by Doris Egan
"I won't be able to stay long," I said, tapping my nose. Cats.
"Twenty minutes. We'll talk to Grandmother Porath if we can, and then Coalis."
I nodded. The lizard, at least, was gone from the immediate vicinity. Maybe there was a shed or something on the property where he was kept. On the other hand, this could mean we'd come upon a heavy reptilian shape dragging itself toward us in any dark corridor.
The doors around the porch had been hung with bolts of silver cloth, and silver paper lanterns dangled from the roof. A smell of incense came from a doorway at the right wing of the house. Kade's body would be laid out there before it was burnt.
I said, "If this were Athena, someone would have to examine the corpse."
Ran nodded. "We will."
"What do you mean, we will? We're not doctors."
"What good would a doctor be?" He used the Standard word, as I had. "We know the physical cause of death. Drowning. And if there are any traces of sorcery to be found, a doctor would hardly be helpful."
"Look, I really don't think I'm up to—"
The house steward met us at the door, and we all bowed. He was a tall, gray-haired man on the verge of retirement, as stewards often seem to be—it must be a job you work up to—and he said, "The orders of the House are to lend you every assistance." He had a kind, rather quiet voice; his whole style was that of one whom it would be difficult to shock. "I hope you'll forgive my not meeting you at the gate, but things have been quite turned around today."
"Of course," said Ran. "One of the reasons I came was to offer the sympathy of my House."
"It is much appreciated. Please come in. The guard at the gate said you'd inquired whether Coalis was at home?"
"Yes," said Ran, as we exchanged looks. Neither of us had suspected the gatehouse had a Net terminal, or even that the Poraths were on the Net; they looked dirt-poor, and the subscription fees were stiff. But there was no other way our question could have reached the steward so quickly. "We'd like to speak with him, if we may. Although we'd prefer to speak to his grandmother first."
The steward led us in through the main hall, passing the arch that opened into the kitchen. "I'm afraid Grandmother's asleep at the moment, gracious sir. Actually, I wouldn't expect to see her till tomorrow at the earliest. She was, well, given medication. She hasn't taken this well."
"I see." Ran cleared his throat. "In that case, I suppose we could see Co—"
"Sir Cormallon!" The tall woman who'd shadowed Eli-ana Porath through the garden party and onto the canal boat strode down the flight of stairs at the corridor's end. "Your pardon—you are Ran Cormallon, the sorcerer?"
Ran admitted that he was. She bowed. "Leel Canarol, defensive chaperone to Eliana Porath. My lady asked me to come down and see if it was you who were our visitors. She'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind." She wore black provincial trousers, worked in silver thread, and had a quilted silk vest above them that was also silver: half-mourning clothes, out of respect to the Poraths. I noted there was still a pistol-sized bulge beneath the vest, even here in the family compound.
The steward turned to us, awaiting our reply. Well, nothing had gone as planned so far; we might as well see what Eliana wanted. I conveyed this to Ran with a shrug, and he spoke to Leel Canarol. "We are, of course, honored by the summons. We'll follow you."
As she led us upstairs, she said, "I'm afraid Grandmother won't be able to see you today in any case." As in the couple of other great houses I'd visited (and married into) I saw that even the staff called the old lady "Grandmother." I'd bet they called Jusik "Lord Porath," though.
"Yes, the steward told us." Ran did not confirm that we were here to see her, or specify any other names. I smiled to myself. If Leel Canerol—or Eliana Porath—wanted to find out anything about what we were doing here, they would have a hard time of it. Ran gripped information like a miser.
Past a hanging of fringed purple, Eliana's room was laid out in the morning sun. It faced the garden; the branches of the coyu tree near the porch brushed her window. The room was white and yellow, clean and old. An alcove for her nurse's bed, a low sleeping platform in the center for herself, with a place for her defensive chaperone built into the foot. (One room, three people; odds were that at least one of them snored. I was glad I wasn't a Six-Families girl.) The sleeping platform was draped in a thick bolt of soft gold cloth, with the mattress and a small lamp atop it.
Some printed books near the window, no doubt with topics appropriate for young ladies. Flowers near the alcove. Two wardrobes. And this was it; this was, pretty much, Eliana's life. A city girl of good family, particularly without money, would not get out very much. The necessary supervision would be too expensive, even given the limited number of places she would be allowed to go.
It occurred to me suddenly that she might well be looking forward to a marriage with anybody, to let her into the ranks of married women and their extra freedoms.
Poor kid. She stood up from the bench by the window and waited, like a well-trained child, for our greeting. She wore plain house robes of light green, no silver anywhere.
Her black hair was pulled back through a velvet band, and hung to her waist.
"Honored by this meeting," said Ran. "Please accept the sympathy of our House."
She nodded. "I hope you'll overlook my clothes. They only just realized that I have no mourning dress." Her voice, high and clear, reported it as a fact, not an assignment of blame. "Auntie Jace, do you think you could get us some tah?"
The temperamental Auntie Jace, I now saw, had been sitting mouselike in the corner; now she jumped up and scurried for the door.
I said quickly, "That won't be necessary. We can't stay long." Besides the cat factor, we were here on business. I didn't want to open up any hospitality debts with Eliana. Besides, I'd gotten as nervous as a born Ivoran about eating untested food—we'd done all right here yesterday, but then yesterday Kade had been alive, and Ran hadn't been a suspect in his death.
Ran said, "I hope you'll forgive our haste. The lady Theodora and I are pressed for time today."
She bit her lip. Then she sat again, smoothing the green robes. "Please sit down," she said, so we seated ourselves on the edge of the sleeping platform. She cleared her throat, then started again. "This is very difficult. I suppose I should just— They tell me you've agreed to investigate my brother's death. Is that true?"
It's always interesting to watch Ran field other people's questions. He said, "If that's what you've been told, I won't deny it."
"Because, you see, if it is true, I have to speak with you."
Ran waited.
Finally she said, "I'm sorry at how self-centered this sounds. But don't you see how this will affect me? A prolonged inquiry, turning over all the rocks in the family garden, just when I'm—well, practically engaged? And you're his brother-in-law! He'll hear all kinds of things!"
"Will he?" asked Ran coolly.
"Every family has its quirks, gracious sir, and I'd prefer that those of mine be left decently at rest."
"Is the lady telling me she believes I'll pass any interesting gossip I may hear along the way to Lysander Shikron?"
"Won't you?"
I would have smiled if I could have gotten away with it without being rude. If she thought Ran would commit himself either way, she'd have a long wait. In the pause that followed, she turned to me. "Gracious lady, I appeal to you. Speak to your husband for me, I have no one to take my part. Don't I have a right to a good marriage?"
Kid, if I can't get him to cooperate on more important issues, I don't think you're going to get very far. I tried to think of some temporizing remark, but Ran spared me.
"Why 'prolonged'?" he said.
"I beg your pardon?" said Eliana.
"You said a prolonged inquiry.' Why 'prolonged'?"
"Well, obviously, the scope would have to be pretty wide—I don't see what this has to do—"
"Why would it have to be wide?"
&nb
sp; "There's the gameplayers, of course, and Kade's business associates, and the gods only know—"
"Kade was a player?" She and Ran were referring to the game of controlled murder, popular among the Six Families. There were complicated rules that governed it, or so I gathered, anyway; as long as I stayed out of their way, I really didn't care what they did among themselves. I should add that when I say it was popular, I don't mean they all played it. It was really only a small minority, but that makes it a lot more popular than it is in any other population, true?
She sighed. "Father didn't want him playing. He's first son, and it's not like our House has branches to spare. He said that he'd stopped, but I know he didn't."
"I see. You mentioned business associates, too."
So she had. I'd lost track of that in the tangle of other possibilities.
"Yes." That seemed to be the end of the topic as far as Eliana was concerned.
Ran said, "I was unaware that the House' of Porath was involved in any form of business."
She said, with a trace of anger, "If you'd let me marry into Shikron, we'd be involved in business enough."
"But Kade was involved already."
We waited. Leel Canerol lounged in false relaxation at the other end of the sleeping platform, her short boots rest-
ing on a stool. Auntie Jace made an exasperated sound, got up, and made a show of going to the window ledge to pick up a bowl of sewing materials.
Eliana finally spoke. "It was a personal matter for him. None of the rest of the House had anything to do with it."
Leel Canerol said, "Eliana, I wouldn't advise—"
"Oh, shush, Lely. He's going to find out anyway, isn't he?"
The more sensible of her two chaperones shrugged.
Eliana said, "Kade started a moneylending association."
This is a respectable enough activity on Ivory, though perhaps a bit declasse for one of the Six Families. Ran said, "… Yes?"
She seemed surprised. "That's it."
Ran and I looked at each other. I said, "Where did he get the money? Was he partners with one of the marketplace banks?" I knew a little bit about the less official banking methods in the capital, due to some money troubles I'd gotten into earlier in my life.
"Oh, no, he borrowed the initial capital on the strength of his name."
"He borrowed it," said Ran slowly. "For this to turn a profit, he'd have to lend it out at a rather high rate of interest."
Leel Canerol chuckled. "He certainly did." Eliana glared at her.
Well, well. If I understood correctly, the first son and heir to Porath had been carving out a reputation as a loanshark.
"Sorry I missed knowing him," I said softly.
Eliana looked up. "Don't tell Father. Whatever you do."
Ran stood. "We'll do what we can," he said, keeping it vague. "I'm afraid we'll have to move on, now—"
"But Lysander? Are you going to tell him about this?"
"At the moment," he said, "I consider the marriage a separate issue from the matter of your brother."
She smiled. We left her to her keepers, both aware that no promises had been made.
Coalis was a very different sort of fish. We found him lying on his stomach in the tiny courtyard attached to the west wing, reading a book of poetry. He was stretched on a patch of very carefully cultivated lawn grass of soft yellow-green, facing a miniature fountain. He sat up when we came.
"Room for three," he said, speaking of the patch of grass. "Hello, Theodora. My greetings, sir Cormallon."
He wore an undertunic of silver and a silver outerrobe. Death of his hopes and dreams, possibly. "Hello, Coalis," I said in the same direct way, not waiting for Ran to speak. "My husband offers the sympathy of our House."
Coalis smiled lazily, pleased in a gentle fashion with the way we'd just run over tradition. Na' telleths were often amused by that sort of thing. "It's appreciated. I heard you were coming, you know. Heard Eliana cornered you when you got in."
"She did," said Ran. "She seemed concerned about your family's reputation."
"Well, she probably has her reasons."
"What are you reading?" I asked.
He held up the book. "Kesey's Erotic Poems.'"
"Really, I was flipping through his general collection just yesterday." Kesey had been dead about six hundred years, but his work enjoyed a certain vogue among classicists. The edition I had was a translation to modern Ivoran, but Coalis' looked like the real thing. "What do you think of them?"
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Finally he said, "I suppose I'm not the best person to ask." He put down the volume. "Perhaps I should have gotten the illustrated version." He looked toward Ran, then back to me. "You have questions for me," he said.
"We do," agreed Ran.
I said, "Your father thinks—or thought—that we might have had something to do with Kade's death."
Ran gave me one of his unreadable looks, but it's not as though everyone else wouldn't have thought of it.
Coalis lifted a fistful of grass. "Well, he would, wouldn't he?"
"We didn't."
"And you'd like to know where else the blame might be spread?"
Ran said, "Briefly put—yes."
"Well, it's nothing to me one way or the other. I have to deal with the fact he's no longer here; how he got that way is irrelevant."
"Not to us," said Ran.
I said, "Eliana told us he was a gameplayer."
"She said that? How odd."
"He wasn't a gameplayer?"
"When he was fourteen, fifteen. I was that way myself at that age," added Coalis, from the height of his sixteen years. "He swore off when he reached majority, and if he ever dabbled, I never heard of it."
"She also said that he lent money at high rates of interest." I could see that Ran disapproved of my method of questioning, but he kept quiet.
"Well, now, that I'd heard of. I suppose I'll have to take over the business for a while, or sell it to somebody—the House could use the money, and somebody's got to bring it in now that the marriage thing is drying up. —Don't tell Father, though."
Ran frowned. "Kade brought you into the business? I wouldn't think it would hold much appeal for a na' telleth."
"Oh, I didn't learn about it from Kade."
"Then who?"
"The Provincial Minister," said Coalis. "Stereth Tar'krim."
Tripping over Stereth's name always throws me—and, I suspect, Ran—a little off balance. Particularly at a time like this, when the connection seemed so remote. Ran sat back slightly, looking as though a small, impossible-to-swat insect was buzzing in his ears. He said, "Stereth Tar'krim discussed your brother's business with you?"
"Yes, he's a friend of mine. We met at a na' telleth retreat day."
Now that was a setup if I'd ever heard one. Stereth Tar'krim was about as na' telleth as… or was he? I remembered a fateful hour several lifetimes ago, when I'd talked about blood and death and failure with Stereth. "If it happens, it happens," he'd said, though he knew then how likely it was; a na' telleth answer if there ever was one. Stereth… rebel, killer, gangster… monk? I shook my head as though to clear it.
"Wait," I said. "How did Stereth know about Kade's moneylending?"
"He wanted to be partners with Kade," said Coalis. "He wanted an alliance with our House, an official alliance—he asked to be listed as an acknowledged House-friend. Father couldn't know about the business, of course, but once he was gone—"
"So he was a friend of Kade's," said Ran, trying to get this straight.
"No, Kade would have nothing to do with it. Why split it, when he could keep it all?"
"And Kade told you this."
"No. Stereth told me. Kade never knew I knew anything about what he was doing."
Ran looked irritated. "You knew Stereth, you knew he wanted to ally with your House, Kade was in the way— and you didn't warn him?"
"Why would I do that?"
Before Ran became more ann
oyed I said, "For one thing, to avoid the situation you're in now. Heir to Porath, good-bye to the monastery."
"Oh! Kade's death. Oh, I'm sure Stereth had nothing to do with that."
After a moment of blankness, Ran and I mutually decided to leave that statement where it lay. I said, "I don't suppose you'd know where we could get a list of Kade's vict—clients?"
"I'm sorry. I'm sure he had a list somewhere, but I've no idea where it is."
Ran let out a breath and rose to his feet, extending a hand to me. "We won't interrupt you any further, then." Clearly we were going to postpone a discussion of the hopelessness of this entire situation till we were out of earshot of the family.
Coalis didn't bother to get up. He dipped his head to acknowledge our bows and smiled politely. As we left the courtyard I saw he'd opened the book again. His feet were propped on the rim of the fountain.
We made our way through the hall that led to the garden. None too soon, I'd been digging out my handkerchief rather frequently there toward the end of the conversation. I gave a good blow, tucked the white linen square into the sleeve of my robe where I could get at it again quickly, and said, "I don't like all this talk of Stereth."
"Can you believe he'd get into loansharking in the capital, now that he's a minister of the empire?"
"All too willingly. Ministers need money like everybody else."
"But he must have negotiated a big payoff from the Emperor when he quit being an outlaw."
I shrugged. "I don't know how big. And who knows what he might want the money for? Maybe he has other projects in mind."
"Great bumbling gods." We reached the main door. It would be polite to wait for the steward to let us out; but I wanted to get into the open air. "Do you see a pattern of repetition here? With Stereth, I mean?"
"I'm not sure. What do you mean?" I reminded myself not to rub my eyes or they'd become infected.
"Remember our summer with his outlaw crew? He wanted to combine forces with the Deathwell bands, but Dramonta Sol opposed it. Tarniss Cord was willing."
I nodded. "And suddenly Dramonta Sol was dead and Tarniss Cord was in charge of all the Deathwell outlaws. I know. It's not a day I'm likely to forget. But what are we supposed to do now? We don't know he's behind Kade's murder, but what if he is? I mean, he is sort of a friend of ours."