Lee, Sharon - Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon

Spinning, mother and child shouted with laughter, then the ride was over, and the boy was set on his feet.

“Aelliana,” Anne said breathlessly, “here is my son, Shan yos'Galan.”

She looked down into a thin brown face dominated by eyes of so pale a blue they seemed silver, and bowed as Visitor-to-Child-of-the-House.

“Shan yos'Galan, I am pleased to meet you.”

“Shannie, this is Aelliana Caylon,” Anne said. “Please make your bow and welcome the guest.”

A bow was produced, recognizably Child-of-the-House-to-Visitor. “Welcome to our house, Aelli,” he said exuberantly.

“Aelliana,” his mother corrected.

“No, allow it,” she said. “My youngest sister sometimes called me so.”

“His father tells me he needs to learn the forms. Shannie, what is our guest's name?”

“Aelliana Caylon,” he answered promptly. “Her sister calls her Aelli, and so may I.”

“You, my son, are incorrigible.” She turned her head. “Mrs. Intassi, allow me to make you known to Korval's guest.”

The grey-haired woman came forward, walking with Scout silence and the unmistakable grace of a pilot.

“Aelliana Caylon, I am pleased to meet you,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. She bowed a plain bow of introduction. “I am Mrs. Intassi, the heir's nurse.”

“Mrs. Intassi, I am pleased to meet you,” Aelliana said politely, returning the bow.

“Now, if you will excuse me, Pilot, it is time for this young student to apply himself to his numbers. Unless your ladyship would like him with you?”

“Numbers first,” Anne said promptly.

“Very well.” The nurse gathered Shan in with an glance. “Please make your bow to the guest and take leave of your mother.”

“Bye, Ma!” the young gentleman said in blithe Terran. To Aelliana, he bowed with more intent than mode, and offered, “Until soon, Aelli,” in Liaden.

“Until soon, Shan,” she replied. “Learn your numbers well.”

Nurse and student removed to the house, Anne and Aelliana following more leisurely.

“Do you have you a child?” Anne asked, her voice lazy and unconcerned in the chancy modelessness of Terran.

Aelliana blinked.

“Tiatha is my daughter,” she said. “Fosters she at—with?—Lyderg.”

“Maybe she'd like to come for a visit,” Anne said, as they reached the patio.

Aelliana bit her lip. It was certainly possible that her daughter might like to visit; she could not say. The probability of such a visit, however, was . . . very slim. Lyderg must surely have a controlling interest in Mizel's nursery by now; the temporary arrangement between cousin-houses had long since become permanent. Tiatha would think of herself as a daughter of Clan Lyderg, which had cared for her and educated her, and would in time require duty from her . . .

“Now, would you like tea, or would you rather I show you to your apartment?” Anne asked. “I hope you'll like it; the windows look over the park. Sometimes in the evening, the syka come to graze at the treeline. And the birds! I—”

“Your pardon.” Aelliana stopped. It was hard to breathe. For a heartbeat she was the woman she had been two days ago, her shoulders climbing up toward her ears, and her chest tight with misery.

“Your pardon,” she said again, and took a deliberate breath, willing herself to relax. “I—You are very kind, but I have rooms at Jelaza Kazone. My things—”

“All moved while we were shopping,” Anne interrupted airily. “Your car was sent up, too.”

Daav's hand there, Aelliana thought, and no other, gaming her as skillfully as if she were a counterchance marker. And she, the gamepiece, complicit in her own defeat, too meek to put herself before him immediately, demanding that they speak, and—how dare he!

Aelliana swallowed, for it was not fear, but anger that informed her. She took a deep breath and retreated into the constraints of adult-to-adult.

“I do not wish to be rude,” she said. “However, I must—I will return to Jelaza Kazone.”

“Forgive me,” Anne replied, following her into Liaden. “The delm requires yos'Galan to accommodate Korval's guest at Trealla Fantrol.”

“The delm,” Aelliana said, with restraint, “is in error.”

It seemed to her that her tall hostess smiled then, just a little, but her answer had nothing of levity in it. “As a member of the clan, of course I am bound by the delm's word. Your apartment has been readied, and—”

A shadow moved at the door, and Er Thom yos'Galan stepped onto the patio. His first glance was for his lifemate, and betrayed concern.

“Anne? Is there a difficulty?”

“Korval's guest wishes to return to Jelaza Kazone,” she said calmly.

Both winged brows lifted, and he turned gravely to Aelliana.

“Scholar, the delm was most wonderfully clear: yos'Galan is to have the honor of hosting Korval's guest. Please be assured that your comfort is the first concern of our House. It is of course vexing to have only yesterday settled into one set of rooms, and be obliged immediately to resettle into another. However, that is behind you, now. I hope and trust that you will find your apartment here to be everything that is convivial.”

“I am grateful to the House for its care,” Aelliana said, careful to keep her voice steady. “I—beg you forgive my lack of address, and honor me by accepting plain words.”

“Certainly, Scholar,” he murmured. “Korval is no stranger to plain speaking.”

“Plainly, then, sir: As much as the care of the House warms me, I do not wish to guest here—nor am I persuaded that Daav wishes it! I must return to Jelaza Kazone and—and speak with him. I fear—it is possible that his delm has measured with a heavy hand, and precipitously.”

“Ah.” Er Thom yos'Galan shared another glance with his lifemate. “The Code does tell us that the guest is sacrosanct, and that it is the duty of the House to meet the guest's reasonable desires,” he said.

“So I have also been taught,” Anne agreed.

“We should scarcely care to disoblige the Code, or the guest.” He bowed, sweet as a flower dancing on its stem. “I will myself drive you to Jelaza Kazone. Do you leave immediately?”

Relief washed through her so strongly that she feared her knees would fail.

“Yes,” she said, and cleared her throat. “Immediately.”

Er Thom yos'Galan paused as they came into the garage, his bright head cocked to one side.

“This is the car that Daav put at your disposal?”

Aelliana moved her shoulders, impatient to be away. “He had said the blue car, but, truly, sir, this is the first I have seen it.” Her voice carried an edge unbecoming to a guest. She took a breath and inclined her head. “I hope that it is not improper,” she added.

He seemed to shake himself, and awarded her a grave smile. "Not in any way improper, Pilot; and it is, since you are too nice to ask, a very good car. It was our mother's. But, come! I see you are in haste to return to Daav.

“Of course you understand that the duty of the delm is to care for and solve for those of the clan,” he said some few minutes later, as they turned onto the valley road. “It is an uncomplicated melant'i, though stern, and with a tendency toward avarice. Therefore, it is the duty and privilege of we who respect the delm, but who hold Daav in our hearts, to be vigilant on his behalf, and ensure that Korval takes no more than the clan needs, and not so much that Daav withers and becomes nothing more than the demands of duty.”

Aelliana swallowed, staring at the Tree, the clouds of evening tangled in its tall branches. Her anger had not yet cooled—a novel sensation. And yet, she recalled suddenly, in the days before her marriage and the damage done, she had owned a temper, and had sometimes defied Ran Eld from what their mother had styled as wildness, and her grandmother as high spirits. Still, it would not do, if her first words to her erring copilot were hard. She ought at least to—