by Clayton, Jo;
“You saw?”
“I came round somewhere in the middle, when the parasite took a shot at you.”
“It did?” She let her head fall against his shoulder. “I ache all over. Even my hair hurts.”
He laughed, more to encourage her than because he felt like laughing, and stroked a finger over her cheek, holding her close while she recovered a littel of her strength.
Watching them from his seat on the grass, Gwynnor felt all jealousy burnt out of him. He pulled Sioned against him, feeling her breath warm on his cheek. “You all right?”
“I’m too tired to know yet. Do I still have feet?”
“Stretch out your legs. Let me help you.”
Groaning at the pain of moving legs gone to sleep, she straightened them with his help, then leaned back against his, shoulder, fitting neatly into the space between the curve of his arm and the curve of his side. “Ah Mannh, Gwynnor. Holy Maeve grant I never get mixed up in something like this again.”
“I know. Mind settling down with a landless minstrel and raising a pack of younglings?”
“Sounds … good. Good!” She took his hand and held it tightly. “I’m not made for high and noble deeds. Just small, comfortable, ordinary doings.” She turned her head against his shoulder to look across at Aleytys. “I’ve stopped being jealous of her. In a way, I almost feel sorry for her.”
“Think you can stand?”
“I’m comfortable here. Do we have to move?”
He dropped his head back and looked up, surprised to see the sun still in the morning half of the sky. “If we leave soon, we can be home before dark.”
“I suppose so.” She tucked her legs under and began struggling to her feet.
The Synwedda came through the arch, followed by an array of acolytes who carried in the paraphernalia for lunch. Table and chairs. Covered earthern pots that steamed copiously and sent out enticing odors.
Aleytys sniffed. She swung her legs around and stood. “I’m Starved.”
“You sound surprised.” Grey rose beside her, stretching his body like a lazy cat. His hands came down on her shoulders and he gently massaged the taut muscles. “Relax. It’s over.”
The Synwedda beckoned them over.
The company, Han Lushan included, ate with intense concentration for several minutes. When the first edge of her hunger was blunted, Aleytys turned to Lushan. “Manhanu appointed you his successor?”
Lushan lifted the clear, crystal glass to his lips and sipped at the chilled water, his eyes moving over the varied faces of those sitting around the table. Mouth hidden behind the glass, he spoke softly. “You expected that?”
“I knew the parasite planned to spore here. And that the sporing would kill Manhanu’s body. I suspected the original parasite would want another host available. Ready to take over. Naturally, he’d want that host confirmed into Manhanu’s power.”
“And you thought of me.” He set the glass back on the table. “Thanks.”
Aleytys pushed a piece of meat around with the tip of her spoon. “For me, Lushan,” she said slowly, her eyes on the fragment of meat, “the best solution would be for the Company to pack up and leave Maeve. No,” she looked up, smiling, “I know that won’t happen. The Company is too big, with too many resources. Without the pressure of outside opinions, who knows what happens on Company worlds? Who cares?” She shrugged. “I fished around for what I thought might be an optimum solution. I thought of you. When we talked in the forest, I found you open to dealing with beings unlike yourself with a certain respect. I also found you amoral and ambitious, clever and flawed.” She lifted her hands apologetically. “And, in a way, I owed you a favor.”
“You don’t temper your descriptions.” He eyed her with dislike.
“But the house of Han can start back from exile, if you’re clever enough. And if you remember you need the help of the people of Maeve.”
“I see.” His eyes glittered. “Something of a dubious favor. However,” he rubbed his hands together, “favor it is. Han thanks you. Whatever we have is yours.”
“Don’t promise what you won’t perform. Gratitude is a shadow,” She held up her hand so it made a shadow on the table. “Try to catch hold of it and it slides away.”
“How profound.” His mouth twisted in a mocking smile.
“Hunh. I’m serious, fool.”
“Heavily so.”
“Heavy or not, you should listen. You have a toehold here. Don’t try to keep it by wringing Maeve dry.”
He leaned back in the chair. “It shouldn’t be hard to improve on Manhanu’s record.”
She sighed. “I don’t know much about the maneuvering that goes on behind scenes. I suspect that your appointment will continue precarious no matter how strongly the parasite sealed you in position. So. Good luck in your balancing act.”
“Will the cludair keep the bargain they made with Chu?”
Qilasc flattened her small, powerful hands on the table. “If the starmen keep out of the forest. The cludair wish to live their lives undisturbed by intruders. The wood will be provided as agreed to maintain our privacy.”
Lushan chuckled. “Since that means we get a product without the expense of harvesting it, it is to our advantage to honor the agreement.” He rubbed a long forefinger beside his mouth. “As long as we can make a reasonable profit on the amount of wood you provide.”
Gwynnor leaned forward tensely. “The stolen maranhedd.”
Han glanced at the Synwedda. “What happens if I keep it?”
“Do you enjoy thunderstorms?”
“Not particularly.” Eyes narrowed, he glanced at the empty sky, then at her thin face. “It usually doesn’t rain this time of year.”
“And in the past few days there were two major storms.”
“You?”
“I demonstrate.” The Synwedda gestured and a miniature cloud, a small, black thunderhead the size of a double fist, formed over Lushan’s head. A tiny lightning bolt sizzled past his nose, then the cloud opened up and poured rain on his undefended head.
Sputtering, he shoved his chair back and batted at the cloud, which followed as he moved his head. “All right.” He used both hands to wipe rain from his face, a futile gesture since the tiny cloud continued to squeeze rain from its interior. “I get the message!”
The Synwedda lowered her hand and the cloud evaporated.
Brushing the water from his head and shoulders, Lushan pulled the chair back and sat. “The maranhedd that was stolen will be returned.” He frowned. “Where?”
“Here,” the Synwedda said briskly. “I’ll see it is redistributed.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Each month a supply of maranhedd was sent to the City. That is not negotiable.”
The Synwedda pursed her lips. “Maranhedd partakes of the sacred for the cerdd.”
Han Lushan shook his head slowly. “You know the alternative, Synwedda. You and your predecessors accepted the necessity long ago. No one man could negate that agreement. It is Company policy. If you try, I have no choice. I’m sure you don’t want to force this issue. Put me in a box and I will get out of it, however I must.”
The Synwedda looked across at Aleytys.
Aleytys nodded. “Unless you want to make it an all-out fight, you must keep the pact. However, I wouldn’t presume to advise you. You know your strength and the needs of your world.”
Quietly, the old woman touched her fingertips together. “The shipments will continue.”
Sioned licked her lips, then slapped her hand on the table. “You’re all forgetting. My father was killed! My mother was killed! Gwynnor, how can you even listen? Your father, too. They killed him! They stole the cerdd. Where are our people?”
Gwynnor looked at her in surprise, then nodded his agreement. Her hand came down on his arm. He could feel her trembling with pain and anger.
Lushan shook his head, his eyes hard. “You can’t blame that on me or the Company. Manhanu took them when he was ridden b
y the parasite.”
The Synwedda pressed her hand down hard on Sioned’s arm. “The children of Maeve will be returned. The dead must lie in the earth. Let them lie.” She flicked a finger at Gwynnor. “Your life should be unfolding, not twisting back on itself. Don’t poison your children with your present anger.” She turned back to Han Lushan. “You will find and return the stolen cerdd.”
He was relaxed and smiling but his eyes were chill. “I see no profit in keeping them.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “In return for my time and effort, I’d like to see the cerdd return to the market village and open the market again.”
Synwedda nodded. “I will send word.” She turned to Sioned and Gwynnor. “I will also expect your cooperation in this,” she said firmly.
Gwynnor nodded, though he felt Sioned’s fingers digging into his arm muscles. “There’s something else. The drieu Dylaw.” He fixed his dark-green eyes on Lushan’s face. “We haven’t got anything to say about what he does.”
Lushan shrugged. “We’ll deal with him. Every house has vermin in the walls.”
The two cludair stood. Qilasc bowed her silver head. “There’s no reason for us to stay longer. What we came to do has been done. The forest calls.”
Tipylexne walked around the table and touched Aleytys’ shoulder. “May your days be blessed, Lawilwit, wise one. And may you find what you search for.”
She touched the hand pressing down on her shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder if I really know what that is.”
“You will.”
He turned and moved with a quiet dignity out of the garden, one step behind Qilasc.
Gwynnor stood. “It’s time we were leaving if we are to get home before dark.” He bowed slightly to Lushan. “Not long ago, I would have fought you without compromise. You don’t belong here. I haven’t changed my mind about that. But I’ve learned to accept the reality of power. You have the power.” He shrugged. “If cooperating with you will make life easier for the cerdd, you have my cooperation.” He pulled Sioned up beside him, feeling her resentment and resistance to letting Lushan escape punishment. “I’m sure you realize it will take some time to get the cerdd to trust your intentions.”
“Intentions, phah! It’s a matter of business.”
Gwynnor felt Sioned stiffen. “Shut up, love,” he muttered. He pulled her away from the table and started moving out of the garden. At the arch, he turned. “Point taken, Lushan. A cerdd knows the value of his goods. We can deal.” He gazed at Aleytys for a long minute then waved to her and pulled Sioned into the corridor with him.
Aleytys yawned and wriggled in her chair. Switching to interlingue, she reported lazily to Grey what had happened. “Another chapter closed. I think it’s time for us to go, too.”
Lushan strolled over to them. “Hunters Associates?”
“Yes. You got a skimmer out there?” He nodded toward the west where the exit of the building was situated.
“On the jetty. You want a lift?”
“Right.”
“Her?”
“She belongs with me.”
Lushan glanced at Aleytys. “I wish I’d known that before.” He touched her hair where it fell over her shoulder. “Hunter. Fantastic. McNeis, after all?”
“My god, you don’t give up. No, Lushan. I am not McNeis. Not. I hope you hear it this time.” She stepped away from him. “Grey, I have to stop on Star Street for a few minutes to tie up some loose ends.”
Grey chuckled. “Going to kiss Dryknolte goodby?”
“Hah!” She turned and bowed to the Synwedda. Switching to the cathl maes, she said, “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“No. May your days and ways be blessed, Aleytys.”
Aleytys bowed again and glared at the two men until they did likewise. An acolyte waited in the corridor to guide them out. As they followed the gliding white figure, Aleytys turned to Lushan. “Has that gratitude you mentioned melted away yet?”
“No.” She could feel a wary withdrawal.
She turned back to the hunter. “Grey?”
“What?”
“How many ships do you and your people have at the port?”
“None. Just a lander, later. If I can convince the University people that the parasite is really destroyed.”
“You expect that to be hard?”
He shrugged. “Take time.”
“Still got room for me?”
“There’s room.”
“Han Lushan.”
“My will is yours.”
“Lovely. I want you to ground all other ships until the Hunters are away.”
“And you?”
“Me with them. I’ve got a little problem I’d prefer to leave behind. Far behind.”
“I hate to see what would make you run scared.”
“Nothing that would bother you. Will you do it?”
“How long do you want me to keep the lid on?”
“Seven hours standard. Beginning soon as we get back to Star Street.”
“Done.”
She chuckled. “And you’d rest more easily with us somewhere else.”
At the front of the temple, the acolyte turned. In her hidden hands she held Aleytys’ pack. Aleytys took it and slung it over her back, following the others out onto the redstone path. They walked down the neatly raked rock, feet crunching solidly, marring the smooth surface with their kick-toed prints. At the top of the stairs, they stopped a moment. The skimmer rested on the jetty below but it was a steep climb and all three were tired. Aleytys looked out across the bay.
Drawing close to the outflow of the river, a triangular sail was a fragment of brilliant white against the blue sparkle of the water. Gwynnor and Sioned. Halfway home again. Aleytys felt a sudden pang, close to jealousy. Home. A sane, ordered life. She pulled her gaze away and looked to the north. A second sail was on point of dipping behind the horizon. The cludair, going back to the forest. Going home.
Lushan’s gaze was fixed on the dark blotch against the western horizon that marked the position of the city. He turned impatiently. “If you want to come with me, get a move on.”
Aleytys jumped. She ran her hands over her face, then stretched with a long groan. “Funny, this is the first time I leave a world without having precipitated some kind of massacre. I like the feeling.” She touched Grey’s arm. “I just might like being a Hunter, after all.”
Han looked at Grey accusingly. “You implied she was already a Hunter.”
“She will be.” He moved to the head of the booming stairs. “What’s the difference?”
As Aleytys started to follow, Lushan caught hold of her arm. “Stay here. I’ll top any offer he made you.”
Aleytys glanced over her shoulder at him. “Changed your mind?”
“Now that I know you’re not one of them.”
“You’d use my talents cleverly, Han Lushan. I see that.” He pulled at her arm but she jerked loose. “I suppose I could do well for myself here.” Shaking her head, she moved down a step, then looked up into his frowning face. “Grey offers me freedom. You, a larger trap.” Without waiting for an answer, she began running down the echoing steps.
Chapter XIII
Although it was only midafternoon, Star Street was empty, most shops and bars shuttered. Apparently the inhabitants of the enclave, along with visitors and crews, were keeping their heads low after the events of last night.
The cookshop was open. Aleytys pushed through the beads and crossed to the counter. Bran was briskly washing mugs and glasses, setting them to drain on the rack beside the sink. There was no one else in the shop.
Aleytys slid onto the stool and tapped on the counter with a half-drach piece. “Cup of cha.”
Bran wheeled, almost dropping the soap-slippery glass in her hand. She grinned broadly, then sobered. “You stirred up something, hon. You want to be careful.”
“I just came to say goodby. I couldn’t leave Maeve without thanking you.”
Bran shook her head. �
��You’re a fool to come back. Them spiders were caterwaulin’ about, threatenin’ to level the place if they couldn’t find you. Dryknolte looked fit to kill someone if he breathed funny. Tintin nearly had a heart attack when he thought you’d stiffed him. And the lid blew off the whole mess when they found your pet spy knocked cold in a doorway. You should have killed him. He’s got one hell of a hate built up for you.”
“Sounds like Star Street was jumping for awhile.”
“Crawlin’ with Company lice after that. The rest of us dived under cover. Deadest night and mornin’ I seen in years.”
“Mm. Mad at me?”
“Not me.”
“Well, I finagled a ride offworld, so things will quiet down soon.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a small packet, a lumpy object wrapped in a paper napkin. “I wanted to give you these. Nobody’s looking for them, so wear them in peace.”
When Bran unfolded the napkin, a pair of earrings dropped onto the counter. Made for pierced ears, they were stylized flower shapes around firedrop centers, of a delicate filigree worked in pure gold. The filigree of one was a little bent and Bran smoothed it flat with her thumb. The two firestones were large and clear without any of the black stippling that marred so many of them. She touched the stones and saw them brighten, the fires beginning to glow in their crimson hearts. “They can’t be real.”
“I don’t know.” Aleytys hopped off the stool and stood beside the counter. “The being who owned them before wasn’t the kind to fool with imitations.” As Bran looked up, she continued hastily, “And is in no condition to worry about jewelry now.”
Bran stroked the glowing stones. Reluctantly, she said, “They’re too valuable to give away.”
“Not to me. What you gave me means a hell of a lot more.” She moved across to the curtain while Bran was still staring down at the earrings. “Think about me sometimes, will you?”
It was a hot, sunny day with a little breeze kicking at littered paper scraps and broken cups. But the street was still empty of people. She glanced at Dryknolte’s tavern, wishing she could somehow get hold of the harp for Shadith, but there was no way she could think of to do that. At the side gate, she used her talent to switch off the iris and walk through without disturbing the guard.