LC03 Shield's Lady Read online

  She poured the tea with a steady hand, refusing to let Etion’s warnings get to her. “I’ve decided to reapply to the academy, Etion.”

  “Nobody gets a second chance at the Academy of Business,” Etion said very softly. “No matter how well he does once he’s left Rendezvous. As far as the academy is concerned, failure to matriculate directly out of the university levels means it’s all over for you. Remember that, Sariana. Accept the fact that you’re here in Serendipity for good and learn to live your life as if this was home. Stop dreaming.”

  “My dreams are all that keep me from going crazy at times, Etion.” Sariana sipped her tea and gazed out across the square. “My dreams and your friendship.” Determined to change the subject, she indicated one small building across the street. “I think I know where the pastry chef got her ideas for decorating these little cakes. Look at that shop over there. Doesn’t the trim on the windows and roof look exactly like the trim on these cakes?”

  Etion hesitated and then gave up the lecture he had tried to deliver. His mouth curved as he followed her glance but his eyes were bleak. “You’re right. The chef probably looked out the window this morning when she was getting ready to decorate the cakes. Any westerner will tell you that artistic inspiration can come from any source.”

  Sariana’s gaze moved consideringly over the other buildings in the square. “I’ll have to admit that the local architecture was somewhat startling at first, but I think I’m almost getting used to it. There is a certain experimental zest to the local buildings and the design of towns. Oh, most of the time it looks overdone,” she added quickly. “Too much ornamentation. Too many flowing staircases, too many overwrought facades, too many grand galleries and gardens. But lately I’ve decided it all has a crazy kind of charm. Back home everything is designed to be functional and utilitarian and dignified. At least the local architecture is never dull.”

  Etion watched her face as he sipped his ale. “A people’s architecture reflect something of their nature. The same applies to clothing, I imagine.”

  I know, and I sometimes get exhausted just looking at all the incredible costumes as well as the amazing architecture,” Sariana said with a small laugh. “But at other times it occurs to me that Rendezvous could benefit from a small infusion of design from the western provinces.” Her eyes sparkled for an instant. “And the west could certainly learn something from us.”

  “It will be interesting to see where we all are in five or ten or twenty years,” Etion remarked.

  “Well, I for one plan to be back home in Rendezvous managing my clan’s trade interests,” Sariana said with conviction. “It’s what I was meant to do from the day I was born. What about you, Etion? Will you ever go home?”

  “It’s too late for me, Sariana,” he reminded her with soft bitterness. “I’ve told you that. I’m good at what I do, but nothing will ever make my clan or my business associates back in Rendezvous forget that financial scandal five years ago. I’m just damn lucky contact with the western provinces had been established by then or I would have had no place to run.”

  “I suppose I’m lucky, too,” Sariana mused. “A few years ago failure to matriculate to the academy would have been the end of the line for me. I would have had to accept a low level position within my own clan or marry into a less important business clan. Last year when everything collapsed around me I needed a place to run, also.”

  “The difference between us is that I’ve accepted my fate. You have yet to come to terms with yours.” Etion leaned forward with uncharacteristic intensity. “Remember, Sariana, when you finally do realize that it’s better to be a success here than a failure back home, I’ll be waiting. You and I have a lot in common. Our skills and training compliment each other perfectly. Together we could become very successful here in Serendipity. We would make a good team. Think about it.”

  Sariana sat very still. Etion’s words would have constituted a marriage proposal back home and they both knew it. She inclined her head in a formal, gracious response. “You honor me, Etion.”

  “Think about it,” he repeated. “That’s all I’m asking.” He sat back and picked up his mug. He smiled but his dark eyes remained curiously remote. “I know you have to satisfy yourself first. You have to find out if there is any way you can ever go back to Rendezvous on your own terms. I wasted my first three years here trying to find a way back. But while you search for your own magic ticket, think about the possibilities of a future here with me. We could accomplish a great deal together.”

  “Thank you, Etion,” Sariana said gently. “You are very kind.”

  He grinned unexpectedly. “I’m desperate. If you leave where will I find a sane, intelligent, rational woman with whom I can communicate?”

  Sariana laughed and changed the subject.

  Thirty minutes later Sariana finished her tea and smiled regretfully. “I must be getting back. I have to see how much further into bankruptcy Lady Avylyn is going to take the Clan with her plans for the ball. Thank you for the tea, Etion. You’ll never know how much I needed the break.” She got to her feet. “You will be coming to the Avylyns’ party, won’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. You’re sure the Avylyns’ won’t mind?”

  “Of course not. They’ve convinced everyone that having an eastern business manager and an association with a bank run by a financial genius from Rendezvous is very trendy.

  It puts them at the forefront of fashion and they love it. They’ve also hinted to everyone that it’s a brilliant financial maneuver. Their friends and rivals are all talking about hiring easterners, too. Who knows, Etion? We may be opening up new careers for all the academy rejects from our homeland.”

  “An interesting thought. The luck of the day to you, Sariana. I’ll see you at the ball.”

  “Luck to you, Etion, and thank you very much for your gracious proposal. I give you my word I will think about it.”

  “Do that, Sariana.”

  Sariana turned away with a last smile and found herself doing exactly as Etion had asked. She thought about his businesslike, practical and eminently rational proposal for a marriage alliance. He was right, she knew. If she was fated to be stranded in this strange land for the rest of her life, Etion would make a most suitable marriage partner for her. They had a great deal in common—including their exile.

  Strangely enough, she found herself more disturbed by Rakken’s proposal than she ought to have been. Not because accepting it would mean giving up on her dreams to go home, but precisely because it had been such a businesslike, practical and reasonable offer of marriage.

  It was ridiculous, but she found herself wishing there had been a little more emotion attached to Etion’s offer. She would like to have felt he wanted her for more personal reasons than because they had business interests in common.

  Sariana sighed. She had definitely been living in Serendipity too long if she was starting to think along such lines. Every young woman of a high ranking eastern clan in any social class knew that marriage was not a matter of emotion. It was first and foremost a business arrangement.

  Even as Sariana administered the brisk little lecture to herself the bright morning sky suddenly clouded over. Lightning flared and thunder rolled. The warm summer shower caught her three blocks from the Avylyns’ front door.

  Sariana shook her head philosophically as the rain drenched her hair and clothing. The shower was typical of life in Serendipity. Unpredictable.

  Gryph Chassyn closed the door of his new sleeping chamber and started down the long hall that led toward the central hub of the Avylyns’ villa. His new quarters were definitely a cut above his old ones which were located in a far less affluent part of town. He decided the fringe benefits of this new job were going to be pleasant.

  He wondered what Lady Sariana Dayne would say when she found out he had just been assigned a suite near her own apartments. Gryph had a
hunch she would not be pleased. Lucky for him Lord and Lady Avylyn were far more intimidated by a Shield than they were of their business manager. That morning Gryph had asked for the rooms and he had gotten them, no questions asked.

  He emerged from the long wing into the central hall of the villa just as a young blond-haired boy came racing into the hall from the workshop wing. Gryph didn’t need to see the boy’s dark eyes to know he was about to meet the Avylyns’ youngest son.

  Luri Avylyn was clutching a small cage of elaborately designed gold wire as he dashed across the wide, circular hall. His attention was focused on the small creature inside the cage and he almost collided with Gryph. Less than a meter away he came to an abrupt halt and automatically began a proper, if hasty, apology without looking up. He was too obviously fascinated by the contents of the cage.

  “Your pardon, sir, I was on my way into the guest wing. I didn’t see you.”

  “No harm done,” Gryph said easily. “What have you got in the cage?”

  Luri raised his head excitedly. “It’s a present for Lady Sariana. Do you know her?” Then his dark Avylyn eyes grew very wide as he realized who was standing in front of “You’re the Shield, aren’t you? Bryer said one had been hired to protect the jewelry that will be on display the night of the ball. I’m Luri.”

  Gryph nodded and crouched down in front of the boy to examine the cage. “The luck of the day to you, Luri. You say this is to be a present for Sariana? It’s a scarlet-toe, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right. Do you think she’ll like it? It took me days and days to catch one. I finally found this one in the gardens down by the river.”

  Luri held out the gold filigree cage. The small, brilliant red lizard inside blinked its scarlet eyes at Gryph.

  “That’s a very handsome scarlet-toe,” Gryph said as he admired the lizard. “Uh, do you happen to know whether or not Sariana likes lizards?”

  Luri shook his head impatiently. “She’s never had one. In fact, I don’t think she’s ever had any pets. The people of the eastern provinces are quite strange, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Gryph grinned at the boy.

  Luri automatically responded with a wide smile and then curiosity got the better of him. “Are you really a Shield?”

  “I’m a Shield in the same way that you are a Jeweler.”

  Luri’s chin lifted slightly with pride. “My specialty is going to be gemology. When I’m grown up I will be in charge of buying the uncut stones our craftsmen use in their work.”

  “Sounds like a good profession,” Gryph said seriously.

  “Bryer’s an expert in fine metals.”

  Gryph nodded as he studied the scarlet lizard.

  Luri shifted from one foot to the other, still clutching the cage carefully. His eyes darted down to the weapon kit attached to Gryph’s belt. Then he drew a deep breath and blurted out his next question.

  “Is it true that no one can open a Shield’s weapon kit except the Shield himself?”

  Gryph glanced up and saw the breathless fascination in the boy’s eyes. “That’s not quite true,” he explained quietly. “There is one other person who can open a Shield’s kit.”

  Luri’s dark eyes grew wider. “Who?”

  “A Shield’s lady can open the kit. She is the only other person on the face of the planet who can unseal the prisma lock.”

  “Do you have a lady?” Luri demanded.

  Gryph shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Are you going to get one?”

  “If my luck holds.”

  Luri chewed on his lower lip. “Are you sure you couldn’t teach me how to open the kit?”

  Gryph laughed and rose to his feet. He ruffled the boy’s bright blond hair with a friendly hand. “I’m afraid not.”

  “But if you can’t teach me or anyone else how to do it, how will you teach a wife?”

  “Every social class has its secrets, Luri. You know that. The way we teach our wives to open our weapon kits is a Shield secret.”

  Luri nodded seriously, well aware of the inviolable laws that protected such secrets. He sought for a way around the problem. “Can you show me what’s inside?”

  “Maybe,” Gryph said thoughtfully. “Maybe I will do that one of these days when the time is right.”

  “Why does the time have to be right?”

  “It just does. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” Luri considered his words and then decided to try another angle. “If you won’t show me what’s inside the weapon kit will you at least tell me some good tales of bandit fighting?”

  Gryph gave that some thought. “I suppose I’ve got time for a quick one. Do you know the story of Targyn and the cutthroats of the Cretlin Mountains?”

  “I’ve never heard that one. Who was Targyn?”

  “He was a very strong and clever Shield,” Gryph began with proper gravity. “He killed his first bandit when he was just a little older than you are.”

  “All by himself?”

  Gryph nodded. “So the story goes. At any rate, as the years went by he spent more and more time in the mountains hunting bandits who attacked the traders and miners who use the mountain passes. His name became a legend. The bandits got together one day and decided they had to find a way to get rid of him. Since Targyn almost always hunted alone, they figured they could lure him into a special dead end canyon and trap him there.”

  “Did it work? Was Targyn trapped?”

  “He let them think he was,” Gryph said. “But Targyn was very clever. Much too clever for the bandits.” He went on to explain exactly how Targyn had escaped the trap and lived to fight another day.

  “What finally happened to Targyn?” Luri asked breathlessly. “Is he still alive?”

  “No,” Gryph said soberly. “Targyn finally got himself killed up in the mountains. He took many bandits with him when he died, but in the end he was pushed off a high cliff. He fell into a deep mountain lake and was drowned. His body was never recovered.”

  Gryph decided not to mention the more mundane fact that many Shields had been privately relieved to learn that the valiant Targyn had met his end in a suitably noble fashion. Had he lived, it was felt, Targyn might have proved to be a problem. The man had not been completely sane. Gryph was more relieved than most when Targyn met his glorious end. He’d had a sneaking hunch that the Council of the Shields was seriously considering sending him out to get rid of Targyn. But there was no need to mess up the great legend Gryph was relating to Luri with that minor detail.

  “Tell me about his last battle,” Luri urged. But the boy’s plea was cut off as the grand doors of the main hall were opened by a household attendant in response to thundering chimes.

  A drenched Sariana stood on the doorstep, futilely trying to wring out the hem of her long narrow skirt. Her clothes were plastered to her, revealing the soft, gentle curves of her slender flame. She looked up apologetically as the attendant exclaimed in dismay and urged her into the hall.

  “My fault, Letta. I misjudged the weather again.”

  “My Lady, you’re drenched.” The stout, older woman fussed around Sariana, getting her inside and shutting the doors behind her. Then Letta turned to regard Sariana with an admonishing expression. “When will you learn that you must always take a rainscreen with you during the summer months in Serendipity? By the Lightstorm, just look at you. You’re soaked to the skin. You must go and change immediately.”

  “Yes, Letta, I think I’ll do exactly that.” Sariana started quickly across the wide hall, peeling off her tight jacket as she went. “You’d think I’d have learned my lesson about trusting the weather around here months ago,” she added just under her breath.

  Gryph heard the remark. “What’s the matter, Sariana?” he asked as she strode, dripping, toward where he stood with Luri. “Still having trouble with a few
of the local customs? Isn’t our weather tame enough for you?”

  “No, it is not,” Sariana snapped, clearly annoyed at finding him in her path. She glowered at him as she pushed wet hair back off her face. “Your weather is frequently as outrageous, unpredictable and contrary as—” She saw Luri and stopped talking immediately.

  “As the people who live here?” Gryph finished helpfully. “You’ll have to forgive us. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out exactly what an easterner wants, let alone what she needs.”

  He kept his voice pleasant so as not to upset Luri, but he knew Sariana was well aware of the expression in his eyes. He also knew it alarmed her slightly. He nodded, satisfied. At this point he would settle for making any impression at all on her, even if it wasn’t the best. She had been going out of her way to avoid him for the past two days. It irked Gryph, because he had made up his mind to be on his best behavior around her. She seemed determined not to give him any chance at all to impress her. It was impossible to court a woman who went down another hallway in order to avoid greeting him.

  “Don’t waste your valuable time trying to figure out what I want or what I need, Shield,” Sariana advised as she made to step around him. “We’re not paying you for that particular service. Speaking of your services,” she added firmly, “I will expect a progress report from you tomorrow morning. Meet me in my office after breakfast.”

  “You do have a way of putting a man in his place, Sariana,” Gryph made himself say smoothly.

  “Some men need to have their proper place explained to them. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to go to my rooms.” She glanced down and her voice softened miraculously. She broke into a dazzling smile. “Why, hello, Luri. What have you got there?”

  Luri thrust the golden cage toward her. “It’s a present for you, Sariana. A scarlet-toe lizard of your very own. It will keep you company at night.”