by Doris Egan
The divider from the passage is just a thick cotton tapestry, half open; Ran flung it the rest of the way and bowed like a proper host.
And in walked Jusik Porath. He hadn't even changed his clothes.
Chapter 5
Ran threw me a bated look and said, "Apparently the noble sir has anticipated my call, Theodora."
Jusik, who was striding into the room like an army on the march, stopped short. "Your call?"
"Of condolence," said Ran. "I was just remarking to my wife that I should go and present my family's regret at this tragedy to your House."
"Condolence call," repeated Jusik. "Yes. Of course. Might I sit down?"
Ran gestured to a tasseled cushion far from my plates, and Jusik seated himself with the air of one making a conscious effort of control. Up close he looked both tired and restless, the lines in his face more pronounced. I'd watched him at the garden party and on the boat, and—when not placating his mother—he'd struck me as a man used to getting his own way, as the First of Porath no doubt would be. He hardly seemed separable from his family, when you thought of him: Father, son, first of his House, representative of one of the six noble branches; it was what he was. As he probably would tell you if you were presumptuous enough to ask.
So why at this moment, as he sat on the cushion in our parlor, did I have the sense that he was here all alone? He seemed… so much an individual. So un-Ivoran.
I didn't even know the man, but suddenly I felt very sorry for him. On impulse I knelt on the carpet, met his eyes, and said, "We mean it, you know. This must be terrible for you. If there's anything we can do…"
He seemed slightly taken aback. The barbarian breaks ritual again. Probably there was a set of statement and reply we were supposed to follow here, and probably Ran was supposed to do it in any case. My sincerity must have been plain, however, as he was not offended: He even broke ritual himself long enough to lean over and touch my hand, before he gave up trying to deal with the out-lander, took a deep breath, and turned back to Ran.
"Well, here I am," he said.
"I beg your pardon?" said Ran.
"Here I am. Surely you expected me."
Ran and I looked at each other.
You have any idea?
Not a clue. I rolled my eyes toward Jusik briefly as though to add, What can you expect? Maybe he's unbalanced by grief.
Ran said, "Uh, perhaps the noble sir could be more explicit?"
Jusik glanced at me. "I wonder if your gracious wife should remain."
The man deserved a lot of slack, of course, but this vagueness could get just a little irritating. Ran said, "I wonder if you could give me some idea of what we're talking about."
This was treading a bit toward direct speech early in a social call; but clearly Jusik had something on his mind… and the truth, I may as well tell you now, is that Ran really didn't care much about Jusik, Kade, or the whole lot of Poraths wherever they may be. He had people of his own that he spent his worry on. Not that he would dream of being discourteous.
Jusik coughed. "I've been very polite, I think, gracious sir. I've come alone—no security, no retainers of any kind, check the street outside. I come here in all good faith, and I really don't think that I deserve to be passed over like this—"
"Sir!" Ran had dropped the "noble."
"We realize that you've had a terrible shock. That you're under enormous strain. I hate to be crude at such a time, but let me put this as simply as I can: / have no idea what you're talking about."
Jusik blinked. "Then you refuse to answer my questions."
"Sir, it is you who refuse to ask them."
I touched his sleeve to get Jusik's attention. "Noble sir,
I'm a barbarian, remember? Be as simple and clear as you can be, and tell me why you've come."
He was deciding whether or not to be insulted. I added, "Please?"
Ran was about to say something else. Hidden by our robes, I jabbed him in the thigh. I didn't want to distract Jusik's attention from me, or it might take hours to get him to talk sensibly. As soon as he went back to Ran, he'd expect to be understood. Not being understood by a barbarian is normal.
"Lady Theodora, I'm here on a business matter, relating to some work of your husband's. That's all."
I jabbed Ran again and smiled at Jusik. "You refer to the sorcery business?"
"Of course. The House of Cormallon is unequaled in its practice."
"The noble sir is too kind. Such compliments are no less treasures than the gold of our House." Spend a year or two on Ivory and you'll be able to toss this stuff off, too. "Now, are you saying that you want to hire my husband to perform some sorcerous assignment for your House?"
"Gracious lady… not exactly. Rather, I wish to consult with him on his present assignment."
"Really. His present assignment. And which assignment would that be?"
Jusik shifted uncomfortably. "Umm, the assignment of yesterday. That is… the assignment… of yesterday."
The First of Porath, known for firmness to the point of tyranny, was near to stuttering. Ran leaned over then, and I sat back on my heels. "Is the noble sir under the impression that I killed his son?"
The adjectives are flowery on Ivory, but they don't mince their verbs. Jusik Porath looked even more uncomfortable. A lifetime of training was holding him back: The Six Families, who so often practice murder as an art form, regard straight business assassination as the lowest of taste. It was sometimes unavoidable, but one never talked about it.
Jusik met Ran's eyes with dignity. "I come as is my responsibility, as the First of my House. I come to ascertain what danger we may be in. To see what it is your employer wants of us. So public an… incident, surely can be nothing but a warning. I should be at home, sir, seeing to my family,
but I am here in fulfillment of my duty. I dared not wait. I trust that you will respect the… restraint… I have shown."
Ran was momentarily speechless. Jusik said, impatiently, "Is it war? Whom has my House offended? You could not expect me not to ask you, not when your work was done in full view of the world!"
"Sir, do you think I'd assassinate a member of your family while I was your guest?"
"Isn't that what sorcerers do?"
The gulf between the first and second tiers of aristocracy had never seemed so wide. The scary thing was that Jusik could be so controlled about it—he could be that way because his pain and anger weren't directed at Ran. I don't think he thought any more of Ran than he thought of a gun or a knife, or a soup ladle.
Gods! Did Ran ever think of himself purely in terms of functionality? I needed to give this some thought, when time presented.
Ran said, "It's not what / do. And it's not what Cormal-lon does. I don't speak for the rest of the world." Or give a damn about it, either, said his voice. "To target your son would be discourteous and stupid both. There are far more subtle ways of killing people than a long run off the side of a boat. This whole action has the stamp of the amateur on it, and amateur sorcerers are fools of the worst stripe."
That all came from the heart. Jusik listened in silence. I said, "It's true, noble sir. I handle the bookings for my husband; if he were on any assignment, I would know about it."
Jusik glanced at me. Come on, I thought, look at me: A barbarian. An idiot child. Wouldn't know how to lie. Barely can get my shoes on—
He let out his breath. "Possibly," he said.
Ran said, "Sir, believe me, the House of Cormallon would never get involved in such an obvious project. It's only a matter of time before the sorcerer's run to ground—"
"Is it?" cut in Jusik.
"How not? The sorcerer was either on the boat itself, or his spell was grounded on some person or thing on board.
There's only a finite set of possibilities, and I assume Porath will spare no effort in following each one up."
Jusik said, slowly, "I've heard that the employment of magic leaves an 'echo' that can be traced. I suppose the first ste
p would be to hire a sorcerer of our own to do the trace…"
Ran was shaking his head. "There are reasons why that probably won't work—"
"Don't tell me them." Jusik put up his hand. "I see that I need an expert for this. Would you be willing to take it up?"
Ran's eyes widened. "Sir, just a minute ago you suggested—" He stopped, glanced around the room as though the proper phrases might be somewhere under one of the dirty dishes, then started again. "Noble sir, you've just had a shock. It's not for me to suggest a course of action for your House. I entered your property on a social basis; I would prefer to keep it that way."
"I'll be very busy for the next few days," said Jusik, straightening his robe as he spoke. He sat up straighter, seeming to put on the House of Porath again with every gesture. "It would be a great favor to me personally, if you would take up this task for us."
"With all respect—"
"And it would give us an opportunity to talk over this marriage idea."
Another silence while we assimilated this.
Jusik added, "Although it would be a favor, I don't mean to suggest there would be no fee involved—"
Ran shook his head—not in negation, more as though he'd been hit by a few too many sandbags. "I'm sure your fee would be… would you mind if I discussed this with my wife?"
"Not at all! I have to leave in any case." He rose to his feet with that born Ivoran grace I'll never match if I live to be two hundred. "There's no need for any delay, if the proposal finds your favor. You would have the run of my house, my grounds, the boat. Simply send a message, and I'll notify everyone to give you full cooperation." He smiled at us both and bowed. Then he turned to Ran and added, "I would prefer a swift solution."
"I don't doubt it." Ran accompanied him to the door.
He was back a few seconds later. "Well?" he asked.
I said,"Ran, I've been on Ivory for several years now, and I've sat in on any number of unusual conversations. But I have to say that this was the weirdest."
He smiled, not a happy smile. "He's still more than half convinced I'm guilty. That's why he wants to hire me. So I can let my principals know that he's looking for a meeting. Or if the price is right, so I can tell him my principals' names."
"He didn't say that."
"Yes, he did."
I found myself staring at the dirty dishes. "So you'll have to turn him down."
"That would be an admission of guilt, too. Protecting my client's identity, the first duty of a good sorcerer."
"Well, you can't take him up on it, not if you don't have a client to hand over."
"And then there's Kylla and the marriage."
I sighed. "I thought this was going to be a simple social problem."
He stooped and picked up the plates. "Theodora, why do people always think I'm guilty of something? Is it my face?"
"Has this been happening all your life, or only since you met me?"
"Good point." He balanced my cup atop the pile. "I'm glad you're finally starting to take some responsibility for this constant disruption of my life."
"Huh! If we're going to start talking about disrupting people's lives—"
"I didn't force you to come back to Ivory, that was your fate."
Yeah, fate operating under a Cormallon pseudonym. I followed him into the pantry. "So what are we going to do? Want to talk to Kylla before we get any deeper in this? We'll wake her if we call now."
"Kanz, no. Kylla would grab me by the throat and tell me to do anything it takes, now, to get Jusik in our debt."
"You want me to run the cards? I don't know how helpful they'll be in a situation like this. I mean, they're your cards, they don't care about Kylla or Kade. I can do a regular business configuration… although, technically, you haven't accepted this as a business offer."
Ran stopped short. "A business offer. Why was Jusik so quick to assume Kade was killed for business reasons? It's the normal assumption for most of our clients, but the Six Families practice murder as an art form. Why shouldn't Kade have been the loser in one of their damned games?"
"That's easy." I took the dishes from him and set them down. "Kade was killed by a sorcerer. You were the only known sorcerer on board, and you're not a gameplayer, you're a businessman."
"We can't assume that, though. There may very well have been an amateur sorcerer on board." He leaned on the sideboard unhappily. "This is a mess, sweetheart. Assassinations among the aristocracy are none of our business."
"So turn him down." I smiled, knowing he wouldn't.
Another sigh. "And you know what else," he said. "Now we have Stereth Tar'krim to worry about."
At that point I wasn't really worried about Stereth, because I trusted that as an old friend he would find some way of warning us off the case if he were involved. I wasn't even worried about Kylla and Lysander's marriage, because somehow in the end Kylla always gets things the way she wants them in life. Although I hated to see her unhappy meanwhile.
I was worried about an entirely different subject. That night in bed, I said to Ran, "I want to talk to you about us."
He shifted uncomfortably. Ran does not like to talk about important topics; talk implies uncertainty, and as Cormallon heir he seems to feel the path of his life should not admit uncertainty in any area. He's known since childhood what his duty was and his life should be, so why talk?
I said, "About children."
He looked unhappy. "You don't talk about children, they're something that happens."
"They're something that doesn't happen, too. There's good reason to think that Ivorans might be different genetically from the rest of standard society. Maybe even a different species. I've looked and looked, but I can't find any hard evidence anywhere—maybe somebody knows, some-
where in the Tellys medical complex, but they're not telling if they do—"
"You went to the Tellys medical complex?"
"Just for research. On the Net."
"Oh."
"Listen to me. There's always a chance that you and I won't be able to have children. Or if I do get pregnant we have no idea what'U happen. On the other hand, if you went to the Selian Clinic, we could get a good genetic scenario, with percentage probabilities—"
"No."
"They need both parents to run a scenario."
"What do you mean, both? Have you been?"
"Why would I go without you? Anyway, I've been examined plenty of times back on Athena, so nobody's getting any novel data from me."
He was silent. I got tired of listening to the dark, so I said, "Ran?"
He said, "Look. I will not turn over any informational property of Cormallon, including my body, for study."
"Come on, Ran, we're talking about an outworlder medical clinic. It's not a rival House."
He sat up, throwing back the light summer coverlet. He switched on the light. There was no anger in his face, but I had the feeling he was upset. "Times are changing. With every generation it gets worse. We only reestablished contact with standard society a hundred years ago, did you know that?" He didn't wait for an answer. "It's not going to end now. Every time a new piece of technology is imported, we change a little more. Someday our rivals will be on Tellys and Pyrene, not down the road and over the hill. That's what our grandson will have to worry about; I'd be a fool to make it harder for him."
"Well." I stared at him. "I never thought to hear this from you."
He smiled wryly. "Because I spend all my time focused on whatever the current sorcery assignment is? Because I only seem to worry about this fiscal year?"
"Yes."
The smile was painful. "I'm the First; it's my job to consider the future of the House. Which will not be enhanced by handing goodies to potential enemies."
I didn't try to argue that; to an Ivoran, anyone not in his family is a potential enemy. I said, "Even if the Tellys doctors could isolate a gene in your body for sorcery—if it exists, and if they care enough to try, which I doubt—what good would it
do them without the genes themselves, without any practical means of expressing them?"
"Understanding something is the first step to controlling it."
"Without the rest of the steps, the first one doesn't count for much."
"I'm not going." He switched off the light.
I waited till he settled back, then said, "If I can't get pregnant, this hypothetical grandson will never exist. Have you thought about that?"
Silence. My eyes readjusted to the dark. I looked around the small bedroom, at the dressertop with its vials and bottles and containers, at the chest, at the stool in the corner. I gave him plenty of time, then I said, "If I can't get pregnant, will the Cormallon council pressure you to marry somebody else? Take a second wife, the way Lysander's being pressured?"
He said, "I would resist that most strenuously."
He sounded like a politician holding the line against taxes. And we all know how long that lasts: I said, "You should run for one of the democratic offices." Then I slapped my pillow a couple of times to plump it up, and settled down to go to sleep.
Chapter 6
I entered the Porath house again with mixed feelings. We were intruding on a private grief, yet we'd been invited. Add to that the fact that I didn't really know what we were going to do. The role of a sorcerer is generally to cause trouble, not to work out how the trouble came about. When Ran needed investigating done, he generally paid people to do it for him… but then, the investigating was usually nonsorcerous in nature. And strictly business.
I'd run the cards, to be on the safe side, as with any client assignment; they'd suggested a good chance of success and no great danger to Ran, so I'd given my stamp of approval. I hoped I wouldn't regret it.
I touched Ran's arm as we passed the lacquered pillars of the central porch. He looked at me.