fortuneswheel (38 page)

* * *

Meral was waiting for them by the massive iron gates next to the porter's lodge. Surprisingly, like Kaid, he was dressed in civilian clothes.
"We don't want to draw attention to ourselves," said Kaid in response to Kusac's raised eye ridge.
Outside the gates it was another world. The street was narrowed by the profusion of store frontages claiming extra space, their contents spilling through the doorways out onto the paved footpaths. Above them, awnings in faded colors spread their shade, keeping the heat of the sun from the goods below. Mobile counters had been wheeled out, the transparent cabinets protecting the foodstuffs within from the attentions of the insect population.
All was hustle and bustle as a living tide of colorfully dressed Sholans of all ages picked their way between the goods on the street. Some entered the small stores to haggle over prices with the storekeepers, others stopped outside to chat with friends and share the latest pieces of gossip. The air was redolent with the fascinating aromas of food and alive with the low singsong cadence of their voices.
Neither her life on Keiss nor the time she'd spent on the ship had prepared her for this total assault on her senses. She stood there astounded by it all.
Put your shield up fully,
Kusac said, taking her by the hand.
You'll soon get used to it.
He pointed to the ground around the store fronts.
If you look between the goods, you
can see the mosaics that mark each store's boundary— the
area they can use for trading.
Why the need for boundaries?
We're a territorial species— at least the males are,
he amended.
It's not so bad now as it was in our far past.
Are you one of the territorial males?
she asked, looking up at him.
As a telepath, unable to fight, I had it bred out of me but
now I'm not so sure anymore,
he replied slowly, his hand tightening on hers briefly.
They walked down the street, threading their way between the people, pausing for her to look at nearly every store. Openly curious glances followed them, many of the townspeople recognizing her from the newscasts. Naturally they were interested in their local Liege's family, especially now her son had an alien Leska from the newly-found telepathic species.
Despite her shield, Carrie was acutely aware of the many eyes focused on her.
They're concerned because I'm the heir to the Clan,
Kusac sent.
This is our family land and most of the people
in Valsgarth are related to us in one way or another.
I thought your father was Clan Lord.
Lord of the Sixteen Telepath Clans,
he corrected.
A position he holds by virtue of being the most powerful telepath
on Shola, and being elected to the position by the Council of
Telepath Clan Lords. I'm also a contender as heir to that ti
tle because of my Talent, along with another six or seven
others from my generation.
How did your mother come to inherit the Clan, not your
father?
Father doesn't belong to our Clan, he married into it. The
firstborn inherits the title and in that generation, it was
Mother. I was firstborn this time.
Carrie turned her attention back to the stores. Each one sold food of some description. Savory breads with or without fillings, sweet pastries and cakes, fruit, cooked meats served in hand-sized chunks or grilled on skewers over braziers— the variety was seemingly endless. Despite having just eaten, she found the smells appetizing.
"Students are always hungry, that's why there are so many food stores outside the guild," said Kusac, anticipating her question. "Remember, our towns grew up to serve the Guild Houses."
"Do you have guilds for everything?" asked Carrie.
"Of course. Telepaths, Warriors, Agriculture, Communications, Engineers— the list is long," said Kusac.
"And every one is a mixture of a school and a register of standards?"
Kusac flicked his ears in assent. "Every one."
"There used to be a similar system in our middle ages, but it was too rigid to survive," said Carrie, her attention caught by a high-pitched yowl. Turning to look, she saw a mother hustling two young ones into a fruit store, telling them off for running out without her.
"They're really sweet," she said, grinning as the smaller one continued to yowl and hold its ear. "What age would they be?" As she turned back to him, something small and furry came flying round the corner ahead of them and collided with her knees, making her stumble.
"Hey! Watch out!" she said, automatically reaching down with one hand to scoop up the small stunned bundle. She found herself looking at a very young Sholan. Hurriedly, she brought her other hand up to clasp her more firmly.
"She's about two," said Kusac, watching with a grin as the little one shook her head, then blinked.
Eyes widening in surprise and ears rotating forward, the child stretched toward Carrie, sniffing audibly before her curious hands grasped her hair and she began to purr loudly.
They heard the angry shouts of her mother. "Jaisa! Come back you bad kitling!"
Trying one-handedly to disengage the clutching hands with their tiny needle-sharp claws from her hair, Carrie looked up to see the child's mother come to an abrupt halt in front of her, ears and tail twitching anxiously. Around her she could hear the sudden silence.
"Is she yours?" asked Carrie from behind a curtain of her hair, still trying to disentangle herself.
With a laugh, Kusac came to her rescue, taking the child from her while she freed herself. He held the now squirming and loudly complaining bundle out to her mother.
The mother nodded, taking hold of her daughter. "I put her down to try and get her to walk properly," she said, finding her voice as she tucked the little one against her hip, "but before I could take her hand, she was gone. I'm sorry she disturbed you and your Leska, Liegen," she said, looking anxiously from Kusac to Carrie and back.
"No problem," said Carrie. "I'm glad I was there to catch her."
"Thank you again," the mother said, backing round the corner and out of sight. Around them, conversations began to break out again.
"The child was running on all fours, Kusac," said Carrie incredulously.
"Of course she was," he said with a laugh. "They do until they can walk upright. Don't sound so surprised, you've seen me on four legs. Surely your young go through a similar stage?"
"Not quite like that," she said, aware of a sharp pang of regret from him that he didn't quite manage to block in time as he remembered she was of a different species.
Beginning to walk down the street again, she gave herself a little shake and looked up at him. "We were talking about guilds."
"The guilds, yes," he said, bringing his attention back to her. "Our system is reasonably flexible. You attend a basic school until your particular talent is recognized, then you're sent to the appropriate guild." He drew her down the side street, empty now of the mother and her kitling. "Except for telepaths and Warriors."
"What happens to them?"
"Telepaths mainly come from one of the sixteen Telepath Clans on Shola. In fact, they and the Warriors are the only Clans with a guild of their own. Our children are tested for a telepathic Talent when young and if they have one, are sent to the guild from the first. The rest of the young people are tested at about ten, and if they show a Talent, or a wild Talent is discovered later, then they're sent to the guild."
"What about the telepath children without Talent?"
"They're free to choose the profession they wish, provided they have the gift for it," said Kusac, as they stepped from the alley into another busy main street. "They tend to prefer to work in the Telepath Guild under another profession though, medicine for instance."
"And the Warriors?" asked Carrie, stopping for a moment to look at Meral.
"Warriors traditionally come from one of twenty Clans, or from the main branch of a Clan— a younger daughter, or a son like myself for instance," said Meral. "We train exclusively in weapons skills, then instead of doing military service, we remain at our guild until we're posted into space to do a tour of duty there."
"What position do Warriors have in Sholan society? What do they do?" Carrie asked as Kusac urged her on again.
"Security work, bodyguards or honor guards to dignitaries and visiting aliens, and representing those who choose not to fight in Challenges, particularly the females' Challenges."
"I thought you had law courts and a judicial system," said Carrie as they rounded the corner into a wider and more formal street.
"We have," said Kusac, "but litigants can choose to settle a dispute with a formal Challenge, letting the Gods choose who is in the right."
"The Challenge is held in front of a judge and witnesses and the outcome is legally binding," said Meral. "Often they choose champions to represent them, and that's where we come in."
"Swords for hire," said Kaid. "Military service is compulsory for males between the ages of eighteen and thirty, unless they're Telepaths. Whether we do it in the Forces or the Warrior's Guild is up to us."
"Vanna mentioned something about it, but I got the impression that you'd lived peacefully within the Alliance for a very long time."
"We're on a war footing now," Kusac reminded her. "Have you forgotten the Valtegans? We've had compulsory military service for several hundred years, primarily to channel the virility and aggression of our excess of young males. It keeps them out of trouble," he said with a grin.
"Vanna mentioned that too, but I didn't notice any problems from the males on the
Khalossa.
You were in the Forces, so what age does that make you?" she asked.
Kusac grinned down at her, his canines white against his dark fur. "Old enough to know what I like," he said, touching her cheek.
Meral didn't quite succeed in stifling his laughter, even though Kaid frowned at him.
Be serious,
sent Carrie.
"Twenty-eight in your years," he said, relenting and squeezing her hand gently. "Now enough of Sholan life, let's find a store that can copy your clothes."
The street they were now on had no goods on the walkways. Though paved, the central area had been left grass-covered; every few hundred meters ancient trees spread their foliage, offering shade to the people sitting on the seats beneath them. Most of the stores had at least half of their frontage open to the street to allow both easy browsing for customers and the passage of air to cool the interior.
This street seemed to be dedicated to either making or selling clothing, Carrie deduced from the goods on display.
Kusac chose a small store that he'd visited once before. As he explained what they wanted, the storekeeper stared at Carrie with a mixture of frank curiosity and appraisal.
"Trousers, eh? New style, are they?"
"No. They're for her," said Kusac patiently, his tail flicking with an irritation he couldn't conceal.
"No tail?"
Kusac kept his face impassive despite his mounting annoyance. "You can see she hasn't. Touibans wear similar garments. Can you make them or not?"
"She doesn't look Touiban," the trader said, eyeing her up and down in a manner Carrie took an instant exception to. "Is she a female one?"
Carrie was losing her temper. She leaned forward until her face was inches from his. "Look, you mangy, point-eared Sholan, I know it hasn't escaped your notice that you haven't seen an alien like me before, so cut the crap! You know damn well I'm not a Touiban! Either you're prepared to talk business or we leave. Understand?"
Meral and Kaid turned their backs, this time both of them exchanging grins.
The storekeeper wasn't looking at her, he was staring at the torc she wore. When she'd leaned forward, its weight had pulled it free of the neckline of her shirt. His ears flicked back along his head as he tore his gaze away from it, looking again at her face, then at Kusac standing beside her.
"Liegen Aldatan?" he said at last, his voice very quiet. "Liegen, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you without your torc," he said, stumbling over the words in his haste to get out an apology.
"You thought you'd have some fun with students from the guild," said Carrie, still angry, "and mock me into the bargain!"
"A Telepath?" the trader asked, a haunted look coming into his eyes. "Your Leska?"
Kusac nodded. "And a new ally for Shola. There will be more of her kind here soon. They'll be wanting clothing, too," he added, driving his point home.
"If the Liegena wants this garment copied, then I will do my poor best to accommodate her," the storekeeper said, his supercilious attitude completely gone.
"I'm sure you will," said Kusac dryly. "We want two pairs made, both in lightweight fabric. Had you been more cooperative, we might have given you other business. When will they be ready?"
"By the end of the week, Liegen Aldatan. What colors would the Liegena like?"
"Red and a light blue," replied Kusac, aware of what she wanted through their link. "Send them to the guild when they're ready." Taking Carrie by the arm, he turned to leave.
Patience,
he sent to her, aware of her continuing anger.
He'll do for now. Later we'll go to one of the major stores.
Mentally Carrie fumed, sending him images of what she'd like to do to the trader.
"You've got a very graphic imagination," Kusac said, more than a little shocked at some of the imagery.
Meral and Kaid exchanged puzzled glances.

* * *

Footwear was next, but this time, Kusac took her to a larger leather workers' store. There they met with deference and a professional sense of challenge in producing a totally new item for the Liegena.
Their immediate business finished, Carrie wanted to wander round the town, stopping to look at a store selling handwoven rugs, a pottery selling delicately painted bowls and, more to the males' taste, a weapons store.
"Nearly everything seems to be hand-made," she said as they left there and headed farther down the metal workers' street. "Don't you mass produce anything?"
"Not in Valsgarth. Across the bay in Nazule, the Warriors' Guild town, there are some manufacturing areas and larger stores where the goods are sold. Most people want to have something that has been made for them, something individual, with its own character," said Kusac as they came to the jewelry quarter.
They passed by several larger stores till they came to one that took Carrie's fancy. It was small and set back from the main part of the street. The window was full of bronze and silver jewelry, pendants of silver or bronze set with colored stones, earrings either looped or pendant, bracelets and torcs both plain and of differing diameters of twisted silver or bronze wire.
Nearly all the Sholans she'd met wore some form of jewelry, even if it was only when off duty. As they entered, she was instantly surrounded by half a dozen beings several centimeters taller than herself.
Too stunned to move, she stood there while in their high, fluting voices, they chattered back and forth to each other, each one reaching out to touch her hair, her face, her garments. Their movements were so fast, it almost made her dizzy trying to follow them with her eyes. With their long, thin, clawed hands prodding at her, she felt as if she were being picked at by a host of insects.
She didn't have time to panic as Kusac literally barked a few phrases in Traders'— the common spaceport language— at them. They froze, waiting while he made a few choice comments about their behavior and his willingness to report them to their Swarm Leader.
Carrie had never seen anything like them. Dressed in the brightest, most garish colours they could find, their dress sense made her wince. Then there was the jewelry. They obviously believed in wearing their wealth as they were each festooned with gold and silver chains, strings of brightly colored transparent stones, not to mention the brooches and rings.
As to their physical appearance, they were strange creatures, almost apelike in appearance, with their long bodies and short limbs. Their brows were pronounced, overshadowing the small eyes set beneath them in dark-skinned sockets. What hair they had was sparse, though thicker on the crown of the head and the lower jaw. The nose was their least humanoid feature. Long and thin, it was flanged and edged with stiff hairs.
As one, they began to move again, bowing and nodding to her while apologizing vociferously in their fluting voices. Then as quickly as they'd mobbed her, they were gone, leaving a cloud of sharply scented air behind them.
Kusac sneezed loudly, followed by Meral and Kaid. Even Carrie felt her eyes begin to water and her nose smart until the storekeeper pulled out a bottle from under his counter and sprayed the air liberally.
"Thank you," said Kusac, his nose twitching as he tried not to give in to a second sneeze. He lost the battle.
"Being popular with the Touibans can have its disadvantages," the jeweler said. "Their scent will be neutralized in a few moments. Don't let it drive you from my store. I've many lovely pieces for you to consider, especially some delicate enough even for your Leska, Liegen Aldatan."
Sure enough, the air was beginning to clear.
"What on earth was that all about?" asked Carrie, watching the motley colored group as they scuttled off down the street.
"Touibans," said Kusac. "The last members of the Alliance. You've met us all now. They're insatiably curious beings, wonderful with electronics. Nearly all the computers we use were at least partially designed by them."
"What was that smell they left behind?"
"An apology scent. They communicate almost as much by scent as by words. I told them that you were the Ambassador of a new species and deserved at the least the honor accorded to the Leader of a Hundred Swarms. That's why they disappeared so fast," he grinned. "It can be intimidating to be surrounded by a group of them, but the ones you're likely to meet are harmless."
"Do they always go around in groups?"
"Yes. They're a breeding unit, a small clan if you like, but their females don't leave the home worlds."
Carrie shook her head slowly and turned away from the doorway. "Strange," she said.
She wandered round, leaving the males to look at various arm and wrist bracelets. Several pieces took her fancy even though the style tended to be on the chunky side for her because of the larger size of Sholan wrists.
Kusac, what do you do for money here?
He looked up from where he stood at the counter talking to the trader.
What do you mean?
he asked.
What do I use for money?
If you want something, I'll get it for you,
he sent.
That's not what I mean. How do I go about getting some
money of my own? How do I earn some?
Ah, I see what you mean. I should've thought to tell you
sooner. When we became Leskas, you were automatically re-
cruited into the Forces with me. They'll be paying you
wages, too.
But I'm not doing anything for them.
We're here at the Guild on their orders. I'll check with the
commerce center later. There should be an account in your
name by now, probably with quite a tidy sum in it. Are you
wanting to buy something?
I want to get something for you.
"What?" he asked, surprised, as she joined him at the counter.
"I'd like to get you another torc."
He looked down at her, putting an arm round her shoulders. "That's a nice thought," he said, "but it isn't necessary."
"I thought I was beginning to make sense of the memories I inherited from you," she said. "Isn't it the right thing to do since you've given me yours?" she asked.
"Well, yes," he admitted. "Torcs are usually exchanged, but there's no need for you to get me one. It isn't necessary for me to wear a torc."
Why did you give me your torc, Kusac?
came her thought.
Why is it important that I wear it?
Kusac was startled. He hadn't anticipated her question and had no ready answer.
Carrie let herself be drawn by him to the rear of the store, away from the interested owner and the other customers.
Circumstances forced me to give you my torc sooner than
I wished. I wanted to ask you first, but at least I did make
sure you were willing to wear it, and that you actually took
it from me.
What circumstances, and why was it important that I took
it from you? You aren't making much sense, Kusac,
she sent, turning round to look at him.
And what's happened again?
With you and me, nothing happens the way I want it,
he replied with a sigh.
That's what's happened again. The circumstances were my mother's unexpected arrival.
He put his hands up to gently hold either side of her face.
I intended to ask you before we met my family so that if you
were willing, you'd be wearing my torc then. The right moment has never arrived, and I think with us, never will.
His mouth opened slightly and his lips curved up in an almost human grin.
Kusac...
Hush, let me finish. When I gave you my torc, I couldn't
tell you that it was a betrothal gift. There wasn't time. It was
more important that I was the one to tell my mother you
were Terran, and that she knew how I felt about you from the
start. You had to be wearing my torc when she met you for
the first time. The night we became lovers, you asked me
what kind of life I wanted for us. I said then I wanted you
beside me always. I meant it, they weren't just idle words,
cub. This is hardly an appropriate place to ask you, but will
you take the life-oath with me and become my mate?
She could sense his hopes and fears for the future, and with it his uncertainty that she would accept him.
I wasn't trying to mislead you by not telling you its importance before now,
he sent anxiously.
I was trying to protect
you. I intended to ask you tonight.
Are you sure that's what you want?
she asked, aware now of what he was prepared to give up, what would probably be demanded of him if he married his alien Leska.
For an answer, he leaned forward to kiss her. "Nothing less will do," he growled as he released her. "I find I'm becoming unnaturally territorial when it comes to you."
"So, will you wear my torc?" she asked.
"You know how much it would please me to wear it," he said quietly as they returned to the counter at the front of the store. He pulled her close, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head.
"The Liegena wishes to buy a bronze torc," he said to the trader. "One bearing the Aldatan sunbursts."