by Kate Elliott
Jamsetji glanced up at Charles and shook his head but otherwise did not stir. A chime shattered their silence. The transparent wall sealed down across the balcony behind Charles. Jamsetji rose and moved aside so Charles could sit down at his desk.
A seam in the tiled wall peeled open, and Suzanne walked in, followed by four Chapalii. One was Hon Echido, flushed blue with distress. Two were also of the merchant class, by their robes, but they wore the wrist and neck torque of the Office of Protocol. And the fourth Chapalii—
Charles almost stood up. As quickly, he decided against it. “Tai-en,” he said, and inclined his head the merest degree, acknowledging an equal.
“Tai Charles,” said the duke. He was tall, awkwardly thin, and his skin was dead white.
Suzanne bowed to the precise degree. “Tai Charles,” she said in Anglais, “this is the Tai-en Naroshi Toraokii. He has come from Chapal with these officers from Protocol to arraign this fugitive member of the family Keinaba, whose name has been stained with dishonor and so must vanish from the sight of the emperor.”
Charles rose because he judged that it was now polite to do so, and answer enough to Suzanne’s words.
The Tai-en Naroshi examined the chamber, the tiled wall, the sweep of balcony, the sheen of the desktop, and, briefly, the still, silent figure of Jamsetji, waiting quietly at Charles’s right. Then he inclined his head toward Charles as to an equal, and spoke.
When he was finished, Suzanne translated. “The Tai-en states that if his honored peer desires a translation circuit to be installed, he can arrange for such, allowing the females of his house to return to their scholarly studies without having to waste their talents and valuable time translating mere words.”
“My honored peer is generous. I will consider his offer with great pleasure.”
Suzanne’s mouth quirked up, not into a smile, not quite, and she repeated his words to Naroshi. What he thought of them it was impossible to tell. Colors tinted the skin of the two Protocol officers. Echido was still flushed blue. Naroshi remained as pale as ice. He spoke again.
“The Tai-en states that he wishes to relieve his honored peer of the burden of the presence of this ke, this low one.” Suzanne glanced at Echido. The merchant clutched his hands together, saying nothing with them at all. “The rite of extinction has been completed for all of the possessions of the princely house that no longer exists, except for Keinaba. The emperor is restless that this matter remains unresolved. Thus, peace cannot be achieved until this ke is returned and his name obliterated with his family’s.”
“It is indeed benevolent of my honored peer to consider taking this burden from me.” Charles waited while Suzanne translated, and then he looked directly at the two Protocol Officers. “Did Keinaba take part in the offense that has tainted all who owed allegiance to that princely house?”
Naroshi blinked, but that was his only reaction.
Both officers bowed. One spoke at length, and Suzanne translated, but in Ophiuchi-Sei-ah-nai. “Charles, he basically says that whatever breach of protocol, whatever conspiracy, the prince and dukes and lords were involved in went no lower than that. But, of course, the merchants and all of their stewards and artisans are dishonored by the association. Everything, all their wealth, all their holdings, will revert to the emperor to be dispensed back by him to whatever princes he favors right now.”
“I did a wee bit of checking,” said Jamsetji in a low voice, in the same language. “It cleared with what we thought. Given the information we have and our ability to calculate their markers of wealth, that princely house and holdings was the richest, or among the richest, in the empire.”
“Not least because of Keinaba,” replied Charles, also in Ophiuchi-Sei. “Yet I have a dispensation from the emperor’s hand. Yes, I see. I wonder if this is a coincidence or a test?” But his eyes had lit already. It had been too long since he had faced a real challenge.
In Anglais, he said, “Tell my honored peer that I have taken in the loyalty of Keinaba.” Suzanne translated.
The Protocol officers flushed a sickly hue of violet. Echido paled, and his hands rewove themselves into Merchant’s Bounty.
Not a flicker of color tainted Naroshi’s skin. His chin tilted the slightest degree before he spoke.
“The Tai-en states that he cannot act on this matter, merely do as his duty instructs: that is, return the merchant in question to the emperor. If his honored peer wishes to accompany him so as to bring this matter forward to the emperor’s discretion, he would be pleased to offer him passage on his ship back to Chapal.”
“My honored peer is munificent. I accept and will be pleased to accompany him to Chapal.”
Naroshi inclined his head. He was gratified at the Tai-en’s acceptance. His skin stayed white. They exchanged a few more compliments, a few last pleasantries, and then Naroshi took his leave. The Protocol officers begged leave to follow him, and Echido bowed as servant to master, to Charles, and accepted their escort. His skin was paler than theirs, as if he felt secure that he and his family would be spared. It was still not as dead pale as the duke’s had been. They left the room to silence.
“Goddess in Heaven and Earth,” swore Suzanne. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“I think the time is right,” said Charles softly. “I think it is something I had better do. It gives us a foothold in the cliff, rather than that bare toe’s width of ledge we’re clinging to now. What do you make of Naroshi? Have I made an enemy or an ally in that one? My God, he had exceptional facial control. Jamsetji, dig up everything you can about the Toraokii dukedom.” Charles moved to one side so that Jamsetji could sit down at his desk.
“But, Charles.” Suzanne marched over to the desk and set her palms down on it, leaning on them, glaring up into his face. “What about Tess?”
“Suzanne, what can I do? If she’s on Rhui, Marco can find her.”
“What if she’s in danger? If she’s injured? Captured? Being held prisoner? What if she’s dead?”
“Must I remind you that in bitter political terms Tess is expendable? Chapalii law allows for me to adopt an heir, who will then be as legal as an heir of my blood. It’s been suggested by the emperor himself, in order that I might have a proper male heir.”
“We’re not talking political terms, Charles. We’re talking about your sister.”
“Suzanne, you may take it for granted that I love my sister.” He kept his voice as even as a Chapalii voice, revealing nothing. “You may be sure that if she comes to harm through Chapalii machinations, those responsible will suffer for it. If I have the power to act against them. But I can do nothing for her here. We must grasp the opportunity that presents itself. Keinaba is rich. Through their shipping we will have ties and access to every port and every planet and every system, and, by God, every back door that merchants squeeze through, in imperial space. We can’t afford to lose that chance.”
Suzanne pushed herself up and spun away to walk out onto the balcony. The transparent wall peeled away to allow her access, and shut behind her, to protect the office from the beating rain and the skirling wind. The tide was out. The tules lay flat against the muddy shallows, pressed down by the gale. Clouds roiled above, dark and turbulent.
Charles watched her for a moment, and one moment only, and then he turned and walked to the side room to pack what few things he needed for the journey. The seal stood open between the office and the little chamber.
“Richard and Tomaszio can arrange whatever formal items I’ll need,” said Charles over his shoulder. “And a message to Cara, in Jeds, to let her know what’s happened. She can forward anything to Marco. He’ll have to act on his own for now.”
Jamsetji snorted. “Always does, that one,” he said to the air. “Rich and Tomas will go with you, as always. Who else?”
“Suzanne, of course. I need her. That’s all. If this falls out as I hope, we’ll have a whole Chapalii merchant house at our disposal. My God, think of it, Jamsetji. Think what we can do
with that.” He went in to the efficiency, and the wall sealed shut behind him.
Jamsetji grinned at the first trickle of information scrolling up on the desk. “Maybe the long haul ain’t going to be so damned long.”
Suzanne came in from the balcony, soaked and still angry. “Sweet Goddess, what a storm.” She glared at Jamsetji. “What are you smiling about? What if Tess is down on Rhui in the middle of a storm like that?”
“You worry too much, young woman. And the truth is,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “you don’t trust her any better than her own brother does. Not really. Not to take care of herself. But I’m betting she can.”
“Can take care of herself, or find someone to take care of her? Well, I cursed well hope you’re right.” Suzanne cast one last, reproachful glance toward Charles, who emerged from the efficiency with his hands full of bottles and bits. “I’ll go get ready,” she said sourly, and stalked away to the far wall. The tiling peeled open to let her through.
A soft knock on the door woke Tess. She started up. Sun shone in through the window and she knew it was late, midmorning, perhaps. She grabbed for her saber as the door opened, but it was only Vladimir.
“Good morning,” she said, suddenly embarrassed to be found sleeping in Ilya’s bed.
He did not look at her. “Here’s some food and water.” He set a tray down on the table and retreated to the door.
“Thank you.” His sullen expression did not alter. “Vladimir, where is Bakhtiian?”
His gaze roamed the chamber, coming to rest finally on Ilya’s saddlebags, slung casually over the endpost. “He’ll be back. I’ll wait outside until you’re ready to go wash.” He left.
She straightened her clothing and put on her boots and then ate and drank a little, and went to the door. It opened before she reached it, and Vladimir gestured her outside.
She hesitated. “But—”
“It’s safe. Mother Avdotya has taken the khepellis to the sacred pool, with ten of the jahar for escort. Come on.” He sounded peevish as he said it.
Probably, Tess thought, as she followed him to the chamber with the hot springs, he wished that Ishii had managed to kill her. It was impossible to truly enjoy the luxury of the hot springs but equally impossible not to linger a little too long. Vladimir finally tapped impatiently on the door, and she dried off hurriedly and dressed.
Back in the room, Vladimir paused by the door. “Are you really going back to Jheds?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He looked so comically relieved that she chuckled. “You may laugh,” he said with unexpected fury. “You have family. You have a place given to you. Ilya is all I have. Do you think a girl like Elena wants an orphan for a husband?”
“I’m an orphan, too, Vladimir. My parents died over twelve years ago. But it’s true, I do have a brother.”
“Oh, the one in Jheds. What do I care about Jheds? I have been riding with the tribe for two years now. I’m still nothing but an orphan to them. Ilya’s pet. But you—you were there ten days, and Mother Orzhekov gifted you her own daughter’s tent.”
Voices sounded from the hall. Vladimir had been red; now he turned white. The door opened, and Bakhtiian appeared.
“Leave us,” he said. Vladimir stared straight into Tess’s eyes, his mouth a bitter line. “Vladi,” said Ilya.
The young man glanced at Ilya and stalked out of the room, shoulders taut. Ilya raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and walked over to the table to sit on its edge. One booted leg dangled elegantly.
Then his reinforcements arrived. The usual ones, of course: Josef promptly sat down on the floor, Niko sat beside Tess on the bed, and Tasha shut the door behind him and stood blocking it. Tess blushed.
“Well,” said Ilya, and she realized that he was a little embarrassed by this situation as well.
Niko rescued them. “One of the khepelli is indeed missing. We can find no trace of him.”
“The one missing,” said Ilya, taking charge again, “is the one you met last night. The same one you met with in the garden yesterday.”
“Ishii killed him.” Tess felt the force of all their gazes on her.
“For betraying his own kind?”
“Yes. No. Yes, for breaking his loyalty to Ishii, but really, he killed him for men betraying me in turn. It was Garii who alerted Ishii that we had gone—” She shrugged.
“To this secret room which I could not find, even last night when I returned there. I see. This gives me rather more respect for Lord Ishii. One betrayal might betoken a real change of heart, but two—” All four men shook their heads. “Mother Avdotya also noticed the missing pilgrim but she will not pursue those who are not bound by the laws of the jaran. There, it seems, the matter ends.”
“But what about Tess?” asked Niko. “If Ishii would murder one of his own men, then I must believe that she is truly in danger as well.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Ilya’s tone was slightly mocking. “I think we will have to seek Veselov’s aid.”
“Veselov!” This from Tasha.
“To separate Soerensen from the pilgrims means we must split the jahar. Obviously, with khaja lands to ride through, and Dmitri Mikhailov still somewhere behind us, that would be idiotic. I propose we leave Tess and a few of the riders here at the shrine, where it is safe, and with the rest ride to Veselov’s tribe and ask Veselov to send a portion of his jahar to escort her to the coast. We will ride ahead with the khepellis, see them to their ship, collect our horses, and wait for the others there.”
“What if the khepelli decide to kill all of you?” Tess asked.
“Is this relic, and your death, so valuable to them?”
“It might be.”
He smiled. “That is why you will write a letter to your brother that explains—briefly—the situation. As soon as it is done, Josef will ride ahead. With three horses, he will make good time.”
“Won’t that be dangerous?”
Josef grinned. “I’ve done rasher things in my youth. I speak the khaja tongues well enough to get by. And I think I am a good judge of men’s hearts.”
“I suppose that is why you joined up with Bakhtiian?”
All four men laughed.
“Did Yuri tell you that he is the only man in my jahar not born or married into our tribe?” Ilya asked. “Well, I cannot answer to that accusation.” He tilted his head to one side, smiling, a surprisingly youthful, sweet expression. It made her so uncomfortable that she stood up and gazed out the window. He coughed. The other men shifted. “In any case,” he said finally, “if we’re all killed, at least your brother will know of it.”
Through the window she saw part of the garden, thick lines of bushes, a white statue half-hidden behind a tree. It was quiet. From somewhere in the distance she heard the sound of singing.
“Who will stay?” asked Niko.
“Yuri and Mikhal,” said Ilya immediately. “Two more, I think. Konstans, perhaps.”
“Kirill,” said Josef. “That is my recommendation.”
There was a silence. Tess could not bring herself to turn around.
“Mine, too,” said Tasha. “You must leave someone who can take command of whichever part of Veselov’s jahar will be sent.”
“Then you, Tadheus,” said Ilya stiffly.
“Ilya,” said Niko, “you must eventually give Kirill the responsibility he deserves.”
A longer silence. Outside, a man’s voice shouted, a cheerful yell, followed by women’s laughter.
“Very well. Kirill, Konstans, Yuri, and Mikhal.”
“I’ll go prepare, then,” said Josef. Tasha made some similar excuse, and Niko left after them.
She turned. Ilya still sat on the table. He was looking at his hands. He glanced up at her.
“You’ll need paper.” He crossed the room to rummage in his saddlebags, lifting out a tube of soft cloth and the leather-bound Newton.
“Ilya—” she began, but he took them back to the table and set them down. Unwrap
ping the cloth, he revealed a quill and a tightly sealed pot of ink. Then he slipped his knife out of its sheath and turned the Newton open to the flyleaf. She could not bear to watch. In a moment, he said, “Would you like me to wait outside?”
“No.” She came over to the table. He retreated to the bed with the precious book and sat cradling it in his hands while she bent down to compose the letter.
Charles. I am stranded on Rhui but am currently safe. The Chapalii have sent a clandestine expedition to Rhui which I stumbled across and followed: the Tai-en Mushai—yes, that one—once possessed this planet, and he left a palace and computer banks which contain all the information he gathered which led to the downfall of the First Empire. It really happened! I now possess in storage the contents of his files. I am traveling for Jeds now, but the Chapalii are still a threat to me. If something should happen to me, if you should receive this letter and I do not arrive in Jeds from the north by ship within a month or at most two, then look for the people called the jaran, who live on the northern plains, and specifically for a man named Ilyakoria Bakhtiian. They have sheltered me. Here she hesitated, and then simply signed her name.
She stood, blew on the fine, marbled paper now covered with her scrawl, and offered it to him. He took it.
“I will keep the relic until we meet at the coast.” He gathered up his quill and ink, packed everything neatly away into his saddlebags, and swung the packs onto the table. He did not look at her. She did not look at him.
“What will you tell the pilgrims?” she asked finally. “Won’t they be suspicious? I don’t want you to lose your horses.”
“I’ll tell them—” He paused. An odd note to his voice made her look up at him. Seeing her gaze, he smiled sardonically. “I’ll tell them that you married me and are now my wife and so will be staying here.”
“Don’t tell them that!” He blinked away from her vehemence, his expression shuttered. “I didn’t mean…” How could she explain that the Chapalii would take such an explanation very seriously indeed, and that it would cause enormous, negative repercussions for Charles. “I just meant because marriage is not a light thing for the khepellis, that—”