* * *
“You must allow me,” Lady Kareen said, hurrying her toward a pair of ladies—one elder and stern-faced; the other young enough to perhaps be her daughter, with a face more resigned than stern, and her stance shouting pilot.
“You must allow me to present Gath tel'Izak who has the honor to be Bindan, and Samiv tel'Izak. Delm and Pilot, allow me to introduce Aelliana Caylon Clan Mizel.”
Face stiff, Bindan inclined her head, Aelliana scarcely heeded that. She stepped forward, slipping her arm free from Lady Kareen's grasp and bowed profoundly.
“Samiv tel'Izak!” she exclaimed. “I have been wanting to meet you, and to thank you! To have risked so much on my account—and never even knowing who I was! I am in your debt, Pilot. Deeply so.”
“Indeed not!” the younger lady protested. “Pilot Caylon—it is apparent to the meanest intelligence precisely who you are. I am honored, and if I may say so without offense, delighted, to be able to speak with you. The last I had known, your case was desperate, and then I fear”—a sweep of lashes in the elder lady's direction—“I became immersed in my own affairs.”
“I understand entirely, Pilot,” Aelliana assured her. “We should make time to sit with each other. I am presently situated at Chonselta, but I am at your service, Pilot. Only—” A shadow moved at her shoulder—not Daav, an inner voice told her—and she turned her head.
Not Daav, no, but welcome, nonetheless.
“Er Thom!” She caught his hand and brought him forward. “Do you know Pilot tel'Izak?”
“I have had the felicity,” he said, with an easy bow. “Pilot, I am pleased to see you looking so well.” He glanced to the other lady and accorded her a more rigorous salute. “Bindan.”
“yos'Galan,” the delm said sourly.
“Aelliana,” Er Thom said in his soft, sweet voice. “I had seen that you were unrefreshed. Might I might fetch you something? Pilot? Ma'am?”
“Thank you, no,” Bindan said, with, so it seemed to Aelliana, scant courtesy. “Samiv, there is Midys, to whom we must speak. Forgive us, yos'Galan, Lady . . . Pilot; duty calls.”
“Certainly,” Er Thom said, inclining his head. Aelliana looked to Samiv.
“A message in my name to the offices of dea'Gauss will find me, Pilot. Please, do not forget.”
Bindan moved sternly away, Pilot tel'Izak dutifully in her wake. When they had been swallowed by the crush of bodies, Er Thom turned again to Aelliana.
“May I be of use to you?” he asked, and turned his head slightly. “Or to you, Kareen?”
“There's a rare offer,” Lady Kareen said, her voice light, as if it were a joke between close kin, but her eyes angry, indeed.
“Worth all the more, then,” Er Thom answered. “What may I be honored to fetch you?”
Lady Kareen drew a breath, and smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Nothing, I thank you, kinsman. Indeed, I have neglected the balance of my guests quite long enough! If you will forgive me, Scholar?”
Aelliana inclined her head. “Of course, ma'am,” she said, carefully. “I thank you for your care.”
“You are quite welcome, Scholar,” the lady replied, her voice also careful. “Kinsman.”
Er Thom bowed. “Kareen.”
“Please, you must tell me how Daav goes on,” Aelliana said rapidly, the instant the lady was away. “I—we saw each other, and it was as if I had taken a bolt. I could scarcely think anything, except that I must go to him at once. He was similarly struck, I saw—Delm Guayar took him in hand. But—”
“He suffers,” Er Thom murmured, taking her arm and moving her carefully through the crowd—away from Daav! she thought, with a wrench—“he suffers as you do, and will continue to do unless and until this is solved.” He flashed her a look. “I speak, as you know, from experience. It may perhaps seem unnecessarily harsh, but it is my opinion that Mizel ought to be flogged. If, as we suppose, she knows that you and Daav are linked . . . ”
“She cares very little for that—indeed, how could she know what it meant, when we ourselves discover it as we go along?” Aelliana shook her head. “I have such a report of her state of mind from my sister that must concern anyone. I had hoped that the solution I proposed would move her, but it has been a week now, and no word.”
Er Thom was silent for a few slow steps.
“Daav had promised to support you here,” he said suddenly.
“Yes, and so he has done, by sending you to me,” she told him warmly. “I am very happy to see you, Er Thom, but I think—I think it would be best to take me back to Lady yo'Lanna so that you may return to Daav.” She smiled, half-amused. “We shall each have our rock, and our comfort.”
He returned her smile, violet eyes flashing. “Aelliana, I may have been remiss—have I said that I like you extremely and am grateful to find you in care of my brother's heart?”
Her eyes filled, and she pressed her fingers gently against his arm.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“No—thank you.” He put his hand briefly over hers, the Master Trader's ring flashing purple lightnings. “Come, let us return you to her ladyship, so that we may all be civilized for one hour more.”
* * *
“Anne, we are well-met,” Daav said. He slipped his arm through hers. “For the love of the gods, whatever you do, do not let me go.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Where's Er Thom got to?” she wondered in Terran.
“Gone to rescue my darling from my sister's spite,” he answered, gladly embracing her choice of language. “Since I am disallowed from performing the service myself.”
“Scholar yo'Vestra is making his way very deliberately in this direction,” Anne commented. “Should I move us?”
“Not in the least,” Daav returned. “It will do me good to have a worthy target.”
Anne laughed, and then the scholar was upon them.
“Lady yos'Galan, I offer myself in place of your present escort, who is wanted on business of the utmost urgency to Korval.”
Daav considered him.
“Do you bear a more explicit message, Scholar?”
yo'Vestra bowed. “The dea'Gauss awaits you in Lady Kareen's office, sir.”
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Contents
Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon
Chapter Thirty-Two
A Dragon will in all things follow its own necessities, and either will or will not make its bow to Society.
—From the Liaden Book of Dragons
Daav turned the last page over, and looked to Korval's man of business, sitting straight-backed and attentive on one of Kareen's damned uncomfortable visitor's chairs.
“Mizel accepts all,” he said, scarcely believing what he had just read, “and even adds a date by which Miss Sinit must be welcomed into yo'Lanna's keeping.” He extended a hand, and flipped up the last page, half afraid that he had imagined it—but, no. Mizel's line was signed, witnessed, and sealed. All that remained was to apply his signature and Mr. dea'Gauss his, and the thing was done.
At last.
“I have a pen, your lordship,” Mr. dea'Gauss murmured, rising and reaching into his jacket.
Of course he had a pen. Daav received it with a nod.
“My thanks yet again, Mr. dea'Gauss. I regret this disruption of your evening.”
“It is nothing, your lordship. What I regret is the length of time it has taken us to arrive at this very welcome port, and the unnecessary distress with which Pilot Caylon and yourself were burdened.”
Mr. dea'Gauss did not usually indulge in anger. That he was angry at this—but of course he would be. The misuse of melant'i and the waste of time and opportunity—yes, those things might well anger Mr. dea'Gauss.
Daav addressed the paper, inscribed his name, and handed the pen to Mr. dea'Gauss, who wrote, brief and neat, noting also the time and date. He then withdrew a seal from his case and appended it in the proper place.