Shields Lady (19 page)

needed it before in her life and Etion Rakken was the only one who could understand what she was going through. She moved blindly toward Etion's arms.

            The scarlet-toe hissed angrily as Etion started to put his hands around Sariana's waist. The lizard bared its small teeth and eyed the man with a menacing, jeweled gaze.

            Sariana paid no attention to the lizard. She was too intent on accepting Etion's comfort. Etion's hand rose to flick the scarlet-toe off of her shoulder and out of the way, but before either he or the lizard could act the door to the office slammed open with sufficient force to rattle the tiny panes of glass in the windows.

            "Touch my wife and I'll slit your throat," Gryph said calmly from the doorway. His hand rested lightly on the weapon kit at his belt.

            Etion's hands fell away from Sariana as he jerked around to confront the intruder in his office. Sariana spun around, too, appalled.

"Gryph! What are you doing here?"

            "That's obvious, isn't it? I'm retrieving my possession before she strays too far. Let's go, Sariana, you have caused enough scenes this morning."

            For some reason that accusation was just too much. Fury began to replace the desperation and panic she had been experiencing. It was an emotion unlike any she had ever felt before in her life. It raged through her, threatening to take control of her the same way passion had taken control of her last night.

            "Scenes? You've got the nerve to imply that I'm responsible for these scenes in which I find myself? Of all the arrogant, outrageous, disgusting things to say. How dare you, Gryph Chassyn? How do you dare to say such things after what you have done to me?"

            His sea green eyes flicked from Etion's face to hers. Sariana was dumbfounded to see the flare of warmth that lit his gaze when he looked at her. Nothing altered the hard, taut lines of his face, however. He held out his hand arrogantly.

            "Let's go back to the Avylyn villa, Sariana. I'm sure you would prefer to scream at me in private. When you're finished and you've had a chance to calm down you will thank me for depriving you of an audience."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

            "Come now, Sariana," he said with a gentle understanding that further infuriated her. "It would be one thing to indulge your temper in front of a westerner who accepts such behavior as normal. But it would be another matter altogether to do it in front of one of your countrymen. Think how embarrassed you would be afterward."

            Sariana was growing lightheaded with her anger. She was so outraged she couldn't even speak. She looked into Gryph's eyes and it dawned on her with alarming clarity that he was right. She couldn't throw a tantrum in front of Etion. It was unthinkable. She had to get out of this office and the only way out was with Gryph.

The only way out was with Gryph.

            Where had she gotten that notion? she wondered. It had just popped into her head. It reminded her of the way other words and sensations had jumped, unbidden, into her head the previous night as she lay in Gryph's arms. Perhaps she was on the edge of some sort of emotional breakdown, she thought hysterically. Maybe she was starting to hallucinate. Perhaps this was all a nightmare fabricated by her overwrought brain. But even as she questioned her sanity, she was walking toward the door; her hand lifting to accept Gryph's outstretched arm.

            At the last second she shook off the odd compulsion she'd had to accept the mockery of gentlemanly assistance and brushed past him without taking his arm. She didn't look back, nor did she hesitate. She made straight for the huge carved doors at the end of the wide banking hall. She was aware that Gryph was following. When he caught up with her she ignored him. The small weight of the scarlet-toe on her shoulder was the only comfort she had. The lizard clung to the fabric of her dress with its tiny claws. She had the distinct impression the creature was jubilant about leaving Etion's office.

            Gryph walked beside Sariana in silence. She refused to turn her head or speak to him, but she was suffocatingly aware of his presence. He was too tall, too strong, too big in every way. She felt smothered

by his nearness. She wanted to flee from him and at the same time she wanted to scream at him. The mix of emotions left her feeling powerless. Sariana was not accustomed to handling such a dangerous combination of sensations.

            Without a word she and Gryph made their way through the crowded streets. Neither of them paid much attention to the carriages or dragonponies and riders who tried to claim the thoroughfares. As if the drivers and riders sensed that these two were not playing the game today, they stayed out of the way.

            By the time she was walking through the villa doors and down the long gallery to her suite, Sariana was seething with frustrated rage. Gryph followed her silently into her room and she turned on him in fury.

            "You are a bastard. A complete and utter bastard. You call yourself a gentleman. You claim to be a lord and that you are descended from a Prime Family but you lie. You must be lying. Either that or you are a disgrace to your clan. You have treated me abominably. No gentleman would have acted as you have acted."

"Sariana, I know you're angry and I guess you have a right to be, but - "

            "Angry?" she blazed, backing toward the writing table. "Angry? You don't know the meaning of the word." She sought for and found some of the colorful phrases the locals used. "You are the arrogant, deceitful, lying spawn of a cloaksnake. With your degree of talent you should consider a career in dragonpony manure production. You have the sensitivity and understanding of a hawkbcetle. You are lower than the son of a needlerat. Worse than that. You must be the result of the mating of a pair of particularly slimey swamp toads. You have the sense of honor of a wharfsnake. I doubt your claim to a legitimate clan, do you hear me?"

            "I hear you," Gryph said. "But let's leave my clan out of this." He stripped off his jacket and slung it over one shoulder. Then he stalked across the chamber to where a beautifully faceted wine carafe sat on a hospitality table. He picked up the carafe and splashed the contents into a tiny glass.

            "By all means let's leave your clan out of this," Sariana snapped. "That sounds entirely reasonable considering the fact that there is apparently some question as to the origin of your entire social class." She couldn't think of a worse insult.

            Gryph cocked one brow at her as he took a long swallow of wine. "Is that right? Who told you that? Rakken?"

            "Yes, he did, as a matter of fact. He also told me about some totally ridiculous legend your people have managed to feed the rest of the westerners in order to win all sorts of special privileges."

            "Rakken is surprisingly well-informed. Most easterners never hear much at all about the old legends concerning the Shields." Gryph poured himself another glass of wine. "What did he say about us?"

            Sariana gripped the edge of her writing desk. She was trembling with the force of her emotions. Her voice shook with it. "He said you Shields have managed to concoct some crazy tale about not being members of the original social classes that arrived on board The Serendipity."

            Gryph shrugged. "The tale is true."

"You expect me to believe that?"

            "No. Not in your present mood. But one of these days you'll learn the whole story." "I don't want to learn the whole story. Do you understand? I don't want any part of it. I don't want any

part of you. I have enough problems in my life without getting involved in some idiotic local legend."

            "If you had wanted to stay uninvolved with local legends," Gryph informed her with a strange smile, "you shouldn't have tried to play games with one."

            Sariana gritted her teeth. "If you're talking about my using that hypnotic drug to try to make you a little more agreeable - "

"I am," he assured her and took another swallow of wine.

            "I've explained about that. I was desperate."

            "I suppose I should thank you for using the drug. If you hadn't tried that, I might never have found you. I wasn't looking for an eastern wife."

            "You talk about hunting a wife the way you would hunt wild game!" Sariana almost lost her voice again.

"Wife hunting is more difficult. But it was time for me to try to find one. It's not easy for a Shield, you

know. The right women are few and far between. Under the terms of the First Generation Pact, a Shield is allowed to search for a mate in any social class, but actually arranging to meet a lot of females from a lot of different classes is another problem. The population was so small back in the eariy days that it was relatively easy to locate a possible mate. The logistics of the situation have changed considerably since then. Clans have learned ways of keeping then-daughters out of sight of a potential Shield husband. It's difficult to line up a number of women from which to choose. Social conventions have proven more formidable protection for young women than weapons and walls would have done."

            Sariana's fingers closed around a hand-carved tray designed to hold stationery. "Now you speak of finding a wife the way you would talk of choosing fresh fish in the market!"

            Gryph shook his head. "Shopping for fresh fish is simpler and more rewarding, believe me." It was too much. Sariana lost the last shreds of her self-control. She hurled the stationery tray at

Gryph's head.

            He saw it coming but he didn't bother to duck. It was as if he took one look at its trajectory and knew it would miss him by a few centimeters. When it smashed against the wall behind him and fell harmlessly to the floor he took another swallow of wine.

            "Get out of here," Sariana shouted, snatching up a writing instrument and flinging it at him. He reached out and casually snatched it out of midair.

"There are a few things I have to tell you first," Gryph said quietly.

            " I don't want to hear them." Her fingers touched another object and she lifted it unthinkingly. "Leave me alone."

            Gryph eyed the sharp point on the message packet opener. "You and I are leaving at dawn tomorrow. Pack only the basics. We can't carry a lot of luggage."

            "If you think I'm going anywhere with you you're out of your mind." She threw the packet opener, only realizing the potential danger of the blade after it had left her hand. Her eyes widened in horror as the knifelike utensil whipped across the room in the blink of an eye.

            With a lazy movement that seemed to take place almost in slow motion, Gryph brought the jacket he'd slung over his shoulder down to a point just below his belt buckle. The packet opener slammed into the tough material of the jacket and lodged there. Gryph glanced down at where the blade would have struck had it not met the jacket first.

            "I can see where a codpiece might be a useful fashion item on certain occasions," he observed. Sariana was shocked by her own act of violence. It jolted her back to reality. "What have you done to

me?" she asked in a dazed voice. "It's because of you I'm acting this way. I've lost my self-control."

            "Relax, Sariana. Everyone does occasionally. It's nothing to get alarmed about." She stumbled away from the desk and sank into the nearest chair. "Please leave," she said stiffly. "Don't you want to know more about our trip?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

            He ignored that and continued to lounge against the hospitality table while he swirled the wine in his glass. "As far as everyone else is concerned, it will be a traditional wedding journey. I'll be taking you home to introduce you to my clan. It's expected. No one will question it."

            Something in his voice broke through Sariana's emotional daze. "You speak as if this stupid journey you're planning has another purpose besides ensuring my humiliation."

"It does. You and I are going to find the Avylyns' precious prisma cutter."

            She looked up, startled.

Gryph smiled evenly. "I thought that might get your attention."

            "Why do you continue to concern yourself with the cutter?"

            Gryph finished the last of the wine and set the glass down. "As I told the Avylyns this morning, the cutter has become Shield business. It must be found."

"I don't understand you, Gryph."

            "I know." He started toward the door. "And there is much about you that I don't understand. But we'll both have plenty of time to get to know each other on our wedding journey. Be ready at dawn, Sariana." He opened the door and closed it behind him.

            Sariana plucked the scarlet-toe off her shoulder and cradled it gently in her palms. The lizard gazed up at her with its unwinking, jeweled eyes.

            "If he thinks I'll tamely jump to his beck and call, he is in for a surprise," she informed the lizard. "You and I are indeed going on a journey tonight, but not with Gryph Chassyn. We are going to escape this madhouse."

Chapter 9

            Sariana crouched behind a row of stacked wine casks in a dockside warehouse and decided she was learning far too much about fear lately. It seemed to her that she had been forced to deal with one overpowering wave of emotion after another during the past few hours. Life had become terrifyingly irrational and dangerous for a young woman who had always assumed she knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it. Nothing was certain any longer.

            A tiny hissing sound in Sariana's ear warned her that the scarlet-toe was picking up on her anxiety. Automatically Sariana touched the lizard in a light, soothing gesture. The scarlet-toe hissed again, the sound so soft it didn't cany beyond the range of Sariana's hearing.

            "It's your fault we're in here," Sariana muttered softly. It was true. It had been the lizard's insistent hissing that had first alerted her to the fact that she was being followed. She had assumed in the beginning that it was Gryph trailing her through the streets of Serendipity down to the wharf and she had been angered as well as nervous. She hated the feeling of being hunted.