overseer mark the chattels with tiny, subcutaneous chips which they can trace at will. So it was only a matter of time before a flyer came looking for them.
“But, they had been encouraged to try to escape by a young boy named Murra, who is kept imprisoned in the Citadel cellars, along with three comatose bodies. This Murra had suggested that they, firstly, look for a Shaman or a Wise Woman, and talk with him or her, and, secondly, try to, somehow, get in touch with three off-worlders who would certainly help them if they could. The names of the off-worlders were Kati, Lank and Llon.”
Muted cheers rose from his listeners.
“However, they were caught again,” Kati then sighed, “but at least we now know where the prisoners are kept.”
“Better than that,” Llon said, grinning. “The Wise Women, and the Shamans of this planet can be quite innovative when they see a need. This one called on the local Spirit to create a jini, which she and the Spirit then hid on the person of one of the girls. The jini could offer some rudimentary protection to the two from Gorsh’s wrath, plus, if the girls interacted with the boy and his charges, it could join forces with them to undermine the power of the negative spirit in the Citadel.”
“What’s a jini?” Ciela asked.
“Jini is what the people on this world call a small portion of a Nature Spirit, which the Spirit detaches from itself, after giving it a task, and energy for that task. It is always in contact with the original Spirit; there is no way to break that bond, but it has the ability to act independently, and therefore can adjust itself to the conditions as it finds them. Very useful Spirit creatures, the jinis; it’s probably only inertia that has kept the Planetary Spirits from using them to undermine the negativity that has overshadowed some places on this world.”
“Hey, sounds like we’re getting somewhere!” said Lank. “Now, Kati, if you and Lordz and his friends can come up with a useful scheme for outwitting Gorsh, we’ll be in business.”
“So I’m supposed to come up with the ideas, am I, huh?” Kati snapped. “Why not the rest of you?”
“Because you’re the expert,” Lank laughed. “Think of all the good
plots you hatched on Vultaire!”
“Hm. I think you came up with one or two yourself, young man. So, I’m putting this challenge to you all: before falling asleep, ask your inner selves to come up with an idea as to how we should be dealing with Gorsh. We’ll put the ideas to the guests at tonight’s dinner. And to forestall arguments, yes, I do realize that anything we can come up with will be tentative; there are still a lot of things here that we don’t know.”
“You’ll do it, too, right?” Lank queried.
“Oh, I’m going to ask The Monk to come up with something for me,” Kati replied.
*****
Kati spent more time dressing than she normally did. It had occurred to her that it would not hurt to look as presentable as she possibly could, among what amounted to the politicians of the Continent Nord of Wayward. Not that there was much, really, that she could do, besides the obligatory shower. She had nothing with her in the way of make-up—Mikal had always told her that she was beautiful just as she was, what with her fine skin, bright eyes, and abundant hair. She braided the hair which by now was long enough to form a single, luxurious plait at her nape, and put on the best of the tunic and pants outfits which she had bought on Vultaire. Then she made a face at her image in the bedroom mirror.
“It’ll have to do,” she muttered, wishing that Mikal had been there to boost her ego. He was always telling her how beautiful she looked, even when she herself seriously doubted the veracity of his words.
What the mirror didn’t tell her, but which Mikal was always aware of, was that there was a liveliness of spirit about her which gave her a sparkle, and an attractiveness which had nothing to do with her facial features, or her figure. People were drawn to that spiritedness—even Judd Gorsh had been, to the extent that he was even now filled with fantasies of turning her into a second spouse.
When she stepped into the sitting room, Chrysalia and Ciela were already there. Chrysalia looked fragile, and devastatingly beautiful in a gossamer dress that she had brought with her from Crystoloria; Kati felt a momentary pang of envy as the smaller woman smiled at her. Ciela looked good, too; she was in the very bloom of youth, and had the confidence of the seriously intelligent adding to her looks.
Showdown on the Planet of the Slavers Page 31
