In her chair, the old lady stiffened. Anne caught the movement from the corner of an eye and half-turned in that direction, worry overcoming fun, and found Daav someway before her.
"Well, you know," he said, still in that tone of bogus gravity, "my aunt has been saying the same of me any time these ten years—have you not, Aunt Petrella?"
"Indeed," the old lady agreed, with, Anne thought, a touch of acid, though her parched face remained as bland as formerly. "It only remains to discover how to influence you to behave in concert with your finery." She shifted abruptly, signaling Er Thom with a wavering fingertip.
"Doubtless, the guest would welcome a glass of wine. Daav, I want you, if you please."
"Certainly," he murmured as Er Thom and the guest walked downroom toward the wine table, "it must always please me to obey you, Aunt Petrella. In the face of such pleasure it does seem churlish to observe that I would welcome a glass of wine, as well."
She merely stared at him, face composed, until she judged the others sufficiently well-embarked on their own conversation to care little of what was being said behind them.
"So," she said at last, meeting his eyes fully. "It comes to my attention that the delm now decides for yos'Galan."
Daav lifted an eyebrow. "I am desolate to be the first before you with the news—the delm decides for Korval."
"And you see nothing that might offend, that the delm should decide—for Korval!—before ever the Line has made decision. I see."
Petrella drew a hard breath, eyes wandering, then stopping where Er Thom stood with his—with yos'Galan's guest—sipping wine and gazing up into her face with such a look of admiration as must give pause—if not actual pain. She brought her attention forcibly back to Daav.
"It is understood," she said, though without any effort to soften her tone, "that the clan must not at this point in its history turn away any who are—never care how irregularly!—of the Line. That the one now offered is likely pilot and perhaps Healer must make him doubly advantageous to the clan. That he is the child of beloved kin must make him more than acceptable to yourself. All this is crystalline." She paused, considering his face, which was merely attentive, black eyes shadowed by long dark lashes.
"However," Petrella continued after a moment, "yos'Galan at present is engaged in a disciplinary matter of no small moment. Respect for authority must be taught in such a way as to leave an indelible impression upon the a'thodelm. It is no less than my duty to the delm, who must at all times be certain his directives
will be
obeyed. I do not know how it is come about that the a'thodelm has become so careless of obedience, but as head of his Line, the fault is mine to correct."
Daav bowed, slightly and gravely. "And young Shan?"
She sighed, fingers tightening on the arms of her chair.
"You will say I am cruel, to use a child as the whip which will humble his parent. But I very much fear, my Delm, that you have Seen a child for Korval who has no other home than—Korval."
"Hah. And this is your last word upon the matter?"
She moved her shoulders, fretfully. "If he learns his lesson well," she said, meaning Er Thom, "perhaps the child may be admitted—eventually. Certainly, the thodelm will do as he pleases, when I am dead. In the meanwhile, however, I will trouble the delm to arrange a fostering for this—Shan. yos'Galan will not have him here."
"Removal of the child at this time will likely distress the guest," Daav commented. "Unless that is also your intention?"
"The guest remains for a twelve-day," Petrella answered calmly. "It is understood that a proper fostering may take even as long as that to arrange. Scholar Davis need experience no grief from an untimely parting."
"You are kind," he observed, in such a tone of bitterness that she raised her eyes in surprise to his face.
His countenance was hidden from her, however, by reason of his bow, which was low and full of respect as always.
"By your leave, Aunt Petrella, I am now in desperate need of wine."
"Go, then," she snapped, pleased to have an excuse to be annoyed with him. "And send my son to me, do."
"TURNABOUT, DARLING!" Daav cried as he approached the couple tete-a-tete at the wine table. "You to your mother and I at long last to drink and fashion pretty compliments for the delectation of the guest!"
Er Thom turned, showing a tolerably composed face in which the violet eyes were heated far beyond the prettiest compliment. Anne Davis, her own eyes bright, ventured another of her delightful laughs.
"We've already dealt with the dress and the hair and the hands," she told him gaily. "You shall have to be inventive, sir!"
He smiled at her in appreciation. "But you see, I may admire your abilities in the High Tongue, which are as new to me as our acquaintance, and if Er Thom has not already been delighted with your manner before my aunt, I can only call him a dullard."
"I have never found Anne's manner other than a delight," Er Thom said calmly, while his eyes betrayed him and his brother wondered more and more.
"Best answer the summons quickly, you know," Daav said when a moment had passed and Er Thom made no move to go to his parent. "Try to comport yourself well. Scream, should the pain go beyond you, and I swear to mount a rescue."
Er Thom laughed his soft laugh and bowed gently to his companion. "My mother desires my presence, friend. Allow Daav to bear you company, do. I engage for him that he will not be entirely shatterbrained."
"Bold promises!" Daav countered and Anne laughed. Er Thom smiled faintly and went at last to wait upon his mother.
"Wine is what I believe I shall have," Daav announced, moving toward the table. "May I refresh your glass?"
"Thank you." She came alongside him and held out a goblet half-full of his aunt's best canary.
He shook the lace back from his hand, refilled her glass and took a new one for himself, into which he poured misravot. He had just replaced the decanter when the woman beside him spoke, in a very quiet tone.
"Delm Korval?"
He spun, startled by such an address
here,
when more proper solving would call for privacy and time and—
Her face showed confusion at his alacrity; indeed, she dropped back a step, fine eyes going wide as her free hand lifted in a gesture meant, perhaps, to ward him.
"Hah." Understanding came, as it often did to him, on a level more intuitive than thoughtful: She meant courtesy, that was all, and called him by the only title she knew for him. He inclined his head, face relaxing into a smile.
"Please," he said, going into Terran for the proper feel of friendly informality. "Let me be Daav, if you will. Delm Korval is for—formalities." He allowed his smile to widen, showing candor. "Truth told, Delm Korval is a tiresome fellow, always about some bit of business or another. I would be just as glad to be shut of him for an evening."
She smiled, distress evaporating. "Daav, then," she allowed, following him into Terran with just a shade of relief in her voice. "And I will be Anne, and not stodgy Professor Davis."
"Agreed," he said, bowing gallantly. "Though I must hold that I have not yet found Professor Davis stodgy. Indeed, a number of her theories are exciting in the extreme."
She tipped her head. "You're a linguist?"
"Ah, no, merely a captain specialist of the Scouts—retired, alas." He sipped his wine and did not yield to the strong temptation to look aside and see how Er Thom got on.
"My area of speciality was cultural genetics," he told Anne Davis, "but Scouts are all of us generalists, you know—and linguists on the most primitive level. We are taught to learn quickly and to the broad rule of a thumb—" She laughed, softly. "And, truly, there are several languages which I speak well enough to make myself plain to a native of the tongue, yet still could not make available to yourself." He sighed. "My skill as a lexicographer falls short, I fear."
"As does mine," she said. "I've been working forever on a translation guide between High Liaden and Standard Terran." She shook her head, though not, Daav thought, in order to deny anything, unless it was a point made in her own mind. "I'm beginning to think I'm barking up the wrong tree."
Daav took note of the idiom for future exploration. "Perhaps your time on Liad will enlighten you," he suggested.
"Maybe," she allowed, though without observable conviction. "It's just
frustrating
. With the back-language so—" She started, flashing him a conscious look.
"You don't want to hear me rant for hours about my work," she said, smiling and taking a nervous sip of wine. "Professors can bore the ears off of the most sympathetic listener—as my brother often tells me! It would be much safer, if we were to talk about you."
But he was saved from that bit of fancy dancing by the advent of Mr. pak'Ora, come to say that Prime meal awaited them in the dining room.
Wicked men obey from fear; good men, from love.—Aristotle
PRIME WENT OFF WITHOUT too much event, though Daav fancied he saw Er Thom once or twice hint Anne to the proper eating utensil. Still, there was no harm done, and the attention no more than a dutiful host might without offense offer to a guest of different manner.
Anne had apparently settled upon the more-or-less neutral mode of Adult-to-Adult for her conversation, a point of Code which Petrella was at first inclined to dispute. However, as neither of the remaining party found it beyond them to answer as they were addressed, Adult-to-Adult became the mode of the evening.
There were to have been cards afterwards, but as the guest had never used a Liaden deck, the play was a trifle ragged, and Petrella soon excused herself, pleading, so Daav thought, a not-entirely fictitious exhaustion.
As if this were her cue, Anne also announced an intention of retiring, turning aside Er Thom's offered escort by saying she wished to stop in the nursery for a few moments. Both ladies then quit the drawing room in the wake of Mr. pak'Ora.
And so the brothers were abruptly alone, trading bemused glances across the card table.
"Well," commented Daav, "and to think we shall live to tell the tale!"
Er Thom laughed. "Now I suppose you will make your excuses, as well."
"Nonsense, what would you do with yourself all the long evening if I were to be so craven?"
"There are several hundred invoices awaiting my attention," Er Thom replied with abrupt seriousness, "and a dozen memoranda from my first mate. The evening looks fair to overfull, never fear it."
"Hah. And I wishing to share a glass and a bit of chat . . . "
Er Thom smiled his slow, sweet smile. "As to that—a glass of wine and some talk would be very welcome, brother. The invoices quite terrify me."
"A confession, in fact! Very well—you see to the door, I shall see to the wine. I suppose you're drinking red?"
"Of your goodness." Er Thom was already across the room, pulling the door closed with a soft thud.
"None of my goodness at all, I assure you! The wine is from yos'Galan's cellars." He brought the two glasses back to the table and settled on the arm of a chair, watching as Er Thom gathered in the cards they had spread out for Anne's instruction.
Delm, Nadelm, Thodelm, A'thodelm, Master Trader, Ship, then the twelve common cards, until the three suits—red, blue and black—were all joined again. Absently, Er Thom tamped the deck and shuffled, fingers expert and quick among the gilded rectangles.
Daav sipped misravot. "Your mother my aunt appeared somewhat—fractious—this evening," he murmured, eyes on the lightning dance of the deck. "How did you find her earlier?"
The shuffle did not waver. "Less inclined to be courteous even than this evening," Er Thom said composedly. "She refused to acknowledge the child, which was not entirely unexpected, though—regrettable. I feel certain that, after she has had opportunity to meet Shan, she will—"
"Thodelm yos'Galan," Daav interrupted neutrally, "has requested that the delm arrange fostering for Shan yos'Galan, child of Korval alone."
The shuffle ended in a snap of golden fingers, imprisoning the deck entire. Daav looked up into his brother's face.
"He will come to me, of course," he said, and with utmost gentleness, for there was that in Er Thom's eyes which boded not much to the good.
"I am—grateful," Er Thom said, drawing a deep breath and putting the cards by. "I point out, however, that such an arrangement will most naturally—distress—Professor Davis."
"Yes, so I mentioned as well." Daav tipped his head slightly, eyes on his brother's set countenance. "Thodelm yos'Galan informs me that the guest remains for only a twelve-day."
"Thodelm yos'Galan is—alas—in error. There are—matters yet to be resolved—but I feel confident that Anne—Professor Davis—will be making a much longer stay."
"Oh, do you?" Daav blinked. "How much longer a stay, I wonder? And what is it to do with Anne—forgive me if I speak too plainly!—should Korval make what arrangements are deemed most suitable for one of its own?"
Er Thom glanced down, found his glass and picked it up. "It is not necessary," he told the sparkling red depths, "that my—our—child be—deprived—of association with his mother. They have been in the habit of spending many hours a day in each other's company. Even so small a separation as Shan's removal to the nursery has caused Anne—anxiety, though certainly he is old enough—" He seemed to catch himself, to shake himself, and brought his gaze up to meet Daav's fascinated eyes.
"My thodelm had suggested I might take a house in Solcintra," he said, with a calm that deceived his cha'leket not at all. "I believe that this course is, at present, wisest. Anne will be more at ease in—a smaller establishment—and may be free to pursue her business at the university. Mrs. Intassi shall continue to care for Shan—"
"And yourself?" Daav murmured.
"I? I should naturally live with my son and—and his mother. Anne is not—she is not up to line, you know, and depends upon me to advise her."