by Doris Egan
I tested the pot again; it was still bubbling.
"Theodora?" came the voice from the hall, when I didn't answer. The left half of his face appeared in the doorway. "Are you going to throw any more bowls?"
I checked, but there was no immediate impulse. "Not at the moment."
He slipped into the room. "It's just a meaningless agenda item, you know. Nobody can make us take any action on it."
I said, "You don't want to talk about children with me, but you'll spend an hour on it in a full council meeting?"
"That's not fair. I don't want to talk about it with them, either. And if I can get the discussion of Mira-Stoden spun out long enough, I may not have to talk about it at all. They'll all have their minds on the wine and the gold-coin girls, they won't want to let the meeting run over. It's the only time a lot of them have in the capital all year."
Not forgetting the written schedule, I said, "You won't be able to cover the Andulsine alliance question then, either."
"What of it? It'll keep for another ten years. It's not like anything really gets done at these meetings, anyway; I've already seen all the branch reports, and so have you. If there were a real problem, we'd fly out to the people involved and go over it with them. Which we'll have to do in Mira-Stoden anyway, pretty soon. You can't settle anything in an hour, one day of the year."
I said, "But the others care enough about this to have it put on the agenda."
He sighed and pulled over a stool. He sank onto it, and I realized I'd managed to get hold of the real problem, right there; the simple fact that they'd gotten it on the agenda was a message to Ran.
And of course to me. What got said at the discussion was superfluous.
Ran was the First of the House. No doubt my body was a topic of discussion in Cormallon homes around the planet. "There is no privacy inside the House," the old saying has it, and it isn't said cheerfully. But for the first time it occurred to me that Ran's capabilities were probably debated just as freely. Did they check up on whether there were any bastards left around? Or would they simply insist on handing him another wife, like a sports player handed a new ball and told not to mess up on this round?
I looked at my husband sitting on the stool and said, "I begin to see why you never give any information to anybody. It's the only way you can keep any privacy."
He seemed reassured by this remark, and we sat there glumly. Red sauce dripped on the wall, which I would have to clean later. No wonder I'd never gotten into the habit of throwing things.
I said, "Ran, face it, our… mating… is an unknown quantity. Maybe Ivoran and barbarian have had children before, but I've never heard of it. There's no record of it. I can't get a straight answer from anybody on whether we're still one species. And what about sorcerers? Magic runs in families, you've got to believe there's something physical in that. Are you different even from the run-of-the-mill Ivoran? How different? Do you know? The gods know I don't."
He was silent.
"We might try for the next twenty years and not get pregnant. Or it might happen next week… and then what? What kind of a child would we produce? Don't you see that I need some kind of answer to that, some hint, some clue?"
He said, finally, "I'm not as worried as you—"
"Thanks, you won't be bearing it!" I said, unable to stop myself from giving the age-old answer.
"Listen to me. You remember Grandmother left a message for me—"
I sat up straight, startled. Ran's grandmother had been a woman of surprises, formidable, a little scary, and impossible not to respect. For some reason she'd taken a liking to me, and I'd walked carefully the few times I'd met her. As everyone else did, I suspect.
He went on, "She was a great sorcerer. But I think we both know there were things she had in mind she wasn't telling us."
"I know." Grandmother was one who wrote her own agendas, which she didn't always share.
"I spent time in the library with her bluestone after she died. The psychic impressions were still strong… knowing Grandmother, they'd probably be readable if I picked it up today. When she wanted to leave a message, she made it crystal clear. She was fond of you, Theodora."
"I kind of liked her, myself."
"She told me—well, I guess you can imagine, she told me to stop fooling around and get married to you. She said you might take ship for home, but a good hunter doesn't quit when the sun goes down."
"Gods! You never told me this."
"I told you she'd said for me to stop being a fool."
"But not in these exact words. And how did she know I'd decided on shipping out? Her message to me didn't…"
Ran looked thoughtful. "What was her message to you, anyway?"
"Hmm, she told me to stop being a fool, too."
Ran waited for more, then said, "Well. Anyway, she said I was an idiot if I didn't follow through, since you were just the sort of woman I ne— The point is, she said you were good for the family. She said relations among the Four Planets would be shifting, and you'd bring new blood and better awareness of barbarian thinking. I mention the new blood because she seemed to have great hopes for our offspring."
That made me drop the question I'd been hanging onto and pick up another one. "What did she say about these offspring?"
"Nothing specific, but she was always an extraordinary card-reader. She would never have worked so hard to get you safely into Cormallon if she hadn't thought you'd be valuable. That you, and me, together, would be valuable."
I sat there for a minute taking this in. The vague suggestions of an elderly relative, now deceased, would not generally have an effect for me on such a personal issue—except that if you'd known Ran's grandmother, you'd take her very seriously, too.
"You never mentioned any of this," I said again.
"Well, it was a personal message. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to look into other people's private correspondence? Like council agendas with PRIVATE stamped on them?"
I waved that away. "You toss the House business mail at me to open half the time anyway. Besides, my privilege codes exceed yours." This was true. I handled family expenses, like most wives, and had access to the House financial records. "They should have stamped EYES ONLY if they didn't want me to see it. Or BORING."
He shrugged. I said, "About your grandmother, though, I'm glad you told me. It's very reassuring." If also rather alarming in its suggestion that I had a mission.
"Good."
"But I'd still like to have us both looked over by a genalycist."
Now he looked disgusted. "First of all, I'm familiar with some outplanet history, and there haven't been any real, trained genalycists around for over a hundred and fifty years. Just cooks following recipes."
"Tellys claims to be making strides."
"Where did you hear that?"
"Around."
"Well, it makes no difference to us, anyway. We don't know any Tellysian genalycists."
Jack Lykon, I thought. Just call the embassy. All we have to do is do them a favor.
I was silent.
He said, "So we may as well consider the issue closed. Trust Grandmother, Theodora; she's a lot more reliable than some barbarian with a good line of talk."
I stood up. "I'd better get a rag and clean off the wall before it stains."
"I'd better get us some more food," he said, joining me.
"What are you going to say at the meeting, if the discussion comes around to me?"
"I'll think of something."
I considered that as we walked down the hallway. "Tell them that I had an implant when I was on Athena last, and it's only just wearing off. They need to give us another year."
He stopped, surprised. "Is that true?"
"Ran, I'm telling you what to tell them I said. Do you really need to know whether it's true?"
"No," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I don't. Would you like me to pick up groundhermit again?"
"Please. Extra sauce."
He left for
the cookshop, and I went to hunt up a rag and do some thinking.
We made our report to Jusik the next day. He was sitting in the garden beside the pond, a small table beside him with a pot of tah on a warmer and an empty cup. He was wearing a silver outerrobe covered with tassels—funeral clothes.
Ran sat on a boulder to the left of the table, and I sat on one to the right. Jusik didn't acknowledge our presence; I'm not certain whether he knew we were there or not. He may just not have cared. After at least five full minutes, Ran said, "Our sorrow dwells with yours on this day."
He glanced up. "Thank you."
The funeral had finished an hour ago. Firebowls were still set around the garden, and an arc of silver metal rose from a black pedestal nearby. The arc was just a remembrance, left out for half a year after a death, to bring the thought of the dead person back to mind. Silver streamers hung from it, from today's ceremony, but they'd soon crumble or blow away. There are no cemeteries on Ivory, and no monuments, except for emperors.
Lord Porath showed no inclination to pursue the conversation. My husband, however, is not one to allow the exigencies of real life to get in the way of business. After what he considered a decent interval, he said, "Noble sir, we must speak with you regarding our investigation.!"
Jusik raised his eyes to Ran's like one performing a rote task. "You have arranged a meeting with your employer?"
Ran's right hand, half-hidden in his robes beside the low table, clenched, and by that I knew his temper had been scratched. His voice was nothing but courteous when he said, "Noble sir, I'm afraid you yourself are my only employer. It's for that reason we've come to you to present such findings as we have, rather than to one more closely concerned with them."
Mild interest flickered in Jusik's black eyes. "Who is more closely concerned with them than I?"
"The true target of the sorcerer who caused your son's death." Jusik sat up straight and fixed his gaze on us both. Now that he was assured of an audience, Ran hauled out his facts as though Lord Porath were any other client who'd asked advice on a matter of magic. "We know that the sorcerer who killed your son was a hired market mountebank with a stall in Trade Square. He was using the name Moros when last heard from. He initiated his attack from Catmeral Bridge, where he waited till the boat was within range and his victim in line-of-sight."
"And you allege this victim was?" Jusik rapped out the words.
"We haven't completed our investigation, but at the moment the likeliest victim seems to be one of your security guards—Loden Broca Mercia."
I broke in here. "We'd like your permission to warn him, noble sir."
Jusik glanced at me briefly, then said, "And how did you come by this farfetched theory?"
Ran said, "Are you familiar with a blue ring Kade was laid out still wearing? Your steward will confirm it if you're not."
Jusik looked startled. He nodded, and Ran told him the rest of the story, leaving out one or two details of minor interest. Jusik said eagerly, "So you traced this sorcerer to his lair! What did he say? Who hired him?"
Ran and I looked at each other. Ran said, "We didn't actually finish the trace. Moros seems to have left town."
"But you can follow him, can't you, now that you've got the ring?"
"I really don't think he's likely to ever turn up," Ran said firmly.
Jusik sat back. "I see." He looked at me. "You agree, I suppose, that this witness won't be back."
"I would be very surprised," I said.
Jusik had returned once again to being the First of Por-ath. He picked up the tah pot and poured a new cup, his eyes far away. Ran looked at me and shook his head. I really don't know how he knew I was going to ask about warning Loden again.
After a moment Jusik said, "Are you willing to stake your reputation on this? That Kade's death was accidental?"
Ran said, choosing his words slowly, "I would stake my reputation on what I've just told you."
Jusik put down his cup and smiled, as though a silver arc no longer hung behind his head. "Then there's no reason to believe my family is involved with this at all."
"One might say that the use of your boating party as a murder location was an insult to you," said Ran, tentatively.
The smile grew slightly broader. "An insult if I choose to regard it as such. I choose to be tolerant."
Behind Jusik, I saw the short form of Auntie Jace make its way across the garden. She approached the silver arc, folded her knees, and sat beneath it in an attitude of respectful meditation. I wasn't sure if she was scoring points with the family or just wanted to hear what we were saying.
Lord Porath leaned forward. "May I speak frankly to you, my brother First?"
"Please do," said Ran, in an absolutely toneless voice.
"My House is… distracted," said Jusik, spreading his hands. "We have our attention in other places right now. Coalis needs seasoning, experience; and then there's the matter of Eliana, and your brother-in-law."
"Yes," said Ran.
"If you had come to me with some other scenario— hypothetically, if you had come to me with some news of a House enemy, who had killed Kade deliberately—I would have met with this enemy and tried to accommodate him.
I don't want our name involved in this anymore. I don't want our attention on it, or our money poured into it. I want to cut free of it altogether."
"I see."
Jusik stood up, and manners required that we stand up too. He extended his hand. "You bring me good news," he pronounced, more loudly. Ran allowed his hand to be grasped for a moment in fellowship, then slid it away. Jusik bowed to me, and I inclined my head. "We will discuss some fair recompense in a few days, when the initial mourning is over."
It was a dismissal, but I lingered. "Noble sir."
"Ah—yes, gracious lady?"
"You haven't officially given us your permission to notify Loden Broca of the danger he's in."
He appeared mildly surprised. "Your task is over, is it not?"
"But he could be killed at any moment. And he's never done anything to you."
"I never said he had," he said, bewilderedly.
Ran took my arm. "My wife takes a different attitude to these things."
Jusik wore a look I'd seen before, a look of one at a loss before barbarian ways.
Ran smiled. "I hope you'll indulge us by granting permission."
"Well… of course. It's nothing to me. But make it clear to anyone who's interested that my House wants to stay out of this."
"Naturally," agreed Ran. He started steering me around the pond before I could say something else.
I threw a glance behind me as we left and saw Jusik standing, looking across the garden toward the distance, the tah service beside his feet. Behind him, I saw that Auntie Jace had finally gotten off her knees.
"He seemed thrilled to pieces to get rid of us," I said. We were standing by the door, waiting for the steward to accompany us down the path and out to the front gate. Our official leavetaking, and hopefully the last time we (or I) would have to step foot on these cat-consecrated grounds.
"Understandable," said Ran. "We're useless baggage tying him to an incident he wants put behind him."
"I'm surprised he even believed us, considering how set he seemed to have your guilt in his mind."
He made a face. "I'm sure he'll check up on his own to confirm." He sighed, ran a hand over the top of his head, and skid, "But he'll get confirmation. The case is over."
I stopped. "What do you mean, over? Who killed Kade?"
"Do we care?" he asked, in honest puzzlement.
"You care! You spent a quarter of an hour telling me what a useless excuse for a sorcerer he was."
"Well, and so Moros was. And now he's dead. Good for the profession."
"But who hired him?"
Ran paused with the look of one who is trying to translate each word into some obscure dialect. He said, "Jusik is satisfied. We've exchanged favors. He'll give us a break with this marriage busi
ness. I'm sure the question of who killed Kade is an interesting intellectual exercise—"
"This intellectual exercise nearly had us both knifed in Trade Square!"
"That wasn't anything personal, Theodora."
I'd taken it damned personally. I still have occasional nightmares about it. "What if they try again?"
"Why should they? Once word is out that the case is closed and we're no longer interested. It's really none of our business, sweetheart."
The last sentence came out in a slightly reproving tone. He sounded as though, if one weren't being paid for it, looking into a homicide was an invasion of the murderer's privacy. As though it would be rude to pursue it.
All right, this is an Ivoran, I told myself. Give him a reason that means something to him. "Won't it look bad for our reputation if people still think you're the one who knocked off the first son of Porath? While a guest in their house?"
He bit his lip. "Jusik won't support that rumor."
"Some people will still believe it."
He said, "Look, Theodora—"
The door opened. Eliana, Coalis, and Leel Canarol piled out. I took a step or two back.
Coalis' eyes went at once to mine. "Theodora! Is it true? You found Kade's murderer?"
Eliana, meanwhile, had zeroed in on Ran. But still affecting modesty (or maybe it was real), she didn't want to leap on him and shout for his attention, so she tugged urgently at her chaperone's sleeve. Leel Canarol stepped forward and addressed Ran (she was, I saw, slightly taller than he was): "Is it true, gracious sir? Kade wasn't the victim at all, it was meant to be that nice-looking guard on the boat?"
Ran winced slightly at the latest woman in his path to comment on Loden's looks. Kylla had had more than a few things to say on that subject in his hearing.
"Fast work," I murmured. We'd only left their father and Auntie Jace about four minutes ago. She must have raced inside and flew upstairs to pass the word.
"You'll have to speak with Lord Porath about it," said Ran firmly. "I would not presume to comment on the affairs of your family—"
"Oh, come!" said Coalis. "He never tells us anything. And if it's not really anything to do with our family, shouldn't we know that we're not involved?"