Lee, Sharon - Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon

“Am I destitute, Mr. dea'Gauss?” Daav asked lightly.

“Indeed, no,” the older man answered, with one of his rare smiles. “Merely a trifle embarrassed.”

“Hah.” Daav inclined his head. “You are far too good to us, Mr. dea'Gauss.”

“Nonsense, your lordship.”

* * *

The restaurant was scarcely a block away, on yet another quietly expensive street, its trim door two shallow steps above the level of the sidewalk. They stepped into a dim vestibule overlooked by a grey-haired woman of elegant bearing, who bowed welcome.

“Lady yos'Galan, how pleasant to see you again! The garden niche for you and your guest?”

“Only if my guest will humor me,” Anne replied. “Allow me to make you known to her—this is Pilot-Scholar Aelliana Caylon. Aelliana, here is Vesa bel'Ulim, host of the Garden Gate Café.”

“Pilot-Scholar Caylon, you honor my establishment!” Vesa bel'Ulim bowed as host-to-honored-guest. “Please allow me to commend the garden niche to you; it is quite the most secluded table in the house; one may be entirely shielded from the curious there.”

“It is also the most pleasant seat in the house,” Anne added, and awarded the host a small bow. “Or so I believe.”

The other woman smiled. “Not everyone is as discriminating as her ladyship.”

Secluded? She had, Aelliana realized, entirely failed to worry about her supposed notoriety. But—Daav had cared, hadn't he? And apologized for exposing her to gossip. Perhaps Anne's instructions from her delm had included shielding Aelliana—which would also explain the quiet, exclusive tailor shop. And, now that she thought of it, a place away from overwide ears would suit her, very much.

“It sounds quite pleasant,” she said to Anne.

The tall woman smiled and inclined her head to the host. “Your eloquence carries all before it,” she said. “Lead on!”

The garden niche was delightful, Aelliana owned, concealed from the rest of the tables placed among the flowers in the extensive back garden by a screen of trellises, each overgrown with a particular flowering vine.

Aelliana waited until lunch had been served and tasted before making her request, low-voiced, and in Liaden.

“I wonder if I might ask you,” she said hesitantly, “something of a . . . personal nature.” She raised her eyes to Anne's lively, intelligent face. “Regarding your . . . the condition you share with Lord yos'Galan.”

“Our lifemating, you mean,” Anne said, sitting back with an air of satisfaction. “By all means, ask! I have been hoping you would!”

“Did you choose this place for its secluded table, hoping that I might?”

“I had been hoping you would ask,” Anne said. “A secluded table offers opportunity, and the food is wonderful. Do you agree?”

Aelliana smiled. “Yes, I do agree. I had never used to care about food, until—until yesterday. Now, it seems that every meal is more delicious.”

“That may be the effects of the healing,” Anne said softly. “Wounds fester in strange ways.”

“So I begin to discover. I look back upon—only two days ago!—and I am astonished at myself. Mere commonplaces filled me with terror—” She moved a hand, sweeping her digression away. “But that is neither here nor there! What I would like—very much—to know is—Daav had told me, you see, that the Healers discovered us—he and I—as natural lifemates. He said that you and his brother share a like bond, and count it a great happiness.”

“It is the greatest joy of my life. However, at first, it was so . . . strange. You may laugh, but I thought I had quite lost my mind! Now, I look back and hardly know how I bore my life—before. I was so alone. It seems unnatural now—an illness that had been with me for so long I hadn't realized I was unwell, until, suddenly, I was healed.” Anne raised her wine glass and sipped. “Similar, perhaps, to your condition.”

Aelliana leaned forward. “It was not a smooth transition? There were—misunderstandings at first? Difficulties with the—the interface?”

Anne laughed. “Difficulties doesn't begin to say it, lassie!” she exclaimed, in Terran. She continued in Liaden. “It took time, and work, and communication. Understand me, the link with Er Thom is sunk deep into my heart. I think if it were taken away, now, I would die of it. But when we first discovered ourselves—bound, neither of us knew what was happening, nor how to make sense of it. We tried—I tried—to deny it, which only caused more confusion and needless pain.” She nodded at Aelliana's plate.

“Don't ignore your meal, Pilot.”

“No, of course not!” Aelliana picked up her tongs and once again addressed her plate. Long, thin noodles and chunky vegetables in a cream sauce, with spark-spice and lemon. She thought she'd never tasted anything so delightful. Of course, she had thought that of the sandwiches she had shared with Daav yesterday, at Healer Hall.

“Are you and Daav,” Anne Davis murmured after a few moments, “having difficulty with the interface?”

“It seems that we—I—may have . . . misunderstood—and became entangled in—expectation,” Aelliana said slowly. She looked up. “Also, you know, it appears that our link may not be—operating entirely as it should. There was—trauma, long left untended, which may be disrupting . . . ” Her eyes filled abruptly and she looked down, blinking.

“Certainly, together, we can—we can overcome this difficulty,” she whispered.

“Certainly, you can,” Anne said, with a crisp return to Terran. “Neither one of you is an idiot. Now, what do you say to dessert?”

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Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon

Chapter Thirteen

Each one of a Line shall heed the voice of the thodelm, head of that Line, and give honor to the thodelm's word. Likewise, the thodelm shall heed the voice of the delm, head of the clan entire, and to the delm's word bow low.

Proper behavior is that thodelm decides for Line and delm decides for clan, cherishing between them the melant'i of all.

—Excerpted from the Liaden Code of Proper Conduct

“Well, the book,” Anne said, as she drove them at a sedate and seemly pace down the valley road. “It has its detractors. There's not much support for a common root-tongue—since that would give us a common root. Too many people find that offensive.”

“Yet the scholarship—”

“Oh, well, the scholarship!” Anne laughed. “Jin Del—Scholar yo'Kera, my . . . colleague. He had the proof. But you must have seen the articles in the Scholar Base, written by those who have their own proofs . . . ”

“I had seen that there was some lively discussion,” Aelliana admitted. “Has Scout Linguist pel'Odyare published her results, as yet? It seemed she felt your arguments might be supported.”

“I've been in communication with Master pel'Odyare; we're doing a source match, in our spare time.” Anne threw her an amused glance. “Which is why it's taking us so long.”

Aelliana laughed.

“In the meanwhile, the delm had a notion, though I'm not certain I have the right of it, yet. It seemed he was for sending some of Korval's records along with the book to certain . . . influential thinkers. What came of that, I know not—and it's possible we'll never know. Ah, now! Here we are, home.”

She pulled the car to a stop, and they got out, walking side by side across the lawn toward the patio door.

“Ma!” A white-haired child hurtled across the lawn and into Anne Davis' laughing embrace. She caught him under the arms and swooped him up, spinning in a tight circle. A grey-haired woman stood at a small remove, her hands folded and her face composed. The effortless stillness of her pose called Scout to Aelliana's mind.