One Love

by Pam Uphoff

  He smiled back, shook her hand and allowed her to retain it as she led him to a pair of chairs on the stage. "Thank you for inviting me, Miss Dear."

  "Oh, do call me Deary."

  "I'd rather not." . . . I probably should not have said that out loud.

  "Oh. My." The toothy grin expanded. "You are old fashioned!"

  "Very. Although I am trying to adjust. After all, it has been almost twelve years." Ra'd wondered briefly if there was some gas encouraging a loose tongue. Or perhaps there were some subtle spells in play.

  "You were just fifteen, at the Battle of Fort Rangpur. A Trainee."

  "Yes, but please understand that in the middle of a desperate war, it was on-the-job training. I killed a Chinese soldier when I was thirteen."

  "Thirteen!"

  "Yes. I was scouting and spying. With the right clothes and a few goats, I was taken for a Hindu peasant. Ignored. I would telepath ahead the strength of forces attacking us, the specific weapons."

  "And you killed one of them?"

  "Two soldiers had surprised another Warrior, were bringing their weapons to bear. I killed one. Kyle Emreson killed the other." Ra'd had to glance away. "My uncle. He died at Rangpur two years later."

  "Your uncle? Umm, your mother's father was Emre?" Her voice was a little high now.

  "Is. Yes, and Eltia was my maternal grandmother."

  She blinked and the teeth retreated a bit. "Oh. Umm, so you are . . . a Prophet."

  "I am a Warrior."

  ". . . as powerful as a Prophet? Stronger than a mere Oner?"

  "The abilities and strengths of the Prophets were individually variable. As are the One. The . . . evolutionary sorting and resorting of the genes of the Prophets has produced some very interesting abilities, widespread across the Empire. Sometimes in places you people seem to find very unexpected. Take Speed, for instance. I am privileged to know a man whom some fools call a Closey Upcomer Bastard. Which he says is technically accurate. He is faster than me. Faster than Isakson, which I didn't think possible.

  "All Oners, top to bottom, are unique, with individual skills, and should be judged as such. But then, the Prophets believed very strongly in the individual. They looked at the Multitude here, and saw equals."

  The teeth disappeared altogether. "The Multitude are not my equal!"

  "And that attitude is the one thing that I will never adjust to, in this modern world."

  ***

  Ra'd glanced over to where Rael was wiping tears of laughter from her face.

  "Fortunately, due to the advertising breaks, the show was only forty minutes long."

  Rael snorted, blew her nose. "I don't think she's ever punched a guest before."

  Qayg tsked. "I don't think she's ever punched anything harder than a pillow. I really enjoyed the way she cried and cradled her hand. Pity nothing was actually broken."

  "Ha!" Isakson clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job. They need to stop thinking we're just a quaint pair of over-hyped swaggerers. We knew the Prophets. We know how they thought before they trapped themselves in the knot of power."

  "Hmmph." His stepmother nodded. "They needed to stop thinking that you are just a Directorate Agent."

  She shook a finger in his face. "And you should not have insulted your friend in public. Even if he is a nice boy."

  Ra'd's turn to snort. "Ebsa was not insulted. In fact he is nearly impervious to insult.

  Qamar galloped in, a gangly twenty-two-year-old. "I can't believe you didn't hit her back!"

  "I was trying too hard to not laugh at her."

  "But I liked your speech."

  Rael started laughing again. "The part about how the Council wanting to go to war was 'like a hysterical woman throwing her best china at the wall in a fit of rage, after her husband has walked out and slammed the door behind him. Do you want Disco to walk out and close the gates?' Oh dear One."

  "They can close the gates anytime they want to. And don't think they can't take out our powered gates." Ra'd shrugged.

  "We know." President Orde walked up. Grinning. "And no doubt I'll be questioned about it at the next press conference. Just now however, those people who have been talking about making movies about what they think happened when you left the bag? They really want to talk to you."

  "Oh, yes. They will be so impressed by two stolen police cars, all the accidental damage we did in our rush. Electronic transaction fraud through mental manipulation. Assault on the ecclesiastical guard, both physical and mental. And, of course, refusing the One's right to take Isakson's son. And the One's refusal to accept his rejection. The One will not allow that to be known."

  "Especially after you called them thirty generations of perverted child abusers in a stuck Compass." The President of the Empire was failing to stifle snickers. "Live on Empire-wide vid."

  Paer glowered at him. "And they aren't perverts. They're all eunuchs."

  "Oh? And they don't commit sexual violence on ten-year-old boys?"

  " . . . Well . . . "

  "They need to stop. To disengage." Ra'd shrugged. "They need to obey their own rules, and allow the boys to refuse."

  Rael shifted. "They have the Comet Fall hormone repression spell now, and various herbal and medical methods."

  "Indeed. But do they allow boys to choose to not join the One? A mental rape as bad as the castration."

  "One! And as Ebsa's best man you are going to be on public display for another three months." Rael shook her head.

  "Perhaps Ajha can send me across for six weeks."

  "I'll mention the possibility." Orde snickered. "Ebsa will be back in a few days . . . I wonder if Deary will have the nerve to interview him?"

  Chapter Nine

  A Challenge

  Ebsa rocked to a halt as a man suddenly blocked his path.

  Oh, that minister’s son who was proposing to Paer at her birthday party. Evdu? I think?

  “Get out of my way, you pretender! You lying social climber!”

  “Hi, Evdu. How’re you doing?”

  "You are a coward. And a liar! We . . . I checked your financial status. Pathetic! What did you tell Paer? That you had family money? You are a lying coward!”

  “No, Paer knows all about me.” Ebsa sighed. I see where this is going. “And no. You can’t goad me into challenging you.”

  “Fine!” Evdu’s lips drew back in a snarl and he shoved two-handed at Ebsa.

  Ebsa sidestepped and let Evdu scramble to find his balance. Another step, not that he expected the confrontation to be over.

  In public. Out on the street in Gate City. With plenty of witnesses.

  “Then I challenge you to a duel!”

  “No.” Ebsa tried another step, and Evdu grabbed his arm.

  "You coward! You lying upcomer bastard. Turn and face me!" Evdu's lips drew back over his teeth in a savage snarl.

  "Doo, I am not a High Oner who has fenced all his life. You want to fence in a salle to prove you are a better fencer than me? I suppose I could oblige. Duel with pointed weapons? No."

  “I insulted you! I challenged you! You can’t just . . . !”

  "No. I'm a killer. I'm not enough of a fencer to think I could even try to injure you and end the fight. So if you come at me with a deadly weapon, screaming about how much you are going to enjoy killing me? My only options are to let you kill me, or to kill you."

  “You . . .”

  Ebsa shook his head at the poor idiot. "I would kill you. And in order to do that I'd have to throw everything I've got at you and kill you before you could engage swords with me. It would look bad. As if I'd egged you into challenging me so I could swat you like an insect."

  The red faced furious man laughed at him. "You? Kill me?"

  "Yes. But I'm not going to duel anyone, let alone someone whose death would blight my wedding and my marriage. I'm not going to create a scandal for my soon-to-be father-in-law. I am not going to create a chasm of ill will between myself and the Ministries."

  "You,
you . . . "

  The poor pretty boy hadn't imagined that he would simply refuse to fight.

  Ebsa turned and walked away. He kept his mental barriers low enough to keep track of the man. But Doodoo hadn't come armed, and no matter how angry, he had sense enough to not attack a Directorate agent with his fists.

  I'd better call Paer and warn her all about the news of her cowardly fiancé that's about to hit the news.

  ***

  For the newsies he shook his head sadly. “Paer never encouraged his suit, turned him down in public. It’s sad when a boy won’t take it like a man and get on with life. Very sad.”

  ***

  “Ebsa! That made it worse!” Paer clutched her hair. “Arg! Why can’t he just grow up! And of course when the Newsies asked me about it, I pointed out that I’ve turned down eighteen out-and-out proposals, and refused to speak to three marriage arrangers. Are they all going to line up and try to kill the man I’ve given my heart to? One! If getting a marriage proposal turned down is grounds for a duel, I’m the one they should be sharpening their swords for.”

  Ebsa choked. “Did you say that to the Newsies?”

  “Yes, One dammit! I . . . sort of lost my temper.”

  Out in the vehicle bay, Ra’d started laughing. “Ebsa? If they challenge you, do you get to pick the weapon? I recommend crawlers at 100 meters.”

  “Very funny!” Ebsa called back. “Unfortunately, the dueling laws are so rigid I couldn’t even do bare handed or straight magic.”

  And I don’t have the fencing reflexes to keep me alive while I try to get through the magical shields of a man who is an expert and probably also expert in, oh, shield piercing spells, shielding against swords with shield piercing spells, and . . . things I’ve never thought of. I . . . might manage a powerful sleep spell, right off . . . but if that bounced, I’d probably get skewered before I had time to throw a powerful slice. So it would be slice, first. And at two meters? My slice would probably blast through anything . . . but if it did bounce it’d be horribly dangerous to the bystanders.

  “So it’s just not going to happen.”

  The evening news was entertaining. Koil had gone straight to the perfect man to ask about Ebsa.

  Ajha’s startled expression was classic. “Ebsa? A coward? One, the boy’s a stone cold killer, when he has to do it. Then he goes and barfs in the bathroom and cries for a while. Good thing too, I’d worry about him running around loose if he enjoyed the killing part.”

  “He’s actually . . . how many . . . Who did he kill?” Koil sounded shocked.

  “Helaos. How many? Well, things got wild a few times, so we have no idea how many were injured versus killed. Two hundred? Three?”

  “Wait? Ebsa? But he’s so nice!”

  “Yes. Until he’s got a couple of hundred armed Helaos soldiers between him and some students who need to be rescued. It . . . was necessary. But a duel with some stupid little boy with hurt feelings? Ebsa’s too good a man to kill him, and too bad a fencer to let him get close.”

  “Uh . . .”

  “Ebsa’s very good with magic. He can slice ten meters.”

  Ra’d snickered. “Ooo! The Boss just lied on Empire-wide TV.”

  “Tee what? Umm, yeah, that’s about the maximum believable. He didn’t actually say that was my limit. Everybody’d think he was lying if he said fifty.” Ebsa shrugged. “Mind you, on the salle, we’d be so close . . . Eesh. I might manage to chop off his arm before he skewered me.”

  After that Evdu . . . wasn’t around.

  Paer snorted. “I just hope he doesn’t come to the wedding. If he makes a scene . . . well, Xen taught me that purple bunny spell.”

  Ebsa thought about that in the middle of the Grand Cathedral, in the middle of his wedding.

  I think it’s already enough of a spectacle. Please, please, stay away, DooDoo!

  Chapter Ten

  Dueling Dresses

  The Safron Sisters called. Paer slipped out for a fitting and returned grinning. "It is incredible."

  Ebsa sighed in relief. “I feel guilty asking your father to pay for a second dress, but what the ABC harpies finally produce . . . I could be wrong. Maybe . . .”

  “It would take a miracle to top the secret dress.”

  ***

  The Fitting for the Official Dress.

  Complete with a photographer "for the book about the wedding of the century."

  Paer recoiled as the three Madams pulled off the drape.

  A miracle had not occurred.

  "You've changed it again! I thought we'd agreed on traditional."

  Madam C sniffed. "Keyhole necklines are traditional. We've updated it so you look modern instead of frumpy!"

  "A keyhole neckline so large it exposes half my breasts is not . . . that doesn't actually go low enough to show my navel does it?"

  "It's the hottest fashion. This dress will be the talk of the town for months!"

  "Years, most like. And I have a nasty suspicion none of us will like what they say." Paer braced her shoulders.

  Game. On. Time to start pretending I’d be caught dead in this thing!

  "Right. Let's try it on."

  Three frowns. "I do hope you've been dieting."

  "I told you, make it fit the real me, not what you imagine I ought to look like."

  But in fact she'd been so nervy, she hadn't eaten normally for weeks. Only barfed once, from stress.

  The dress did fit. With the huge empty oval in front, only the hips could possibly have been tight, and there was enough fullness there as it swept out to an enormous skirt that it actually managed to make her look fat. The support mechanism for her breasts was stiff and squeezed her ribs. Padded to make her look busty, and about to fall out of the dress. Or, into the keyhole, in this case.

  Paer looked in the mirror and shuddered. "It's hideous. And it is definitely not traditional."

  "You look lovely!" Madam A beamed. "Cutting edge."

  Madam B smirked. "The long train is certainly traditional."

  Paer turned to look. "I don't think I'll be doing a lot of dancing."

  Madam C hustled up with an armload of . . . stuff. "And now the headdress and veils."

  Paer eyed the fluff . . . "Is that a wig?"

  "Of course! I'm sure that shoulder length is practical but it's hardly romantic. And your hair is so straight and so brown. This is a huge improvement! I suspect you'll want to grow your hair out and get highlights, once you see yourself in style!"

  And then they got out the makeup.

  "It's rather thick, isn't it?"

  "It will photograph well."

  "Today." Paer was firm. "On my wedding day I want to be able to grin like a loon without looking like my face is cracking."

  Triple titters. "So amusing, Dear."

  ***

  Paer called the Safron Sisters and asked about a headdress and veils.

  "Already taken care of, Sweetie! It will all be ready to go in two days."

  "You guys are amazing. I'll send Rael to pick it up."

  She had nightmares of the Safron Sister's Wedding Nook being burgled or going up in flames.

  ***

  The photographer called, voice horrified. His files had been hacked.

  The hideous dress was all over the grid by noon. To universal horror, scorn, and laughter.

  ***

  Rael smuggled the Montevideo dress into Government House. And hid it in the emergency escape system. Paer woke up and checked on it three times.

  ***

  "So, which of you lucky dogs is driving Madams A, B, and C to Government House tomorrow?" Ebsa smiled around at the Black Horse Guards.

  The guards and agents all swapped glances.

  Major Onca eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

  "Because they need to be delayed so much that they barely make it to the wedding. So unfortunate, all the traffic. The limo might even break down someplace where it would be difficult to hail a taxi."

  Onca pinched the
bridge of his nose. "I am going to be so glad when this is over."

  Chapter Eleven

  A Serious Miscalculation

  Rehearsal and dinner, with added guests, all very carefully vetted. A couple of Ministers, Director Izzo, Director Ajki. Urfa of course. A few extra friends . . . Evdu came with his father.

  Paer smiled and played hostess, ready to scream with nerves by the time she finally escorted the last guests off to their cars.

  Is it possible for brides to actually sleep the night before their weddings? I'm going to be a zombie by tomorrow.

  ". . . so impressed by your advanced medical magic. I must get you together with some of the top talent, so that you can get proper training."

  Paer rounded the corner smiling faintly at the elderly Minister of Health. Evdu hovered at her other side, and she wondered how to politely disengage and let them find their own way back to the car park.

  At least he’s gotten over himself, and behaved politely tonight!

  She glanced, and spotted the usual stiff stance of guards on duty and relaxed a hair as she walked past them.

  Then she realized the guards’ uniforms all bore the red piping of Ministry Security. One of them flicked forward on Speed and blocked the path forward.

  That's the dangerous one. If they are here to do more than escort the minister home.

  She turned to frown at the minister.

  "We know that by now you must realize what a horrible mistake you've made." The old man looked saintly and concerned.

  The four ministry guards loomed.

  "Minister, you are on the brink of doing something very foolish. Stop right now before a single one of your people lays a finger on me."