Shadow of the Swan (Book Two of the Phoenix Legacy)

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Shadow of the Swan (Book Two of the Phoenix Legacy) Page 31

by Wren, M. K.


  “But she didn’t pull all that out of nothing, Bruno, and I doubt it came to her in a vision. To my knowledge, she’s not prone to religious ecstasies.”

  Another barb; Selasis had little patience with Hawkwood’s religious orthodoxy, and Karlis relished the flicker of disapproval in those pale, unblinking eyes.

  “No, my lord,” Hawkwood replied levelly, “she pulled it out of the Outside, obviously, and her source will have to be identified. However, there’s one thing that makes me think it may be a bluff. If she does have this proof, why didn’t she make it available to her father so he could initiate a Board of Succession investigation before the wedding?”

  Selasis’s eyes flashed. “That occurred to me, Bruno. Damn it, it must be a bluff.”

  “It may be. However, it’s possible that she’s not actually in possession of the death testament at this time, but could gain access to it in the future—if it exists, and we can’t assume it doesn’t. I’ll put my agents in the Outside to work on that immediately.”

  “Monetary incentives are unlimited in this matter, Bruno. I’d empty my coffers to—” He frowned at the sound of the door chime, checked the vis-screen, then said into the intercom, “Dr. Lazet, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Karlis frowned at the closed doors. Lazet’s chief claim to fame, and his exorbitant salary, was his skill as a plastic surgeon.

  Selasis made no reference to the interruption as he went on. “Another thing, Bruno, I want to know if Loren Eliseer is involved in this scheme of Adrien’s. And if he is—” His hands curled into powerful fists, but after a moment relaxed. “One mustn’t anticipate. That stretches the Writ of Destiny, doesn’t it, Bruno?”

  Another barb, but Hawkwood only said calmly, “No, my lord, it leads one off a True Path into the thorns of Chaos.”

  Selasis laughed softly. “No doubt. At any rate, Eliseer isn’t my primary concern. Adrien is. Find her. Bruno. I’m helpless, entirely at her mercy, until she’s found, and if she expected me to tolerate this sort of blackmail, she made an error. I won’t have this knife at my back, and the only way to be rid of it, is to be rid of her. Find her, Bruno!”

  “If it can be done, my lord, I will do it. And I’ll pursue the investigation personally. I plan to leave for Helen by midday.”

  “That’s gratifying. But until you do find her, I have something of a problem. I’m not ready to announce to the worlds that Karlis’s bride slipped away from him on their wedding night. Under other circumstances, I’d simply announce her death, but I can’t do that when she might suddenly come back to life—with Monig’s death testament in her hand. So the Lady Adrien must be kept alive in the bosom of her new husband’s family until you find her, and I can safely announce her death.”

  Hawkwood even smiled by a millimeter. “I see. Dr. Lazet has been entrusted with this life-preserving mission, then?”

  Karlis didn’t see, and it annoyed him, that air of conspiracy between them. But he didn’t ask any questions.

  “So he has, Bruno,” Selasis replied. Then, after a thoughtful pause, “What about Lazet? I’ve never found it necessary to trust him with anything so critical before.”

  “He can be trusted. He’s presently taking ten milligrams of eladane a day simply to avoid withdrawal symptoms, which are. I understand, quite painful.” Then, perhaps anticipating Selasis, he added, “But with Dr. Monig’s escape in mind, I’ll watch Lazet closely. His addiction, of course, gives me an advantage I didn’t have with Monig.”

  Selasis smiled. “I’ve never known you to make the same error twice, Bruno. I hope you continue to maintain that record.” Then he pressed a button on the console. “Dr. Lazet, you may come in, and bring the girl.”

  Karlis frowned toward the doors as they opened. He only glanced at Lazet, whose round, flaccid face displayed a little less euphoria than usual. It was the young woman following him who occupied Karlis’s full attention.

  A Bond, dressed in shapeless pants and tabard so dirty the House colors were nearly unidentifiable, she shuffled behind Lazet, head down, sending darting glances from under a mat of unkempt dark hair. Karlis’s lip curled. Lazet might at least have bathed her before bringing her here.

  Both Hawkwood and Selasis studied the girl with an intentness that made no sense to Karlis. Finally, when the doctor was two meters from Selasis’s chair, he stopped and bowed deeply, then with a quarter turn, bowed again to Karlis. The girl emulated him nervously, adding a bow for Hawkwood. Her dark eyes shifted constantly from him to her Lords, then to Lazet, but under the evident fear was a peculiarly avid glint, and Karlis thought disgustedly that Lazet had best watch any loose valuables on his person.

  Selasis said pleasantly, “Well, Dr. Lazet, I see you’ve found a candidate.”

  “An excellent candidate, my lord. I was amazed to find such a good one so quickly.” He turned and prodded the girl a few steps closer. “You see, my lord, height and weight are nearly perfect. She’s only six centimeters taller, and a kilo heavier. And the facial structure—” He pushed the girl’s matted hair back from her face with one hand, the other grasping her chin, turning her head from side to side. “It’s beautiful, my lord. No epicanthic fold, of course, but that’s a simple matter. The zygomatic arch is a bit wide, but the worst problems—the nose and upper lip—are easily remedied surgically. Hair and eye color are even a close match.” He took her hands and turned them over with a fastidious frown. “As for her hands . . . well, perhaps that can be remedied cosmetically. Try to picture—stand up straight, Elda—picture her with her hair properly coiffed, brows trimmed, hands manicured, and suitable clothing, of course.”

  Selasis tilted his head, still examining the girl.

  “So, Doctor, you’re satisfied that the metamorphosis is feasible.”

  “Oh. my lord, indeed I am.”

  “Yes. Have you talked to her?”

  Lazet’s mouth sagged open. “About—about the—uh, metamorphosis, my lord? No, of course not. I thought—”

  “Rightly so. I simply wondered if you’d formed some opinion of her mental suitability. She seems alert enough.”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed as she looked from one to the other, and since Lazet’s admonition, she kept her back almost proudly straight.

  The question of her mental suitability, however, seemed to be more than Lazet could handle.

  “Well, yes, my lord, she’s . . . alert, I suppose. . . .”

  Before Selasis could clarify the question or express his obvious annoyance, Bruno Hawkwood rose and walked silently toward the girl. She drew back, her eyes inky pools of apprehension, but he stopped a pace away, his slight smile conveying a cordiality Karlis found incredible.

  “What’s your name, girl?” Hawkwood asked, almost gently.

  “Elda,” she replied, still uncertain, but assured enough to try to meet Hawkwood’s eye, if only briefly. “Elda Ternin, sirra.”

  “Ah. A pretty name. Tell me, Elda, have you ever dreamed of being a Lady?” Then, noting her shocked glance at Selasis, “It’s all right. Dreams aren’t deeds, you know.”

  Finding only expectant approval on her Lord’s face, she laughed nervously, casting a sidelong glance at Hawkwood.

  “Oh . . . there was times I dreamed things like—like that when I was little. When I first went to the big Plaza on a Corcord Day and saw all the fine Lords and Ladies. But children—well, they say even kittens and puppies dreams.”

  Hawkwood smiled understandingly. “So they say. and children always like to make games of their dreams. You have a nice voice, Elda; a soft voice. When you were a little girl, did you and other children ever play at being Lords and Ladies? Ah—of course, you did. What Lady did you like best to play?”

  Hawkwood had her thoroughly charmed now. That avid glint Karlis had recognized earlier was even more obvious, and there was a hint of coqu
etry in her shy smile.

  “You’ll laugh, sirra, and . . . and my lords.” Then, seeing Hawkwood’s and Selasis’s encouraging smiles, she admitted, “I—I always liked to pretend I was the most beautiful Lady I ever saw on a Concord Day. She was . . . I mean, the Lady Elise.”

  Selasis’s mouth twitched, and Karlis almost laughed, too. Phillip Woolf should be here. But Hawkwood didn’t share their amusement. He nodded to the girl agreeably.

  “She was indeed lovely, Elda, and I’m sure you played the Lady better than any of the other children. Do you remember how the Lady Elise walked? I always thought her so graceful in the way she walked. Remember how she crossed to the first tier of steps on her lord husband’s arm, then she’d turn and smile and wave to the crowd, with the lights flashing in her hair and on all her shining jewels.”

  The girl was entranced, eyes moist and unfocused.

  “Oh, yes, sirra, and the pretty gowns she wore, silk and satinet and fur. I never even touched fur. . .”

  Nor silk and satinet, Karlis thought irritably, then he stared at Hawkwood. After a quick look around the room, Hawkwood went to a table by one of the windowalls and pulled the cloth off, and now he returned to the girl, still smiling. And that cloth—brocaded Sanseret silk, the rare peacock pattern, fringed with pure gold thread—the man had gone mad! He was actually draping that cloth around the Bond’s shoulders, laughing lightly when she tried to put him off.

  Karlis looked at his father and got another shock. Not only was Selasis offering no protest himself, he shook his head at Karlis in a clear warning not to interfere. At least Lazet hadn’t slipped over the edge into this incredible insanity; his gaping mouth served as a reminder to Karlis to close his own.

  “Look, Elda—silk as fine as any Lady ever wore. No, don’t be afraid.” For the first time there was a hint of threat in Hawkwood’s voice, and it stopped the girl’s frantic protests; but he was still smiling, and the hint was so subtle, it only calmed her, rather than making her afraid. “Now, Elda. show us how you used to play the Lady Elise. Remember how she looked on Concord Day? Remember how she walked? Show me how she walked in all her silks and furs.”

  “You—you’re making mock of me, sirra.” Still, that misty enchantment was back in her eyes, and Karlis winced as her grimy fingers stroked the silk.

  Hawkwood said. “You’re afraid we’ll laugh? Well, Elda, if you should provide your Lord a little amusement, is that so bad?”

  Karlis saw his father actually smile encouragingly at that cue, and the girl laughed and tossed her head back.

  “Well, when I saw the Lady Elise in the big Plaza, she held her head up so high . . . like this, and she’d lift up her silk skirt just a little in front, and she’d smile . . . oh, she seemed to shine all by herself!”

  And as Karlis watched in stunned disbelief, Elda lifted her chin and began walking toward the door, every step a ludicrous swoop, the cloth dragging behind her, one hand raised, no doubt on her “lord husband’s” arm, while she grinned at imaginary crowds. When she reached the door, she turned, swept her “train” around behind her, and retraced her steps with the same swooping gait, and finally climaxed this grotesque parody with a formal curtsy to Selasis.

  Hawkwood seemed delighted, and Selasis smiled beatifically as the Bond straightened.

  “Very good, my girl.” he said, giving Hawkwood an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Elda, I think you’re possessed of untapped talents. I’ll talk with you soon about them. But for now—Lazet. take her to the minimum security section and tell Master Ranes to make her comfortable.”

  “Uh . . . yes, Master Hawkwood.” He was still bewildered, but the direct order seemed to reestablish his equilibrium. In reverse ratio, it shook the girl’s, and she was suddenly embarrassed and afraid. She pulled the silk cloth off and tried to fold it, and Karlis groaned inwardly at the mauling of the delicate brocade.

  “You may keep it for a while, Elda,” Hawkwood reassured her. “I want you to get used to the feel of silk. Lazet, I’ll need to talk to you later, so keep yourself available.”

  “Yes, of course, sirra. Ah . . . my lords, good day.”

  When at length he and the girl had concluded their nervous bowings and shuffled out of the room, and the doors finally closed on them, Selasis loosed a long sigh.

  “Oh, Bruno, a Sanseret silk?” Karlis waited with some anticipation for the dressing down Hawkwood so thoroughly deserved for the desecration of a rare work of art, but he was due for another shock. His father looked up at Hawkwood and actually laughed.

  “But an effective demonstration. A signpost to a True Path, wouldn’t you say, finding a girl like that—one with the physical characteristics Lazet found so inspiring, and enough intelligence and imagination to show promise as an actress.”

  Hawkwood returned to his chair, sober, contained; himself again.

  “It may be a signpost, my lord. At any rate, the metamorphosis, as you termed it, is entirely feasible. She’ll need training, of course. Mistra Radin, I think. She can also be trusted. She has two daughters of whom she’s inordinately fond, both dancers in the Concordia Cor d’Ballet.”

  Selasis grunted. “And dancers are so vulnerable to injuries. Well, the outward aspects of the metamorphosis will be simple enough, but all the surgery, cosmetics, costuming, and training won’t make that girl convincing in close contacts with friends or family. You will, of course, make available all the information you can garner on Lady Adrien’s personal life, but that won’t—”

  “Father!” Karlis rose, staring at the two of them, the full import of this charade having at last come home to him. “You’re going to let that girl act as a—a stand-in for . . . Adrien?”

  “Of course, Karlis. What did you think this was all about?”

  “But she’s—she’s a Bond!”

  “What would you suggest? That I use a Fesh? Or should I delve into the Outside and dredge up one of your—” He stopped, venting a weary sigh. “Never mind. It will only be temporary, but it’s imperative that no one suspect your new bride has fled her groom. That must be obvious to you.”

  Karlis sagged back into his chair. “Yes, I suppose—but it seems like a hell of a risk . . .”

  “It is a hell of a risk, and she can only successfully manage it at a distance, so to speak, or in very brief appearances.” Selasis turned to Hawkwood. “To reduce the number of public appearance for the ‘Lady,’ we must invent a plausible and perhaps lingering illness. Adrien laid the groundwork for that herself with those fainting spells yesterday. My greatest concern, of course, is her family.”

  Hawkwood nodded, the light moving on the bronzed contours of his head.

  “But an ordinary illness might induce them to come to Concordia to offer personal solicitude. Perhaps this illness should be more mental than physical, and she’s laid the groundwork for that, too. Her reluctance to enter this marriage, her nearly obsessive attachment to the Lord Alexand. I’m told she wore his betrothal ring yesterday; in fact, she’s worn it continuously since his death. Hardly normal behavior. A state of chronic, or even manic, depression shouldn’t seem unreasonable to her family or anyone else.”

  Selasis smiled almost warmly. “Yes, very good, Bruno. I can get clinical evidence, of course. That psychologist at the University—what’s his name?”

  “Lassily,” Hawkwood supplied. “Bern Lassily.”

  “And a mental illness will serve very nicely to explain any inconsistency in her behavior.”

  “Perhaps, my lord, Lady Adrien might go so far as to refuse to see or talk to her family, especially her father. Dr. Lassily could insist that they refrain from forcing their attentions on her until—well; for as long as necessary .”

  Selasis nodded decisively. “Excellent, Bruno. Well, I have no choice but to attempt the subterfuge. Karlis and his new bride will leave for t
he Lima retreat in a few hours. A nuptial trip, for public consumption. Dr. Lazet and Mistra Radin will accompany them, of course, although that won’t be made public, and I’m depending on you to make sure it doesn’t become public. I’ll let it be known within a week that Lady Adrien isn’t well, and their stay in Lima will be prolonged to give her more opportunity for rest, etc. And Lassily—before you leave Concordia, Bruno, you must make the necessary arrangements with Lassily, and the less he knows, the better.”

  “He’ll only know that you say Lady Adrien is suffering a mental disorder. He’s too . . . indebted to you, my lord, to question your judgment publicly or privately. He’ll lend his name to the ‘treatment’ in any way you wish.”

  “Good. But be sure of him, Bruno. And keep in mind that this subterfuge can’t be maintained indefinitely. I want Adrien found, and found soon.”

  “She’ll be found as soon as possible, as soon as is Written. My lord, have you any idea where she might go for refuge?”

  “How in the God’s name should I know?”

  “And you, Lord Karlis? Anything she might have said—some passing remark, perhaps?”

  “Well . . . no. I didn’t really know Adrien too well. But she has this private retreat somewhere on Castor. Her father built it for her a few years ago.”

  “Yes, to solace her after Lord Alexand’s death. She won’t be there.”

  “What makes you so damn sure?” Why did Hawkwood have to keep harping on Alexand Woolf and Adrien?

  “It’s too obvious, and it would be much too easy to find her there.” Hawkwood rose, turning to Selasis. “There aren’t many places a Lord’s daughter can hide. Unless she does have help from her father or someone in a similar position, her choices will be limited.”

  “My time is also limited,” Selasis noted coldly.

  “Yes, of course. I think her source of information in the Outside is a logical line to follow; that source might also provide her a refuge. Then there’s the obvious alternative of the cloisters. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a great deal to do before I lift off for Helen.”

 

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