He nodded to himself. Tal was looking for a quick win and a sense of closure. He could work with that.
Unless, of course, she lost—in which case he would hear her moan about it for the rest of the cycle.
Two days later, he returned from inspecting the holding and reported that Opah had managed to create a makeshift bunkhouse in the building normally reserved for storing heavy equipment.
“It’s better than a field tent by an order of magnitude,” he said. “And she and her family will be preparing our meals. No field rations—the Guards will be ecstatic. Other than the headache of protecting you in such an exposed location, this will be a plush assignment.”
“She’s making the meals?” Tal asked incredulously. “For ten Guards?”
“She seemed to believe it was required.”
Tal chuckled. “No doubt she’s wondering if she hasn’t poured more than she can drink.”
“I’d say she has things well in hand. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s not you who poured more than you thought. Don’t underestimate your opponent.”
“Ha. She’s the one underestimating me. She thinks I’ll fold the first day, but I’m looking forward to it. One moon of peaceful field work sounds like a vacation to me. I can’t wait to get out of here.” Sobering, she added, “Feeding ten Guards for a moon is much too expensive. Tell Aldirk to allocate appropriate funding if he hasn’t already. And add a cook to our Guard complement.”
“So now I must go back and tell her we are eleven, not ten? In addition to you and me?”
“I see you’ve already run afoul of her sharp tongue. Your fear is palpable.”
“The day a producer strikes fear into my heart is the day you set my pyre alight.” He raised his eyebrows. “However, I will readily admit that Raiz Opah has the most…direct communication style I’ve encountered in many cycles. She would make an excellent unit trainer.”
“If she trained units, we’d have an entire Alsean Defense Force cowering at the sight of a producer.”
He smiled at the image. “I’m certain she’d consider that a positive development.”
CHAPTER 29
Temporary setback
“Can you believe this? She’s spending an entire moon playing at being a producer! If we didn’t already know she can’t hold the State Chair, this would certainly prove it.” Challenger sat down with a huff. “This is it. We need to start rounding up our support. She’ll never be more vulnerable to a caste coup than she is right now.”
Spinner held back a sigh. As usual, his ally saw only what he wanted to. “She’s not vulnerable. Not by a long throw. Don’t you realize what she’s done? The producers were her greatest weakness; they’re too afraid of the matter printers. And in one stroke she’s brought half the caste over to her side. By the end of this challenge moon, she might even bring over the other half.”
He had to admit, it was a brilliant move. While it was not unknown for a Lancer to issue or accept a challenge, it was usually limited to the warrior and scholar castes. No Lancer in memory had done something like this. The producers were thrilled—their caste had just been catapulted into the spotlight. It gave them a welcome boost of power, and before the challenge had even begun, Lancer Tal was enjoying a swelling of support. It was a setback, but he was certain it would be a temporary one.
“Who cares what the producers think? They’re not the ones we need for a caste coup. We need the warriors and scholars.”
“Do try to think at least one step ahead. No, we don’t need the producers to take power. But we do need them if we want to keep it.”
“Let me guess: your counsel is to wait. Again. I’m beginning to question your commitment to this cause.”
Sometimes Spinner didn’t know who he hated more, Lancer Tal or Challenger. “If I were not committed to this cause, I wouldn’t have spent the last eight moons investing in it.”
“To what end? I fail to see any real progress. You talk a great game of tiles, but if talking is all you do…”
The threat was clear, and Spinner did not appreciate it. Someday, he would put Challenger in his place. But for now he still needed him, so he swallowed his anger and spoke calmly. “Not all progress happens out in the open. And with something like this, very little of it does. Let’s just say I’ve been cooking up a surprise. It should be ready in another nineday or two, and I guarantee that Lancer Tal won’t be expecting it. That’s when you’ll see the vulnerability you’re waiting for.”
“What is it?”
“A report.”
“A report? That’s your great plan? What is it about, our Lancer’s nonexistent sex life? Please tell me you’ve got something explosive.”
Spinner smiled at the idea of a report on Lancer Tal’s sex life. That would be a short one indeed. “We don’t need explosive,” he said. “We just need fear.”
PART TWO:
SANCTUARY
CHAPTER 30
Hol-Opah
“Welcome to Hol-Opah, Lancer Tal.”
Salomen Opah and her family stood on the front porch of their large home, dressed in what must have been their finest clothing. At the end of the greeting line, a small boy of nine or ten cycles fidgeted with his collar.
“Thank you,” Tal said. “I’m honored to receive your hospitality.”
“Please allow me to introduce you to my family,” Opah continued in a formal voice that Tal had never heard from her. “My father, Shikal Arrin.”
Tal held up her hand. “Well met, Raiz Arrin.”
“Well met, Lancer Tal.” Shikal beamed at her as they touched palms; it seemed he did not share his daughter’s political opinions. “You do great honor to our house. I never thought to receive the Lancer herself! My only regret is that Nashta isn’t here to see it.”
“Your loss is recent and deep,” Tal said. Salomen and her family were all on the lower end of mid-empathic ability; their fronts were barely there. Shikal’s grief for his bondmate was like a second suit of clothing. “Please accept my condolences. She must have been a true heart.”
He nodded. “She was. But her heart lives on in all of us, especially my daughter.”
Opah clearly wanted to end this line of conversation. “These are my brothers, Nikin, Herot, and Jaros.”
Tal touched palms with each brother in turn, thanking them for hosting her and her Guards. They all had the same nearly black hair and deep brown eyes as their sister, and the two eldest shared her height. The Opahs were a tall family.
Nikin was the oldest sibling, his hair already brushed with silver. His smile was open and easy, and Tal liked him on sight. Lurking under his gentle formality was a quick sense of humor.
Herot was younger than Salomen but held himself with a familiar self-confidence. In looks he resembled Salomen more than Nikin, but his squared jaw and thicker facial ridges lent his appearance a masculine charm. He seemed all too aware of his good looks and gave Tal an appraising gaze that made her want to laugh. Obviously, he considered himself irresistible and was enjoying fantasies that she would be glad to disabuse him of.
At the end of the line, she crouched down to look into Jaros’s eyes, smiling to see the same dimple in his chin that Salomen had in hers. “Are those clothes as uncomfortable as they look?” she whispered as she held her palm to his.
His eyes lit up. “Yes! The collar itches. But Salomen insisted. She said we must look our best to honor you.”
“Did she?” Tal asked in a louder voice. “I’m delighted to know that your sister finds honor in my visit.”
“Oh yes, she’s been talking of nothing else. Lancer Tal this, Lancer Tal that. We must be on our best behavior and speak properly and never—”
“That’s enough, Jaros.” Opah’s embarrassment was crystalline, and Tal held back a smile.
“Raiz Opah,” she said without looking up, “I am quite inter
ested in what Jaros has to say. Please do him the honor of allowing him to speak as freely as your other siblings.”
Jaros visibly swelled with pride, and Tal knew she had made a devout ally. “Thank you, Lancer Tal,” he said in his best formal voice. Then it broke down as he leaned in excitedly. “Nobody ever speaks to Salomen that way! Is that because you’re the Lancer?”
“It’s one of the few benefits, yes. May I ask you a question?”
His formal mien returned. “You may,” he said grandly.
“What do your friends at school say about my visit here?” She knew she would get a more accurate picture of the local political climate from this boy than from anyone else on the porch.
“The older ones say they don’t care, but my friends are so envious they can barely walk straight! They want to know all about you. When I tell them you touched palms with me, they’ll turn red with envy.”
“We’ll do more than touch palms, won’t we? Do you not plan to work with me on the holding?”
“I will today and tomorrow, because they’re free days. But after that I have to go to school. Besides, I’m not allowed to work the field equipment.”
Which told her at least part of what Opah had planned for her. “Then I’ll see you at meals, yes?” He nodded, and she gave him a smile before standing.
“Lancer Tal,” Opah said, “while on my holding I will ask you to call me Salomen. I’m not accustomed to formal address in my home.”
“Thank you, Salomen. I’m honored.” Tal did not make a reciprocal offer. She allowed very few people such an informality; surely this producer did not expect it.
It seemed she did, judging by her annoyance. Well, if Salomen Opah chose to be irritated because she was not being given a familiarity that only Tal’s closest friends enjoyed, that was a problem of her own making.
“Please come in. I’ll show you your room.”
Tal followed her through the door arch into a spacious entry that glowed with the richness of old and oft-rubbed wood. This was a style she appreciated: simple, but of high quality and well-cared for. The ornate décor of the State House had never appealed to her, and not for the first time she wished that she might redesign the entire building. But it was untouchable, part of their global tradition, and she was only a temporary inhabitant.
“This way.” Salomen led her up a flight of stairs, down a curving hallway, and through a door into a spacious, comfortable room. It was lit by a pair of very old lamps that were surely heirlooms. A wide, cushioned window seat was flanked on each side by built-in bookcases crammed with books of every size and color. Through the large window, a magnificent vista of fields and trees stretched toward the Snowmount Range, and Tal knew right away that seat was going to be her favorite part of the room. The bed was neatly made with a hand-sewn quilt featuring the Opah family crest, and on the wall above it was a portrait of a woman who bore a strong resemblance to Salomen.
Tal dropped her bag on the floor. “This is your mother?”
“Yes.”
The answer was short and unemotional, but Tal felt a different story altogether. She examined the portrait carefully. “She was beautiful.”
The pain from behind her was so sharp that she had to close her eyes. Salomen Opah had not recovered from her mother’s Return. Tal felt a sudden surge of sympathy; she knew too well what that was like.
“Yes, she was,” Salomen said quietly.
“I see her in you.”
There was no response, and she turned to catch an expression of surprise on Salomen’s face.
“Thank you.” Salomen turned toward the door. “Colonel Micah will be in the next room.”
“Yes, he was most pleased about his accommodations.” Tal followed her out and looked through the next doorway with approval. Micah had already settled in and was currently in the kitchen, speaking with the cook regarding the food preparation for the rest of the Guards. “This is far more pleasant than the tent he expected.”
“Lancer Tal,” Salomen said stiffly, “please do me the courtesy of treating me as a landholder, not a mere field worker. I would never house the Chief Guardian of our Lancer in a tent.”
Tal’s sympathy vanished as quickly as it had come. “I’ll be happy to honor your request, provided you return the favor. You’ve treated me from the very beginning with a palpable prejudice. I’d appreciate being treated with more respect and perhaps, if it’s not too much of a reach for you, an open mind. My words regarding Colonel Micah were not meant as an insult, yet you insist in taking it as such. Are you that unsure of your own position that you feel such a need to defend it?”
Now we’re on familiar ground, she thought as Salomen glared at her.
“As long as you’re a guest in my home, I will treat you with courtesy. But my respect is earned, not given. And accusing me of prejudice and narrow-mindedness is not the way to earn it.”
“It wasn’t an accusation. Merely an observation.” Before Salomen could give her no doubt sizzling response, Tal continued, “Your home is lovely and well-loved. May I see the rest?”
Salomen stood still, her warring emotions clear to Tal’s senses.
“Or if you prefer, I could ask Jaros for a tour,” Tal offered.
That galvanized Salomen into action, and Tal passed a pleasant half-hantick viewing the old house and surrounding grounds. That her hostess was fuming beside her bothered her not at all; she had learned at an early age how to tune out the emotions of others. It was an essential self-defense mechanism for a gifted empath and served her well in her role as Lancer.
The main house was a traditional dome design, with six bedrooms arranged around the outside of the top floor so that each would have a view. A circular hallway divided the outside rooms from the inner core, which consisted of three bathrooms, all naturally lit by a glass opening in the roof. Salomen and Nikin each had their own, while Herot and Jaros shared the third. For this moon, however, Salomen would use Nikin’s bathroom, leaving hers for Tal and Micah. It had originally been shared by Shikal and Nashta, but when Nashta became ill and could no longer negotiate stairs, Shikal had moved them both to a room on the ground floor. He had never moved back up again, and their original bedroom was now the guest room where Tal was staying.
Two beautiful wooden staircases led up to the top floor, one from the front entry and the other from the large dining area on the opposite side of the dome. The kitchen was located in a smaller, attached dome accessed through the dining area, and the rest of the ground floor was divided into a spacious parlor, an office, a storage room, Shikal’s bedroom, and another bathroom.
The entire dome was flanked by a wraparound wooden porch, interrupted only by the kitchen dome. Three steps led up to the porch at the front entry, while the back porch required six due to the sloping land. Tal loved the scenery, which was serene, wide open, and utterly different from the city landscape she was used to. Hol-Opah had a commanding view from its hilltop perch, a fact Micah had approved of when he had done his security check.
Looking west from the back porch, Tal was treated to a spectacular panorama of the Snowmount Range, which loomed far closer here than in Blacksun. Only the very tops of the mountains still held snow this late in the summer, but she could imagine how glorious this scene would be in a few moons.
Off to the south, sunlight glinted off the Silverrun River. It curved sharply around the southeast corner of Hol-Opah and then flowed mostly north, making up both the southern and eastern boundaries of the holding. The river gave Hol-Opah much of its value, providing a natural fence for the herdstock, an endless supply of water, and a regular replenishment of nutrients when it flooded the lower fields. As required by caste law, the Opahs had left a broad buffer of untouched land next to the river, which was marked by a nearly unbroken band of ancient trees. Many of them bore the distinctive black trunk of the molwyn, Fahla’s sacred tree.
; Tal couldn’t wait to go running there.
The outbuildings were all rectangular and clustered in a group north of the main house. Tal was impressed to note that even the harvest storage building was clean and well-kept, and let out a low whistle of appreciation when she stepped into the converted equipment building that now housed her Guards. Each Guard had a cot and a small table serving as a nightstand, complete with water pitcher and lamp. The row of high windows on each wall made the building light and airy; by field standards it was palatial. Five Guards were currently in residence, having rotated off duty just a short while ago, and three of them were fast asleep in their cots, wearing eye masks against the light pouring in the windows. Lead Guard Gehrain moved to wake his staff at Tal’s entrance, but she stopped him with a raised hand. “They’ve earned their sleep,” she said quietly. “Tell them I came by to see how they were doing, and that next time I want to see flowers on those nightstands.”
Gehrain grinned. “It’s no field tent.” The grin dropped from his face as Salomen entered behind Tal, and he gave her a short bow. “Raiz Opah, please accept my grateful thanks on behalf of myself and ten very happy Guards. We never expected such comfortable lodgings.”
Tal waited for Salomen to snap at him, since this was nearly the same thing she had said earlier, but the producer gave him a kind smile instead. “You’re very welcome, Lead Guard Gehrain. It was the least I could do for the service you perform. If you or your staff need anything else, please let me know.”
Tal barely kept her jaw shut as Gehrain assured Salomen that he couldn’t imagine lacking for anything, and when they left the building, she shot a sidelong glance at her hostess. Did Salomen have a twin sister who had switched places with her while Tal’s back was turned?
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