Betrayals

by Sharon Green

  "Why doesn't that first group simply make the same ar­rangements with the new Five?" Wirn asked, having taken the chair at the foot of the table, which unbalanced the seat­ing. "It shouldn't be all that difficult to do it a second time."

  "It's a matter of changed circumstance rather than diffi­culty," a third man put in, someone who had remained silent until now. "Adriari's group was chosen, which made them reasonably amenable. This new group can claim actually to have won, and only a very few people can prove otherwise. Their standing is, therefore, substantially higher, so buying their cooperation will probably be a good deal more expen­sive."

  "Not to mention who the five people are," Lanir added with a nod of agreement. "Their fathers are each powerful and respected men, but for the most part the children are either throwaways or potentially too dangerous. If your child is a High talent, he or she had better be fully capable and completely under your control. If he or she isn't, it's safer to dispose of that child as quickly as possible."

  The other men agreed with that, and began to discuss various people who had wisely rid themselves of potentially dangerous or embarrassing children. Lanir, having started the discussion, joined in with full enthusiasm while beginning on the soup we were all being served. I spent a brief moment wondering if he were actually as stupid as he seemed, then came to the conclusion that he was simply one of those who were completely insensitive. I was a lowborn woman who had no choice but to do exactly as he wished; why should he care if I realized that he meant either to enslave or dispose of any High talented children I might give him?

  The creamed soup was excellent, which helped me do something with my mouth other than telling off the fool of a man to my right. It would have been different if I'd ac­tually had to have the man's children, of course, but since I would be leaving that place in just a few hours, it wasn't difficult to keep quiet. Or not too difficult. Now that I knew one of the reasons the nobility had so few High talents, it would have been pleasant to point out the stupidity.

  In another group my remaining silent might have been noticed, but in that one I simply blended in. None of the other women said even a single word, and the men ignored them as though they weren't there. Women in that group were obviously no more than decorations, no more than the "toys" one of the men had referred to earlier. That arrange­ment annoyed me as well, but it was something I didn't want to do something about. The girl with the Low talent in Fire magic ...

  That girl had been having trouble controlling her agitation as she was seated to Wirn's left. On her right was another of the women, and Wirn himself was too involved in the first discussion to be interrupted. That meant she had to keep her discovery to herself, stirring in her chair and looking everywhere but in my direction.

  And then the discussion about children began, and a frown appeared on her face. She listened to what was being said, the frown changing slowly to a look of painful despair, and after a moment I could see the glint of tears in her eyes. I had no idea what it was that actually disturbed her, but could only hope that it wasn't what had suddenly come to me: the possibility that she'd already given Wirn at least one child. If that were the case, she now knew what that child's fate would be....

  Suddenly the girl looked up, and for the first time met my gaze. There were still tears visible in her eyes, but she forced a faint smile and shook her head in a deliberate way, clearly sending me a message. She had changed her mind about speaking to Wirn of her discovery, and might even have been wishing me well. She could have had no idea what I planned, of course, and was probably only hoping that I meant to use my strength in some way. Rather than pretending ignorance and innocence, I smiled and nodded before giving my attention back to the food. That poor girl had deserved to be given some sort of positive sign...,

  The topic of conversation shifted again with the next course, which was a deliciously sweet pate with shredded radishes. Talk of new houses and the newest "in" places to build them had barely been started, when a servant appeared at Lanir's side. Lanir ignored him while completing a re­mark, and only then turned his head to the servant and nod­ded.

  "There is a person here to see you, my lord," the servant announced with frigid dignity. "He claims to have an ap­pointment, which is the only reason I agreed to disturb you. Shall I have him thrown out, or simply put somewhere to await your pleasure?"

  "Neither," Lanir replied with sudden amusement. "I'd nearly forgotten he was coming, and how much I'd been looking forward to his appearance. Show him in, Bowes."

  "At once, my lord," the servant acknowledged with a bow, then disappeared as silently as he'd arrived. I sat there quietly finishing my pate, pretending I didn't know who the caller was. It seemed my father had arrived, and I couldn't help thinking how well he would have fit into that group.

  Lanir went back to his conversation about houses, a secret smile curving his lips. Whatever preparation he'd made for my father's visit were obviously going to remain his secret for a while, which suited me just as well. With the choice between Lanir and my father, I couldn't decide whose side to be on. I took a hot, buttered roll and bit into it, and with the last bite the servant Bowes reappeared, leading the vis­itor.

  "Gentles, the merchant Storn Torgar," Bowes an­nounced, stressing the word merchant as though it were something low and slimy and obscenely amusing. My father, used to being looked up to and admired, colored at the slur and ground his teeth a bit, but by the time he moved past the servant, he'd forced a charming smile onto his face.

  "Lord Lanir, how good of you to receive me," he of­fered, his attitude saying he spoke to a near equal. "I apol­ogize for interrupting your dinner, but the matter is rather urgent. As soon as we're in agreement, I'll be on my way again."

  "Did I remember to tell you all that I had an amusement planned for us tonight?" Lanir said to his friends while completely ignoring his caller. "This peasant is the father of my lovely companion here—do you see the resemblance, with both of them being blond?—and he's had the nerve to challenge my claim to her. He said he's willing to negotiate for her return, so shall we ask what his offer is?"

  "By all means," Wirn called with a laugh from the other end of the table. "I haven't had a really good laugh in quite some time."

  "Yes, let's hear it," the fat-bellied Fasher agreed while he other three men made similar comments. "The posturing of peasants has always been good for a chuckle."

  "Do you hear that, Torgar?" Lanir said to my father, who lad gone absolutely expressionless. "They're all on your side, so let's hear what sort of offer you're prepared to make."

  "I expected to discuss the matter in private, just between gentlemen," my father replied, an edge to the voice he held completely without inflection. "As you seem to prefer a public negotiation instead, I can do nothing other than oblige you. The girl is my daughter so my claim to her supersedes yours, but I'm prepared to be reasonable. A thousand gold dins if I walk out of here with her right now."

  I couldn't keep from blinking at that, obviously having had no real idea just how desperate my father was to get me back. I'd noticed that Odrin Hallasser hadn't come with him, which wasn't a good sign where my father was concerned. The horrible beast of a man must have ordered my father to retrieve me or else ... For the first time I wondered what that "or else" might entail.

  "Really, my good man, how can you say that?" Lank drawled as his friends laughed. "The young lady hasn't even finished her dinner as yet. Do you really expect me to turn her out hungry?''

  "AH right, two thousand!" my father snapped, coloring again at the laughter. In his embarrassment he'd glanced at me where I sat unspeaking, the expression in his eyes sug­gesting that he expected to see me laughing as well. Under other circumstances I might have done just that, but having two men discuss the price for my purchase was something I found less than amusing.

  "Well, now we have an offer of two thousand," Lanir said, again speaking mostly to his friends. "He really seems to dislike the idea of her having d
inner, but I find myself curious. Tell me, peasant: just how high are you prepared to go in order to spirit her away from my beard? Stop play­ing the merchant for a moment, and pretend to be a man. What is the absolutely highest figure you're prepared to of­fer?"

  "You're right, we're wasting time here," my father re­turned tightly, his fair skin still flushed. "I tried to save us both the trouble of a court appearance and a public scandal, but some people aren't capable of understanding when they're done a favor. My final offer is five thousand gold dins. If that figure doesn't suit you, we can continue this discussion before a panel of judges."

  "Oooo, now the peasant is threatening me," Lanir said, his bad pretense of being frightened causing his friends to laugh even harder. "He offers a sum that only a child would find impressive, then expects me to believe that any court in this city would find in his favor rather than in mine. You're obviously a fool, peasant, so I really ought to be gentle with you. You've named your highest price, but haven't yet asked me to name one. Would you like to try that before you go storming off to court?''

  "It's fairly obvious I'm still wasting my time, but why don't you go ahead and name your price. That way I'll get some amusement out of this as well."

  My father had spoken tightly, with repressed anger, but he probably couldn't have refused to listen even if he'd wanted to. Not only did he have the awareness of Odrin Hallasser riding him, refusing to listen to an offer went counter to everything he stood for.

  "If it's amusement you're looking for, peasant, my offer should suit you perfectly," Lanir said, a glitter of cruel an­ticipation in his eyes. "In order for me to even consider what you're asking, you must first put forth your proposal in the proper manner. If you'll turn about, you'll see a box on that table to the right of the door. Go and put on what you find inside the box, and then we'll be able to continue this discussion."

  My father hesitated visibly, only glancing at the box rather than going straight to it. He also glanced at me where I sat turned sideways on my chair, but I was just as much in the dark as he. I hadn't even noticed that box, the sort which clothing often came in, so I had no idea what might be in it.

  Someone else might have refused even to look, but it was a measure of my father's desperation that the end of his hesitation found him walking over to the box. It took only a moment to open it, and then he threw away the top and pulled out the box's contents to shake the item in an angry fist.

  "The motley of a fool!" he snarled, so livid he was nearly beside himself. "And you expect me to put this on?"

  "But of course," Lanir agreed blandly while everyone else laughed uproariously. "Didn't I say you were a fool? I simply want you to look like what you certainly are. You may change in the next room, and then you're to return."

  Despite his anger, my father hesitated for the second time. The pressure on him to get me back was obviously enor­mous, otherwise he never would have thought twice about storming out. It was clear he found himself in the midst of actually considering going along with what he'd been told to do, but then his years of experience in dealing with people came to his rescue.

  "You said you would 'consider listening' if I did things your way," he remembered aloud, speaking to a patiently waiting Lanir. "Nothing about accepting my offer, just an agreement to consider it. I really would be a fool if I went along with this, so you can save this outfit for yourself. Specifically for when you find out that there are others with influence in the courts beside yourself."

  He threw the motley away without watching to see where it would land, and simply stalked out of the room. Lanir's friends were all still laughing, their companions dutifully giggling along with them, but Lanir shook his head with a sigh.

  "I'm disappointed," he complained to everyone in gen­eral, all but pouting. "I expected him to actually get into that outfit before he realized the truth, but he found me out. Now I'll have to find someone else to wear it. Maybe that friend of his, the one who didn't come with him this time."

  "You've probably been saved some effort, Lanir," Wirn consoled his friend while I tried to picture Odrin Hallasser wearing motley. "If he'd put that thing on and only then found out you had no intention of giving the girl up, he might have done something foolish like trying to attack you. From the way he behaved, I doubt he knows who you are."

  "But he'll find out if he tries to go to court," Lanir re­sponded happily as he reached for a roll. "He'll discover that no one is allowed to institute suit against me, not as long as I remain Seated High. Do you think he'll decide to wait until the next challenge, to see if I'm unSeated?"

  General laughter greeted that question, showing they all knew that the outcome of challenges was carefully arranged in advance. Servants reappeared with steaming dishes hold­ing the next course, so once again I was helped to keep from commenting. Assuming Lanir turned out to be reason­able later and I was able to leave without interference, I intended to see if it was possible to return at the time of the next challenge. The man deserved to lose his place publicly, and being defeated by a woman would add insult to injury.

  I spent the rest of the meal dreaming about proper re­venge, and once we retired to the sitting area I went back to that very pleasant pastime. Lanir had one of the servants put on the discarded motley, and then he and his friends made the man dance around the way court fools were sup­posed to have done when there were kings and their courts running the world. Men who were very proficient in their respective aspect were called knights, which is where the phrase, "knight in shining aspect" comes from. I'm not sure how "shining" they were, but today's Highs are supposed to be their equivalent.

  After the lordly nobles finished with their amusement, Lanir gave his friends a final glass of wine and then sent them home. None of them seemed surprised at being all but thrown out, nor were they insulted. They left laughing and joking with one another, and then Lanir turned to me.

  "Your behavior tonight was absolute perfection," he said, holding out his arm to me. "The time has now come for the part I've really been waiting for, so let's hurry back to your apartment."

  I rose from the chair I'd been sitting in and went to take his arm, ignoring the part of me that wanted to tremble with dread. I'd have no trouble handling whatever came next, I knew I would have no trouble ... I hoped ...

  FIVE

  Kambil Arstin walked into the sitting room of the residence where the others had already gathered, looking around with a great deal of satisfaction. Bron, Homin, and Selendi sat together chatting, and Delin simply sat by himself and stared. Delin would have been devastated to know how ,,. vacant he looked, but Kambil knew better than the others that Delin was no longer being allowed to know anything. His unthinking body wasn't even aware of where it was, let alone that it was only permitted to follow orders, not to consider them.

  "Ah, Kambil, you're back," Bron said after looking up. "How did it go? Did you learn anything?"

  "I certainly did, which means we'll be busy tonight," Kambil replied, heading for the everpresent tea service. If for some reason he had to stop drinking tea, he had no idea what he would do with himself in place of holding a cup and sipping from it.

  "Does that mean we still aren't to be allowed into the palace?'' Selendi asked. ' 'They have a lot of nerve keeping us out after we won the competitions."

  "Don't forget that we were helped to win, my sweet," Homin told her with a chuckle. "That means they think we owe them something. But I take it Zolind is still being dif­ficult?"

  "Advisor Zolind Maylock was undoubtedly born diffi­cult," Kambil said over his shoulder as he added sugar to his tea. "He's called for a full meeting of all his brother

  Advisors, insisting that it be held tomorrow. Once the meet­ing is in session he'll certainly insist that we be disqualified and that a new round of competitions be held next year, with the present Blending remaining Seated for the time. We can't afford to let that happen, so tonight we'll see to it that the man who was born difficult dies the same way."


  "Won't he be expecting us to try something like that?" Bron asked, watching as Kambil carried his teacup to a chair and sat. "I mean, we are a functioning Blending, alter all. Only a fool would ignore that fact and discount us."

  "Sometimes ignorance accounts for a good deal of fool­ishness," Kambil told him, pausing to sip his tea before continuing. "For instance, there's a guard contingent sta­tioned around this house now. It was posted there suppos­edly to 'protect' us, but they also have orders to make sure we don't leave. The guardsman I passed on the way out was kind enough to tell me that, although he doesn't remember speaking to me and is prepared to swear that no one got by him. Zolind doesn't even really understand what we're ca­pable of individually, so how can he possibly guard against us as a Blending?"

  "He can't, so he's ours as soon as we reach him," Selendi said happily, tightening her grip on Homin's hand. "And since no one will remember that we left and then returned, he'll even have provided us with witnesses to sup­port our innocence."

  "A point which I find extremely amusing," Homin said with a faint smile, briefly raising Selendi's hand to his lips. "What I'd like to know, though, is how we'll cover our­selves where the Seated Blending is concerned. You said we would be ending them as well, and who else but us will be considered able to do that?"

  "No one, which is why they won't be 'ended,' at least as far as the world is concerned." Kambil made no effort to hide his amusement, as the idea which had come to him still had the ability to tickle. "The Five will be seen to leave the palace without their guard, on the way out saying some­thing to the effect that they'd done their duty and had no interest in hanging about any longer. People will have the impression that they mean to implement private plans, which ought to explain their complete disappearance. And they will disappear, in a way that no one will ever find them again."