Kinsman's Oath Page 16

  An hour before the dinner, just as the first guests arrived to gather in the grand hall, the tailor delivered her clothing. She refused all assistance from the maid who came to help her dress. There was nothing elaborate about what she had chosen save for the captain's braid and cravat.

  She waited until she heard the bell summoning the guests to dinner, and then she went downstairs to join them in the dining hall.

  Tesar took one look at her and seemed to lose his voice. "No need to announce me," she said with a wry smile. "My presence will speak for itself."

  As indeed it did. She found an empty seat waiting for her beside Zurine, the only other woman permitted at table tonight save for Magna Egona Beneviste, Nyle's mother. Both ladies were superbly gowned and veiled. The gentlemen were as bright as rainbow fish in their brocades and velvets.

  Every eye fixed on her as she bowed and took her seat. Zurine stifled a gasp.

  "Magné, Matroné," she said, "I apologize for my tardiness. I beg your indulgence."

  With a glance at Casnar, she sat. No one spoke. Her gaze met that of her former betrothed across the table. He half rose as if he intended to desert the gathering, but good manners forbade it. No, only Cynara D'Accorso-fila would shatter the rules tonight.

  The servants resumed distributing the first course and the light wine that accompanied it, passing over the ladies. Cynara tapped a server's arm and signaled that she wished a glass.

  Zurine sat stiffly beside her as if she saw nothing. Matrona Beneviste fanned herself discreetly. Her husband was stony-faced.

  The other guests, two men of the Trade Council and several other burgher-lords who had encouraged the Pegasus Project, were somewhat less perturbed, but even they could hardly approve.

  The final guest was Phineas Janek.

  She lifted her glass to him. "Good evening, Ser Janek."

  Everyone stared at her father. He rose ponderously and gazed upon the gathering.

  "Magné and Nesté, I welcome you to the House of D'Accorso. You have honored me with your presence at my table. May the gifts of sea and earth nourish you this night."

  The Dharman men murmured the rote response. Casnar let his gaze sweep slowly to Cynara. By not the twitch of an eyebrow did he show dismay at her choice of raiment.

  "Tonight I welcome my daughter, Captain Cynara D'Accorso, just returned from space."

  Silence. Cynara rose and bowed to the table at large. "Guests of my father, I share this table with joy."

  It was a man's response that no Dharman woman would dare venture. If her brother had been here, he would hardly have borne the shame. But he had refused to see her since Tyr's death.

  His absent outrage was taken up by another. Magnus Egon Beneviste rose to his feet and glared at his host.

  "Is this a game, Magnus? Do you mock us by presenting this… this creature who flaunts her taint before us all?"

  "I do not mock," Casnar said. "I merely wish to reiterate my support for the Pegasus Project and the ship's crew and captain, who have most ably delivered their cargo once more with no loss of life."

  Two of the Council members murmured to each other. Cynara would stand before them in official capacity soon enough, but here they would witness her firm resolve even among her family. It was not a time to speak of business, or she suspected they would have many questions about the guest she had brought to Dharma.

  I hope you've done your work well, Uncle. "Without the patronage of the burgher-lords," she said, "there would be no Pegasus to stand against shaauri might and help restore the Alliance. Magné, I drink to you." She lifted her glass and drank. Three of the men followed suit. Her former betrothed did not, and neither did his father.

  Unable to contain himself, young Nyle jumped to his feet. "How can you permit this, Magnus D'Accorso?" he cried. "You shame Beneviste honor. You permit this female to wear men's garments and speak freely in honorable company." He flushed almost as red as his doublet. "If it is your desire to provoke—"

  "Sit down," his father commanded. "Magnus D'Accorso—"

  "I will not be silent." Nyle stared at Cynara with bitter contempt. "We were to ally ourselves with this House. I was to bed this… this abomination, neither male nor female, tainted with man's thoughts and man's desire—"

  Magnus Beneviste turned on his son. No words were spoken, but Nyle went pale and fell back into his seat. Cynara heard the echoes of the furious mental exchange and almost winced for Nyle.

  When it was over, Beneviste ignored Cynara as if she didn't exist and faced her father. "I can only presume, Magnus, that you have some purpose of your own by permitting this insult to your guests. You had offered your daughter Elendra—"

  "Yes, Magnus, to make amends for the disappointment you have suffered. I think you will find that Elendra is everything Cynara is not. You have lost nothing by ending the betrothal; indeed, you can have no better proof of my elder daughter's unsuitability as a wife." He smiled. "Is it not so, Captain? You have no interest in marriage or womanly ways."

  Cynara returned his smile, swallowing the humiliation he so casually bestowed.

  "Indeed, Magnus," she said, straightening her velvet coat. "My sole purpose lies with the Pegasus. If it did not, I would hardly be a worthy captain."

  Janek stood. "Forgive the intrusion of an outworlder, Magné. As one who has traveled with the captain's crew, I can vouch for Captain D'Accorso's competence and courage. She serves most honorably in Captain Tyr D'Accorso's stead." He sat down again, nodding pleasantly to his neighbor.

  Nothing surprised Cynara after the past few exchanges, but Janek's speech was a mystery. She didn't trust any praise from him, and his mention of Tyr could not be an accident. With his very compliments he undermined her legitimacy.

  And now, of course, she understood what her father had intended with her presence tonight. To his Council guests, he proved her commitment to the Pegasus. At the same time he demonstrated to the Benevistes that they were far better off with Elendra, who had finally come of age—that in fact they had acted with utmost wisdom by agreeing to the unbetrothal and biding in patience for resolution.

  Cynara understood, but she could not forgive. She bowed to her father and rose again from her chair.

  "Duty compels me to leave this august gathering," she said. "Magné, Fico, Matroné." She bowed from the waist and stepped back as a servant hastily moved her chair.

  Her father did not try to stop her. He'd accomplished his goal. Cynara strode into the hall and started up the staircase.

  You have no interest in marriage or womanly ways, Father had said. Of course she didn't. Except that Ronan hadn't left her thoughts for a moment in all the time she'd been at the palace, and she felt an absurd desire to seek him out and… and…

  "Captain." She turned on the landing at the sound of Janek's voice, reminding herself that it was not her privilege to challenge him to a duel. Persephoneans didn't fight that way.

  "Ser Janek." She smiled and leaned against the bannister. "I should thank you for your words on my behalf during dinner."

  "Why, Captain." He climbed halfway up the stairs and paused, unaffected by his inferior vantage. "I spoke only the truth. I also spoke to members of the Council earlier today." He examined the high polish on the komor-wood. "They are most eager to question Ronan and discover what benefits his knowledge may bring to the Alliance."

  "Benefits? You've already told them that he's an enemy, haven't you?"

  "Unfortunately, Magnus Jesper D'Accorso has prevailed with his fellow Councillors to delay the debriefing. I know Ronan is your uncle's guest. This is not a safe situation for Ronan, or Dharma."

  "You'd like nothing better than to destroy him."

  "We needn't be enemies, Cynara. You know your captaincy is called into question every time you return to Dharma. If you deliver Ronan to the Council freely, I feel sure that they will recognize the contribution you've made."

  "And you, of course, will emphasize my suitability to continue as Captain."


  "Naturally. That is why I offer advice: If you have any question of sending Ronan for debriefing within the next twelve hours, I would seriously reconsider."

  "Ronan has no objection to speaking with the Council if they'll guarantee his continued good health."

  "I am, as you have so often pointed out, merely an observer. I am not privy to the Council's decisions."

  "Is that really true, Janek?" She descended several steps. "I don't believe it for a minute."

  "I would avoid such speculation, Captain. It might not be wise, or healthy."

  "Are you threatening me? I would strongly advise—"

  A man-sized blur appeared behind Janek, and a moment later he was dangling off his feet. Ronan held him casually by his lace collar and slowly lowered him again, one arm locked around Janek's throat.

  "You are right not to trust this one," Ronan said, gazing up at Cynara. "Shall I kill him now?"

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  « ^ »

  The shock on Cynara's face made clear her answer even before she spoke. Ronan released Janek and stepped aside. He scrambled out of Ronan's reach.

  "It will be very difficult," Janek said, rubbing at his neck, "to convince the Council that this savage is an ally."

  Cynara's eyes lit. "Ah, now we speak truth. You'd best leave, Ser Janek, before I decide to let Ronan have you."

  "As you wish, Captain." He bowed military fashion and strode back toward the dining hall.

  "Well," Cynara said. "Your timing is impeccable, Ronan, but your technique needs some refinement." She descended the remaining steps and took his arm. "Does my father or Jesper know you're here?"

  "No. I came—" He hesitated and moved closer to her, searching her eyes. He did not need to read her expression to know what she felt; she shouted it at him, all the suppressed anger and humiliation and pain her pride would not permit her to reveal. She had learned to hide her feelings from the world, just as he had.

  But all the barriers she raised against intruders were weakening before him. She could not keep him out, but he allowed her to sense in him only those emotions that would draw her closer.

  He touched her cheek. "I felt your distress. I came at once."

  "You felt—" She became aware of his caress and went very still. "I was guarding my thoughts every minute in this house, but you're obviously linked to my emotions." She sat down on the nearest step. "You're getting stronger, Ronan. It's even more important to take you to a specialist who can work with you."

  "So that I, too, can control my thoughts."

  "Among other things. Uncle Jesper may not be able to delay our debriefing beyond tomorrow morning."

  "And you still fear that I may be concealing something that would alarm your Council."

  "No." She stood up, paced away from him, and turned sharply. "There are others like Janek who'll be looking for any excuse to keep you in permanent custody."

  "Then we should make preparations."

  "Yes. I'll gather my things and return with you to Jesper's. You'd better wait for me outside."

  "You do not wish others of your House to see me."

  She paused on the steps. "If you read me a little more deeply—which I don't advise—you'd know I'm only trying to protect you."

  "And yourself." He listened to the sounds from another part of the house, vast as it was—human voices, mostly male. "It is better when females leave their young to be raised by those suited for it."

  "I have no intention of discussing family matters here. Wait outside, Ronan."

  She ran up the staircase. Ronan stared at the colored glass several stories overhead, wondering at the waste of space for the purpose of ostentatious ornamentation. This dwelling was far larger than Jesper's, flaunting wealth in the way humans seemed to prefer.

  Cynara had grown up to this life of privilege, daughter of the aho'va of Line D'Accorso. But she had not been happy. She had no desire to be here among her kin; they made no place for her to fill. She had chosen exile and fought to establish a new House where she could be First. Now that House was under threat, by Janek and by this Council.

  Ronan's most powerful urge was to protect her from all enemies. Every time he touched Cynara's mind, even lightly, he wished to reach further and deeper. Every moment of sharing jeopardized his resolve to carry out the objective assigned him. Yet what he needed lay in her mind, and he must risk all to find it.

  The male voices came closer, and he went quickly to the door and slipped into the garden. A few minutes later Cynara found him. She led him to a path that wound behind the great house and through a gate in the high wall.

  The sun had crossed the horizon by the time they left the D'Accorso grounds and started for Va Jesper's house. The scents of night were strong in the High City, the cloying perfume of some night-blooming flower, fuel from cars skimming along the narrow streets, spices seasoning fish cooked over an open fire.

  Though they had been parted only a few hours, Cynara's nearness had a curious effect on Ronan. He lost awareness of the streets they walked and the humans they passed. He did not forget what he must do tonight, but his reasons for attempting it became more and more confused.

  A distraction was necessary. "Your parents," he said. "They are joined for life, but they are not lifemates."

  "It depends on what you mean by 'lifemate.'"

  "In shaauri-ja, it is a sacred emotional and spiritual bond between male and female, blessed by the Ancestors. Only a small percentage of shaauri are so honored. It cannot be feigned, nor can it be broken. Lifemates are always the founders of a House or Line; without them there is no prosperity. Alone among shaauri mates, they remain together until death."

  "You make it sound like a kind of Selection."

  "In many ways, it is. Your parents' marriage was arranged by their progenitors?"

  "Yes." She began to walk even faster, her gaze fixed on the ground before her feet.

  "This is why they are not contented in their Paths."

  "How did you…" Her lips thinned. "You'll have to stop doing that, Ronan. It goes beyond impolite when you intrude on my memories."

  "Even if I wish to help?"

  They reached the drive that turned into Jesper's dwelling. "Don't tell me that shaauri kin never quarrel. You have the scars to prove it." She came to a sudden halt. "I'm sorry. That was cruel."

  "Those I fought were not of Ain'Kalevi," he said. "And I was not shaaurin."

  "I know." She touched his arm and continued toward the house, stopping on the cobblestoned walk that led into the garden. "You want to know more about my background. That's fair enough. The more you understand of Dharma and my current situation, the better you'll be able to face the Council."

  Her words made a shell of indifference, but beneath them her emotions were in turmoil. She wished to hide herself from him, and at the same time her heart yearned to reveal the burdens she tried to carry alone.

  Listen, his instincts whispered, but do not feel. Speak, but do not judge. Touch, but do not bind. This is the way to court a human female.

  'This garden is pleasant," he said, pausing to touch a silver-edged leaf. "Shaauri, too, keep gardens."

  She sat down on a wooden bench flanked by white-flowered vines. "All shaauri, or only those of certain Paths?"

  "I knew an aino'va—Second of Will—who cultivated his own vegetation," he said. "Is that so strange?"

  "It's not strange at all. Uncle Jesper is a wonderful gardener. My parents preferred to have servants manage the grounds."

  He sat on the bench beside her. "Your parents hold great power in this city."

  "Very great."

  "But because you are female, you could not choose your Path."

  She gazed into the shadows. "Even in Low Town, where women have more freedom, they seldom choose. Few ever leave their home cities or villages."

  "Males may take Walkabout, but not females."

  "That's one way of putting it." She smiled and flexed her fingers,
catching moonlight on the golden bands of her rings. "If not for my family's authority, and the fact that my father wished to show the Persephoneans that he, at least, had become more progressive…" She shrugged. "It was a great blow when the shaauri blockade prevented personnel and materials from moving freely between the Nine Worlds and the Concordat. Because of his marriage to my aunt, Jesper remained on Dharma when most off-planet specialists returned to the Concordat. He and a few others like him were able to continue training technicians, engineers, and doctors on Dharma so the knowledge wouldn't be lost."

  "And you also received an education."

  "My uncle was happy to do it. My mother was horrified. I thought I was making great strides for Dharman women because I learned alongside the boys and was treated as an equal by my uncle." Her smile vanished. "In the end all my rebellion came to nothing. Because of my family's position, it was even more important to my father that I, his elder daughter, marry advantageously."

  "Another arranged marriage."

  "He needed all the allies he could find to keep Dharma moving forward so that one day it could join the Concordat as a full member." She sighed. "The man my father selected was the heir of a ruling family on Ikaria, one of our neighboring islands."

  Nyle Beneviste. That was the name in her mind, and the image that accompanied it was one humans might call attractive. Ronan snapped a flower from the vine and cupped it in his palm.

  "You did not mate with this man," he said.

  "No. The month I was to marry, my cousin Tyr returned from his first successful run as captain of the Pegasus. We'd always been close, Tyr and I.I worshipped and envied him; all I dreamed of was to escape my betrothal and travel in space. When he went on his second mission, I stowed away on the ship and left Dharma with him and his crew."

  "You made your own Walkabout."

  "I disrupted the plans of countless people. I was a distraction my cousin didn't need on such an important voyage. Because of me—" She turned her face aside, struggling to hold her grief in check. It swept over Ronan, mingling unexpectedly with his own memories until he could no longer tell one from the other.