“A great many things in life don't make sense. That doesn't mean they aren't true."
* * * *
The bazaar ringed the main fountain in the town center, and streamed down offshoot streets. The merchants worked from little booths with striped, multicolored canopies, or from carts or through the front doors of their homes, and a few even spread blankets on the ground where they displayed their wares. When the day grew too hot for movement, much less coherent thought, the merchants closed up shop, either by rolling up their blankets or moving their carts or letting down awnings over the counters of their stands. Everyone slept or retreated to cool rooms to talk and nibble at sweets and sip iced, painfully sweet wine that was only made drinkable by large amounts of water added to every cup.
Everything fascinated Bain. The fountain with its stone sculpture that looked vaguely Human. Caderi told him it was once a woman holding a water jug on her shoulder, centuries ago before the streams of water over her face and body and the jug wore the stone down to smooth obscurity. The many-colored stones paving the streets. The thousand-and-one aromas of food and perfumes, sweet and spicy, sometimes oddly bitter, all mixing together.
The people were all dark-haired and dark-eyed, their skin glossy and tanned dark by the relentless sun. Little boys and girls ran around barefoot, sometimes wearing nothing more than a breechclout or a short cotton dress. Their parents wore loose woven clothes of bright colors that swayed in the nominal breezes and soaked up the sweat drawn out of them by the rising, relentless sun. Everywhere Bain looked, everyone had dark hair and dark eyes. It was odd, seeing only one genotype when he was used to seeing every color of skin and hair and eye, every type of stature.
When he commented on that, Caderi seemed pleased at his perceptiveness. They had returned to the tavern where they had tasted the diswi. Halfway through the day now, they no longer had the dark, cool room to themselves, but that didn't seem to matter to Caderi. Everyone talked in quiet, low voices and some people leaned back in their chairs and slept. Caderi had ordered more wine and this time Lin took a cup, mixed with so much water Bain couldn't tell the difference by looking. He drank a little, cautious about this new experience, and found he didn't particularly like the sweetness with an underlying tingle on his tongue. Caderi watched him with that weighing, testing expression again. It made Bain nervous, as if he were taking a test he knew nothing about. He mentioned the racial sameness, just to have something to say.
“Yes, we are all one genotype here in Nuridad,” Caderi said, nodding. “There are a few cities where the people are fair-haired and slender. We tend to stick to our own cities and people. Maybe centuries ago we were many different races, but we have melded together and perhaps bred out the uniqueness."
“Oh, please,” Lin groaned. “Bain, I should have warned you. Don't get Caderi started on anything having to do with genetics and breeding and talents and anything even remotely relating to that."
“Why?” Bain looked back and forth between Caderi and Lin and studied their faces for an answer.
“Answer me one question, Mordor,” she said, before the man could open his mouth. “Do you have any daughters?"
“No, of course not. The Caderi have had no daughters in nearly two hundred years.” The man smiled, eyes sparkling. For a moment, he looked hungry. That was the only way Bain could describe the expression that flickered across his face. “A daughter, now—that would be something worth breeding for."
“See what I told you?” Lin shook her head.
“Why did you ask—” Bain began.
“I was worried Caderi would try to marry you to one of his daughters while we were here. That's one less worry to bother me.” She mimed wiping worried sweat off her forehead. Caderi glared at her and she met his eyes for many long moments, until they both grinned and released a few chuckles.
“I'm too young to get married.” Now Bain felt completely lost.
“No one is ever too young to consider the future,” Caderi said.
“There's the future, and there's a dynasty,” Lin said. “I had no intention of being part of a dynasty and knowing my grandchildren would go up against the Commonwealth's combined military might."
“No one attacks Spacers, Lin."
“If they were Caderi, eventually someone would feel duty bound to fight them.” She grinned, despite the sour bite of her voice and words.
Now Bain felt sick again. He understood, finally, what they were talking about.
Caderi had wanted Lin to marry him, a long time ago. She had refused. For some reason, they were still friends and still arguing—in a friendly way—over what might have happened.
Bain remembered his new insight when Caderi took them by shuttle-jet to his estate, an hour's flight from the city. It took them ten minutes to fly over a large body of water that glistened deep blue-green, with silver highlights, in the late afternoon light.
“Is that a sea, or is that a lake?” Caderi said, turning from the shuttle-jet's controls to look at Bain.
“I don't know,” the boy said. “I've never seen a sea before."
“Your kinswoman is neglecting your education."
“Give him time, Mordor.” Lin twisted around in her seat for a better view. “There are literally hundreds of colonies out there and millions of cities, and very few spaceports are near the coast. How is he going to see the sea, or an ocean for that matter, if we're planet-hopping as fast as common sense will let us?"
“Yes, that's right—the Commonwealth is fighting a war. Poor, poor Commonwealth.” Caderi turned back to his controls. Bain didn't like the crooked smile the man wore.
“If we fall to the Mashrami, the Conclave is next. You people don't stand a chance, just because you won't work together."
“We cooperate for the important things—"
“Like making a profit,” she said, almost biting the words off.
“Is it profitable to let aliens invade our space and attack our ships? I'm sure the Conclave will be able to defeat these Mashrami. If the Commonwealth doesn't. According to contacts in the military, you won't have to worry about the Mashrami for much longer."
“Oh? Where did you hear that?"
“Shame, Lin.” Caderi chuckled. “If I revealed my sources, you would feel duty bound to tell the military and root out my spies. Then what would happen to me?"
“You'd be a more honest man, less of a threat, and in need of fewer guards and weapons.” Lin smiled and shook her head as she spoke.
“That's no fun. Ah, here we are.” He gestured at a long strip of cleared land behind a complex that spread out across the rolling landscape.
That's a house? Bain wondered. He had seen spaceports that took up less ground.
Red and gold stone, single-story buildings with black tile roofs stood out in sharp contrast to the green, grassy landscape. Paths of crushed white stone led everywhere across the estate, to over a dozen outbuildings and down to a dock on the edge of the sea. Bain leaned against the tiny window next to his seat and stared. He continued staring as servants ran from the house to greet the shuttle. He stared, but managed to keep his mouth from falling open, as a servant escorted him to a guest room to wash up before dinner. The guest room was larger than the entire bridge of Sunsinger.
* * * *
Dinner was in one of the inner courtyards, a triangular patio open to the sky and enclosed by house on all three sides. It was filled with plants; trees and vines trailing among them and tall flowers that filled the air with sweet perfume almost strong enough to overpower the spicy aromas of their dinner.
It was just the three of them at a small table. More dishes than Bain could count sat on a four-tiered rack, set up so they could serve themselves without the presence of servants. Bain tasted the few dishes he thought he recognized, and waited to see what Lin ate before trying anything else. He ate slowly, listening to Lin and Caderi talk about former times and mutual friends.
As far as he could tell, Lin wasn't about to give up her rovi
ng life in space and marry Caderi.
What surprised him was that the man talked easily about the plans Lin had ruined.
“It would have been glorious, Spacers with Caderi blood, exploring the uncharted reaches of the galaxy and then the universe.” Caderi sat back, smiling, eyes glinting with what Bain thought was mischief, not evil. “All I needed was one Spacer to join our family line. You know the saying, Lin. Spacer blood breeds true.” He sipped at his wine and flicked a glance at Bain for the first time in over an hour. “Too bad your kinsman wasn't a girl."
“Then I wouldn't have come anywhere near Erenon until ‘she’ was grown and married,” Lin retorted. She picked up her cup of tart blue fruit juice and toasted him.
Bain smiled, noticing again that Lin avoided the wine. He reminded himself of Lin's words—Caderi was a good host, but not to be trusted.
“Well, perhaps Bain's daughter will consider one of my grandsons. Or sons. My wife has been dead nearly five years, so it's time to start looking for another.” He shrugged and his grin widened a little at Lin's sigh of pure exasperation.
“Thank Fi'in I'm too old for that,” she muttered.
“You're never too old, Lin."
“Too old to be a broodmare for your schemes, Mordor. Besides, what would Haddan say if you took another wife and bred a few brothers as his rivals?"
“Just because he's my firstborn doesn't mean he's my heir. The best Caderi for the job inherits."
“What happens to the others?” Bain asked.
“They'll have to fend for themselves.” Caderi stabbed at a round little cheese with the sharp, tiny knife sitting on his bread plate. The action made Bain shiver.
Bain shivered again, an hour later, when he wandered down to the docks by himself to look at the boats. Lin and Caderi were somewhere up by the stables. Caderi insisted on giving them the grand tour, but Bain's head hurt from too much sun and heat and too many new scents and sights. He didn't like Caderi's voice. Something about it grated on his nerves. Bain was attracted to the soft lapping of the waves and the silver ripples of moonlight on the water. He stood on the docks and tried to forget Caderi's careless, but accurate stab at the cheese.
“Who are you?” a deep voice asked from the shadows on the other side of the dock.
Bain crossed the wide stone platform and looked down. A shallow sailing boat bobbed in the gentle waves and a young man sat in the prow. A knife flashed in the moonlight and a shower of silver flew through the air. Bain swallowed hard, feeling his supper try to come up his throat, when he realized the flash of silver was a fish the young man was gutting and scaling. It wasn't the fish guts that bothered him, but the viciousness of the man's movements, and the tight, satisfied smile he wore as he worked the knife through the fish's body.
“Bain—Chobainian Kern,” he said. Bain started to hold out his hand to shake, then thought better of it.
“What are you doing here?” It wasn't a question of curiosity, but of challenge. The man stayed in the shadows, little more than a dark figure; no details of eyes or hair or face visible. He had wide shoulders and he looked very strong to Bain's reckoning.
“Master Caderi invited—my captain and me for dinner."
“Captain? You're a Spacer? A little boy like you?” He guffawed and flung a handful of fish guts far out into the dark, moon-spotted water. Bain had a sure feeling the man would like to throw him into the water.
“Captain Fieran is my kinswoman. She's training me. I'll take over Sunsinger someday.” Bain knew he was boasting, but he didn't care. He didn't like this man. There was something dangerous about him that made chills crawl up his back.
“Captain Lin is here?” He stood up, rocking the boat a little. Standing brought him into the moonlight, revealing a man with thick black curls falling to his shoulders, a short beard and dark, angry-flashing eyes. He wore no shirt, and in the silvery moonlight his dark, hairy chest and shoulders looked slightly sunburned.
“You're Haddan Caderi, aren't you?” Bain said, struck by the resemblance between this man and Master Caderi.
“Unfortunately,” he growled.
“That's what I say, at least twice a day,” Caderi said, emerging from the darkness with Lin a few steps behind. He grinned at his son. Haddan returned the expression and chuckled.
Bain didn't think there was anything funny about their smiles or laughter.
“I thought you were going to be out camping and fishing for another week,” Caderi continued. He stepped down to the edge of the dock and looked at the haul of fish in the baskets in the boat.
“Dryessa couldn't meet me,” Haddan growled. He settled down on the bench again, after casting one quick glance in Lin's direction.
“Stop encouraging that girl, son. She'll expect you to marry her. She's not good enough for you."
“For me, or to mother the next generation of Caderi?” He picked up another fish and started cleaning it, using savage sweeps of the knife.
Lin beckoned, just a flash of moonlight on the silver bracelet she wore. Bain slid around Caderi and hurried to her side. She tilted her head toward the house and he followed when she started walking.
The sound of the Caderi voices, father and son, grew muted after twenty steps. Lin's stiff-legged stride relaxed a little, but she still moved quickly and quietly and Bain nearly had to hurry to keep up.
“Thank Fi'in, I didn't marry him,” Lin whispered. She glanced at Bain and winked. “Can you imagine little me trying to beat some manners and common sense into that hulking brute if he were my son?"
“I think you could do it,” Bain said quickly.
“With you believing in me, I probably could.” She chuckled. “I think I'll turn down Mordor's offer of a week's vacation here. The tension is too high a price. We'll hitch a ride back to Sunsinger with the cargo shuttle."
“Cargo?"
“You didn't think I'd come all this way to Erenon without something to bring back to the Commonwealth, did you? This planet has some remarkably potent medicinal plants that grow like weeds. I think the less educated probably consider them weeds, since they require some pretty sophisticated processing.... “She sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I forget sometimes what a rarity you are, Bain."
“Huh?"
“You are special. Not just because you're my kinsman and crew and the best student I ever had. You're polite, you have more common sense than many adults I've run into, and you care. You've also only seen a tiny fraction of the evil done to people in this universe. An innocent mind and heart is a great treasure. Mordor was a bad influence on me. I lost a great deal of my innocence when my parents died, and Ganfer and I struggled so long to make it back to civilized space. Sometimes, I think Mordor took the rest of it."
“Did he hurt you? I figured out that he wanted to marry you. He's still mad over that, I think,” Bain hurried on.
“Well, I flatter myself that he wanted me in particular, but the Caderi clan has a vision of being rulers in space. They see having their own Spacers, bound to them by blood ties, as part of that plan. Caderi is smart in that he won't trust power to anyone but his own family—so he has to breed his own Spacers. We keep track of our own, and we share news, and as soon as I figured out what he was trying to do, I sent the word out. No woman Spacer comes near this planet without a full complement of crew and kin to protect her.” She sighed. They reached the flight of steps leading into the house. Lin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and led the way around the outside of the house. “I wouldn't put it past Mordor to kidnap a Spacer woman and harvest one or both of her ovaries. Computerized wombs are becoming very popular among the rich and powerful in the Conclave. It would be easy for him to breed a whole race of Caderi Spacers."
“But—you only have me."
“I'm a special case, Bain. Our bond of friendship keeps Mordor from hurting me. He would lose face with his people if he did that. And ... I can't have children. The physical deprivation of living on the ship, with only Ganfer for com
pany for so many years ... and then I had an accident about twenty years ago. I'm useless to the Caderi plan."
“Do they know?"
“No.” She chuckled. “Here we are. See, there's the shuttle, almost half loaded."
Lin pointed out a blot of light and movement far across the landing field behind the estate. Bain squinted and strained his eyes and could just make out moving figures, carrying crates to the lit interior of a cargo shuttle.
“I think this is my last trip to Erenon, Bain. I brought you here to make a link between you and Caderi, just in case."
“You're not angry that he wanted to use you for breeding?"
“Why should I be? I have too much common sense to hope for romance. Maybe ... maybe I was a little flattered that anyone saw some worth in me. Besides.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders and whispered, “I like teasing him."
“I noticed."
Lin laughed. She squeezed his shoulders, then shook him once and let him go.
Caderi made no effort to catch up with them before they launched, to fly back to the spaceport. Lin left a message for him, but Bain had a feeling that she didn't expect Caderi to get the message. The flight was quiet. The pilot wasn't talkative and Lin wrapped herself in her own thoughts and looked out the window as they flew over the lake and city. Bain nearly fell asleep by the time they landed.
The crew loaded Sunsinger's hold with the same speed and silence they had used to load the shuttle. Bain stood in the hatch of the access tube to the bridge, and watched the bare-chested, dark-skinned men work. He didn't offer to help, as he had with most spaceport crews. There was something about these people on Erenon that made him feel uneasy; especially the people who worked for Mordor Caderi.
* * *
Chapter Six
“Now that we're away,” Lin said, “I have something important to tell you. I waited until after you met Mordor, because I didn't know if you could control your reactions to him if you knew. Remember,” she said with a smile, “you are still somewhat innocent in heart and mind."
The Lady And the Order [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 4] Page 6