Convergence (59 page)

Being alone with his thoughts was just making things worse, so he wandered downstairs to see if his luck had changed and Jowi was also up and around. He'd promised to tell her about the problem he was having, but even more than that he wanted to discuss the idea of marriage. She seemed to think there was nothing wrong with the life she'd been leading, and he had to make her see the truth. As much as he wanted to take her in his arms, he couldn't get over the feeling that it was wrong.

At first the house seemed deserted, but then Tamrissa and her companion Warla came out of the library. They seemed to be discussing something about the house, which Warla must have been in charge of. Lorand had caught glimpses of Warla during the last couple of days, but the girl had always been hurrying to or from somewhere, or in the midst of speaking to the servants.' Lorand was about to leave them to the privacy they probably wanted, but Tamrissa saw him and smiled.

"Dom Coll, how nice to see another of us up and about," she said, almost echoing Lorand's thoughts. "If you'll give me a moment, we can share a cup of tea and chat until dinner is ready."

Lorand smiled and bowed his agreement, feeling courtly in his freshly cleaned new outfit. The pants and shirt were what he'd worn all day, but he'd gotten into the habit at home of coaxing his clothes to shed all dirt and even stains.

Cotton was the easiest fabric to work with since it responded as quickly after being drawn, spun, woven, cut, dyed and sewn, as it did in boll form. He felt less of a backwater hick in the new clothes, so he'd become determined to take very good care of them.

Tamrissa and Warla finished discussing whatever it was they'd been talking about, and Warla curtsied to them both before starting off on the run again, while Tamrissa began to walk toward him. Neither one of them took more than two or three steps, however, before someone knocked at the front door. Tamrissa stopped short with dread and fear flashing briefly across her face, but Warla veered toward the door with the obvious intention of answering it. Remembering what Jowi had told him about the trouble Tamrissa had been having with her parents, Lorand moved quickly to stand by her side. He was ready to handle anything—except for what the situation turned out to be.

"It's someone asking for yo
u,
Dom Coll," Warla said, turning at the door to look at him. "Shall I ask him in?"

Him?
Lorand thought even as he nodded his agreement. I don't know anyone in Gan Garee, but maybe it's Master Lugal, come to see how I'm doing. Guild men don't usually leave the area where they live and work, but maybe—

Lorand's mind stopped dead then, because his caller had shuffled through the door. Dirty and rumpled, unshaven and obviously hung over, uncomfortable and looking completely out of place, it was still, without any doubt—

"Hat," Lorand whispered,
then
he shouted, "Hat!" and ran to meet his lifelong friend, dragging him into a hug before pounding on his back. "Hat, you miserable excuse for a friend! I thought you were dead! Why didn't you let me know you were still alive to complain about things?"

"Because I didn't know where you were," Hat answered hoarsely, strangely stiff and standoffish, and then he forced a laugh. "They made the stupidest mistake during that test, you know. They miscalculated the amount of earth to drop on me, and because of that I passed out. When I woke up I was out of that room, but I was also being told to go home. Just
a Middle
, they said, you're nothing but a Middle. Go home and get a job you can handle."

Hat's familiar features had twisted into something ugly, a perfect match to what Lorand's insides felt like. Hat had been so determined to pass the test, to prove to the world that he was somebody. Being a working Middle wouldn't have made him
a somebody
with a big enough S, so he'd decided not to believe the testing people.

"But they were wrong, of course, because I'm much better than just a stinking Middle," Hat continued, swiping at his nose with one hand. "They gave me a coach ticket to get rid of me, to hide the fact that they'd made a mistake, but I'm no hayseed to be gotten rid of
that
easily. I'm staying right here in Gan Garee, where I can
prove
how wrong they were."

Hat's eyes were almost blazing now, but Lorand couldn't think of anything to say. How do you tell your best friend that his dreams had died so he might as well forget them? It would hurt Hat less to have a knife plunged into his chest, but Lorand wouldn't have been able to do that either. Maybe if he told Hat the true situation . . .

"I think I'd better tell you right now how lucky you really are," Lorand began, incredibly relieved that he'd thought of a way to help Hat. "This isn't anything like what we imagined it would be, and you're lucky to be out from under. You see—"

"Lucky?" Hat
barked,
that ugly look back on his face. "You're trying to tell me I'm lucky to have been cheated of what's mine? Look at those clothes you've got on, and look at this house! I've been sleeping in
alleyways,
you fool, and I haven't eaten since yesterday morning! Everybody in this city is a thief, stealing everything I had and then going after my blood! It wasn't as if I expected those dice games to be fair, but I
couldn't
have lost as much in them as they said! They cheated me when all I wanted was a good-enough
stake
to keep me alive until I proved the testing people were wrong! Even the silver I got from turning in the coach ticket is gone, so you've got to help me! I saw you in that carriage this morning and knew your driver from the neighborhood I've been sleeping in, and that's how I found you. Now you've got to help me, you've got to!"

"Hat, take it easy," Lorand tried to soothe, jumping into the tirade at the first opportunity. Hat was completely out of control, and the sight was painfully pitiable.

"Don't tell me to take it easy!" Hat tried to shout, but the hoarseness his voice had become refused to let it happen. "I just want to hear you say you'll help me! You owe it to me, Lor, you know you do. If you hadn't been there when I went to take the test, they wouldn't have stolen my place from me!

I figured out that they must have a quota, only one High applicant accepted at a time, and they took you because you're taller and better-looking. So you owe me plenty, and you'd better start paying up!"

"What kind of help do you want, Hat?" Lorand asked, trying to stay quiet and reasonable. "Would you like to join us for dinner? I'm sure there's enough for one more, and I can help you clean up while—"

"Excuse me, Dom Coll, but that won't be possible," Warla interrupted in little more than a whisper. Both women were still there, wearing expressions of pity, but Warla forced herself to go on. "Lady Eltrina was painfully clear on what we can and cannot do, and feeding or sheltering someone who hasn't been assigned here are two things we're forbidden. I might be able to put together some bread and cheese to be taken away, but—"

"You can keep your stinking bread and cheese!" Hat tried to shout at her, making the poor little thing flinch back. "I'll buy
real
food when he hands over all the silver he has left, which is probably more than he started with. You hear me, Lor? You run and get that silver, and then you can start thinking of the words you'll use when you tell your fancy friends that you're giving up your place to
me.
It should have been mine anyway, so they'll find they're getting a true bargain. Now—"

"Hat, stop it!" Lorand snapped, finally admitting that reason and patience would do nothing against Hat's delusions. "I have no silver left at all, and the idea that I can give up my place to you is ridiculous. I know how disappointed you are that you didn't pass the test, but telling yourself fairy tales won't change anything. There isn't any 'quota,' and I didn't steal your place. I know what Master Lugal told you before we left, so why are you doing this?"

"I wouldn't have believed it," Hat said slowly, staring at him as though he were lower than grub slime. "You're in with
them,
my best friend is hand in glove with the garbage who stole my place! Is that the deal you made with them, Lor? They'd give you new clothes and a great place to live, and you'd help them keep their mistake quiet? Have I finally gotten to the truth?"

"You'll have to make up your mind, Dom," Tamrissa put in, stepping closer to stand beside Lorand. "Either they made a mistake, or they had a quota. If you're going to lie to yourself, you ought to keep the lies straight. But you know as well as we do that Dom Coll had nothing to do with your failure to pass the test. You managed that all on your own, and now I'd like you to leave my house the same way."

"You're all trying to confuse me, but it won't work," Hat said, shaking his head, and Lorand finally noticed that the man was more drunk than hung over. He would have removed the alcohol if he could have, but even Middle strength in their shared aspect was enough to let Hat keep himself from being touched in that way.

"No, trying to confuse me won't work because I know the truth," Hat continued, and then his expression crumpled. "But you
have
to give me the silver,
Lor,
they said they'll kill me if I don't get it! They cheated me and robbed me, and now they're threatening to kill me! If you don't give it to me, there's no place else to get it!"

"Maybe
he
doesn't know any better than that, but I do," Tamrissa put in again while Lorand stood wrapped in sudden guilt. Hat needed money, but he didn't have any to give! "If you're a certified Middle in Earth magic, you can get a job just by asking for it. There are always streets that need to be recobbled, lawns that need to have weeds Discouraged, pets and working animals that need to be coaxed and—"

"No!" Hat interrupted as sharply as his hoarseness allowed. "That's scut work, and I refuse to do scut work! I'm a High, not some crummy Middle, so why should I lower myself? Lor will give me the silver, and then I'll—"

"Hat, I don't have it!" Lorand interrupted in turn, now more disgusted than pitying. "They made sure we don't have money, so we have to do everything their way. Is that what you're jealous of, not being in a position where other people have the say over your entire life? What happened to the common sense you used to have?"

"You won't do it?" Hat said, obviously hearing nothing but what he wanted to. "You won't part with some lousy silver even to save my life? Something told me it would be that way, but I refused to believe it until it happened. Now I
have
to believe it, but there's something for you to believe as well: I'll get even for this if it's the last thing I ever do. Enjoy your silver and your clothes and your fancy house, because you won't have them for as long as you think."

"Hat, don't do this," Lorand began, but the other man was lurching toward the door and then out into the night. Warla closed the door gently behind him before hurrying away, and Tamrissa put a commiserating hand to his arm.

"In spite of everything you're probably still worrying about him, but you shouldn't," she said in a gentle voice. "He lied about everything including his life being in
danger, that
I can assure you. We once had a servant who came by with the same story concerning a gambling debt, but my husband refused to give him an advance on his wages. I fully expected the man to be killed, but his creditors just had him beaten up. Not badly enough to keep him from working, but badly enough for him to hurt while he did. The point, I was told, was that dead men can't pay up on what they owe."

"I wonder if that applies to men who
refuse
to work," Lorand said, sending her a brief smile of thanks. "But in any event, I appreciate the help you tried to give. Maybe if he hadn't been drunk, what you said might have done some good."

"I doubt it," Tamrissa replied, wrinkling her nose. "I can understand being horribly disappointed, but I can't understand passing up a chance to make things even a little better. He found it easier to blame
you
for his troubles than to do something about them, which means he doesn't deserve the least amount of sympathy. But at least we learned something: if you can't pass the test, they don't really let you die."

"We don't know that for certain," Lorand warned her, using the new topic to get the bad taste of his former friend out of his mouth. "He said he was told he was a Middle, which means he wasn't a legitimate candidate for High. If actual potential Highs are also saved and sent home, we either ought to know of some, or this city should be crawling with them."

"Well, I don't know any, and the city isn't crawling with them," she answered with a sigh. "That brings us back to where we were, but you may not know yet where that is. Jowi and I have been discussing some things, and we've come up with certain guesses and decisions."