Caissa rose to pace restlessly about the reception room, reviewing heir-contracts and intimacy requirements. “A small sacrifice today that might reap unexpected rewards,” Baythan had said. “I took the promise for the deed,” Lady Cinna’s high pure voice reminded her.
Although it had been six years ago that the High Lady had officially left Demeathorn, she had made sporadic and unannounced visits to the Blue Triadic City in which Baythan and Caissa resided. Aware of the antagonism between her natural parents, Caissa noticed that these visits invariably occurred when her sire was protocologically unable to disappear on a hunt or some ministerial errand. Very privately, Caissa likened the Lady Cinna’s attitude towards Baythan as similar to the sly, six-legged deadly nathus of Demeathorn’s deep forests, a creature of immense patience for stalking its prey from the aerial advantage of the closely grown ferfa trees. Her father, on the other hand, reacted like a man caught in a labyrinth, trying to find the one way out to the sun.
Nor was Caissa immune to her womb-mother’s verbal pricks and darts. These were mainly concerned with the lack of “elegant or suitable” males to carry on the quintessential qualities of Caissa’s historically illustrious heritage of governors, explorers spatial and scientific, male and female.
Though Baythan had full custody of his heir, Caissa could have requested permission to go anywhere in the galaxy that her private income, which was large, permitted. The Lady Cinna had, however, prejudiced herself in her natural daughter’s estimation by humiliating the sire in the heir’s presence. In the strict terms of contracts which Caissa had studied, as long as Baythan lived, he could not be held in default of that unpublished clause. A strange condition, indeed, Caissa thought, if, as his heir, she would inherit the obligation.
But Caissa had not wished to travel from Demeathorn, certainly not in the exalted Lady Cinna’s company, for she didn’t much like the woman’s ruthlessness, brittle ways and excessive devotion to bizarre fashions, often including body changes. If such practices were essential for social acceptance outside Demeathorn’s system, Caissa preferred to stay with her father. Again, being candid, Caissa had lately become bored with a life totally devoted to days spent in hunting parties and evenings in parties discussing the days’ hunts.
The previous spring, Caissa had been tempted to travel to another system and had asked her sire’s permission.
“Travel? You’ve just got back from a visit to Red City. Oh, you mean star travel!” Baythan had regarded his heir thoughtfully. “She’s been nagging at you, has she?”
“Not recently,” Caissa had truthfully replied.
“For all of me, you can go wherever you wish. Although the karnsore season is about to start. You haven’t forgotten your wager with Rhondus of Rigel Four, have you?”
“Certainly not.”
Baythan had smiled as he gave her shoulder a paternal pat, “Good girl, Then go after the karnsore season. Do you good. Get your quota hunter status on different worlds. It sharpens the instincts.”
During the excitement of that spectacular karnsore hunt and her triumph over Rhondus by three kills, Caissa forgot her half-formed resolve to travel. Rhondus had been a good loser, as befit his rank, and had invited her to join him in a hunt on his native planet. As Rigel Four was in the Lady Cinna’s sphere of dominance, Caissa had pleaded duties which kept her on Demeathorn and tactfully introduced Rhondus to a Caverna with short-term contracts on her mind
Caissa had been very surprised when the next ministerial courier had brought her a cascade of magnificent, perfectly matched firegems. In a handwritten note, itself an unusual mark of favor for a womb-child who had disappointed her dam, Lady Cinna advised Caissa to choose only a man who could out-hunt her.
Caissa had chosen to be amused by the sly insult. Now, with Baythan promoting an heir-contract with a Cavernus who only hunted in caverns well enough lit to take full advantage of photophobic prey or rode after the fleet but timid rerbok, the High Lady Cinna’s taunt rankled.
Hunting? Baythan had been dressed for hunting and he had not suggested that she join him. Caissa was alarmed. That could mean that the new Cavernus was already in the Blue City, had approached Baythan personally and probably been encouraged by her sire for that unspecified reason of reward.
“Trin,” Caissa called out, running to her dressing room as she stripped off her wrap, “dress me quickly. The new Cavernus may be making a call”
A fleeting look of surprise crossed the old dresser’s face to be replaced instantly by the appropriately intent expression of the devoted personal servant.
As she was being suitably arrayed in semi-formal morning attire, Caissa found time to run a computer check on the new Cavernus’s public credit and property, hoping to find something positive about the applicant. Exact figures were not available without special coding but it was obvious that the Diolla Mines of Gustin’s inheritance produced a steady profit, the domestic satisfaction of his tenants and free miners was excellent and his assessed private wealth included valuable mining sites on two of Demeathorn’s four moons and active drilling in domed compounds on three methane atmosphere planets in nearby systems. She could extract a fine endowment in an heir-contract if she could only stomach the sire.
Trin had just finished winding green ocean stones into Caissa’s long, naturally black, plaited hair when Gustin’s arrival at her reception entrance was flashed on the screen of her inner chamber.
Depressing the release toggle, Caissa welcomed Gustin, keeping her words formal as she invited him to enter. He had come, she noticed as he stepped within range of the visuals in the reception room, properly garbed for someone wanting to negotiate an heir-contract. He carried a gift casket.
Caissa let him wait, observing with inner satisfaction his nervous pace, the occasional twitch he gave to settle the drape of a tunic which did not hide the fact that his shoulders required some padding. He was a shade knock-kneed and his calves in their ceremonial laces wanted more muscle before they’d display to advantage. Gustin was, as most young nobles, handsome of face and, aside from those minor deficiencies of shoulder-breadth and leg, well proportioned. What did not match his appearance was his mind, Caissa thought with a sigh.
As she swept out to meet the suitor, Caissa reminded herself that her duty to her sire required her to consider his wishes, to remember that an heir-contract was limited to the conception, gestation and bearing of one live healthy child, and that her sire had intimated that a contract with a Cavernus right now would have a reward.
Exactly three-quarters of an hour later, Caissa, dressed for hunting, was making good speed in the fast lane of the Blue City’s internal grav channels towards the perimeter hangar where she kept her speedster. She cursed under her breath, using the more pungent cavern miners’ dialect to vent her fury.
Gustin, having misinterpreted Baythan’s hurry to go hunting with ratification of his suit, had achieved new heights of fatuity. His initial greeting indicated to Caissa that he took it for granted that any woman would be delighted to gestate his body-heir now that he was Cavernus. He had shoved the gift casket at her, running on about the wealth and comfort of his home Cavern as though his familial estate was vastly superior to apartments in the Blue City. Caissa had tried, without success, to interrupt his catalog of the benefits of instant promotion to Caverna. She had tried to point out that this was only an initial meeting, that nothing was by any means settled and no contract terms established. He even opened the casket himself, to show her bluestones, generally proffered for minor contracts, but to compound that insult, the jewels had apparently been cut and polished by a rank apprentice and were set in poorly etched platinum.