“Myself, I have read the records that went before their fall. The supply ship failed them, never came back—probably after reporting to Aeolus; it was destroyed on its return trip, another war casualty, unnoticed. The years passed, and they had made the nemet here hate them. They had threatened them with the imminent return of the ship for twenty years and the threat was wearing thin. So they fell. But when we arrived, the nemet thought the threat had come true and that they were all to die. For all my crewmates cared, we might have destroyed Nephane to secure the base. I would not permit it. And when I had freed the nemet from the immediate threat of my companions, they made me Methi. Some say I am sent by Fate; they think the same of you. For an Indras, nothing ever happens without logical purpose. Their universe is entirely rational. I admire that in them. There is a great deal in these people that was worth the cost. And I think you agree with me. You’re evidently settled very comfortably into Elas.”
“They are my friends,” he said.
Djan leaned back, leaned on the sill and looked out over her shoulder. The ship was nearly to the breakwater. “This is a world of little haste and much deliberation. Can you imagine two ships like that headed for each other in battle? Our ships come in faster than the mind can think, from zero vision to alongside, attack and vanish. But those vessels with their sails and oars—by the time they came within range of each other—there would be abundant time for thought. There is a dreadful deliberateness about the nemet. They maneuver so slowly, but they do hold a course once they’ve taken it.”
“You’re not talking about ships.”
“Do you know what lies across the sea?”
His heart leaped; he thought of Mim, and his first terrible thought was that Djan knew. But he let nothing of that reach his face. “Indresul,” he said. “A city that is hostile to Nephane.”
“Your friends of Elas are Indras. Did you know?”
“I had heard so, yes.”
“So are most of the Great Families of Nephane. The Indras established this as a colony once, when they conquered the inland fortress of Chteftikan and began to build this fortress with Sufaki slaves taken in that war. Indresul has no love of the Nephanite Indras, but she has never forgotten that through them she has a claim on this city. She wants it. I am walking a narrow line, Kurt Morgan, and your Indras friends in Elas and your own meddling in nemet affairs are an embarrassment to me at a time when I can least afford embarrassment. I need quiet in this city. I will do what is necessary to secure that.”
“I’ve done nothing,” he said, “except inside Elas.”
“Unfortunately,” said Djan, “Elas does nothing without consequence in Nephane. That is the misfortune of wealth and power.—That ship out there—is bound for Indresul. The Methi of Indresul has eluded my every attempt to talk. You cannot imagine how they despise Sufaki and humans. Well, at last they are going to send an ambassador,—one Mor t’Uset ul Orm, a councilor who has high status in Indresul. He will come at the return of that ship. And this betrothal of yours, publicized in the market today, had better not come to the attention of t’Uset when he arrives.”
“I have no desire to be noticed by anyone,” he said.
The glance she gave him was ice. But at that moment Pailechan and another girl pattered into the hall cat-footed and brought tea and teliseand a light supper, setting it on the low table by the ledge.
Djan dismissed them both, although strict formality dictated someone serve. The chanibowed themselves out.
“Join me,” she said, “in tea or telise,if nothing else.”
His appetite had returned somewhat. He picked at the food and then found himself hungry. He ate fully enough for his share, and demurred when she poured him telise,but she set the cup beside him. She carried the dishes out herself, returned and settled upon the ledge beside him. The ship had long since cleared the harbor, leaving its surface to the wind and the moon.
“It is late,” he said. “I would like to go back to Elas.”
“This nemet girl. What is her name?”
All at once the meal lay like lead at his stomach.
“What is her name?”
“Mim,” he said, and reached for the telise,swallowed some of its vaporous fire.
“Did you compromise the girl? Is that the reason for this sudden marriage?”
The cup froze in his hand. He looked at her, and all at once he knew she had meant it just as he had heard it, and flushed with heat, not the telise.
“I am in love with her.”
Djan’s cool eyes rested on him, estimating. “The nemet are a beautiful people. They have a certain attraction. And I suppose nemet women have a certain—flattering appeal to a man of our kind. They always let their men be right.”
“It will not trouble you,” he said.
“I am sure it will not.” She let the implied threat hang in the air a moment and then shrugged lightly. “I have nothing personal against the child. I don’t expect I’ll ever have to consider the problem. I trust your good sense for that. Marry her. Occasionally you will find, as I do, that nemet thoughts and looks and manners—and nemet prejudices—are too much for you. That fact moved me, I admit it, or you would be keeping company with the Tamurlin—or the fishes. I had rather think we were companions,—human and reasonably civilized. This person Mim, she is only chan;she does at least provide a certain respectability if you are careful. I suppose it is not such a bad choice, so I do not think this marriage will be such an inconvenience to me. And I think you understand me, Kurt.”
The cup shook in his hand. He put it aside, lest his fingers crush the fragile crystal.
“You are gambling your neck, Djan. I won’t be pushed.”
“I do not push,” she said, “more than will make me understood. And I think we understand each other plainly.”
7
The gray light of dawn was over Nephane, spreading through a mist that overlay all but the upper walls of the Afen. The cobbled street running down from the Afen gate was wet, and the few people who had business on the streets at that hour went muffled in cloaks.
Kurt stepped up to the front door of Elas, tried the handle in the quickly dashed hope that it would be unlocked, then knocked softly, not wanting to wake the whole house.
More quickly than he had expected, soft footsteps approached the door inside, hesitated. He stood squarely before the door to be surveyed from the peephole.
The bar flew back, the door was snatched inward, and Mim was there in her nightrobe. With a sob of relief she flung herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.
“Hush,” he said, “it’s all right; it’s all right, Mim.”
They were framed in the doorway. He brought her inside and closed and barred the heavy door. Mim stood wiping at her eyes with her wide sleeve.
“Is the house awake?” he whispered.
“Everyone finally went to bed. I came out again and waited in the rhmei.I hoped—I hoped you would come back. Are you all right, my lord?”
“I am well enough.” He took her in his arm and walked with her to the warmth of the rhmei.There in the light her large eyes stared up at him and her hands pressed his, gentle as the touch of wind.
“You are shaking,” she said. “Is it the cold?”
“It’s cold and I’m tired.” It was hard to slip back into Nechai after hours of human language. His accent crept out again.
“What did she want?”
“She asked me some questions. They held me all night—Mim, I just want to go upstairs and get some sleep. Don’t worry. I am well, Mim.”