The Sixth Discipline

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The Sixth Discipline Page 38

by Carmen Webster Buxton


  ***

  Stefan Hayden took the camera Hiram Toth handed him and clipped it onto his collar. “Now, you remember what I said,” he repeated, for the assembled guards’ benefit. A squad of his security staff sat in two rows in the belly of the flyter, ready to go, just in case. “You monitor me every minute, but you don’t make a move unless I call for you or I’m actually attacked.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hiram said. “I don’t mind telling you, Baron, I’ll be glad when you and Miss Francesca are both out of there.”

  “So will I,” Stefan said. “But I confess, I’m looking forward to meeting Ran-Del’s ancestors.” He glanced over at the monitor behind Toth. “Everything’s still okay with Francesca’s vital signs?”

  Toth turned and checked the panel. “She’s just fine, sir. Still no readout on the wild man since last night. Maybe they got the band off of him the same way they cut the cable?”

  “Maybe,” Stefan agreed, walking past the squad to the small, square platform set into the floor of the stern-most part of the flyter. “I’d better get going. Set me down now, will you, Toth?”

  Hiram stepped to another console and activated a switch. There was a low humming sound, and the transport pad began to move downward.

  When he was halfway to the ground, Hiram’s voice called down to him. “Good luck, Stefan!”

  Stefan waved as the platform descended swiftly through the canopy of trees and into the shade of the forest.

  After the pad set down on the ground, Stefan consulted the position indicator on his com and set off through the trees. He came to a path and started down it. After a short while, he spotted a tiny pile of pebbles with a scrap of gold-colored cloth, the mark of the Falling Water People. He was in the right place.

  A moment later, a flash of russet moving behind a tree caught his eye. They were letting him know he was being watched. He kept walking, and in a few minutes, a gray-haired man stepped onto the path. Stefan recognized him and stood politely, waiting for the older man to speak first.

  “I greet you, Stefan Hayden,” the Sansoussy said.

  “I greet you,” Stefan said with a bow of respect. “I don’t know your name, but I suspect you're Ran-Del Jahanpur’s grandfather.”

  “I am Isayah Jahanpur,” the man said. “And Ran-Del is my grandson.” He studied Stefan Hayden for a moment, and Stefan knew that his mind was being probed as much as was allowed for strangers just meeting.

  “You’ve been watching us?” Isayah said.

  “Yes,” Stefan said. “I wanted to be sure Francesca was safe. She’s my only child.”

  “I lost my only child long ago,” Isayah said. “Ran-Del is all I have left of him.”

  Stefan had the grace to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry; I was desperate. I would have let him send you word, eventually.”

  Isayah didn’t answer at once. “Come,” he said abruptly. “Francesca is eager to see you.”

  Stefan followed the Sansoussy as he led the way. After a few minutes, they came to the edge of the village. It looked much like Vivek Nayar’s village, except that it was larger and even more spread out.

  Isayah walked swiftly past several houses. People working in their gardens looked up as they passed and gave them curious glances but no one spoke until an attractive young woman with golden hair stopped hoeing a row of vegetables and stepped over to the path.

  “Good afternoon, Isayah,” she called.

  Stefan was surprised at the older Sansoussy’s reaction. He looked almost angry as he replied curtly; he didn’t even pause to speak to her, but kept walking past her without a backward glance.

  When Stefan looked back, the woman smiled smugly and went back to her work.

  Isayah led the way to a large, rambling house in the center of the village. Stefan followed him through a storage room, and then into what looked like a bedroom. The Sansoussy kept going through it into another bedroom. Sitting on the low bed, looking thoroughly disgusted was Stefan's only child.

  “Pop!” she cried, jumping up and throwing her arms around him as Isayah slipped from the room.

  “Francesca!” Stefan responded, hugging her so tightly that she squeaked.

  She hugged him back for a few seconds and then pushed him away. “Where the hell have you been, Pop? And what do you mean by dumping me out in the middle of nowhere without so much as a change of clothes?”

  “I’m glad to see you, too.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Talk, Pop! Give me an excuse for chaining me to a man with a flexitron cable only two meters long. Do you have any idea what it was like, being dragged across the countryside by an angry Sansoussy?”

  Stefan looked her up and down, immensely relieved to see her looking so well. “You seemed to have survived unharmed. Sansoussy clothes suit you nicely.”

  Francesca made a face. “Humph! For all you knew, I’d been eaten by coyotes!”

  Stefan took her right wrist and tapped the manacle. “On the contrary, I knew you were in good health, and I always knew right where you were. There’s a transponder in each of these, along with a medical monitor to check your vital signs.”

  His explanation made Francesca look even more annoyed. “I should have known you’d have a way to check up on me.” She shot a closer look at his collar. “Is that a camera?”

  Stefan nodded. “Say hello to Toth. I’m sure he’s relieved to see you.”

  Francesca smiled and waved at the camera. “Hello, Hiram. Can he hear us, Pop?”

  Stefan pulled the camera from his collar, and then switched off the audio. “Not now,” he said, restoring the camera to its position on his collar. “Did you need to tell me something, Francesca?”

  “You bet I do.”

  There was a soft scratching on the door frame and the curtain was pulled back. Isayah came back into the room. “My father would like to see you, Stefan Hayden.”

  Stefan looked at his daughter.

  She shrugged. “Looks like you’re going to hear it from someone else.”

  “All right,” Stefan said to Isayah. “I’d like to meet your father.”

  Isayah had no objection to Francesca’s accompanying them, so the three of them made their way to Ji-Ran Jahanpur’s great room.

  The old shaman sat in a high-backed carved chair. A woman with gray-streaked hair sat, silent and disapproving, on a smaller chair on one side of the room. Stefan guessed her to be Ran-Del’s grandmother, because Ran-Del stood very close to her. Ran-Del’s resigned expression hardened into anger when he looked at Stefan, but he said nothing.

  Isayah stayed back and let Stefan approach his father alone. Stefan stopped the proper distance away, and bowed his head respectfully.

  Ji-Ran Jahanpur chuckled faintly. “You have very good manners for a kidnapper. I greet you, Stefan Hayden.”

  “I greet you, Ji-Ran Jahanpur,” Stefan said, raising his head to look the old shaman full in the face.

  “Sit,” Ji-Ran said, waving to a stool on his other side. “You’ve met my son. This is Mina, his wife.” He nodded to the disapproving woman.

  Stefan took a seat cautiously. He hadn’t expected to be treated so courteously, not after what he had done.

  Ji-Ran Jahanpur must have read his surprise. “It’s fortunate for you that I had psy sense enough to find Ran-Del. He’d never have stayed willingly in your city, and Francesca is too fond of him to trick him.”

  Stefan shot a surprised look at his daughter who had taken a seat on a bench a little behind him. When she made no comment, he turned back to the shaman. “It was an ill-considered plan. Ideas born of desperation are often wild and unmanageable.”

  “True,” Ji-Ran said. “Yet even wild ideas can plant the seeds for a more well-thought out course of action.”

  Such a soft—and unexpected—answer! “I suppose they can.”

  “Do you still wish to marry your daughter to my great-grandson?” Ji-Ran asked politely.

  Stefan rocked on his heels. He looked at
Ran-Del and noted that his face had assumed a stony imperturbability, as if he were determined not to reveal his feelings. Could this be a trap of some kind, to trick Stefan into breaking a Sansoussy law so that he could be punished? Or could there still be hope for his plan?

  “It’s not a trick,” Ji-Ran said. “It’s an offer made in good faith. If your daughter is willing to marry Ran-Del, they can be betrothed tonight.”

  Stefan focused on not letting his jaw drop or his delight show. “Has Ran-Del agreed to this?”

  “He has.”

  Francesca jumped up from her seat, arms at her sides and hands clenched into fists. Stefan knew the signs. She was mad as hell. “Well, I’m not willing! Ran-Del only said yes after you burned half his arm off. You tortured him to make him say he’d do this, but you can’t make me go along with it.”

  Stefan looked from one Sansoussy face to the other, totally at a loss. Mina’s expression stayed calm, but Stefan could see that she was unhappy. Isayah looked grim. Ran-Del was still stone-faced, while his great-grandfather seemed unperturbed by the accusation.

  “Ran-Del,” Ji-Ran called. “Come here, please.”

  Ran-Del stepped forward so that he stood in front of his great-grandfather. Stefan noted with a shock the new scar tissue on his left arm.

  “Did I torture you, Ran-Del?” Ji-Ran asked.

  “No, Great-grandfather,” Ran-Del answered.

  “And did you agree to marry Francesca because I had burned you, or because I threatened to burn you again?”

  “No, Great-grandfather.”

  Francesca frowned. “I don’t believe it.”

  Ji-Ran raised his eyebrows. “Do you think Ran-Del is lying?”

  “No,” Francesca said, reluctance in her voice. “He wouldn’t lie. But you’re not telling the whole truth, either.”

  “I seldom do.” Ji-Ran smiled pleasantly at Francesca. “Very well, Francesca Hayden, if you choose not to marry Ran-Del, then he’ll go to your city as your father’s chattel. Is that acceptable to you, Stefan Hayden?”

  Stefan stared. What kind of game was the old shaman playing? Stefan had never heard of such a thing in any Sansoussy village. “You’re giving me Ran-Del?”

  “Yes.” Ji-Ran nodded. “He’s yours, to use as you see fit. You can make him into a guard, if you wish; he has enough psy sense to be useful for that purpose.”

  “Stop it!” Francesca looked ready to chew flexitron and spit it out.

  Ran-Del stood stock still and didn’t say a word.

  “You stop being hateful to Ran-Del, old man,” Francesca went on. “You’re only doing this to make me feel bad, so I’ll say yes, but it won’t work, because Pop won’t take Ran-Del back with us, will you, Pop?”

  Stefan didn’t answer right away. He glanced around the room, watching their reactions. Mina was looking pleased, perhaps because someone had told off her father-in-law. Isayah’s face gave nothing away, and Ran-Del was staring bleakly but determinedly at the floor. Ji-Ran Jahanpur smiled at Francesca and waited. What to do? If the old man was truly behind this plan, Stefan could still assure Francesca’s future—if she believed he’d take Ran-Del with them, no matter what.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” Stefan said slowly, “but it really is too good a thing to pass up. We’ll have someone who can tell us whether people are lying or telling the truth.”

  “Pop!” Francesca almost shouted. “It’s not fair.”

  “I know it’s not,” Stefan said. He had to play his cards carefully. Francesca could be stubborn. “But I’m prepared to be unfair.”

  Francesca looked even angrier, but Mina interrupted before she could reply.

  “Let them be alone,” she said to Ji-Ran. “Let Ran-Del and this woman talk together before she decides.”

  Did the older woman know something? Stefan studied her caste bracelet. It depended on what ability had earned her the three sky-gold beads—or maybe on how well she knew her grandson.

  Ji-Ran pondered for a few seconds and then nodded. “Very well. Ran-Del, take Francesca to your grandparents' quarters.”

  “Yes, Great-grandfather,” Ran-Del said woodenly. He waited at the door for Francesca, who seemed uncertain whether she wanted to follow him or not. Finally, she glared first at Stefan and then at Ji-Ran and turned to go.

  Stefan took a deep breath. He had cherished hopes of salvaging his plan in some way, but this level of assistance had never been on the agenda. He smiled at Ji-Ran Jahanpur. “Well, this has been very interesting.”

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