“I would like to scan the document first,” said Caissa as she approached the writing table.
“A wise lady,” said Red Ruler with a hint of a smile tugging at his sad lips.
Caissa knew enough about such contracts to flick through the first paragraphs about obligation, responsibility, damages and sanctions applicable if the obligations were not fulfilled. The paragraph concerning her sire and Anvral gave two years of body-heir provision. In small but quite legible script, the writer had added the conditions stipulated by Murell.
The third paragraph she read slowly for it outlined the end of the interdiction of the Oriolii and stated that coelura fabric would again be available for export and at a price per spin that made Caissa’s eyes widen. Murell’s name had been substituted for Anvral’s as Comptroller. Official garments would be supplied to ranking Cavernii (so that had been Baythan’s reason for her to contract), Triadic Rulers and their body-heirs at need and at no expense. Yellow Triad City was to be restored, an enormous credit balance advanced to replenish and refurbish Oriolii Caverns and surface facilities. Yellow Triad Ruler was to be nominated by the Oriolis Cavernii that candidate to be accepted by Red and Blue Rulers. The writer had added only one line to this clause: the supply of coelura fabric would not exceed one spin per adult coelura in any Demeathorn year.
Caissa raised her eyes in appeal to Murell for she could not see how such a restriction could be enforced. Surely there would be attempts to capture the beautiful and friendly creatures and remove them from Demeathorn, after which they could be forced to spin themselves to death. Murell returned her gaze serenely. In soft caress, her gown hugged closer to her body and she understood that to be reassurance.
She signed above her scribed name, handing the pen to Anvral Murell affixed his signature beside hers as Baythan put his next to Anvral’s. Both Rulers signed and Red Ruler held the document high.
“We pronounce this double contract valid and inviolable,” he said, his voice issuing firmly, “honorably to be discharged by Cavernus Murell and Lady Caissa, and by Caverna Anvral and His Excellency, Baythan.” He motioned to the newly contracted to join hands. “Let us now celebrate the glad occasion of a reunited continent and an equilateral triangle.”
Cheering followed as the two Rulers retired to their offices. The massive stairway to the Function Room on the upper level began to open, stirring the audience to rearrange themselves and ascend.
Caissa turned anxiously to Murell.
“No fears, Caissa. Coelura are safe.” Murell smiled warmly down at her and pressed her hands together in his. “Both Anvral and I have been as carefully trained for this transaction as the coelura. Over the past one hundred and twenty years, the coelura have been conditioned to respond only to a certain combination of notes known to a trusted minority. With myself as Comptroller and Anvral committed to Baythan…” Murell glanced over Caissa’s shoulder towards Anvral and her sire when his grasp tightened on her fingers. The quality of his smile altered. “So this is the other contract spin,” he said and abruptly swung Caissa towards the milling guests.
Caissa could not suppress her gasp of amazement at the sight of the High Lady Cinna, gliding ruthlessly towards them. Even in a stunning gathering of the ultra-fashionable, Lady Cinna was outstandingly garbed, her costume composed of the highly prized and costly imbia shells of a nascent gold. Her hair, dyed a subtly darker shade, had been dressed in long thin plaits, studded with tinier shells. The effect was dazzling until she neared the newly contracted couples.
“My sincerest congratulations, Minister Baythan,” she said in her most brittle and indolent voice, more like the sly nathus than ever. “Quite a coup, in fact. I presume you have not forgotten…”
Caissa caught her breath, swallowing down a taste of bile at the thought of the High Lady Cinna swathed in coelura.
“How could one forget you, Lady Cinna!” exclaimed Baythan, his voice as smoothly composed as the colors of his robe. Somehow a bluewood box appeared in his hand. He spared a sideways look at Caissa and she must have imagined that her sire winked. “A small token by which to remember sire and heir.”
“May it become you,” Caissa added, stepping with Murell to Baythan’s right.
In a daze, Lady Cinna’s hands closed about the box. Her expression turned from smug anticipation to irate dismay as she appraised the vibrant gowns which dulled her magnificence to insipid beige
Her eyes narrowed with fury, and frustration pulled lines in her face which discipline and surgery had long disguised. The imbia shells shook with her suppressed rage.
“Honor being satisfied, my heir, let us celebrate,” said Baythan, bowing formally to the motionless High Lady and escorting Anvral towards the festivities.
Murell led Caissa away, the drape of their gowns enmeshing as his fingers pressed hers with the promise of renewing their first encounter.
“Lady Cinna really deserves coelura,” Murell remarked with droll humor in his deep voice. “It will become her, you know!”