“Gun.”
“Right.” He slid his spare out and put it in the other man's hand. “You're welcome to mine. Have a care; it's loaded.”
Daav nodded, his arm, with the gun in his hand, stretched along the edge of the cot.
“Thank you, Clarence.”
He stood and motioned to Sara that she should take up her end of the cot.
“No trouble at all, laddie,” he said. “Not a bit o' trouble at all.”
* * *
She hadn't told Er Thom where she was going or whom she was to meet. It was foolish; she knew it was foolish and yet she did it. Which was, she thought, taking her seat in the private room deep in the heart of Ongit's, precisely what Daav had done and for precisely the same reason.
Korval was too thin. The former delm had not gone to Low Port herself, she had sent her heir. His loss would have wounded the clan, but it would not have crippled it. There was no heir or maiden uncle for Korval's present delm to send upon difficult missions. Every life was precious, and the combination of duty and necessity put them all at risk. The delm's duty, to preserve the clan, became the duty to preserve the future of the greater number of the clan, thus increasing the delm's personal danger.
She could see the graph inside her head; she could trace the lines of causation, and—
There was a tap at the door, and the elder Mr. Ongit stepped in, followed by Clarence, moving slowly, to accommodate the comrade who leaned hard on him, face drawn, and eyes haunted. Weariness flowed out from him, and a toxic wash of horror, pain, shame, and self-loathing.
She spun to where the elder gentleman waited by the door.
“Of your goodness summon a Healer immediately. Say that Korval is in need—wait!” She spun back to Clarence. “Yourself?”
He shook his head, and offered her a smile so weary it barely curved the straight line of his mouth. “I'm good, thanks,” he said in Terran.
She nodded and looked back to Mr. Ongit. “One Healer—as quickly as you can.”
He bowed and was gone. Aelliana turned again, finding that Clarence had gotten Daav seated and dropped into the chair opposite.
“Well,” she said, taking the last chair, “which of you has the strength to tell me what has happened?”
Clarence laughed tiredly and shook his head.
“Short form, there's somebody else trying to set themselves up as boss. Whoever that is has a hit list and a nice crew of reapers. Daav's name was on the list and they took him down for the bounty, as Daav says his keeper told him. I'll know more after I've had a couple of good chats with those we brought home with us. When I do, I'll send the report along by courier, if that suits.”
“It does,” she said, with a glance at Daav, who was sitting where Clarence had put him, his head against the back of the chair and his eyes closed.
“He's had a bit of a bad time,” Clarence said, following her gaze.
“It could have been worse,” Daav murmured, sounding very nearly like himself.
“That's right,” Clarence allowed, and rose with a wince. “I'll be taking myself off, gentle people.” He bowed. “Aelliana, your servant. Daav—”
He moved a hand without opening his eyes. “Do not, I beg you, say so, or you will be doing nothing else with your time aside fetching me out of dreadful scrapes.”
Clarence grinned. “I could branch out into bodyguard.”
“So you could. Clarence—” He lifted his head with an effort Aelliana felt in her own muscles, and opened his eyes. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”
“No, now that you're not. There are no debts between us. It's forgotten, and of your kindness you'll do the same.”
There was a small silence, then Daav sighed, his mouth curving slightly.
“You drive a hard bargain, Pilot. Yes, that is the course of wisdom. Let it be so. Good lift.”
“Safe landing.”
He crossed the room, reaching the door just as it opened to admit Mr. Ongit, with the Healer.
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Contents
Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon
Chapter Thirty-Five
A clan's treasure is its children.
—From the Liaden Code of Proper Conduct
The tree had given several pods, which Daav had eaten without hesitation, and with every evidence of enjoyment. Aelliana was apparently judged well enough, for nothing fell to her hand. That was, as far as she cared, as it should be. Her concern at the moment was all for him.
Though he had received benefit from both the Healer and the autodoc, he seemed to her . . . tired; his signal, normally so clear, was subdued. The Healer had said that he might find it difficult to concentrate over the next few days, which was an artifact of the drug his captor had used to enthrall him. Aelliana gathered that there were crueler drugs that they might have used, but not very many.
She sighed, her back against the tree's comforting trunk, and looked down into his face.
Almost, she thought, almost, I had lost him. Her heart trembled, and she extended a hand to trace the stark line of his cheek.
“I love you,” she murmured. “Van'chela, I love you so much that it frightens me.”
“I know,” he whispered. He opened his eyes and gazed up into her face. “You're weeping. It all came out well in the end, Aelliana.”
“This time,” she acknowledged unsteadily. “And yet it could have gone wrong in so many ways. They—”
He raised his hand and pressed his fingers gently against her lips.
“No. Do not consider what they might have done, nor even what they have done. They failed; we prevailed. That is what we recall.”
She took a breath; nodded.
“That is well, he murmured. ”Now, attend me, for I have been remiss and thus placed the delmae into danger. In the past, when the delms of Korval and the Boss of Liad have found it necessary to share information, a message is dispatched and a mutually acceptable time is found for them to meet at Ongit's. There is no reason for Korval to go to the Boss, or, indeed, for the Boss to come to Korval."
“Clarence said the same,” Aelliana admitted. She laughed slightly. “Truly, Daav, I have seldom beheld someone so honestly horrified to see me.”
“Clarence has a great deal of good sense,” Daav murmured, and turned his head away, as if listening.
“Oh, dear.” He sighed. “I believe we are both about to be scolded masterfully.”
Aelliana frowned. She heard the breeze in the leaves, the repetitive call of a to-me, the bright burst of a rindlebird's song—and footsteps, light and quick, growing more distinct.
Er Thom appeared 'round the bend in the path, and crossed the grass to them.
With neither ceremony nor greeting, he dropped to his knees and leaned forward to look closely into Daav's eyes.
“Brother, how do you go on?” he asked.
“Well enough. The Healer did his work well.”
“Good.” Er Thom drew a hard breath, and sat back on his heels, his mouth tightening.
“I am going to murder you myself and save the toughs of Low Port any more losses,” he said, his voice hard and distinct. He looked up, sparing a glare for her.
“And you! Do you have no better understanding than to place yourself and Korval's heir into the hands of one of the most dangerous people on this planet?”
“Neither then nor now,” Aelliana said, meeting his anger with softness. “Clarence did well by us. It was he who brought Daav out of Low Port, which I don't think anyone else could have done. He was as distressed to see me in his office as you could have wished him to be, Er Thom, and lessoned me well. I honor him.”
Er Thom closed his eyes and took a hard breath.
“Stipulate,” Daav said, before his brother could speak again, “that we are idiots of the first water, polished and ready to be set.”
There was a moment of silence before Er Thom sighed and opened his eyes.
“Stipulated.”
Daav smiled. “Excellent. Now tell me, do, what else I might have done, given the contract and the ever-more-disturbing reports coming from our sources in the Low Port.”