"And yet it is a tree," Er Thom said, as the car descended the hill to the valley floor. "Jelaza Kazone, Korval's Tree, which is at the house of my brother, also called Jelaza Kazone."
Jelaza Kazone
, the professorial corner of her mind supplied helpfully, meant "Jela's Peace" or "Jela's Fulfillment". She stared at the impossible tallness of it, and licked lips suddenly gone dry.
"Who is Jela?" she murmured, barely knowing that she asked the question aloud, so absorbed she was by the Tree itself.
"Cantra yos'Phelium's partner, all honor to him, who died before the Exodus."
Anne managed to move her eyes from the Tree—from
Jelaza Kazone
—to Er Thom's profile. "But—'Jela's Fulfillment'? And he never made it to Liad?"
"Ah. But it had been Jela's Tree, you know, and he had made her swear to keep it safe."
"Oh." She eased back slowly, and several minutes passed in silence, until she said: "So the delm is the Dragon who guards the Tree—the
actual
Tree. Your shield isn't an—allegory?"
"Ale—?" He frowned, puzzlement plain. "Your pardon. It—the delm's instruction, when we were children, was that each of us holds the burden of Cantra's promise, and—should there be but one of Korval alive, the life of that one was only to keep the Tree."
Anne sighed, slowly, and shook her head. "It's
the
Tree—Jela's original?"
"Yes," Er Thom murmured, slowing the car as they approached a cluster of low bushes.
"That makes it, what? Nine hundred years old?"
"Somewhat—older, perhaps," he said, flicking a glance at her as he turned into one of those long, mysterious driveways. "We arrive."
Jelaza Kazone, the house, was two stories high, overhung with a sloping roof. A porch girded the second story; chairs and loungers could be seen here and there.
It was, Anne thought in relief, a cozy sort of house, with nothing of the mansion about it, never mind that it was big enough to hold seventy apartments the size of her own on University. Perhaps the benign presence of Jelaza Kazone, the Tree, helped make it feel so comfortable.
For the Tree, pinnacle now lost to her sight, grew out of the center of the house.
Questioned, Er Thom told her that the house had been built piece-by-piece as the clan grew, until it now surrounded the Tree on all sides.
"My rooms are—
were
—on the second story, facing the inner court, where the Tree is." The car glided to a soundless stop and Er Thom made several quick adjustments, before turning in his seat to look at her.
"The delm will—very soon—See our child and the clan will rejoice," he said earnestly, taking her hand in his and looking up into her eyes. "Anne. If there is—a thing in your heart—you—are welcomed—to lay it before Korval for—for solving." The pressure of his fingers on hers was hard, nearly painful, and she had the impression he was striving to impart information of paramount importance.
"It is known—forgive me!—that you have none to speak on your behalf. We would not—wish to be—backward—in service to—to the guest." He drew a deep breath and released her hands, looking doubtfully into her eyes.
"I mean no insult, Anne."
"No, of course not," she said gently, while her mind raced. Traditionally, delms solved—spoke for—those of their own clan. For Delm Korval to be willing to speak for someone outside his clan—and a Terran besides!—was something rather extraordinary. Anne inclined her head deeply.
"I am—disarmed—by Korval's graciousness," she said carefully. "You do me great honor. I will not hesitate to bring any worthy matter to the delm's attention."
Er Thom's face relaxed into a smile.
"That is good, then," he said, and glanced down at Shan. "Now, we must wake this sleepy one and take him within."
MASTER DAAV, THE stately individual who answered the door-summons informed Er Thom with precision, was in the Inner Court. If the Lord and Lady and Young Sir would follow, please?
They did, down a well-lit, wood-paneled hallway, footsteps muffled on bright, thick carpet, past closed doors with ancient china knobs set in the centers. Even Shan seemed awed, and kept close to Anne's side, his fingers clutching at hers.
Rounding a corner, they went down a slightly narrower hall that ended in a glass door. Their guide opened the door with a flourish and bowed them into the Inner Court.
Anne went three steps into the garden and stopped, blinking at the profusion of flowers and shrubs, the riot of bird song and the flutter of jewel-colored insects.
Er Thom continued across the silky grass, glancing this way and that among the unruly flowers.
"Well met, brother!" a cheery voice called from no particular direction.
Er Thom stopped, head tipped to one side. "Daav?"
"Who else? Had you a good trip?"
"Smooth and easy." Er Thom approached the monumental Tree, and lay his palm flat against the silvery trunk as he peered upward into the branches. "It is difficult to converse when I cannot see you."
"Easily solved. Climb yourself up."
"Might you not climb yourself down?" Er Thom inquired. "There are others present and matters that require your attention."
"Ah. You see how it is, brother: My manners have atrophied utterly in your absence."
"
Will
you climb down?" Er Thom demanded, a curious mix of laughter and frustration in his voice. Anne drifted closer, Shan silent and alert at her side.
"I will, indeed," said the Tree cheerfully. "Have a care, denubia, and stand away. It would not do for me to fall on you."
There was remarkably little movement among the silent broad leaves. When the lithe dark man dropped from the branches, it was as if he were part of a conjuror's trick:
Now you see him . . .
"So then." He grinned at Er Thom and opened his arms, heedless of the twig caught in his hair and the smear of green across one wide, white sleeve.
Without hesitation, Er Thom went forward and the two embraced, cheek to cheek.
"Welcome home, darling," the dark-haired man said, his words in Low Liaden carrying clearly to Anne. "You were missed."
The embrace ended and Er Thom stepped back, though his cha'leket kept a light hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing the new scar on the leather jacket.
"Perilous journey, pilot?"
"A tumble at the Port," Er Thom returned calmly. "Nothing to signify."
"Hah. But there are others present and matters that require my attention—or so recent rumor sings me! Lead on, brother; I am entirely at your disposal."
"Then you must come this way and make your bow to the guest," Er Thom told him, leading him the way across the grass to Anne.
He extended a hand on which the master trader's ring blazed and laid it lightly on her sleeve. "Anne," he murmured, switching to his accented, careful Terran, "here is my brother, Daav yos'Phelium, Delm Korval."
She smiled at the dark-haired man and bowed acknowledgement of the introduction. "I am happy to meet you, Daav yos'Phelium."
"Korval," Er Thom continued. "This is Anne Davis, Professor of Linguistics."
From beneath a pair of well-marked brows, bright dark eyes met hers, disconcertingly direct before he made his own bow.
"Professor Davis, I am delighted to meet you at last." His Terran bore a lighter accent than Er Thom's; his voice was deeper, almost grainy. He was a fraction taller, wiry rather than slim, with a face more foxy than elfin. A curiously twisted silver loop swung from his right earlobe and his dark brown hair fell, unrelieved by a single curl, an inch below his shoulders.
"And this . . . " Er Thom bent, touching Shan on the cheek with light fingertips. "Korval, I Show you Shan yos'Galan."
"So." Daav yos'Phelium moved, dropping lightly to his knees before the wide-eyed child. He held out a hand on which a wide band glittered, lush with enamel-work. "Good-day to you, Shan yos'Galan."
Shan tipped his head, considering the man before him for a long moment.
"Hi," he said at last, his usual greeting, and brought his free hand up to meet the one the man still patiently offered.
Wiry golden fingers closed around the small hand and Daav smiled. "Did you have a good trip, nephew?"
"OK," Shan told him, moving forward a half-step, his eyes on his uncle's face. Reluctantly, Anne relinquished her hold on his hand and he took another small step, so he was standing with his toes nearly touching the man's knees.
"Do you see sparkles?" he asked, abruptly.
"Alas," Daav answered, "I do not. Do
you
see sparkles?"
"Yes, but not the kind to touch. Mirada on hand has sparkles to touch." He bit his lip, looking earnestly into the man's face.
"You
happen
sparkles," he said plaintively. "Can't
see
sparkles?"
The well-marked brows pulled together. "Happen sparkles?" he murmured.
"He means 'make'," Anne explained. "You
make
sparkles."
"Ah, do I? I had no notion. Have you brought me a nascent wizard, denubia?" This last was apparently to Er Thom.
"Perhaps," that gentleman replied. "Perhaps a Healer. Or perhaps only one who has the gift of knowing when another is happy."
"Not too bad a gift, eh?" He smiled at Shan and then sent his brilliant black gaze to Anne's face.
"If Korval Sees this child, he is of the clan," he said, voice and eyes intently serious. "You understand this?"
Anne nodded. "Er Thom explained that it was—vital—for the delm to—count—a new yos'Galan."
"So? And did Er Thom also explain that what Korval acquires Korval does not relinquish? You have seen our shield."
"The dragon over the tree—yes." She hesitated, looked from his intent face to Er Thom's, equally intent. "Shan yos'Galan is my son," she said to him, voice excruciatingly even. "Whether he is—of—Clan Korval or not."
"Yes," Er Thom said, meeting her gaze straightly, hand half-lifting toward her. "How could it be otherwise?"
"Scholar." Daav yos'Phelium's voice brought her eyes back to his face, which was no less serious than it had been. "Scholar, if you are at all unsure—stand away. There is no dishonor in taking time to be certain."
She stared down at him where he knelt in the grass, holding her son by the hand. Leaf-stained as he was, with his fox-face and bold eyes, lean and tough as a dock-worker—He was beyond her experience: Half-wild and unknown; utterly, bewilderingly different than Er Thom, who was her friend and who—she
knew
—wished her well—and wished to do well for their son.
"It's what we came to do," she said slowly, voice cracking slightly. She shook her head, as much from a need to break that compelling black gaze as from a desire to deny—anything.
"Shan was to be shown to Delm Korval and then Er Thom could be easy again, and the clan not be—embarrassed—by there being a—rogue yos'Galan loose in the galaxy—one the delm hadn't counted. It was—my error," she explained, looking back to his face. "I—custom on my homeworld is to name the child with the father's surname in—respect. In—
acknowledgement
. I hadn't understood that there would be—complications for Er Thom when I followed my—my world's custom. Having made the error, it is—fitting—that I do what I can to put the error into—context—and repair any harm I may have done."
"Hah." For two long heartbeats, the bold eyes held hers, then he inclined his head.
"So it is done." He extended the hand that bore the broad enameled band and cupped Shan's cheek.
"Korval Sees Shan yos'Galan, child of Er Thom yos'Galan and Anne Davis," he announced. The High Liaden words rang like so many bells across the garden, startling the birds into silence. He bent forward and kissed Shan on the lips before taking his hand away.
"Welcome, Shan yos'Galan. The clan rejoices."
And that,
Anne thought, around a sudden and astonishing surge of joy,
is that. I hope Er Thom thinks it was worth all that worry.
Shan laughed and reached forward on tiptoe to pluck the leaf from his uncle's hair and hold it up for inspection.
"Flower."
"Leaf, I believe," Daav corrected gently. "Quite a nice one." He rose in a single fluid motion, one hand still holding the child and the other sweeping up in a extravagantly wide gesture.
"Thus, matters requiring my attention! Let us go within and have wine—and luncheon, too! For I do not scruple to tell you, brother, that you behold a man who is famished."
"No new sight," Er Thom replied calmly, stepping across to offer an arm to Anne and smiling up into her eyes. "Will you take wine and food before we go on to Trealla Fantrol, friend?"
The sense of joy was dizzying, exhilarating beyond reason, so that it was all she could do not to bend and kiss him, with full measure passion, on the lips. Only the understanding that it would not do—not here—kept her emotion in check.
So instead of kissing him, she smiled at him and slid her arm through his.
"Wine and food sounds delightful," she said warmly and allowed him to lead her into the house.
In an ally, considerations of house, clan, planet, race are insignificant beside two prime questions, which are:
1. Can he shoot?
2. Will he aim at your enemy?—Excerpted from Cantra yos'Phelium's Log Book
A LIGHT NUNCHEON had been called for, to be brought to the Small Parlor, to which they had repaired. Wine had been poured for each adult—Shan was given a small crystal cup half-filled with citrus punch—and tasted with all due ceremony.
Very shortly after, Er Thom excused himself to place a call to his parent, and left the room. Daav and Shan went to the window, where the man was apparently pointing out sections of shrubbery most likely to yield rabbits, if a boy were patient, and had sharp eyes.
Momentarily left to herself, Anne walked slowly around the room, sipping the slightly tart white wine and trying to absorb everything at once.
The rug—the rug was surely Kharsian wool, hand woven by a single family across several generations. She had seen a hologram of such a priceless treasure once and recognized the signature maroon and cobalt blue among the lesser colors, all skillfully blended to create a riotous garden of flowers, each bloom unique as a snowflake.