“The Cavernus Gustin met you?” Baythan’s expression was politely attentive. Nor did his eyes betray more than a casual interest in her answer.
“I met him, my sire, and rejected him as well as his casket of badly cut bluestones!” Caissa allowed contempt to seep into her formal words.
“Too bad,” said Baythan insincerely. “Look about you, my dear heir. The best and the worst are gathered. Including some you may not have previously encountered.”
Caissa inclined her head. “Was your hunt productive?” she asked, feigning indifference to the answer.
“My hunting gave me great satisfaction.” The quiet note in his voice, the slight raising of his chest, the tiniest suspicion of a glint in his eyes told Caissa more than she wanted to know.
“Oh?”
“Yes, my heir. Look for a Cavernus to please you--just long enough to supply your need.”
He smoothly glided past her towards an important Caverna and her escort. Caissa knew that Baythan had told her all he intended her to know.
And she desperately needed to know more. She must discover with whom he had hunted that previous day, where he had been hunting lately. She questioned his usual companions discreetly but each thought Baythan had hunted with someone else.
“He does hunt solitary sometimes, Caissa,” one frequent comrade told her. “Says it’s more sporting for the prey if he’s got no back-up. Reckless of him, but that’s Baythan!”
She left the Function Room then and returned to her own quarters. With the basest and best of motives, she used her sire’s code to check on his speedster. All flights were entered in the Blue Tower’s air traffic control but the log of Baythan’s craft told her nothing. Distance travelled, mechanical servicing required, fuel used but all his flights were entered for the hunting preserves. Which, as Caissa knew, did not indicate his actual destinations.
She wished she could ease her terrible fear that her sire had been hunting coelura. Though how he could, she didn’t understand. Murell had seemed to think that there had been no illegal visitations to the interdicted Oriolis. But then, he had been wrecked on that island for weeks. Caissa reviewed her sire’s interests during that period. She checked his daily log and appointments and he had, as usual, been hunting. Unless he had to attend either the Blue or Red Ruler, Baythan had hunted some part of every day for years.
The next week was one of dreadful suspense for Caissa. Though Baythan did not permit her any private conversation, he watched her so intently that she had to affect interest in the various Cavernii to whom he introduced her and appear to be enjoying the festivities. Then it was announced that the privy negotiations of the two Rulers had been concluded. No more than that but the atmosphere turned electric, a current of jubilation rather than apprehension. Caissa’s fear for the coelura mounted in direct proportion to the lack of more explicit detail.
On the eighth morning after her return to Blue City, Baythan presented himself at her quarters, dressed in the skin-fitting attire he customarily wore daytimes when not hunting.
“I am entering a contract with a Caverna,” he told her casually. Then smiled as he glanced down at the resolution of the labyrinth game. “Well done, my dear Caissa. As my body-heir, you will favor me by being present at the ceremonial signing. Rather a choice, if unexpected, contract for me,” he said, glancing at his reflection in the mirrors.
Caissa knew that she was expected to believe that his contract was spontaneous but she did not. Too many ploys had been cast at her sire on Demeathorn for him to acquiesce so amiably during this past week. Her anxiety for the coelura intensified.
“An heir-contract is being entered,” he went on, more concerned about the small pucker across his lower back than his body-heir’s opinion. “She’s young and needs guidance for her heir,” and Baythan favored Caissa with a doting smile. “I shall expect you to make allowances for that. She’s never resided in either city. Rather a good move on my part. Good hunting in her area. Brilliant, you might say. You’ll know the whole of it soon enough, Caissa. Meanwhile, deny any rumors.”
“Of course, sire,” she managed to say through taut lips.
“You never disappoint me, Caissa. You are as discreet as stone.”
Caissa lowered her eyelids in acceptance of that barbed compliment.
“You would do well to follow my example and secure a Cavernus for yourself. There must be one man on Demeathorn you could endure for the time it takes to get an heir.”
With that, he gave her a formal leave-taking and strode out.
Caissa was shattered. What her father had not said, not even the name of the Caverna nor her area, confirmed suspicions that Baythan would have no way of knowing she entertained. Somehow her sire had encountered the Oriolis Caverna and persuaded the unsophisticated and sheltered girl to enter an heir-contract. And that heir-contract must include benefits and concessions which caused the two Rulers to meet in extraordinary council. Quite likely to remove the interdiction and sanctions on Oriolis. Caissa comprehended with a sickness in her soul that was close to active nausea that one of those concessions would concern coelura. She trembled now with disgust that it was her sire’s machinations that would endanger coelura.
Yet Murell had told her, several times, that coelura were safe. Had he not also indirectly hinted that the Oriolis isolation would soon end? But, if he were part of coeluran protection and had been deliberately abandoned on that island, had he walked into another trap?
She knew the coordinates of the landing strip where she had left him. She stripped off her morning wear, dialing for her speedster to be fueled and ready as she donned flying gear. She was dressed before her call got through to the hangar manager.
“I do apologize, Lady Caissa,” he said with proper deference, “but no private vehicles are allowed clearance before . . .”
“You forget who I am!” Caissa did not often use rank on those in subordinate positions but she had to find Murell.
The manager stammered a repetition of his orders and added that these were issued by the Triad Rulers. Incoming traffic was thick as splodges, he said, and he didn’t know where he was going to put them.
“Your problems don’t interest me. I intend to hunt today!”
She disconnected, her finger trembling as she punched the Chief Guardian’s code. After some delay, he greeted her, apologizing punctiliously, but he confirmed the restriction on out-going traffic.
“The rule applies to everyone, Lady Caissa. We’ve never had so many people in the City and from some mighty unexpected. . . .” His line cut off.
“Origins,” she murmured, finishing the Guardian’s indiscreet remark. She clenched her hands until her nails made red crescents in her palms. How could she reach Murell if she couldn’t leave the City?
She didn’t necessarily need her own vehicle, she realized. Any one would do. In fact, the first one she could find with sufficient fuel near an exit.
She took the fast grav channel to the hangar level. Her rank got her past a nervous guard at a side entrance. Gigantic as the City’s storage space was, speedsters, cars, airbuses and even cargo vessels had had to be stacked to accommodate the numbers. The Oriolis vehicles were easily identified: their designs were so antique that she wondered how their patched and mended hulls had remained airborne. The largest one, which must have conveyed the Caverna, had been recently sprayed and its canopy was so new that it must have been a pre-contract gift. There was no vehicle close to the exit that she would consider safe to appropriate.