Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  “You’re late,” said the servant who was waiting for them at the gatehouse. He hustled them past the guards and on toward the high arched doorway that led into the Keep.

  As they passed under it, Kusac looked up, seeing the metal spikes that formed the base of the raised portcullis. “You were right about that,” he murmured, drawing her attention to it.

  “Universal constant—like the wheel,” she said. “I’ve noticed lots of them on … back home,” she said, a shiver running through her as she realized she’d almost said Shola.

  “Lord Bradogan is waiting,” said the servant, his tone reproachful as they slowed down to look around the entrance hall. “We must hurry.”

  They followed him across to the stone staircase at the far side of the hall. As they climbed, their footsteps echoed eerily in the narrow stairwell. The wall on their left ended and abruptly, they found themselves in a well lit anteroom. There was nothing in the way of furniture and across from them they could see Assadou perched uncomfortably on a chest. Only one of his Sumaan retainers accompanied him this time.

  He looks like a child, thought Carrie as they crossed the wooden floor to join him.

  They’re arboreal, remember? sent Kusac. His legs are short and really only suited to gripping tree branches. That’s why he uses a powered chair. And the gravity is too heavy for him.

  Is he going to walk in?

  Kusac shrugged as they stopped opposite the obviously distressed Chemerian.

  “Wait here,” said the servant, disappearing through a doorway.

  “You’re late!” said Assadou, wringing his hands, the edges of his large ears quivering uncontrollably. “You request this audience! Why you not here on time? Keeping Lord Bradogan waiting like this is most unacceptable!”

  “It was unavoidable, Assadou,” said Kusac, looking down at the small being. “We’re only a couple of minutes late, nothing to be so concerned about.”

  Carrie sighed with relief as the door opened, preventing Assadou from replying.

  The servant held it wide for them. “Lord Bradogan will see you now.”

  “Can I help you, Assadou?” Kusac asked as the Chemerian began to push himself off the chest.

  “Can manage,” he snapped, steadying himself against it before beginning to walk painfully and slowly into the inner chamber.

  As he moved away from it, the Sumaan bent to retrieve the chest.

  Bradogan insists that Assadou walk in, sent Carrie furiously. He’s humiliating him on purpose!

  We were warned about Bradogan, replied Kusac. It’s bad enough that Assadou has to put up with being treated like this, but for us to see it too … Had I known, I wouldn’t have humiliated him further by offering to help. I should have checked. His tone was regretful.

  Their progress was by necessity slow and Carrie took the opportunity to look around her. Like Kusac, she was aware of Bradogan’s presence, but she was damned if she was going to acknowledge it until she had to.

  This is how I always imagined a castle should look, she sent to Kusac. The walls had been faced with panels of rich brown wood with heavy decorative tapestries hung at regular intervals, their colors were a glowing testament to Tirak’s earlier praise. Mainly of hunting scenes, they featured men on their riding beasts accompanied by packs of some canine creature more domesticated than the tarnachs used as guard dogs outside in the Port.

  Ornately carved sideboards and chests were set against the walls, with an occasional highbacked plain chair between them. Lighting, though modern, was subdued and gentler on her eyes than that they’d encountered so far.

  Now, Carrie looked ahead to the long table. Behind it Bradogan lounged, with studied indifference. It was the man they’d seen earlier, and being closer to him did nothing to dispel her instinctive dislike and wariness.

  A youngish man, probably in his thirties, Carrie surmised. His face had a lean hardness about it which the neatly trimmed beard and mustache only accentuated. As they drew to a stop in front of him, he sat up in his chair, resting his elbow on the padded arm. Cool brown eyes regarded them impassively.

  From one end of the table, a scribe looked up. “Trader Assadou Chikoi, Lord Bradogan, seeking a permit for his agent and the Solnian Representative to accompany a cargo containing his goods to Lord Tarolyn of Galrayin.”

  Bradogan rested his chin on his hand and surveyed the small Chemerian in front of him. “Why do you think it necessary for these people to accompany your cargo?” he asked. “Aren’t my soldiers enough guarantee for you?”

  “Is valuable cargo, Lord Bradogan,” said Assadou, inclining his upper body as low as it would go. “New trade goods from Sol. The female,” he indicated Carrie, “is Representative from there.”

  Bradogan’s dark brows met in a frown. “Why wasn’t I apprised of this world before, Trader? And of the visiting Representative? You make me appear inhospitable by your own lack of courtesy.”

  “We only arrived last night, Lord. Sent word today.” Assadou’s ears were beginning to curl and uncurl all along the outer edges as he became more nervous. “Give you assurances that insult not intentional.” He turned to Carrie, grasping her by the hand and tugging her forward. “Solnian Representative, Lord Bradogan. Carrie Aldatan.”

  His hand trembled as it clutched her, tugging firmly downward to let her know a sign of her respect was required.

  “Lord Bradogan,” she said, inclining her head in his direction. Though he concealed it well, she could feel his intense interest in her.

  “A pleasure to welcome you to Jalna, Carrie Aldatan,” he said. “Had the Trader informed me of your arrival earlier, I would have invited you to dine with me tonight. Perhaps tomorrow evening?” His voice was quiet and deep. Persuasive.

  Let him see the predator in your eyes, sent Kusac.

  “My schedule is tight, Lord Bradogan,” she said, looking directly at him and increasing her discouragement field. “My people wish me to assess the potential market for our goods, then return. They are anxious to formalize trade agreements with your people.”

  Surprise made him sit up, then look away. “Another time,” he said, turning his attention to Assadou. “Why have I seen none of the Solnian trade goods?” he demanded.

  The Chemerian gestured to his guard, who stepped forward to place the chest on the table in front of Bradogan. Unfastening the catch, he opened the lid.

  “Are for you, Lord Bradogan. A gift from Sol.”

  Bradogan leaned forward and pulled the chest closer. “Tallis!” he called. “Your opinion is required.”

  The floor length curtain behind Bradogan parted and Tallis stepped into the room. Walking round behind his Lord, he stopped at his left hand, looking over at Carrie and Kusac before examining the contents of the chest.

  Carrie almost forgot to breathe as she watched the Sholan telepath. She didn’t dare send to Kusac in case Tallis picked it up. Their constant Leska Link they could do little about, but Tallis seemed totally unaware of it. In fact, if he was using his Talent, she couldn’t sense it at all.

  La’quo, sent Kusac. He’ll be wearing a talisman. Try him, carefully. Reading aliens is your gift. The drug is affecting his Talent.

  Tallis took a sample of silk from the chest, running it through his hands before passing it to Bradogan. “Our jotha is superior,” he murmured. Next he took out a small case containing a necklace of amber beads. As he held it up toward one of the lights, Bradogan reached out and took it from him, examining each bead closely.

  Carrie took advantage of the moment to reach for Tallis’ mind. She could sense nothing, no activity where there should have been. Puzzled, she widened her search, looking on mental wavelengths that belonged in the personal ranges they used. Nothing from him, but Kaid was there.

  Touch him. The talisman blocks it. It worked with Jeran who isn’t even a telepath, sent Kaid.

  Moving closer, Carrie reached into the chest, her hand going straight for the box containing the pearls. “Let me show you these,�
�� she said, lifting the lid and picking up one of the larger ones. Holding it between forefinger and thumb, she let him look before putting it into his waiting palm. Continuing to hold his hand, she pushed the pearl around, letting him see the faint iridescent colors.

  “A freshwater pearl,” she said. “From one of our river-dwelling mollusks.”

  The contact was enough. She tightened her hold, taking control of his mind.

  Tallis. Stay calm or we’re all lost. Help is here. Tonight, when you retire, take off the talisman. It prevents us from contacting you. We’ll speak then. Do you understand?

  Yes. The thought was faint but unmistakable.

  Gradually Carrie released her hold till Tallis was once more in control of himself. The pearl in his palm wobbled toward the edge of his hand and would have fallen off had she not caught it. Returning it to the box, she set it down on the table and stepped back beside Kusac.

  “We have nothing like that on Jalna,” said Tallis, his voice a trifle shaky. He turned to his Lord. “These are handsome gifts, Lord Bradogan. Lord Tarolyn will certainly be interested in them. I would grant them the permits.”

  Bradogan nodded and signaled to the scribe. “Write them a permit.”

  “I thank you, Lord Bradogan. I’m glad our gifts are pleasing,” said Assadou, bowing in thanks.

  “Next time, bring Representative Aldatan to me sooner, Assadou,” he said. “I trust your trip to Galrayin will be uneventful, Representative. Despite Assadou’s fears, most of them are,” he said, smiling at Carrie.

  She watched while Assadou bowed low again, a gesture that was beyond the capability of his fragile body. Anger rose in her, hers and Kusac’s.

  The scribe passed the document to Bradogan for him to sign and seal. That done, Bradogan held it out to Carrie. As she reached for it, he withdrew it, making her step closer to take it from him.

  “Till we next meet,” he said, this time holding her gaze and smiling.

  Carrie inclined her head, making no effort to tug the permit from him until he released it. “My thanks, Lord Bradogan,” she said, turning and walking swiftly to the door at the far end of the chamber. She had to force herself not to wrench the knob off in her hurry to leave. In the anteroom, she paced back and forth impatiently till Kusac and Assadou joined her. Like a silent shadow, the Sumaan shut the door behind them and waited.

  “You endanger all by your hasty exit!” hissed the angry Chemerian. “Why you not wait, show proper respect for Lord? He give you what you want! Is fine way to show thanks!”

  Carrie rounded angrily on him, just managing to keep her voice low. “Don’t make me start, Assadou! You may be able to abase yourself before someone like that, but I will not! I’ve had enough of your smarmy attitude to him and your arrogance to us! You’d do well to remember a few realities of life! Now leave me alone, or by Vartra, I’ll snap that scrawny little neck of yours! I’ve been looking for an excuse to do it for weeks!” She turned on her heel and stalked down the stairs to the hall below.

  Assadou looked nervously at Kusac. “Is volatile,” he ventured. “Had not thought her capable of this.”

  “Be thankful you are a Chemerian,” said Kusac, his voice a low rumble of annoyance as he moved toward the stairs. “She would never attack one smaller than herself.”

  The sound of raised voices drifted up from below.

  “Go after her,” begged Assadou. “She get herself and us into trouble with that temper!”

  “No. Those who cross her get into trouble, Assadou,” he growled, starting downstairs.

  By the time he reached the entrance, a small crowd of soldiers from the guardroom had gathered. Carrie stood to one side, massaging her knuckles. Ignoring them, he joined her and together they left the Keep.

  “What happened?” he asked as they passed through the gates into the spacers town.

  “One of them propositioned me, much the same way Bradogan did,” she said shortly. “Was stupid enough to try and take hold of me.”

  “Uh huh.” He walked beside her as she pushed her way through the throng toward the Travelers Inn. “He’s dead, then.”

  Startled, she glanced at him. “No,” she grinned, her anger dissipating. “Broken wrist only.”

  “We’ll stay clear of Bradogan,” he said.

  “I want something strong to wash the taste of that place out of my mouth,” she muttered. “That male is just so … disgusting! I have no love for our tree-climbing Trader, but to treat him like that was calculated cruelty!”

  “They’re bound to have spirits for sale,” said Kusac, pushing a Jalnian out of his way as the man stumbled against him. His torrent of abuse followed them, getting fainter as they approached the inn.

  Carrie pushed the door open and headed for the bar. They’d just gotten there when a fight broke out in the center of the Jalnian area. Instantly, Kusac pushed her to one side, making sure he was between her and the trouble.

  Sensing someone standing beside her, she looked round to find Tirak by her elbow.

  “It’s always bad at this time of year,” he said. “The heat only makes it worse. Best to let them get on with it. Bradogan’s men will be along any time. They’re used to it.”

  “I thought the talismans were supposed to prevent it, or is this just an ordinary brawl?”

  “From the looks of it, no. The Jalnians have only just started preventing anyone without a talisman from entering the town.”

  The brawl, which had originally involved three people, had spread and was boiling toward them.

  Tirak took hold of her arm. “I think we move to our own area,” he said, nodding toward the direction from which he’d come.

  Carrie pulled free and opened her mouth as Kusac’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, tightening warningly.

  “Good idea,” he said, pushing her in front of himself as they accompanied Tirak. “Thank you for coming over.” You’re picking up their anger, cub. Tirak’s looking out for you, that’s all.

  With ulterior motives!

  No matter. He’d do nothing to hurt you. Increase your shielding, you’re too sensitive to these Jalnians.

  The hand on her shoulder moved slightly till it was hidden beneath her hair, then she felt his touch become gentler as his fingers caressed her throat, sending the magic of the Link flowing through them both. She groaned as their minds began to become one, causing Tirak to turn round in concern.

  “What happened?” he asked, looking from one to the other.

  “Nothing,” said Carrie hastily.

  “We have work to see to tomorrow that’ll keep us on the ship,” said Kusac. This explains a lot, he sent. No wonder Bradogan and that guard showed an interest in you, to say nothing of Tirak! Turn your damper up to full.

  It is! I think we better leave. She looked round, hovering between sitting and standing.

  No. It’ll draw attention to us, he sent, pushing her down onto the seat before sitting down himself.

  “Ah,” said Tirak, moving round to resume his place at the table. He nodded toward the door. “Bradogan’s men are here. And one of mine,” he added, seeing Sheeowl returning.

  Carrie used the excuse of turning round to move closer to Kusac. Though they’d had Link days on the ship, there had at least been privacy. On this alien world, there was none, and they were on a mission. Knowing this didn’t make it easier, she thought, resting her hand on his leg. They were so used to being able to touch each other that trying to remember not to was extremely difficult.

  Kusac’s hand covered hers, their fingers interlacing. Out of sight under the table like this, with the distraction of Bradogan’s men breaking up the fight, they weren’t likely to be noticed.

  There’s something about you at this time, a glow that makes you even more desirable, he sent. We’ll stay a few minutes, no more, then go upstairs.

  Not to the ship?

  Not tonight, not with these spates of violence. We’ll leave early and spend the day in our quarters.

  As
she smiled at him, she realized Tirak was watching her closely. Tirak!

  I know. He let her go and turned to glance at the fight. Bradogan’s guards had descended indiscriminately on anyone involved or in the vicinity of the fight and were hauling them out into the street.

  Tirak’s mouth split open in a grin. “I think your friend has more on her mind than sitting talking tonight.”

  “Just a little nervous,” Kusac said. “Not used to bar brawls.”

  “If she intends to become a trader, she’d better get used to them,” Tirak said, beckoning one of the servants over. “Bring three kirris,” he said.

  “Kirris? They have kirris here?” asked Kusac, his tone surprised.

  “The Chemerians will export their drinks anywhere,” said Tirak. “It’s good for stiffening the spine,” he said to Carrie.

  Why did you have to say I was nervous? she asked, her mental tone irritable.

  Simplest answer. The fight had me worried.

  Sheeowl joined them. “I thought you were going elsewhere, Captain,” she said.

  “I did, but the lady was off duty tonight. You should come with me tomorrow,” he said to Kusac. “There are some interesting females at the Spacer’s Haven.”

  Kusac snorted, waiting till the returning servant had put down the drinks and been paid before continuing. “I’ve no interest in these Jalnian females.”

  “Not Jalnian. You wouldn’t be when you have such a beautiful companion of your own,” said Tirak gallantly, passing a glass to Carrie then one to Kusac. “But one like us, perhaps?”

  Kusac froze with the glass halfway to his mouth. “An U’Churian?” he said in disbelief.

  “Not U’Churian, but like enough to pass as one of us. That’s her value here, that she seems one of us.”

  “She has a name, this female?” he asked, sipping his drink.

  “Tesha, if memory serves me. She’s certainly popular.”

  In a whorehouse? Gods, we have to get her out as soon as possible, Kusac!

  “I’d be pleased to keep Carrie company if you wished to visit her,” Tirak added.