LC03 Shield's Lady

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Unfortunately, the original plans for the expedition were never realized. Shipboard emergencies had struck both colony ships almost simultaneously as they prepared to approach Windarra. Huge explosions of light and energy had nearly engulfed both.

  The starships had managed to limp down through the atmosphere and each had made barely controlled crash landings, but those landings had been on separate continents. The communication facilities and a great deal of technology had been destroyed. Many lives were lost. Each group of colonists had assumed the other group had perished in the strange explosions.

  The colonists from each ship who had lived through the crash had been faced with the task of surviving without the assistance of the social classes that had been on board the other ship. The result had been some radical changes in the original plans of the philosophers, but the basic outlines of the class and clan system still held on both continents.

  Sariana had learned, however, that those outlines had held much more firmly in the eastern provinces. In the west the social structure had shifted and changed to a major extent. The lines between clans and classes were becoming quite blurred, although the general system was still in place.

  Sariana wrinkled her nose in disapproval as she reminded herself that in the west matters had actually gotten to the point where marriages across class lines were common. Romantic liaisons and outright illicit affairs between people of different social classes were even more common. Sariana could only shake her head over the faltering social structure.

  It wasn’t that her own people were so much more virtuous. They weren’t. But they had the good sense and the social awareness to keep their affairs, like their marriages, within class boundaries.

  The changes in the social system on the western continent had come as quite a shock to the easterners when both groups had finally rediscovered each other a few years before.

  It was ironic that it had been a western invention, the fast, sleek windrigger sailing ships, that had made that rediscovery possible. Contact between the descendants of the original colonists was finally reestablished, but things had changed.

  Each group had managed to survive without the other. That was a lesson that would not soon be forgotten by either contingent. It was clear to the people of each continent that, contrary to the predictions of the social philosophers, they really didn’t need each other. Both groups tended to be equally arrogant and regard the other group as slightly less advanced and certainly less sophisticated than itself. Trade had been established but socially there was still very little mingling.

  It was one thing for a member of an eastern continent clan, to trade with someone from a western clan, quite another to contemplate marriage into that clan. One had to maintain one’s social standards, even if one occasionally found the clever little gadgets devised by the westerners useful or intriguing.

  It was amazing how little easterners knew about westerners, Sariana thought. Take this business of the west having created a whole new social class called Shields. It was a typical piece of western inventiveness. The original social philosophers would have been appalled.

  Sariana stared gloomily out the high arched windows that opened onto a garden of vivid flowers, wondering how she had gotten herself into such a predicament.

  She was still contemplating her fate when the door to her office swung open without any warning. Sariana didn’t swivel around in her chair to see who was standing in the doorway. Her instincts already told her. A ripple of awareness went through her nerve endings and she gritted her teeth.

  “The luck of the day to you, Gryph Chassyn,” she murmured. Ritualistic greetings and manners were useful to fall back on when one was faced with potential disaster, she decided. Above all else, she must maintain control of this situation.

  “Luck to you, lady,” Gryph said carelessly.

  He came silently into the room, the heels of his boots making absolutely no noise on the marble floor. It was a neat trick.

  “You might as well turn around and face me,” he added dryly. “I’ve come to talk business with you. Business is your specialty. I’m told. I believe we have a few matters to discuss before I undertake the task of finding the Avylyns’ precious prisma cutter. I decided it would be much easier if you and I talked about those matters without any Avylyns present.”

  Sariana took a firm grip on herself and bravely swung around to confront him. The morning light streaming through the large, arching windows did not alter the impressions she had gotten the night before. If anything the Shield appeared more formidable than he had the previous evening. Of course, she reminded herself, he was also no longer suffering from the effects of Aunt Perla’s hypnotic drug.

  “How are you feeling?” Sariana inquired politely.

  Gryph’s blue-green eyes flashed with an unreadable expression that was quickly veiled. “Like I’ve spent the night refighting the fire on board The Serendipity.” He smiled mockingly. “Kind of you to ask, lady. Especially considering the fact that you’re the one responsible for my condition last night.”

  That stung. “You very obligingly got drunk all on your own and made an attempt to pick up the first attractive woman who happened to sit down at your table,” Sariana said in clipped tones, telling herself sternly that she should not allow him to bait her this way. “The Avylyns and I merely took advantage of the situation.”

  “Is that right?” Gryph threw himself down onto a long, cushioned bench in front of one window. He sat with his back to the light, his legs spread apart, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He regarded Sariana with an assessing gaze. “How did you know I’d be in that particular tavern at that particular time?”

  Sariana attempted a modest shrug. “I’ve had Bryer watching the most likely taverns on a regular basis for the past couple of weeks. Once we learned there was a real live Shield in town it wasn’t hard to find out where he was hanging out.”

  “I wasn’t trying to hide. Did it ever occur to you to try walking into that tavern yourself last night, sitting down across from me and making your offer in the normal fashion?”

  “Of course not. You had already turned down three polite invitations to do business. There was no reason to think you wouldn’t turn down the fourth,” she said. “I was forced to take desperate measures. It wasn’t as if there was a lot of choice. You Shields seem to have a monopoly on this sort of private mercenary work.”

  He gave her a brief, predatory grin. “No other social classes have shown any desire or ability to go into business against us.”

  “That I can believe. Even members of the town guards don’t take on private investigative assignments. Something tells me you Shields discourage competition.” Sariana sat forward, folding her elbows on the polished desk. “On the other hand, what respectable clan would want its sons growing up to be professional mercenaries? It wasn’t just your price that traumatized the Avylyns. They were actually afraid of you.”

  “A Shield’s reputation is his stock in trade,” Gryph said with patently false modesty. “But last night I got the impression that you were trying your hand at the intimidation and extortion business yourself. Do they teach you things like that in those fancy business universities in Rendezvous!’

  Sariana felt the heat rise in her cheeks. For a few seconds she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m learning here in Serendipity that one must occasionally make certain concessions to the local way of doing things if one wants to get anything done.”

  “What a load of keenshee bird guano,” Gryph retorted pleasantly. “No sane westerner, especially not a respectable clan like the Avylyns, would have dared tried the game you played with me last night. Not unless someone with an incredibly persuasive tongue talked them into it. It would take a real eastern sales exec to do that. You have my full and unreserved admiration.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I always admire professiona
lism when I see it. Tell me, what were you going to do with my weapon kit?”

  Sariana’s gaze jerked back to his. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I didn’t even know what it was, just that it was apparently very important to you.”

  “Oh, it is that,” Gryph assured her far too smoothly. “Very important. Did you think you could hold it or its contents for ransom? Use it to get me to agree to what you wanted?”

  Sariana’s flush deepened. “I was getting desperate,” she mumbled. “Nothing seemed to be going the way I had planned. You hadn’t responded to my requests for a private meeting. The drug hadn’t worked the way it was supposed to. You weren’t being at all cooperative. You even turned down the Avylyns’ offer of social introductions. You’ll never know what it cost them to agree to such an offer, by the way.”

  “I can guess. Fancy clans like the Avylyns sometimes find Shields useful, but they sure as hell wouldn’t want their daughter marrying one. I agree with you. The Avylyns were desperate. But they wouldn’t have had the guts to try drugging me and then stealing my kit.”

  Sariana winced. “As I said, nothing seemed to be working properly last night. I was afraid you would walk out on us as soon as you regained consciousness. But when I touched that pouch I got the feeling you wouldn’t leave the room without it.” She glanced at the leather kit on his belt. The prisma in the lock shimmered slightly, reflecting color from every range of the light spectrum. It drew her, made her want to touch the valuable crystal. Sariana had to force herself to look away from it. “I just wanted to make you calm down and negotiate with me. You were behaving very arrogantly, you know.”

  His eyes gleamed briefly with a combination of amusement and amazement. “And you weren’t?”

  “Definitely not. I was simply trying to forge a business arrangement.”

  Gryph’s teeth flashed again in a smile that held as much menace as humor. Sariana shifted uneasily beneath that smile. She had never met someone who could convey both threat and amusement simultaneously. It was unsettling. Gryph Chassyn was just one more glaring example of the bizarre twist fate and civilization had taken in this wild land.

  “I think we’ll discuss that statement later,” Gryph murmured. “Right now we’d better get down to business.”

  Sariana eyed him warily. “You really are going to work for us?”

  “For you. I thought I made that clear last night.”

  “But it’s the Avylyns who want your services,” Sariana protested.

  “I didn’t hear them asking last night. All I heard was your voice asking for my help. No mistaking that eastern, upper class accent, lady. It was you.”

  “This is ridiculous. What difference does it make whether you work for the Avylyns or for me? The goal is the same.” Sariana hid her flash of anger by reaching for the teapot and pouring herself a second cup. She must stay in control, she reminded herself.

  “The goal might be the same, but there will be one hell of a difference at the end of the job when it comes to collecting my fee.”

  Sariana’s hand trembled and laceleaf tea slopped onto the desk top. Her gaze collided with Gryph’s. “What sort of game are you playing?” she bit out.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Gryph shifted his position, leaning back against the wide window frame and propping one knee up in front of himself. For the first time he looked away from Sariana, focusing on the brilliant flowers in the garden outside. “Tell me about the prisma cutter.”

  Sariana bit her lip, disconcerted. Then common sense told her she was probably better off letting him change the subject. This man could be very unnerving.

  “You know what a prisma cutter is?”

  “Sure. The only kind of gadget that can cut, shape and polish prisma crystal.” Gryph spoke casually.

  “You seem to know more about it than I do,” Sariana said in businesslike tones. “I’d never even heard of prisma, let alone a prisma cutter until I came to Serendipity. At any rate, this cutting tool is vital to the status and prestige of the Avylyn Clan. They’ve held it in trust for each generation from the days of the First Generation. They’re very attached to it. The Avylyns are quite emotional about such things. Given their present precarious financial situation, I’m inclined to agree with them in this instance. They cannot afford to have it known that they have lost the symbol of their leadership in the field of the jewelers’ arts. It must be retrieved at all costs.”

  “Where do you think it went?”

  Sariana hesitated. “The Avylyns suspect it was stolen by a rival clan in the same field. Jasso thinks someone in the Nosorian Clan may be responsible. Apparently they’re a bunch of hotheads over there,” Sariana added wryly. “It’s amusing to hear an Avylyn labeling someone else a hothead. Everyone in the province seems to be hotheaded and emotional.”

  Gryph eyed her. “Maybe you’ll learn something while you’re living among us.”

  “I have already learned a great deal, I assure you,” she retorted. “None of it particularly comforting. Now about this cutter—”

  “You said you don’t know much about prisma,” Gryph interrupted thoughtfully.

  “We don’t have such a crystaline substance on the eastern continent.”

  “Your people were fortunate. You didn’t find any of the ships in your lands, apparently. Or maybe I should say you haven’t found any yet. They’re usually well hidden. If someone doesn’t accidentally trigger one, it can stay buried for years.”

  Sariana frowned in confusion. “What ships?”

  “The prisma crystal ships.” Gryph turned his head to give her an impatient glance. “Didn’t the Avylyns tell you about them?”

  “All I know is that the prisma is extremely rare and extremely valuable. According to the Avylyns there hasn’t been a new deposit of it found in the past fifty years or so.”

  “That’s because there hasn’t been a crystal ship found in fifty years. Prisma is the material the crystal ships and their weapons are made from. It’s rare and almost indestructible. You only get a new supply if you locate a crystal ship. The only thing that can cut prisma is a special cutting tool. Only a few of those tools were ever found inside the ships. No one’s ever discovered a way to cut prisma without one. That makes the tools as valuable as the prisma. By the Lightstorm, lady, you sure are ignorant, aren’t you?”

  Sariana drew a deep breath and spoke through her teeth. Her voice was a little too sweet, but she doubted if Gryph would notice the sarcasm. “I have only been here for a year,” she said. “I am attempting to learn as quickly as I can. You will understand the problems involved, I’m sure, when you stop and think about the rather exotic, not to say bizarre, customs and legends I am forced to deal with on a daily basis here. Kindly tell me a little more about the prisma ships.”

  “Well, well,” Gryph said with great interest, “you have a temper in the mornings, don’t you?”

  “I’m surprised you noticed.” Her voice was sweeter than ever.

  “Oh, I noticed, all right,” he replied. “It’s reassuring to know that being born and bred on the eastern continent didn’t strip you of all of the more interesting emotions. You want to know about crystal ships? I’ll tell you about them.”

  “You know a lot about them?”

  “I exist because of them.”

  Sariana’s eyes widened. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked in amazement.

  Gryph transferred his gaze back to the gardens. “The Shield class was created to deal with the prisma ships. There haven’t been any ships found for fifty years, so there hasn’t been much need for the Shields’ special talents lately. Fortunately, we’re versatile. We’ve made ourselves useful in other areas. We excel at bandit hunting, for example. A useful craft as far as the other social classes are concerned.”

  “But who makes these prisma crystal ships?”

  Gryph shrugged.
“No one knows. They were here on Windarra when the First Generation arrived.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sariana scoffed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Only because your people didn’t run into any of the ships on the eastern continent.”

  “And there haven’t been any such ships discovered on the western continent since the descendants of The Serendipity and The Rendezvous rediscovered each other,” Sariana concluded knowingly. “How very convenient. The legend lives on and no one has to provide any proof. Sounds like a typical western fairy tale to me.”

  “You don’t believe in legends?” Gryph sounded more amused than surprised.

  “I prefer to put my belief in balance sheets, checking accounts and taxes. Legends and ballads are for children.”

  “Maybe the right legend could make you change your mind,” Gryph suggested softly.

  “I doubt it,” she answered firmly. “But I can see that the legend of the crystal ships might serve a useful purpose for your social class. The tales undoubtedly help ensure that the other classes show you some respect. The Avylyns tell me there aren’t many of you Shields. Apparently your limited numbers enable you to keep your prices high. I always admire that sort of sound business planning.”

  Gryph swung his head around to stare at her and Sariana wondered if she’d gone too far. Normally her quick tongue was an asset, but there were times around this man when she got the impression it could get her into trouble. She sat very still for a long moment, waiting for the glitter in his eyes to cool. The tension in the room was breathtaking.

  When Gryph spoke Sariana remembered to breathe again.

  “You have no idea of the risks you’re running around me, do you?” he asked in a voice that was terrifyingly casual.