“You need — ” Mailan broke off as a possibility occurred to her. No, off-worlders were careful about that.… How long had she been here, for Mendülay’s sake?
“Yes,” Darame agreed, watching her expression change. “I lost count. I am pregnant — lousy timing, eh? Except the mornings and my appetite shot to Seven Hells, I feel fine. Sheel does not notice anything these days unless it is pointed out to him — even about me,” she hastened to add. “If you are preoccupied with a lover, you do not start checking mineral balance or hormone levels or any of those things that he uses to make diagnoses. There will be plenty of time to tell him later.… I suspect we will be returning to Atare soon. Help me keep it a secret for now.”
Mailan studied her for several long moments, silent. And then what? Will you tell him? Can you stay, a cipher to the guaard, to our people? We cannot let them know you are connected to this ambassador. “I always wanted a few children,” she said bluntly. “I was borderline. Fertile men do not bother with borderline women. So I started guaard training.” Now why did I bother telling her that?
Extending a strong brown hand, Mailan carefully raised her to her feet.
TWOHUNDRED EIGHTYONEDAY, VESPERS
“No, no, no!” Darame winced as Tsuga Dielaan’s volume reached incredible proportions. Would the man ever run out of objections? Livia was starting to sound hoarse; Sheel had retreated to his chair, one hand over his face… and still Tsuga shrieked. Slowly rising from her seat, Darame moved to the stove and poured herself another cup of saffra. Lifting the full water kettle, she took it to Sheel’s place, warming his tea. Seemingly oblivious to Tsuga, Sheel parted the fingers over his eyes and winked at her.
Feeling a bit better in general, Darame took the kettle back to the warming surface. Sheel had been visibly annoyed at the start of all this — at least to her; she knew that wooden expression — but had cooled considerably in the intervening hours. That irritation had relaxed, moved into amusement… even forgiveness? That last gesture seemed to indicate a good mood.
By the Lion of Saint Mark, will this never end? It had taken a day for them to hammer out exactly what Riva Ragäree meant by her comment (at least what Sheel intended to interpret it as…) and how they would put it to use. It is the beginning of the end, Tsuga, and you cannot fight it. Remaining standing, Darame watched from the shadows as the wall lights began to glow. This agreement could change this world forever, mean greater profits and security — and more? We should not think beyond the moment. If only Livia is correct, and this insures peace instead of triggering war.…
“Are you sure they will come?” Darame had asked at one point.
“They have no choice,” was Livia’s reply. “Dielaan, Atare, and Seedar are easily half the population of Nuala. Our only competition, Kilgore and Andersen, are constantly at each others’ throats. Without us to referee, they are in chaos, and they find working with the smaller clans distasteful. If they will not have their dreams of off-world trade wither in the face of our union, they must join us.”
Down to the last, to the language in which the message would be sent. Whose name at the top? So petty, and yet she could see that even Quenby might question the presentation. With all the clans involved (except Atare — Sheel did not intend to tip his hand to Leah.…) everything had to be perfect.
“What do you think, Darame?” Livia’s question jarred her out of her musings. Damn, where had the conversation traveled? The Dielaan Ragäree’s face was controlled, despite her anger at her cousin.
My turn to draw fire? Darame had earned this question earlier, when she pointed out something — what was it? — that was clearly not in Atare’s favor. Could Livia think her impartial? Or merely giving the appearance of impartiality?
“The format, the names,” Livia said quickly, before Tsuga started again.
“Well.… You said the structure of the message could be controlled?” At their nods, she continued: “Then I would have the message sent under Atare, since you have asked Atare to do this thing for all the clans. Then put all three clans at the bottom in the same type, with the members’ codes beneath. You might as well give the appearance of being united behind this thing, or you are wasting your time.” Darame sat at the end of this little speech, aware her legs were trembling. Tired so easily… You should have taken a nap when Avis did… How could you abandon Sheel to these vultures? Flicking a glance in his direction, she saw his dimples pull. Then his face smoothed entirely.
“A good idea. Let us use it.” Livia glared at her cousin as she spoke.
“About the beginning — “ Tsuga started, ignoring this victory.
“Simple. Brutal,” Sheel said succinctly. “We tell them that off-worlders almost seized power in Atare, Dielaan, and Seedar — and that we intend to band together to make certain it never happens again. We unite under the banner of Atare so that our trade and information is pooled, and Atare will speak for all three off-world. If others wish to join this venture and have Atare speak for them, so be it. Come to the palace in Atare — When?”
“Soon.” Darame knew she sounded weary.
“Yes, soon. Come and make themselves known. We must pick a date, allow for our own travel…” Sheel’s voice faded as his look of concentration grew.
“It will cause an uproar from Kilgore to Andersen! We will hear the shouting from here!” Tsuga said, actually looking nonplussed.
“It is calculated to cause an uproar. While they scream to the ceiling, we will pull the rug out from under them.” Sheel fixed the Dielaaner with one of his most effective “looks,” silencing him.
Darame was watching Livia. The Ragäree’s eyes widened slightly as her face grew intent, but she was smiling.
Kingmaker Play:
1) card game played for stakes
2) to risk anything for the ultimate goal
3) to tamper with a planetary government;
localized treason.
Chapter Fifteen
ATARE TERRITORY
THREEHUNDRED TWODAY, PRIME
On the far side of the Starrise Mountains the star was already visible, but here in the valley the cool gray of morning ruled. Sheel adjusted the closure strips on his borrowed jacket and wandered toward the nearest cooking fire. Heads nodded as he approached; they had long since given up on engaging him in early conversation. Scanning the area, his gaze took in the dawn regulars: Harald and his wife Merme; two of their grandsons; Stephen Se’Morval, dishing up a meal for two and retreating to a tent; even Crow was awake, although he had stood the early evening watch.
Wordlessly the guaard handed him a mug swathed in steam. Fragile, unfamiliar scents rose into his face, and Sheel inhaled slowly.
“Nice, isn’t it? Merme found something blooming and added it to the tea.” Halsey followed his own penetrating Caesarean words up to the fire, extending his cup for a refill. “I admit I might throttle someone for hot kona, though. Never thought I’d miss it so much.” Smiling slightly, he accepted the tea from Crow and took a cautious sip.
“You are up early,” Sheel said politely, his gaze toward the lowlands wrapped in fog. Fergus and his band ahead of them, the Dielaaners a kilometer back.
“I have not slept well lately, either,” Halsey replied simply. He was staring in the same direction, his gaunt face thoughtful. Flicking a glance at him, Sheel decided he was finally starting to improve. The man had not volunteered how old he was, nor how many times he had been through Sleep, but Sheel suspected a long and varied career stretched behind him. Did that make it harder to recover from rav poisoning, the internal devastation wrought by Nualan food and water? Or was Halsey merely a severe case? Some people never completely recovered.…
“You need not worry until I tell you to,” Sheel told him, finally taking a drink of the tea. Like flowers, it had taste as well as odor, lingering on the tongue. What did flowers?… Crystle. Was she well, still carrying the child she wanted so badly? A daughter, though Sheel had respected her wishes and kept it to himsel
f. Her heir.…
“I have worries of my own, Atare. I would not dream of shouldering any of yours.” Halsey tried out a chuckle, but apparently found his tenor tones weak, for it faded quickly.
“Anything you need help with?”
“I doubt you can help. Our purposes are rather crossed.” Sheel started at this comment, but Halsey continued: “I had planned on a trip back to Caesarea after this stop, but now…”
“Things have changed?” Sheel wondered if he wanted to hear what Halsey was planning. If it involves Darame?
“It depends on how this all falls out. If Brant lives or dies, returns to Caesarea or does otherwise.… I am much, much older than I look, Atare. I still do my work with finesse and cunning, but I am no match for Brant, or his friends, should someone swear out a ‘contract’ against me.”
“After your life?” Sheel clarified.
“Most likely. Yet running from planet to planet does not particularly appeal to me, either.” Reaching for a fresh biscuit, he continued: “A bit simpler than the upheaval about to occur here.”
“They would want vengeance, even though Brant was the betrayer? I wonder if Brant has any Dielaan heritage,” Sheel murmured softly. Halsey’s choked laughter was the only response. “Do not borrow trouble, Halsey, we have enough right here. Perhaps you should consider settling on Nuala. If Brant has succeeded at all in setting up a united underground, it could survive him. I would make you a very rich man, and you would smoke out and dismantle the criminal organization.”
There was a pause. Finally, Halsey said: “It is something to consider. I have other employees to speak with, and Davi has some idea about breeding horses.”
“Horses?” Puzzled, Sheel looked at him.
“Loves them. But never talks about them; no point in it, she always says. They aren’t a part of her business. From her father’s blood, the horse thing. His people were magic with horses.” Halsey’s expression grew distant, and Sheel wondered what the man could tell of Darame’s past, if he chose.
“Do you think they will be there?” Halsey asked abruptly.
“Oh, yes. Seedar will surely send someone, as will Kilgore and Andersen. As for the others… Wallace will come. That means almost eighty percent of Nuala represented. The others? I sent out a spy — other than Fergus’s band — and he should be back sometime today.”
“To think you got three clans to agree to the same words.… Even your mother and that other one didn’t quibble over it, just signed it.” Halsey sighed. “You may go down in history as The Great Communicator.”
Sheel could not stop his grin. “Halsey, this thing may last a year if we are lucky. Hardly a great bridge-builder. But that may be enough.” His attention was caught by a commotion at the edge of the camp. Several guaard were walking toward the fire.
“Atare?” He turned to see Stephen Se’Morval. Lifting his eyebrows inquiringly, Sheel tilted his head at the man. “Avis had an uncomfortable night. Can you do anything for her?” The Caesarean speech was threatening to become clipped once again.
“Possibly. She has reached her time, Stephen. Fortunately it will be late, as first ones often are — we need my mother, among others, as witness to the birth.” By The Path, we need half of Nuala as witness, once Leah’s condition is known.
“I will be there in a few minutes,” Sheel promised. Damn. They had borrowed all-terrain vehicles from the closest villages, had driven as easily as possible.… There was nothing left they could do to increase Avis’s comfort.
A swarm of guaard was waiting when Sheel politely dismissed Avis’s lover.
Ayers! Sheel felt something tighten inside: he had not expected Ayers for hours yet. “Atare,” the young man said, nodding politely. He was mud-spattered and worn, but his eyes were alert. At his side was an unfamiliar guaard, though surely if he had seen her he would remember her: a tall, long-legged woman with a sweet face. She was just as grimy, dark shadows under her eyes. “A stroke of luck, Atare — we were able to acquire two cycles in the city. I have brought Kari back with me. She was one who could not determine our direction and so chose to stay in Atare in hopes of gathering useful information.”
“Excellent.” Sheel gave a long look to the crowd gathered around them, and people slowly melted away. Finally only Crow, Ayers, Kari, and himself remained. “Have a seat and some tea. Tell us, have any of the clans arrived?”
A pixie grin spread across Kari’s face as she accepted Crow’s offer of a steaming mug. “Oh, yes, Atare. Kilgore and Seedar have been outside of town for days, and Wallace stormed in yesterday. Valdez and Montincol sent highborn as emissaries, and rumor has it Boone’s private guard has been spotted in the area.”
“How is this being received?”
Kari dimpled. “It is hard to say, Atare. I was not on duty when Kilgore arrived. You know how precise they are; they sent a copy of your message to Serae Leah and asked her to explain it. She denied all knowledge of it, and told them their honor guard could be interpreted as hostile. So Kilgore went back to their ships and anchored offshore. They have informed her they plan to be at the palace at Sext tomorrow.”
Sheel slowly sipped his tea. I can always count on Kilgore to keep things lively. How lovely. “Riva Ragäree has not come down from her retreat?”
This stumped the lithe guaard. “Ayers saw two of her regular guaard in the city, but they could have come ahead, even as Ayers did. I told my sister that I was leaving and to keep her ears open — she has been on Serae Leah’s doors lately, so if the yelling starts again, she will know,” Kari added.
“Yelling?”
“Whenever the ambassador comes, there is usually a fight. Even… sometimes when the captain pays his compliments,” Kari finished, her voice suddenly colorless.
Worse and worse.… Will my guaard ever recover from this? “Thank you, both of you. Did… you have time, Ayers?” Sheel said, but the man forestalled him by reaching into a side pouch and withdrawing the chain of office. He dropped to one knee to offer it, but could not hold back a sunny smile.
“I also saw the high priest, who sends his compliments,” Ayers announced. “And says he will try to keep the lid on things until you arrive. Everyone was smart enough to approach under a white flag, so at least things will start out benign enough.”
“Good for Jonas.” As he reached for the necklace, Ayers’ face fell visibly.
“High Priest Ward, Atare.… High Priest Jonas died — before Yule?” He looked at Kari for confirmation. “Things were handled quietly, as he wished.”
No one thought to mention it.… “Excuse me, I must see to Avis.” Rising from the makeshift seat by the fire, Sheel flipped the chain around his neck and walked quickly toward the nearest tent.
There was little he could do for Avis except help her into sleep. He planned on approaching Atare in darkness; she might as well rest until then. Darame still slept — Sheel found himself back in his own tent before he’d recognized his intentions.
She slept deeply, perhaps dreamlessly, motionless as a delicate porcelain figurine. Settling down next to her, Sheel quietly took one of the long silver curls and wrapped it around his fingers. You need sleep, and it needs sleep.
Afraid to probe deeper. It had been chance, that he found out. Sitting by a fire one night, rubbing the tense muscles of her neck, he had explored every knotted muscle in her system, making sure it was merely nerves over the coming confrontation — and found the change. Withdrawal, then — and fear. Fear to check her system, fear to ask her the question. Did she know? How could she not know? Even if she was free of any discomforts, she must have missed at least two bleeding cycles by now. Or was she so preoccupied that she, too…
Speak to her. Three days of miserable silence had been superseded by a new thought. Darame said something to him once — that first night they met? Something about not being interested in a family, about not pursuing him for that reason, unlike others. Could she think I would be angry with her? Think it was her motive all along? H
ow foolish.… As foolish as some of his own fears. I want you to tell me. Whatever else happens, do not try to leave without telling me. She probably would not remember that a woman could not travel Cold Sleep with a fetus in utero. The child would have to be arranged for separately… or left behind.
Mendülay, let her remember the law! It terrified him, that she might try to “lose” the fetus — murder by Nualan standards. And there was no way to waive that offense.…
“Is it morning?” That soft, low voice he loved, like the purr of one of his cats.… Looking down, he saw her half-open an eye as she stretched, a smile tracing her lips.
“If you do not hurry, the food will be gone,” he replied, smiling in spite of his unease. Darame had that effect on him.
“Then go save me some tea, silly child,” she told him, poking him in the side. The hand rose, touched the chain. “Where did that come from?”
“Ayers has returned. The clans have come. We will be in Atare late tonight.”
Nodding, a frown suddenly crossed her face that had nothing to do with their words. Rising from the mass of furs, trying to force the spasms in his stomach to cease, Sheel said: “Sleeping on fur, and now tea and biscuits, served by an Atare. Could anyone want more?”
“Never.” A whisper, as she closed her eyes again.
Never? He pulled the tent flap aside and stepped out to greet the starrise.
MENDÜLARION S^ATARE
THREEHUNDRED THREEDAY, TIERCE
“Why do things never go as planned?” Sheel asked it rhetorically, but his mother lifted her head and looked at him.
“Anything specific in that question?” Even now, she managed a gentle smile. Early morning starlight caught her eyes, making them glint like the surface of a pool.… How deep were the waters.…
“I had not counted on Quenby and Livia insisting on attending,” he admitted, moving to her side. Chuckling, Riva gestured for him to sit. “If you and Stephen had not pounced on Avis, she would also have demanded to accompany us. Good thing you remembered the viewing line between the temple and the palace.”
Fires of Nuala Page 39