The Saga of the Renunciates (74 page)

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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

Tags: #Feminism, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fiction, #Short Stories, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Space Opera, #Adventure, #American, #Epic, #Fiction in English, #Fantasy - Epic

BOOK: The Saga of the Renunciates
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“Did Camilla lend you this? It is exquisite,” she said. “I have seen it among her treasures; she let me wear it at the party in the Guild House when I took my oath…” and as she mentioned Camilla’s name, she saw something she could not identify; trouble, unease…
fear
? What was troubling Magda? She could still see it, as an uneasy haze, when Monty came and demanded a dance, and as they moved away, she saw the way Monty’s hand glided to Magda’s bare neck, the way he hovered over her, an intensity almost sexual…
what is the matter with me, why am I seeing things like this? It can hardly be a side effect of pregnancy; at least it’s not one I ever heard about.

“We’ve got to think of a way to get that girl back,” said Alessandro Li, “No offense, Haldane, but she’s worth any ten other employees in Intelligence; the girl’s a genius, we can’t let her waste herself in the field like this! She deserves a holiday, certainly, but we can’t take the chance she’ll go over the wall! That seems to be what happened to Carr; he certainly isn’t listed as being on detached or undercover status! Yet every damn time I spotted Carr and tried to move in on him tactfully, Magda would drag me off for another dance.”

“But Magda is right,” Jaelle said gently. “Even if this Carr is someone you wish to know, there is a right and a wrong way to make someone’s acquaintance Even at Midsummer, you cannot possibly walk up to
Dom
Ann’dra Lanart and say, ‘Hi, Andy, what’s new?’ ” Savagely, she mimicked the Terran’s accent, and Peter cringed.

“I don’t know why not,” Montray said. “I wouldn’t be that crude, of course, but surely I could speak to an old employee— not that he was ever in my department—and request him to do me the courtesy of coming in to straighten out his legal status. There are standards of manners among Terrans too—even if you do not think so, Mrs. Haldane. I am sorry we have made such a bad impression on you.” And as Magda and Monty returned, the Coordinator touched Magda on the shoulder.

“Miss Lorne. I would like to remind you that both Alessandro Li and myself outrank you very much; and I am going to make it an official order. Find us a way to communicate with the man Carr, and do it before we leave here.”

She said icily, “May I remind you that at the moment I am officially on leave, and that I am here as a favor?”

“You are here officially under my orders, like every Terran on this planet,” said Montray grimly, “and that includes Andrew Carr. I don’t know why we are handling this man with gloves; he is, after all, a Citizen of the Empire…”

“Once and for all, he is
not
,” Magda said, “I took the trouble to check his legal status. He is carried on the rolls as
dead
, and legal death, carries legal termination of citizenship… and legally, termination of citizen’s privileges carries also freedom from citizen’s duties…”

“If you are going to argue legalities,” said Montray, “he is a year away from being legally dead; he is
presumed
dead for one more year; after another year he may be legally dead. There is a difference.”

“No,” Peter said. “On the Darkovan side a man is who he says he is, unless he has committed a crime.”

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” Montray said. “You’ve spent too much time in the Darkovan sector and you are going native. And you, Miss Lorne, are going to obey orders or you can be shipped offplanet—it’s as simple as that.”

Magda said, trapped and furious, “If you want a scandal which will insure that we are not only the first Terran delegation invited here, but also the last, you let those orders stand! In a specific matter involving protocol in the field—and you can’t deny that we are in the field—a resident expert has a legal right to override even a direct order from a Legate, if said order would damage the reputation and credit of the Terran Empire. And, take it from me, this one would.”

Sobered, he stared at her, and Jaelle knew Magda was right. But would either of them back down? At last Li said heavily “What’s the proper protocol for approaching him, then?”

“An introduction must be made by a mutual acquaintance,” Magda said, “and the one of higher rank must initiate the introduction. The Regent of Alton is not here this year—I have heard that his lady is ill—and
Dom
Ann’dra is here as his personal delegate.”

“Can’t you see,” Cholayna said gently, “that is exactly why we must talk to him before he disappears again. Any Terran who can work himself so strongly into the hierarchy of a Domain—I am not the expert you are, Magda, but I know it is extraordinary.”

She said slowly, “If he is a member of the household of the Regent of Alton, your best choice would be to send a man in the field to Armida, and ask for a private interview with
Dom
Ann’dra—not with Andrew Carr—and make certain that the interview was private;
then
broach your business. Treat him as if he were a field agent whose cover you were reluctant to disturb.”

“I hardly have time for that—” Alessandro Li said, but old Montray sighed. “You’re right, at that. I guess I’m getting too old for this job, Lorne. And I’m used to having you as my right hand.”

“We can arrange that,” Cholayna said, “but it will take time…”

“We have plenty of that,” Monty said, “Carr—Dom Ann’dra, I mean—isn’t going to run away. He’s evidently well established there and highly visible.” He touched Magda’s hand and moved closer to her. “And if we stand here arguing all night, the Darkovans will surely think we are plotting against them. I suggest we dance. May I—”

Jaelle, watching them closely, saw again the tension between them; but the elder Montray moved in, “Rank has its privileges,” he said with heavy-handed jocularity. “My turn for a dance, Magda. I wouldn’t step out on this floor with anyone else, but you know how to make me look acceptable.”

Peter, also reminded of duty, said to Cholayna, “Would you like to dance?” and left Jaelle talking to Alessandro Li, who promptly asked her for a dance.

“Do you mind if I don’t? I’m still a little short of breath,” she said. She stood fanning herself, watching the dancers. The music came to an end, her eyes went to where Cholayna and Peter had come to halt, near the buffet.

“Who is the lady who came to speak to Haldane?” Aleki asked suddenly, and Jaelle saw, with surprise, that Lady Rohana had left the line of dowagers and approached Peter and Cholayna.

“She is my kinswoman—my mother’s foster-sister,” said Jaelle, “Lady Rohana Ardais—”

“And the man beside her?”

“Her son. My cousin Kyril. Yes, I know of the resemblance,” she said, and indeed it was stronger than ever; Peter in his Terran dress uniform, his cropped red hair bright in the room, and Dom Kyril, his hair slightly longer, curling about his earlobes; Dom Kyril bowed stiffly and she saw him say something polite to Cholayna, and all at once it seemed that the space between them in the room melted as if she was standing by Peter’s side, and Rohana spoke beside her ear.

Is Jaelle here tonight, Piedro? I was hoping to speak with her about taking her seat in Council

she did tell you that she is now expected to attend Council as one of the few remaining in direct succession to the Aillard Domain. I suppose
?

Jaelle felt herself turn white. She had not wanted Peter to know that; she had carefully not spoken of it. The room around her suddenly went fuzzy and dim and Magda was suddenly holding her arm.

“What is it,
breda
? Are you still feeling faint? Perhaps you should not have come to anything as crowded as this,” Magda said solicitously. “Please, sit down again, we’ll sit here for a little while and talk. I wouldn’t think Peter would have dragged you here tonight if you weren’t feeling well, as strongly as he feels about having a child…”

Jaelle, through Magda’s touch on her shoulder, could feel the other woman’s thoughts, the sharp regret,
you are doing what I could not manage to do, giving him that child
… “How did you know? Did Marisela tell you?”

Magda shook her head. “No; she did not mention it. Were you in the Guild House?”

“While you were on the fire lines,
breda
: I was worried about you,” Jaelle said.

“It was not she who told me, it was Monty; I was in the Terran HQ today, making a report,” Magda said, and told Jaelle how Monty had come to the Guild House, and how she had happened to be invited. She left out a certain private half-hour, but Jaelle, with that frightening new awareness, picked it up anyhow, and was shocked. She didn’t want to know. Why had Magda told her this? But Magda
hadn’t
. She had picked it up from the other woman’s mind.
Laran
again. To ward away her uneasiness she said flippantly, “Just like a Terran; working all day even at Midsummer!”

Magda lowered her voice and said, “We’d better speak Darkovan.”

“I thought we were,” Jaelle said. “Is it normal, Margali, to be so confused? Those machines—I never know, any more, which language I am speaking…”

“That could be one of the side effects of the corticator,” Magda began, and stopped, as if frozen; to cover it, she took a couple of wine glasses from a servant circulating with a full tray,

“There is
Dom
Ann’dra,” she said, and Jaelle, following her eyes, saw a small group of men in the colors of the Alton Domain, with a tall man, fair as a Dry-Towner, at their center. Was Magda seriously trying to tell her that this man was the renegade Terran who had supposedly gone down with the plane, and reappeared somewhere in Alton lands, in the service of the Alton Regent? Chewing her lip, Magda said, “I must speak with him, warn him. He said that he would be leaving the city at dawn…” and Jaelle no longer bothered to question how Magda knew. But as Magda started to move away from the bench Jaelle tugged at her hand.

“You were just lecturing them on protocol; how can you—

“But I do know him,” Magda said. “He saved my life on the fire lines. And he came to the Guild House this morning to bring Ferrika there…”

“I do not know Ferrika at all,” Jaelle said. “She took the oath at Neskaya, but is she not Marisela’s oath-daughter? And yet she was traveling with this
Dom
Ann’dra, whoever he is—” Jaelle was frowning, confused, but Magda murmured, “
Breda
—” and Jaelle was touched, knowing Magda rarely used the word with that inflection, “—trust me. I promise I will explain later.”

And she moved toward the man she had called
Dom
Ann’dra.

And then Jaelle saw something which made her realize why she could never be Magda’s replacement, or even her equal, in the Terran Zone. As she moved into Ann’dra’s visual field, Magda was a very proper and ladylike Darkovan woman, except for the short-cropped Amazon curls. Then, for perhaps a half a second, just as Ann’dra’s eyes lighted on her, she became transformed into a Terran; it was as if Jaelle could see through the Darkovan lady, who might have been Comyn of the second rank, to the woman standing there, as if in the half-naked Terran uniform, a perfect representative of the Empire. And then again she was a correctly courteous Darkovan noblewoman, bowing to a Comyn noble and tacitly asking permission to approach him.

Dom
Ann’dra bowed over Magda’s hand. Jaelle was not close enough to hear any of what they were saying, though it was low-voiced and quick, but she was confused again, surely this man was a Comyn noble, how could anyone possibly believe him Terran? Then Magda was back at her side again, and they were drifting together toward the buffet table, and Jaelle found that she had one sharp impression in her mind of
Dom
Ann’dra, Comyn or Terran; a tall powerful man, fair-haired, not handsome, but with an impression of immense power and self-confidence. It reminded her of—she searched in her mind for impressions—of the time when she had been presented, as a child, to Lorill Hastur, Regent of Comyn. He had been a small, quiet man, soft-spoken, almost diffident—or perhaps that was only good manners. But nevertheless she had the impression, behind the courteous quiet facade, of almost awesome personal power, kept perfectly controlled. It was what she associated with Comyn.
Dom
Gabriel had never had it, but then, he had been, since she knew him, an invalid. But that a Terran should have it? Nonsense; it must be only a trick of his great height and enormously powerful frame. The buffet was all but deserted; Jaelle scooped up a cup of some fruit drink but when she put it too her lips it was too sweet and she set it aside almost untasted.

“Look,” Magda said, “I think he is leaving.” And indeed
Dom
Ann’dra and the man with him were bowing before Prince Aran Elhalyn as if taking formal leave.

“It doesn’t make any difference, you know,” Jaelle said abruptly. “That man could talk all day to Montray, or to Aleki, without giving anything away that he didn’t want them to know.”

Magda was filling a small dish at the buffet with an assortment of fruits in cream. It looked delicious, and Jaelle looked at the other colorful delicacies almost wistfully, wishing she could manage to feel hungry enough to try them.

Magda said, “Can’t you see? That’s why I had to keep them apart. No matter what he told Li, it would be wrong; what’s the old proverb, it takes two for the truth, one to speak true and one to hear? Alessandro Li has made up his own mind about Carr; the truth is beyond him. What he wants is an excuse to have the Comyn declare Carr
persona non grata
so that Li could wring him out and find out everything he thinks Ann’dra can tell him about the Comyn. Then the Altons would have a grudge against the Terrans that would last for generations. And if Carr made up the lies Alessandro expects to hear he’d find some way to twist it…” Magda broke off, and Jaelle could almost hear her say,
I am disloyal, disloyal to my own people as I have been disloyal to everyone
, and her dismay stabbed with real pain at Jaelle.

She is my sister, and I cannot help her because I myself am so filled with confusion!

Magda gasped, “God above!” and abruptly she was thrusting through the crowd, muttering apologies. Jaelle, following slowly with her plate in hand, saw that Alessandro Li and Russell Montray, Peter hurrying behind them, were approaching Carr’s party near the door. Peter caught at the Coordinator’s shoulder, expostulating with him in a whisper, but Montray wrenched loose.

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