IronStar (15 page)

“On behalf of the Regnum Draconis
and His Imperial Majesty King Fredric the Fourth,” Kirrah said, reciting her
carefully rehearsed statement slowly and distinctly over the to-him unfamiliar
names and titles, “I bring greetings to Lord Tsano shu’Teescha. May our nations
prosper as friends.” She raised her hand in the salute and clasped his, fingers
high around the top of one another’s wrists, thumbs locked, rather than the
to-her conventional grip around the bottom of the hand. He took her hand
gingerly, as though used to breaking things he touched carelessly.

Still feeling a little off-balance
from the uncertainty of Tsano’s identity, she was introduced to the other four
robed figures standing behind him.

“Allow me to show
Kirrah
shu’Roehl
the realm’s four Masters, who serve with me. Taiwi shu’Wdatha,
our Scribemaster,” said Lord Tsano, as a medium-height, medium-build,
medium-everything man stepped forward a pace and bowed. Medium brown hair,
medium light-brown eyes… this man was so completely ordinary that he stood out
among the others. This time the ‘our’ word was ‘
mave’
, indicating
ownership by a group having mixed or unknown gender. The man’s light-blue robes
were trimmed with a fine double black line, Kirrah noticed, beginning to feel
the first tendrils of panic at the level of doubtless-important details pouring
in on her rapidly overloading memory.

“Opeth shu’Teeklae, our Armsmaster”
At this, the slightly taller man stood forward, grizzled gray hair and the
darkest eyes, irises almost cobalt blue. A thin scar, almost the match to one
on Lord Tsano’s face, ran from the corner of Opeth’s left eye to the tip of his
chin. His grip was firm but not testing, and he smiled as their hands touched.
His
blue robes, a frantic corner of Kirrah’s mind noted, had a thin double orange
border and a complex circular orange knot at each shoulder.
How am I going
to remember all this? I need a contact specialist! Oh, Angela, you’re missing
all the fun!
Next was:

“Delima shu’Maakael, Guildmaster”,
a shorter graying blonde woman, whose soft appearance was belied by a pair of
sharp gray-green eyes and firm, thin lips. Blue robe, single red line of trim.
No, wait – a red line and a blue line the
same color as the robe
,
showing only by its stitching…
Don’t I at least get a manual
, thought
Kirrah,
and a month to study it?
Finally, the King turned to the
dark-haired woman about Kirrah’s age, slender, perfect high-cheekboned
features, perfect pale complexion, and dark gray eyes that could only be
described as
deep
: like Slaetra’s but somehow without judgement of any
kind.
You might as well be looking at a sensor lens
, Kirrah thought -
a
warm-hearted sensor lens
, she amended, as the woman’s face lit up with a
brief friendly smile.

“Issthe shai’Ro, our Priest.” The
word Lord Tsano used for ‘priest’ was
ath’lae
, meaning ‘one who helps
the spirit with guidance’. The tall, pale woman stepped gracefully forward,
moving like a professional dancer. Kirrah felt a small shock as something in those
dark gray eyes connected, just for an instant, with something inside her:
something
dark, something new, something angry
; a shock, she realized, of
recognition
.
Narrow white and black trim on Issthe’s robes completed Kirrah’s color-coding
inventory for the day.
I hope,
she thought.
This feels like my first
day on the Helm simulator, everything’s new, no attention-sorting and
prioritizing habits in place yet. I suppose any of these good people would feel
just as baffled by a Helm’s board
.

At a nod from Lord Tsano,
refreshments were brought in, light fruit juices in small mugs, and some kind
of tiny, creamy pastries that could easily become addictive. When they were all
comfortably seated around a low table, Lord Tsano said:

“We have heard of your excellent
progress with language studies, and our
ro’tachk
Irshe,” here a nod to
the sergeant seated at the corner to her left, “has reported finding you
guarding this child, Akaray, in the ruined village. We have gathered to welcome
you as a foreigner and to hear your words.”

Well, here goes
, thought
Kirrah, mentally discarding several versions she had prepared to explain her
presence.
Several lies
, she realized.
What was the point? They seemed
friendly enough, and with so much for her to absorb, the big advantage of
telling the truth was that it would make remembering what she’d said, a lot
easier
.

“My words will be difficult to
accept. I ask your patience, I speak my truth.

“I am a soldier like Irshe, charged
with patrolling the borders of my Realm, also finding new …lands, for my King
to (
damn, no word for ‘colonize’!
) …to send farmers and other people to
live. However I do not travel the land, I travel the space between the stars,
and my …patrol seeks not a new valley, but entire new worlds.”

“Where then is your home?” asked
Opeth, the gray-haired Armsmaster.

“A vast distance beyond your sky.
At night I can show you the direction, but it is too far to see. We travel in
vessels made of …iron, (
no word for hullmetal alloy, either!
) that move
far above the air, like your boats move above the bottom of the river.

“As we approached your world, we
were attacked by raiders. In the conflict, their two vessels were destroyed,
and our one.”
That’s it
, thought Kirrah,
keep it simple but honest
.
“I alone lived. I landed six days ago on your world. I met this boy,” a nod to
Akaray on her immediate right, who was drinking in every word. “We fought the
irwua
together, my armor protected me and fed me air, and the beast tired of trying
to eat me in it. Akaray made decoy, and I escaped the pond.”

“Your armor must be stronger than
it looks,” interjected Opeth. “An aroused
irwua
nest will tear a horse
in two, and devour a young
mu’uthn
.”
This at least, I am prepared
for,
thought Kirrah.

“I ask someone to draw a blade, and
I show,” she said. When several at the table drew back and concerned glances
were exchanged, Slaetra broke in:

“I believe she means
kir’shazza
,
a
lesson-between-friends
, no offense taken.” Postures relaxed, and at a
gesture and a word from Opeth, one of the guards standing at the side of the
chamber stepped forward and held out his dagger, hilt first. Kirrah set her
suit to “splint, right forearm, override”, wishing for the twentieth time she
was wearing one of the Model 3C Combat Suits, where protective rigidity was an
automatic and instantaneous response to attack. She accepted the
twenty-centimeter dagger and placed the hilt in the guard’s hand, wrapping his
fingers around the hilt and her left hand around his right. Then supporting his
right hand solidly with her left, she drew her right forearm firmly across the
iron blade, making a dull rasping sound. After a few sawing passes, she
returned to her seat at the table and held out the undamaged limb for
inspection. On impulse, she reached for one of the lit candles which had
accompanied the refreshments, against the gray morning light filtering in.
Holding her arm at the top of the flame and struggling with her limited
vocabulary, she said:

“The armor is safe for me.” Issthe,
whose calm gray eyes had taken in this demonstration impassively, asked: “Did
Akaray enter the water as decoy for the
irwua
?”

“No,” said Kirrah, noticing how
neatly the conversation was being led around to her sidearm, and from what
unexpected direction. “He used a piece of the
tso’ckhai
which I had
slain. He is a wise boy and does not make un-needful sacrifice.” Smiles all
around at that. Kirrah almost missed Opeth’s subtle nod to Irshe, who asked:

“Does your
not-sword
easily
kill such a predator with one blow?” The room seemed extra silent. Kirrah
looked around at the faces surrounding her – expectant, curious, watchful,
friendly, perhaps a slightly dubious frown from Delima the Guildmaster…
I
bet you’ve heard your share of whoppers before, haven’t you?
Kirrah
thought.
I don’t blame you a bit. Well, I suppose we had to get to this…

“I am at difficulty,” she said.
Damn
that vocabulary – I must sound like an idiot… but they seem to be hanging on
every word, and the alternative is to look like even more of an idiot by
talking into my sleeve. What was it Angela said,
‘Communication between
humans is ninety percent body language and ten percent tone of voice, the rest
is words’.

“I offer to show my
not-sword
,
as
lesson-between-friends
, no offense.”
(Thank you for that phrase,
Slaetra!)
“Pardon my words, I am foreign.”

“Proceed,” said Lord Tsano, who
seemed to be content for the most to let the others talk while he observed. It
would be a mistake to assume small minds go with large bodies, Kirrah reminded
herself, notwithstanding some stellar examples she had met in the Regnum
Merchant Fleet.

“Not safe here,” she said. “Much
light, much noise, much damage. Outside, place others will not observe?” Lord
Tsano nodded to Armsmaster Opeth, who beckoned one of the guards and spoke in
low rapid tones. The man marched purposefully from the room.

“What are your plans?” asked Lord
Tsano. “Do you stay with us, do you go? Will others come for you?”

“Others come in…” brief conference
with Slaetra… “two hundred days. Possibly a little sooner or longer. Before it
died my vessel sent a messenger, an object-that-speaks. My Realm’s Armsmen know
where we were and when we should return. I expect they will follow to find what
happened to my vessel.

“When they arrive, I will be under
their orders,” said Kirrah. “My realm has found many worlds, but few with
people. It is a joy to find you. I will tell them they should put a
trade-building where you direct, and an embassy.” Brai’klao shu’Naei, the thin
professor who had come with them from the school, spoke up for the first time:

“Your pardon, Lord Tsano, she does
not understand your concern is for the boy.”
Huh
? thought Kirrah, taken
aback by the apparent non sequitur.

“Ah, Brai’klao, ever vigilant for
your
karadoi
,” said Lord Tsano. Kirrah glanced at her wristcomp:

< karadoi · client, patron (99+) >

Oho, so I have a
lawyer
on my side
, she realized. And I didn’t even know …wait a minute, we’re
talking about contact between his people and an advanced culture, what’s Akaray
got to do with it? At her obvious bafflement, Brai’klao explained that later
that day, Lord Tsano would have to render
wathra’ch,
judgement for
Akaray, who as an orphan would need placement in a good home.

No no no!
wailed a
part of Kirrah, as Akaray shifted closer and slid a small hand into hers.
Look,
Captain, he followed me home, can I keep him?
Kirrah began to realize that
there were some wrenching decisions ahead, as her life would be dislocated a
second time by her rescue. Slaetra spoke:

“Kirrah and Akaray are bound by
two
lives balanced
. Would they both be willing to accept temporary adoption?
Kirrah, this would mean that you would be as his parent, also as guardian over
his land-grant, until your people come. The danger is then, when you must
return to duty. And leave him.”

“You should know,” added Lord
Tsano, “that as sole survivor of the village of Malame’thsha, Akaray is now the
bearer of their land-grant, which makes him mayor and beneficiary of any
produce from their land.”

“That is not an immediate concern,”
said Delima the Guildmaster. “We must stop the Wrth raiders to make farming
secure,” with a short sideways glance at Armsmaster Opeth, “or there will be no
produce to discuss”.

“I will help if I can,” said
Kirrah. “Why did they attack the village?”

“We think they are too many for
their own lands,” said Opeth, “and they seek our land for hunting and pasture.
We are concerned about an alliance between Wrth raiders in the north and the
O’dai nation, west across the Sea of the Sun.”

“When my people come, they will be
powerful allies for the Talamae,” said Kirrah. “We do not seek war, but we will
protect our friends. We want all to prosper in their own lands.

“May I accept temporary adoption of
Akaray? If you agree,” she said, looking down at the boy. “I must return to my
…patrol when they arrive, perhaps as soon as two hundred days.”

“I will go with you,” he said.

“Akaray,” she said, returning his
searching gaze, “I am bound to my service, you are too young to go into danger
with me. I will be your adopted mother until then. Lord Tsano will find you a good
home.”

“As long as you allow, I stay with
you,” said the boy. “
Two lives balanced
.”

At the return of the guard who had
left earlier, they all trooped out into the inner courtyard for Kirrah to show
her
not-sword
. A target had been set up at the far end of the entryway,
the door behind it closed. Kirrah walked down the length of the fifteen meter
enclosed entryway and inspected the target: a straw dummy covered by a layer of
leather armor, and behind a sixty-by-ninety centimeter wood and hide shield about
fifteen millimeters thick.
As friendly as these people are,
she thought,
they do get to the point. That is probably the Mark 1 Infantry Shield, and
our clever Armsmaster wants to know what my weapon will do to it.