The bas-relief depicted a stylized sun above a giant, multitrunked malagoy tree—each trunk symbolizing one of the three Zulairian tribes—Obati and Shenti locked in an eternal struggle to rule the planet, jockeying back and forth for thousands of years of bloody history. All the while the Naranti stayed neutral, filling a perpetual peacemakers’ role, as their god, Sanenre, had legendarily decreed. Symbolic of their Clan’s allotted role in the planet’s history, the Naranti trunk was at the center of the tree, supporting the other two.
A skillfully carved herd of three-horned urabu grazed beneath the sheltering arms of the malagoy, the alpha buck depicted in a watchful stance, stone face staring at the occupants of the dais. The image of these legendary creatures, with their sweeping triple horns, was found everywhere on Zulaire, even on the Planetary Lord’s seal. Beloved symbol of the god Sanenre, legendary bearers of good fortune and blessings, the gazellelike animals were extinct now, of course, hunted for the ivory of their sweeping horns.
Lysanda and her betrothed were repeating vows after the priest.
Apparently as bored as Andi was, the youngest attendant at the ceremony, just a toddler really, came across the platform with unsteady steps, reaching for Andi, her favorite playmate of the last few weeks. Missing her nieces and nephews, who lived far away in her own home Sector of the galaxy, Andi had been happy to skip a few adult entertainments to amuse the young ones of the house during her stay.
After a quick hug, the little girl plunked herself at Andi’s feet, leaning against her legs. Pulling the flower garland from her glossy curls, she picked the petals off the blossoms while humming the processional tune off-key. The priest began to wrap up, raising his voice to override the toddler’s song. Andi stared out over the crowd.
Quite a few empty chairs. A surprising number of high-ranking Obati guests had failed to arrive, which had driven the bride’s mother into an angry tirade shortly before the ceremony. The failure of the missing bridesmaid and her family to show up had created another firestorm. Lady Tonkiln had a long memory for social slights.
It’s been an odd summer, that’s for sure. Andi would be glad to see fall arrive, when business always picked up and she could get back to the office, dive into the complexities of intergalactic trading and leave the socializing to others. And decide if it’s time to leave Zulaire for another assignment. Six years is too long to stay on one planet, if I want my next promotion. I wish I didn’t love it here so much.
Of course, no one had expected Planetary Lord Tonkiln to leave the important business of ruling Zulaire for his daughter’s handfasting. He’d be at the formal wedding later in the year, held in the massive shrine at the capital, to accept the Shenti groom’s petition for marriage to Lysanda. His oldest son, Gul, had been scheduled to stand in for the ruler today, but in typical Gul fashion, he hadn’t shown up.
His careless attitude to responsibilities had been one of the reasons Andi had never let their casual, off-and-on-again affair become more serious. Charming as he was, Gul was unreliable.
Glancing along the fringes of the crowd where the invited Shenti guests were sitting, she saw everyone attentive, focusing on the glowing bride and handsome groom.
The Naranti servants clustered at the rear of the outdoor pavilion looked bored. I suppose they just want to get this over with so they can clean up.
Well, me, too. I want to get out of this dress. What a wretched color Lysanda picked! Andi sighed. I’m glad I can wear my own clothing tonight at the reception, when I present the Loxton corporate bride gift.
And still the ceremony continued. The bride gazed soulfully at her fiancé while he knelt, serenading her with a traditional Zulairian love song. As if she hadn’t been making fun of this very part of the ritual less than an hour ago. What a little actress.
This was a coolly negotiated union of the ruling Obati family and an influential Shenti house to further cement everyone’s power. Lysanda and her groom are doing an excellent job of portraying lovebirds for the crowd. Both loving the spotlight. How fortunate he can sing—the family didn’t have to hire someone to carry the tune for him. Andi blinked, turning her full attention back to the couple as her own most favorite moment of the handfasting ceremony arrived—the giving of the bridal shawl. In the old days, she knew, these shawls had been hand-woven, selected by the groom with much care to symbolically enfold his chosen one in his love. Lysanda’s shawl followed current fashion in the capital – machine-made, trimmed with three kinds of lace, the two family crests outlined in semiprecious gems—all about the show, not the emotion. Two attendants carried the unfolded shawl to the groom, displaying the embroidery and jewels for the guests to admire.
Still, it was the most romantic aspect of this particular ceremony. Andi suppressed a somewhat wistful mental picture of an unknown man wrapping her in one of the traditional, simple shawls. She took another deep breath of the flowers’ perfume. What is with me today, all this nostalgia for the dreams I had as a kid? Romance, a husband, children… Traveling around the Sectors doing business for Loxton is the wrong career if I want to settle down. I already made that decision, no looking back, no regrets. Maybe after I make Sector vice president, I’ll decide on a different course. No telling how old she’d be by then.
After adjusting the shawl to her satisfaction, Lysanda leaned toward the groom for a brief kiss before the couple turned to face the applauding audience. Scooping the bored flower girl into her arms, Andi juggled her own flowers, plus the toddler and her tiny basket. Arm in arm with the prominent Shenti man she’d been rushed into the puce dress to accompany, Andi walked down the aisle behind the happy couple, in time to the music.
As soon as the ceremonial party had left the pavilion, Andi searched for a maid or family member to take charge of the toddler. Another of the bride’s attendants, a haughty girl from the capital, brought her the Tonkilns’ youngest son, Sadu, who’d been a restless member of the wedding party too. “Here, you may as well tend them both, outworlder,” the other girl said. “How do boys get so messy?” She turned on her elegant heel and walked away before Andi could protest.
“Hungry,” Sadu proclaimed loudly, tugging at her skirt with one grubby hand.
Lady Tonkiln hurried by. “Oh, good, you have the children, Andi. Thank you.”
“But I should be getting out of this dress, getting ready for the evening’s reception—”
“You know the nurse left suddenly for her village this morning. I’ve no idea why, and she needn’t bother coming back, begging to be rehired.” Lady Tonkiln reached to untangle an errant flower from the girl’s curls. “Do take the children to the house for me, won’t you? The maids can watch them. No one will care if you’re late to the dance as long as you’re in time for the presentation of the gifts.”
And with that barbed insult, her hostess was off to greet more guests before Andi could protest. Shaking her head, she stared after the older woman. Typical. The “overbearing Obati” clan indeed!
Giving Sadu an awkward pat on the shoulder, she tugged him in the direction of the waiting Naranti servants. “All right, Sadu, walk with me and we’ll find Cook. I know I saw her earlier —she can take you both back to the house, get you a snack before you and your cousin here take your naps.”
After handing Sadu and the flower girl over to the family’s genial cook, Andi decided to walk back to the Tonkiln mansion, rather than take the shuttle. She’d had enough of the family and their guests for right now. I need some time by myself. Taking off the too-tight sandals, Andi breathed a sigh of relief and strolled into the forest that surrounded the ceremonial glade. The path was clearly marked, and the hard-packed dirt felt soothing to her abused feet.
When she reached the halfway point, out of sight of both the glade and the house, Andi took a detour to the east to a meadow she’d discovered a few days ago. Heedless of the borrowed dress, which she knew would never be worn again by anyone, Andi hiked the skirt up enough so that she could sit comfortably on the moss un
der a big malagoy tree and relax for a few moments. Leaning her head against the rough trunk, she closed her eyes and listened to the soothing hum of the pollen-gathering insects and birdsongs overhead. Just have to get through this one last reception tonight, and then I can return to the capital. I can do that.
Close to drowsing off in this peaceful spot, Andi suddenly became aware that the meadow had grown quiet. Opening her eyes with a flash of alarm, she found herself staring at a myth come to life.
An entire family of majestic urabu stood in the center of the lush meadow. To Andi’s knowledge, no one had seen a living urabu on Zulaire in hundreds of years.
Behind the proud alpha male were three females, a younger buck showing nubs for horns, and a baby. As if they came just to find me. Andi chuckled at the idea as the buck swung his head in her direction, nodding once. Standing guard, he watched the perimeter of the small meadow as his brood spread out to nibble the dense stand of grass and flowers. From time to time the buck lowered his head to snatch a few mouthfuls of fodder, before going back on the alert. A vivid green, his eyes were fringed by thick, black lashes.
She wasn’t sorry to claim this incredible experience all for herself.
Trotting forward a few paces, the fawn stopped to check on its mother’s whereabouts, then wobbled straight to Andi on spindly legs. Amazed, she held out her hand for it to sniff before stroking the little urabu’s muzzle and playing with the soft, tufted ears. The fawn’s golden-brown pelt was warm velvet under her fingers.
The buck made an impatient huffing sound. Startled, jerking her hand back, Andi watched as the fawn took three awkward jumps, to press against the biggest doe’s flank. Leaving the clearing, the herd bounded off to the northeast in a flowing line, buck first, fawn struggling valiantly to keep up at the end of the procession.
A wave of longing engulfed Andi as they left her. I wish they’d stayed longer. Taking a few tentative steps away from the tree, she peered hopefully into the jungle, but the urabu family had gone on their way without a trace.
With a breathless little laugh, she pinched her forearm. “No, I’m awake all right.” She studied the imprint of the hooves in the rich soil. Crushed, fragrant grass was already springing back to hide the evidence. “When I think how many times I was told the urabu didn’t really exist, or had been hunted to extinction—”
Well, this experience certainly redeemed my day. Frowning at a grass stain as she dusted stray twigs and leaves from her skirt, she shook her head. I’m not telling the Tonkilns about this magical encounter or they’ll be out here hunting the poor things. My secret, my gift from Zulaire’s god.
Thinking of her imperious hosts reminded Andi to check the time. Whistling at how late in the afternoon it had become, she set out in a slow jog, skirt hiked above her knees. At the forest’s edge, she stopped, planning to put her sandals on again. One of the gardener’s legion of young helpers hailed her. Running along the center of the path, he made big summoning gestures. “Miss, miss, you’re wanted at the house!”
“Why all the fuss? Were they afraid I’d gotten lost?” Andi said.
Coming to a halt in front of her, the boy tugged at her sleeve, trying to draw her along the path. “Men have come from the capital for you. Outworld soldiers.”
“Soldiers?” Andi was startled, her heart beating faster. “What do I have to do with the military? There must be a mistake.”
“We must go. The leader of these soldiers, he demands to speak to you.” Lowering his voice, her companion intoned with relish, “At ONCE!” The skinny boy chortled at his imitation of the outworlder’s less-than-exact accent. “He said it’s important, a matter of utmost urgency.”
Maybe something had happened at the office? Or to her boss? But why send the military out here with the message? The capital was hundreds of miles away, yes, but there were excellent comlinks between here and there. Breaking into a run, she covered the ground faster than the gardener’s assistant’s stubbier limbs could carry him.
Leaving the winded lad well behind, Andi sprinted the last few yards of the path, onto the main house’s driveway. Skidding to a stop to catch her breath, she craned for a better look at a pair of military vehicles parked off to the side, between her and the mansion. One was a squat, two-passenger groundcar with an ominous-looking blast cannon mounted on the rear. Behind that was a much larger armored personnel carrier, also bristling with weapons, lights and scanners. Both vehicles were the gray, green and black camouflage design favored by Sectors troops on this planet.
Offworld troops seemed jarringly out of place in this idyllic playground of the Obati elite. I can see why the kid was so excited. Catching her breath, Andi put her shoes on before walking across the driveway.
Four Sectors soldiers sprawled on the blue-green grass beside the vehicles, taking advantage of the shade. Although armed, the men appeared at ease, happy for a break. Lounging against the back of the APC was a hulking Shenti warrior, who gave her a small nod as she drew even with him. Andi didn’t recognize his sub-Clan insignia, which meant he was from the far western reaches of Zulaire, where Loxton didn’t do much trade. What’s he doing with Sectors soldiers? The Shenti wasn’t a prisoner, and he probably wasn’t a guide, not in this half of Zulaire. Western Shenti tended to be superstitious, didn’t travel too far from their sub-Clan boundaries. So why is he here?
Studying the open engine compartment, a tall, lanky sergeant and a corporal bent together over the front flank of the APC.
Probably hearing her footsteps crunch on the gravel, the sergeant laid down his tools and turned to eye her in a friendly but distant manner. “Miss Markriss?”
“Yes. What’s the matter? Has something happened at the Loxton office?” Andi’s heart pounded as she voiced her greatest fear.
“Easy, ma’am, not that I’m aware of. Not exactly.” The sergeant held up a hand to stop her next question. “I’m Sergeant Mitch Wilson. Pleased to meet you.” Automatically, Andi shook the hand he offered. “Captain Deverane is waiting inside to explain the situation. I’m glad you’re here because he has a short fuse this trip.” Hooking his hands in his pockets, tilting his head, the sergeant eyed her up and down. “No one knew where to find you, ma’am. Upset them to admit it, too.”
Lady Tonkiln’s probably irritated at outworld soldiers intruding on her social event, along with everything else that’s happened today. Hands on her hips, she leaned toward him. “It’s no one’s business to monitor my comings and goings. I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Well, you’re here now. Problem solved.” He grinned at her. “The captain wants to get going as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, if this piece of junk holds together long enough to get us back to the capital.” The corporal, who had been looking Andi over from head to toe with more appreciation than the sergeant had showed, kicked the APC’s shielded wheel housing with his heavy combat boot. “It can slag itself then, for all I care.”
“Go on inside, ma’am, please.” The sergeant nodded toward the house. Then his attention switched to the engine and the swearing corporal, who was tugging at something deep in the guts of the APC. Wilson pushed back his hat with his thumb. “Yeah, okay, soldier, we all know anti-grav would be better, but the brass don’t issue high-tech stuff to operators on a backwater planet like this. Find the damn problem before the captain’s ready to leave, because I’m not anxious to tell him we can’t.”
“Might be tomorrow, Sarge. This engine needs a lot of work.” The corporal held out a misshapen part. “I’ll have to recalibrate this for sure.”
“Miss Markriss!”
Hearing the familiar, stentorian voice, Andi flinched and walked away from the APC. Iraku, the Naranti who was chief of household staff for the ruler’s family, stood at the top of the stone stairs, flanked by the massive, carved columns supporting the impressive facade of the “simple” summer dwelling. As Andi toiled up the steps, he steepled his fingers and glared down at her. “Lady Tonkiln has been looking for y
ou. She was most displeased when you disappeared. Not the behavior we expect from a guest in this house.” He sniffed.
Much to her own annoyance, Andi stumbled on the last riser, betrayed by the ill-fitting shoes. Iraku grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling, holding on too long, until Andi jerked herself free. Stepping onto the terraced patio, she moved as far away from the man as she could.
Something about him always sets my teeth on edge. Pompous, officious—as if he was the Planetary Overlord, not a servant.
For a moment, Andi was afraid she’d voiced her dislike out loud. Then Iraku did a jerky half-bow, rubbing his fingers on his robe as if to remove any taint from the contact with her. Biting back a smile at his instinctive reaction, she knew his antipathy toward her was as deep as her loathing of him. Iraku gestured at the stairs. “Polished yesterday. Perhaps the staff was too generous with the wax. My apologies, Miss Markriss. I’ll have the entire job redone, to prevent any further such incidents. It would have been a tragedy if you’d fallen.”
As if you cared. She was sure Iraku would have enjoyed the sight of her taking a header on the stairs. The staff will hate me for having to redo the steps. Massaging her tender elbow, Andi was conscious of the immense strength Iraku had in those long, slender fingers. She resolved to stay well away from him at all times in the future. Thank goodness, the summer will be over soon. “Where’s this officer who’s here to see me?”
“I put him in Lord Tonkiln’s library. Follow me.” Billowing silver and green robes made a graceful circle about the servant as he spun on one foot. Not bothering to see if Andi was behind him, he stalked into the house.
As a neutral Naranti, Iraku was well schooled in dealing with both the tempestuous, demanding highborn Obati and the subordinate Shenti population. He was also supposed to be expert at establishing cordial relations with any stray outworlders, such as her. He must have missed that seminar. Andi glared at Iraku’s back.
Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars Page 145