Convergence

by Sharon Green

  And Warla certainly must have obeyed, I realized as I took the small pouch she removed from the silk handbag which matched her suit. Even Warla wasn’t completely mine any longer, but I swallowed the urge to protest as I rose to put the pouch of silver in a safe place. There was no turning back now, not from the testing and certainly not from my plan to escape my parents. Nothing could be worse than what they had in mind for me, so going forward was nothing but a step in the right direction. It would not turn out to be just as bad … it couldn’t…!

  * * *

  Vallant Ro walked into the dining room slowly, still beyond moving quickly despite the nap he’d had. Nothing short of a full night’s sleep would help, he knew, but first he had to get something to eat. His insides were rumbling like a thunderstorm in the distance, and sight of the table set for eight was enough to make his mouth water. If the food wasn’t brought quickly, he just might attack whoever did bring it eventually.

  The thought of attacking anyone or anything right now made him chuckle to himself as he looked around. The room’s walls were papered in a boring floral pattern, but at least the dark rose drapes matched one of the colors in the paper and the seats of the chairs. The hardwood floor was polished to a spotless gleam, and the sideboard was a perfect match to the table and chairs. The chandelier was a bit much though, especially with most of its candles lit. That much crystal could easily blind the unwary, but once again it was a matter of cost taking precedence over taste.

  “Good evening, Dom Ro,” the girl Warla said, turning away from the two people already at the table. “Your place is here, between Dom Drowd and Dama Lant.”

  The empty chair she gestured to stood in the third and farthest place on the lefthand side of the table, just beyond a woman with dark red hair and next to a quiet-looking man who sat at the foot of the table. At least Vallant assumed that that was the foot. The head of it would be reserved for the woman who owned the house, and that brought to mind the girl who had lied in the bath house. Next to her, this redheaded woman who had been seated beside him looked brittle and slight in her prettiness. But if she didn’t lie, she would turn out to be the more attractive of the two. Warla bustled off to do something else, so Vallant went to his chair and sat.

  “It feels marvelous to get off one’s feet, does it not?” the man to Vallant’s left commented with a sigh. “I arrived here so late, I barely had time to use the bath house before being summoned to the meal. I’m Eskin Drowd, Earth magic.”

  “Vallant Ro, Water magic,” Vallant replied with a nod. “I’ve been here long enough to have gotten in a short nap, but it wasn’t much help. As soon as I’ve eaten as much as I can hold, I’m headin’ for bed.”

  “I intend to do likewise,” Drowd agreed in his pedantic way, and then he looked beyond Vallant. “And you, my dear? Would you care to introduce yourself to us?”

  “You must be joking,” the woman said with a small laugh, more ridicule than amusement. “You heard the girl tell you part of my name, so you have to know who I am. Everyone has always known my name and what I can do.”

  “My dear young woman, you really must be adult about this,” Drowd said to her gently but with inflexible firmness. “This empire happens to be extremely large, and not even the Seated Highs are known to everyone in it. To expect a mere applicant to be known beyond the boundaries of her own area is folly, and there is folly enough for each of us in this life without our deliberately adding to it. Others hearing your remark might well have laughed, but Ro and I are gentlemen. For that reason I repeat: would you care to introduce yourself?”

  “Ah, I understand now,” the girl said, finally settling into a smug expression. Her complexion had darkened with embarrassment while Drowd spoke, but that had abruptly changed. “You people must come from such tiny hamlets that you’re all but closed off to the world, and you’re trying to cover your lacks by pretending everyone knows as little as you do. You should have said that to begin with, and I would have understood. I’m Beldara Lant, Fire magic.”

  “And where do you come from, Beldara Lant?” Vallant couldn’t keep from asking. If there was anything more annoying than someone who always found a reason why they were right… “I’m from Port Entril myself, and I captain a trade ship up and down the coast. From what I’ve seen, Port Entril is kind of big to be called a hamlet.”

  “As is Regisard, my own place of birth,” Drowd said, smiling when Vallant raised his brows. “Yes, it’s also sometimes called University, as no less than five institutions of higher learning may be found there. As you may have surmised, my family has a tradition of teaching in those institutions. Should I find my current undertaking of sufficient interest to hold my attention, I may well be the first to break that tradition.”

  “May well be?” Beldara immediately snapped, back to being red-faced with embarrassment. “Now, that’s less of a surprise than it might be. Anyone who doesn’t know that being a Seated High is the only worthwhile thing to be in this life…! No wonder you haven’t heard of me. You aren’t bright enough to have found out about the really important things.”

  “Let me speculate a moment,” Drowd said with a faint smile as he sat back in his chair, studying the angry woman. “Either one or both of your parents have told you that all your life, about how no endeavor but being a High is worthy of your attention. They’re undoubtedly the same ones who constantly praised your use of the power, and assured you that you’re known both far and wide. Am I mistaken?”

  “Now you’re suggesting there’s something wrong with my parents telling me the truth?” Beldara snapped again, obviously trying to hide confusion. “They also said people here in Gan Garee would lie to me, so they were right there, too. Now you can save your breath, Eskin Drowd, because I’m not listening to lies any longer.”

  And with that she turned away to look at the other people who had been entering the dining room, throwing up an invisible wall that would allow nothing of “lies” to penetrate. Drowd sighed and made no further effort to reach the girl with simple common sense, but Vallant found himself disturbed. His own parents had always been supportive, but the only things they’d made their children believe in was the value of their own individual worth and the unacceptability of dishonorable behavior. That people could twist their children to satisfy their own desires was upsetting, and Vallant was more than happy not to pursue the subject.

  Especially since almost everyone else had now come in and taken places around the table at Warla’s direction. A man sat silently to Beldara’s right, dressed for all the world like a farmer and looking extremely uncomfortable and out of place. Directly across from Vallant was the fop Clarion Mardimil dressed in another of those ridiculous outfits, this time in blinding green. But the man nodded to him in a stiff but civil manner, so Vallant nodded back.

  And then he forgot about Mardimil to look at the woman seated to the man’s left. She had golden-blond hair and light eyes, and was as beautiful as the girl Vallant had seen in the bath house, just in a different way. This one seemed to be laughing silently at the world, her flawless skin glowing with the amusement. Even Mardimil was finding it hard not to stare at her, but the girl didn’t seem to mind or notice. She simply smiled and nodded to the farmer on Vallant’s side of the table, who darkened slightly but managed to smile back.

  The last of their number was another man, seated to the beautiful woman’s left, next to the empty chair at the head of the table. He was slight and dark and looked almost as uncomfortable as the farmer, which wasn’t hard to understand. His collarless shirt must have been matched by knee breeches and hose, the usual dress of grooms and stablemen. Vallant had never come into direct contact with one of them, not when he preferred a deck under his feet to a saddle under his rump, but he’d certainly seen enough of them.

  But none of that was causing any of the food to be brought out. Vallant stirred in his chair, more than willing to go looking for sustenance on his own if they weren’t served soon, but then two other women wal
ked in. One looked to be in her mid-thirties with the bearing of someone who considered herself really important, and that despite the smile she showed so obviously. The other was the girl he’d seen in the bath house, and Vallant was startled to realize that he hadn’t remembered just how beautiful she really was. Delicate and fragile, soft and helpless…

  And not looking happy at all. That observation filled Vallant with guilt, since he was probably the source of her unhappiness. The older woman was undoubtedly the owner of the house, and the girl now expected to be exposed as a liar. She stood lost in thought while the older woman called the stableman over to her, probably expecting Vallant to say something that would embarrass her even more, just as he’d planned to. Had planned to, but no longer did. It would be enough if he and the girl were the only ones to know what had passed between them.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the older woman said suddenly, pulling Vallant out of his stare. The stableman had already returned to his seat at the table, and Vallant hadn’t even noticed.

  “I’ll begin by introducing myself to you,” the woman continued, looking around at all of them with a smile. “I’m Lady Eltrina Razas, and I’ll be your liaison to the testing authority. The first thing you must know is that you’ll be expected to pay three silver dins a week if you intend to eat at this table—starting tonight. When I’m through speaking you’ll go and fetch the silver, and then give it to me.”

  There wasn’t quite a murmur at that, but Vallant thought it was only because none of them really knew each other. Sending people to live in a place after threatening their freedom, and then making them pay to eat! If Vallant had had any doubts about whether or not he wanted to continue associating with those people, that would have settled them.

  “Another thing some of you will have to fetch is your identification as an applicant,” the Lady Eltrina went on, now looking at them with a shade less friendliness. “You were told to wear it at all times, but half of you have come down here without it. From now on anyone appearing without identification will not be fed, even if he or she has already paid the necessary silver.”

  Now everyone looked around, to see that Mardimil, the beautiful woman next to him, the stableman, and Vallant himself no longer wore those chains and cards. Vallant had simply forgotten about his, but it looked like none of them would forget again. Score another direct hit on the possibility of a reasonable relationship with the people behind all this.

  “As a final matter, you must all be ready just after luncheon tomorrow for the carriages which will come for you,” Lady Eltrina said. “You will be taken to a tailoring shop which is familiar with our requirements, and there you will have fitted two outfits each for attending sessions in. The gentlemen will be given gray trousers and white shirts, and the ladies gray skirts and white blouses. You will also be expected to pay for the clothing, but a mere token rather than full price. If you use the shop afterwards to buy other, more usual clothing, then you’ll pay full price. Now be so kind as to fetch the silver—and your identification, if necessary—so that I may leave you to your meal and the rest you undoubtedly crave.”

  It wasn’t a happy group which rose from the table, but it also wasn’t a slow-moving group. Everyone was obviously just as hungry as Vallant, and the only way to make the food start coming was to pay. Tomorrow Vallant would visit his family’s bank and draw some gold, to replace what he would spend tonight and tomorrow at the tailor. He still had some silver left from what he’d been given at the start of the trip, but not all that much.

  And as he watched the girl from the bath house leave the room along with everyone else, he finally had to admit that he owed her an apology. Warla had told him that the owner of the house was named Tamrissa Domon, and the older woman had called herself Eltrina Razas. That left his bathing companion as Tamrissa, especially since she’d also worn her identification. He’d finally noticed that as well, after spending most of his time staring at her face. And that beautiful reddish-blond hair…

  Vallant sighed as he headed for the stairs along with everyone else. Tamrissa Domon attracted him in a way no other woman ever had, but he hadn’t come to Gan Garee to find a woman. In point of fact he’d decided against ever becoming entangled with a woman again, and he’d be a fool to forget that. So he’d simply find an opportunity to apologize to her, and then he’d be polite but distant. That ought to please her, at any rate; she hadn’t seemed to like him very much, which was actually a damned good thing.

  But which would have been a better thing if it hadn’t annoyed him so much…

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lorand was among the first to get back to the table after paying over his silver, but no one actually took their time. The hollowness inside him had to be present in everyone, even that pompous fool Mardimil. The “lord” had stopped to speak to the Razas woman on his way out of the dining room, but the conversation couldn’t have lasted very long. Mardimil had returned only moments behind Lorand, and he didn’t look the type to run.

  But he seemed to be a lucky type, having been seated next to Jovvi Hafford. Lorand wished he had the nerve to ask the man opposite to change seats with him, but they’d been assigned those seats and the man seemed to be as taken with Jovvi as Lorand felt. But at least she’d smiled and nodded to him, which was more than she’d done with any of the other men there.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you,” Eltrina Razas said at last, hefting the pouch she’d put the silver in. “Our business is concluded for the moment, so I wish you hearty appetites and a pleasant night. When I return, I’ll have your session schedules. Warla will name each of you for the others, and then you’ll be left to your own devices.”

  No one said anything to that, just the way they’d said nothing to any of her other comments. She wasn’t only a noble, she was someone who could make a hard time for them with the testing people. And she’d hesitate not a heartbeat to do it, that had been clear from the first despite her smiles. Lorand meant to stay well out of her way, a decision he probably had a lot of company in making.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the names are as follows,” the girl Warla said, sounding frightened to death rather than sure and confident the way Eltrina had. “At the head of the table is Tamrissa Domon, owner of this house. Beside her on her left is Lorand Coll, then Beldara Lant, then Vallant Ro, then Eskin Drowd, then Clarion Mardimil, then Jovvi Hafford, then Pagin Holter. Please enjoy your meal.”

  Her curtsy was hurried and very self-conscious, and the Razas woman was amused when she followed Warla out of the room at a much more leisurely pace. Lorand heard a very faint “Finally!” along with a sigh from the girl who had been named Tamrissa Domon, so he smiled at her.

  “I agree with that sentiment completely,” he told her in a soft voice. “In case you missed it I’m Lorand Coll, and I can remember a time when I wasn’t a mere shadow of my former self.”

  “I don’t think I qualify for the term, ‘mere shadow,’” Tamrissa answered with a smile that made her even more beautiful than she was naturally. In fact she was just as beautiful as Jovvi in a more innocent and open way, which made Lorand wonder where he’d gotten the nerve to speak to her.

  “I still weigh too much to call myself a shadow, but completely empty is another matter entirely,” the girl continued. “I was ready to eat as soon as I got back from the test, but at least the staff is beginning to serve now.”

  “I wonder what those sessions will be like,” Lorand remarked, mostly to keep himself from noticing the bread and cheese and soup that hadn’t quite reached the table yet. He would not make a pig of himself by immediately bolting down what was put in front of him… “I intend to pass whatever they throw at me just the way I did today, but I can’t help wondering what that whatever will turn out to be.”

  “It couldn’t be worse than what they did to us today, so I have very high hopes,” Tamrissa answered, obviously keeping herself from staring at the incredibly good-smelling soup that had been ladled into the
bowl which had been put in front of her. “I also intend to pass, no matter how hard they try to make me fail.”

  “I will pass,” the red-haired girl to Lorand’s left put in, joining the conversation as if she had every right to do so. “To say you ‘intend’ is to say you have doubts, and I have none. Since you heard my name you now know who I am, which certainly confirms what I said. I will be the Seated High, and nothing and no one can stop me.”

  “That’s all yer after?” the man opposite Lorand, Pagin Holter by the name on his identification card, put in hesitantly. “Wouldn’t mind havin’ thet m’self, but only fer consalayshun. It’s bein’ part o’one a them challenger Blendin’s I mean t’try fer, this bein’ a twenty-fifth year ’n all. Din’t you folks r’member thet?”

  Lorand thought the man had asked his question because of the way everyone was staring at him, even the people at the other end of the table. Holter was a small man and obviously far from the sort to push himself forward, but the fact that his voice had been hesitant hadn’t stopped it from being deep and carrying. Everyone seemed to have frozen in the midst of whatever they’d been doing, shock or surprise showing on each of their faces.

  “Yes, that’s right, I’d forgotten it was a twenty-fifth year,” Tamrissa said, apparently less affected by the announcement than Lorand and the rest. “Those of us who live in Gan Garee tend to be more aware of things like that, since the contests are always held here. I’ve heard they’re really something to see, but as far as being a part of it goes… The winning Blending rules for twenty-five years!”