by Doris Egan
A careful choice of words. How much did the lanky fighter know?
Jusik glanced at Auntie Jace again, causing her to actually flinch. He was about to speak when he stopped and shook his head. An indulgent smile forced its way over his lips. "No. This is simply out of character. My child is sheltered, young, exposed to only the best and most proper things. It's simply inconceivable that she could be involved in anything of this sort. I'm sorry. For one thing, she wouldn't have the vaguest idea what to do—even if the thought of murder could enter her head, which I can't believe."
Ran said, "She's fairly experienced for her age." I turned to him in surprise. Ran had spent a couple of hours on the Net just before we came over, and I'd had no chance to ask him about it, but I hadn't been expecting any great surprises.
He went on, "My gracious wife informed me that a couple of confederates, whom Loden didn't recognize, were asked to make an apparent attempt on his life in a gambling hall. A show for our benefit, to drive home his role as victim. Not a bad idea, in fact; I don't doubt it was his lover's, and she showed the good sense not to warn Loden in advance." He actually smiled. "She couldn't know we would have a bodyguard, or that he would involve himself so enthusiastically." The smile disappeared. "The confederates were well-dressed and wore jewelry beyond what most people in the capital could afford to own. The lady Theodora has a scholarly mind; her description of a bracelet was quite exact." He paused for emphasis. "It belongs to Kas Sakri, a well-known player of the game of murder within the Six Families. No doubt they were doing a favor for— an ally? An opponent? A fellow player, at any rate."
Jusik had the appearance of a man who's dodged too many flying missiles. He said, "My son Coalis was briefly involved in that nonsense when he was younger. I put a stop to it. Son, have you been—"
"I haven't, Father, I swear!"
"He hasn't," agreed Ran. "I made inquiries. But EHana is a well-known novice player."
"Females simply do not play!" Jusik thundered.
"She's acted as an accomplice in the murder scenarios of at least two friends. It's true, I haven't yet discovered a game where she was the chief player. But heaven knows she must have observed enough."
Jusik was silent. Ran said, "All this can be easily checked."
Coalis spoke up. "Father, even if it's true, it doesn't mean—"
The paternal glare swiveled toward him. "How much do you know about this?"
"Me?" The voice was a squeak. "Nothing, sir! Nothing at all."
"I doubt he knew about the murder, anyway," put in Ran helpfully.
Jusik turned to Auntie Jace, who looked as though an anxiety attack was not far away. He said, "Auntie, I've relied on your discretion for years. You haven't failed me. I must warn you, if you've been involved in any twilight dealings now, you'd best say so; for I promise you, if I find out later the tiniest part of this is true, there'll be no mercy for you."
His tone of voice was scary even to me. It must have been much worse for someone dependent on his good will. She looked horrified.
"No mercy whatsoever," he added.
She began to make a wheezing sound, as though she were trying to get air. She started to rock back and forth, gasping.
"Auntie's not well," said Eliana, accusingly. "These two have made her ill, Father." She crossed to Auntie Jace's pillow and put her arms around her chaperone's shoulders. "Let me get her to her room—"
"Stand away, Eliana," said her father.
Looking startled, she let go. "Get hold of yourself, Auntie," said Jusik sternly. "Breathe slowly. Slowly. In and out. There now, just calm down, and if you have anything to say—say it now."
She gasped some more, then cried, "It wasn't my fault, Lord Porath! I tried to talk her out of it!" Gasp, gasp. "But she's all grown up now, she won't listen to me!" Gasp, gasp. "No, she has a defensive chaperone now! What can I do to make her behave? I have no authority! I'm just, I'm just a retainer!" She burst into tears, her gasps becoming louder. "I brought her up, and now I'm nobody!" She buried her face in her hands. "You can't blame me. It's not fair!"
Eliana's lips were pursed, and a disgusted look was on her face; her neck was angled back, as though to put more distance between her and Auntie. She gazed at her chaper-one with a kind of fascinated repulsion. Finally she turned toward her father.
Jusik's face had lost all expression. "Speak, daughter. Speak now. If the Mercian log confirms that Broca was in the gatehouse—"
"No doubt it will," she said. "But this one—" She cocked a head toward Auntie Jace—"is showing her usual backbone. She pushed and prodded and encouraged all the way. If I believed the sordid version these people tell, I'd think Loden bribed her to introduce us, that's how enthusiastic she was. Full of stories about court ladies and secret lovers—"
Auntie Jace started to wail. Clearly she would've denied it if she were still capable of speech.
"You admit to treason against your House," Jusik said tiredly.
"What treason?" she inquired with scorn. "Loden and I were married.''''
Ran and I looked at each other, startled.
She said, "I acted for the House of Broca. We all know that legally, when a woman marries, her obligation passes to her new family."
Jusik seemed just as surprised. He addressed Auntie: "Is this true?"
She nodded vigorously, her head still buried, her shoulders shaking.
"Great bumbling gods! When did you have time to exchange the marriage cakes? How long did you know this piece of garbage, anyway?"
"I won't listen to you talk about my husband that way."
"House of Broca, indeed! Who ever heard of the Brocas? A two-kembit guard, who had to borrow money from— wait a minute! Did Kade know you two were married?"
"Of course not. Why would he have wanted me to marry Shikron if he knew?"
Jusik paid no attention to this flippant contradiction on the part of his daughter. He said, "Did Coalis know?"
Coalis looked up, guilty knowledge blazoned across his face. "Certainly not!"
She said, quietly, "I never told Coalis. I never told anybody."
I could imagine Leel Canerol breathing a sigh of relief at that. It's not only his offspring that a First Ranked of the Six Families has the right to kill.
Jusik said, grasping for understanding, "I can't believe you would help to kill your own brother to settle a debt for this guardsman trash—"
"I had to stop the marriage arrangements," she said defiantly. Under her breath, I heard her add, "and Kade was no great piece of work, either."
Truthfully, I liked her for that addition. Naked honesty has always excited my admiration, apparently even in owning up to hatred and murder. What splendid self-possession for an eighteen-year-old, I thought. And what a pathetic view of her unworthy husband, what eighteen-year-old dreams of romance. Court ladies. Oh, gods protect us.
In a way I envied her, though. I'd had no romantic illusions at all at eighteen; the ones I had now had bloomed late, and took constant watering. If I'd never met Ran, I doubted I would have had them at all.
Jusik said, heavily, "So be it."
Coalis leaned forward, looking alarmed. "Just a minute, Father. We probably don't have the whole story—"
"Be silent." Coalis subsided, his eyes scared. So much for our na' telleth monk, removed from caring. Jusik said, "For the death of your brother, the First Son of our House—"
He hesitated. Eliana still knelt in the center, not far from Auntie Jace, with her back straight and her head raised. A Guinevere at the tribunal. And not an Arthur or Lancelot in sight.
"—You say you are no longer of Porath. So be it. Leave here now, never come back. Don't stop in your room for clothes or jewelry—"
"Father, please," said Coalis. "She can't live! She can't possibly live! How will she survive?"
"She's of the 'House of Broca,' " he said coldly. "Let the Brocas care for her. If they choose to. And if she can find them."
Eliana stood up, trembling slightl
y, from fear or anger or both. She still displayed that self-possession drilled into her from childhood: The discipline of a warrior on the inside, to make a fragile flower…
She touched the silver bracelet on her arm and for a moment I thought she was going to pull it off and throw it to the floor, in keeping with the level of high tragedy. But this was the woman who told Loden Broca to go back and burn the IOUs. She pulled the cuff of her sleeve down over it, turned, and bowed to her father for the last time.
Let the Brocas care for her.
Self-willed or not, there are damned few jobs in the capital for someone without family pull. I know this very well. And what was she trained in, but being a cultured and elegant young lady of the Six Families? A position no longer open.
So the cage was opening, now that there was no place to fly. She would never again have to placate Jusik, satisfy her chaperones, wear satin slippers in the snow and laugh delicately at the witticisms of wealthy suitors.
She turned, smoothed the wrinkles from her outerrobe with a gesture, and—quietly, carefully, gracefully—she left the room.
It felt as though a hurricane had passed. I looked at the others; they seemed as wrung-out as I felt. We all sat there for what must have been a good five minutes, like people dazed, before Jusik blinked and said, "Sir Cormallon. Gracious lady. We may consider this incident closed, I think. I would thank you to discuss it no further."
Ran bowed.
My mind still followed Eliana mentally, out into the garden, past that gatehouse for the last time. She must be well aware that that silver bracelet wouldn't last her very long.
So she'd taken her dignity and her dream of independence and turned to the nice-smelling security guard, Loden Broca Mercia, screwing up her life beyond any hope of redemption. What irony. She'd have been happier marrying whatever wedding card her family slapped down before her, regardless of age or temperament. She'd have had her brideprice rights, her divorce rights, her children with their duty to obey and defend her—she could have carved out a bearable, compromised life for herself. It's what I would have done. I mean, there are always books.
And plays. And sunsets. The way the capital looks from an aircar early in the morning when you're approaching from the west. I'd have taken the chips I had and banked them, and not risked all that on a question mark.
But I'm a prudent little soul, born to buy insurance. My own wild chances were always forced on me; Eliana was made of more splendid stuff. She'd have been happy as a man in this culture, or as a woman on, say, the sane part of Tellys. She chose Destiny with a capital D, chose the madness (an Ivoran phrasing) of sexual love over self-interest, recognized her enemies for who they were, regardless of family name. I admired and disliked and pitied her all at once.
I think I was the only one in Jusik's library who felt that first emotion, though.
Ran stood and helped me up. "Thank you for your time, noble sir," he said, and nudged me into an awareness of my manners. We both bowed.
There was a scream, loud and piercing, from the other side of the house. The garden side.
Everyone got to their feet. Ran looked at me. "The lizard," I said.
I must not have been the only one who thought so. Ran and I turned and started running, down the hall, down the stairs… behind Coalis. With Leel Canerol gaining on us, and Jusik just beyond.
We tumbled out onto the porch. At the far end, a shining patch of blue and green… We raced over.
The emerald lizard stuck his narrow tongue out at us all, his calm eyes gazing at this sudden invasion of madmen. His poison sac was still half-full.
"That's as full as it was when we came in," said Ran, puzzled.
I said, "I know. And where—"
Another scream, from beyond the jinevra bushes. We ran through the garden, Leel easily outdistancing us all.
An old woman in tattered servant's dress stood at the edge of the blue pool. Eliana floated in the center, surrounded by a pink halo. Beyond the long waving curtain of her black hair, you could just make out her knife on the bottom.
Chapter 19
Eliana had kept a flute on her windowsill. I'd seen one exactly like it in Loden's room at the inn. From such little things are suicides made.
Twelve days later I got an unexpected invitation from Coalis, and on an unseasonably cool late afternoon, almost early evening, I went to the Poraths' for the last time.
The garden was crowded. A closed wagon was parked near the east wing porch, crushing the flowerbed, and as I watched I saw Jusik's writing table being carried out and placed inside. Were they so hard up they were selling off the furniture? A thick hose ran from the blue pool to a groundtruck nearby. The truck was vibrating, making a woompah-woompah sound, and a workman stood beside it peering down into the pool. I peered, too.
It was nearly empty. Old leaves and dirt eddied in the shallow remains. The bushes around the edge looked mournful and precarious of life. Maybe they'd always looked that way and the pool just took your attention from it. Or maybe all the truck activity had upset their growth.
Coalis waited by the front step, one of the Scythian yellow toms in his lap. He stroked it absently. He glanced up at me as I approached.
"They're draining the pond," he said.
"So I see."
"The ferocity of feeling in violent suicide must be expunged. The emotion would leave its shade behind, fouling the pool. It has to be drained."
"Ah."
He ran his hand gently from the tom's forehead to the tip of its golden tail. "They tell me you barbarians don't believe in that kind of thing."
"You're a na' telleth. What do you believe?"
He smiled humorlessly. "Maintaining a distance from violent emotion is always wise. Besides, the pool would be a shame to my father. People would point to it and say, 'There's where Eliana Porath slashed her own throat, when she was rejected by her family.' Probably what she had in mind when she did it. She should have known Father would have the spot drained."
"Can he avoid the social shame that way?"
"Oh, no. The shame will last for years. Eliana's last gift." He smiled again. There was no blame in his tone, only a light affection. "That's why we're leaving the capital."
"You are?" He'd taken me by surprise.
"Father has a gentleman's farm, out in Syssha Province. It's one of the last pieces of property my family managed to hang onto. That's where we're going." He nodded toward the wagon. "Father's sending the heirloom pieces on ahead with the servants."
Father this, Father that. "What about you, Coalis? Are you going, too? Your tutors are here in the capital, aren't they?"
"Oh, yes, I'm going, too. Father made that very clear. That's why I invited you over today, Theodora, to say good-bye. You're one of the few people in this town I wanted to say it to formally."
Thank you, I think. "But what about your studies? Couldn't you stay with one of the other Six Families?"
"I am no longer to be exposed to the corruption of the city," he said. "We are to return to a simpler, more moral time, learning the lessons of the harvest and the seasons among good-hearted country folk."
"I see."
"Father blames the capital for what happened. He believes his children have lost touch with the true virtues. He's dropped his hobbies to concentrate on the important aspects of life. / am to be his sole focus now; me, the cats, and any farm stock."
"I'm very sorry."
"Yes." He grimaced. "He fired Leel Canerol for suggesting his concern was a bit late. He invited her along with us at first, you know. To protect the goods on the way, and to help on the farm."
"Not her speed, I would think."
"Well, you never know who harbors these unsuspected rural longings. Perfectly innocent looking people, sometimes." Not you, though, apparently. "Anyway, Leel was wrong to have mentioned it, even if she was upset. Besides, if Father had piled the weight of his full attention on Eli before this—"
She might have suicided that much soone
r, I filled in. Coalis closed his mouth firmly. There were limits even a na' telleth did not pass in speaking of one's parents; at least, not on Ivory.
I steered back the subject. "She's all right, then? He just fired her, nothing else?"
He rubbed the cat under its chin and a low purring sound began to gain strength. "You think he might have blackballed her in the capital? Beaten her before throwing her past the gate, without any clothes?"
"Well…"
"The fire's gone out of him, Theodora. Except for this farm scheme. You don't dare say a word against that for your life. Not even Grandmother." He sighed. "She's taking it better than we all thought. After her breakdown when Kade died, we assumed she'd lose control entirely. Father was even afraid it would kill her. But she's handling it better than he is. And she was closer to Eli, too—figure that out."
I sat down beside him, keeping a distance from the cat. "And what about Auntie?"
"Fighting a guerrilla campaign." He chuckled. "Holding on for dear life. I don't think she has any family left, and she doesn't dare ask for references. So she keeps to the corners and doesn't say a word. Father hasn't officially asked her to accompany us to Syssha. I'm betting she'll slip into the wagon and come anyway."
What a life. What a family. Jusik appeared at the other end of the east porch; he directed a workman to load a small cabinet of inlaid marble into the wagon. He glanced over at me where I sat and then turned back to his chore, as though dealing with anyone unnecessarily was more than could be expected of him. What in the world was Coalis going to do way out in Syssha Province? Loan-shark the sheep and cows? Collect three or four kembits a day from the peasantry?
The choice was not his, any more than the choice was Eliana's, though she'd tried to make it so. Possibly in the back of his mind Coalis was hoping for an early paternal heart attack and an early return to the capital; what was love and what was duty in his attitude toward his father, I certainly couldn't determine.
"I thought you'd like a souvenir," said Coalis, drawing my attention back.
I could not possibly conceive why he would think so. But he reached into a pocket and drew out a tiny bluestone globe trisected by a silver triangle. He put it in my palm. I'd seen the symbol before, over the entrance to a na' telleth monastery. No doubt I had more chance of seeing that monastery again than Coalis did. Even if Jusik died, no decent Ivoran boy would go into a monastery when he was the last of his family.