Mouse and Dragon (20 page)

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Authors: Sharon Lee,Steve Miller

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BOOK: Mouse and Dragon
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"Certainly," he said, his fingers touching the keys set into the desktop. "Your name, please?"

"Aelliana Caylon."

The young man's busy fingers paused.

"Ah . . ."

"I understand that there is a great deal of demand upon his time," Aelliana began—and paused when he raised his hand.

"Pray forgive me, Pilot Caylon. I will inform Mr. dea'Gauss of your presence. Please, allow Ms. pen'Dela to guide you to one of the private parlors."

He must have touched a key, for here came a young woman who scarcely looked past halfling, dressed in sober business clothes, her face formal, and her bow precise.

"Pilot Caylon, please. Follow me."

"I—" Aelliana looked back to the young man at the desk. "Pray do not call Mr. dea'Gauss from his duties for me. Indeed, you are quite correct; I ought to come at his convenience."

The young man inclined his head.

"My instructions are that Mr. dea'Gauss will see Aelliana Caylon," he said.

"If the pilot will come?" Ms. pen'Dela added in a sweet, high voice.

Aelliana bit her lip, then inclined her head and followed the young lady down the hallway and into a small, graciously appointed parlor.

"There is tea," her guide said, showing her the buffet laid with cups and a small plate of pastries. "If you would prefer wine . . ."

"Thank you, tea is all that I require," Aelliana said hastily.

Ms. pen'Dela bowed.

"Certainly, Pilot. Mr. dea'Gauss should be with you very soon. In the meanwhile, if there is anything at all that you require, only press this button—" She placed her hand briefly next to the button in question, discreetly set into the top of the buffet. "—and someone will come."

"Thank you," Aelliana said again. "I am quite content."

Her guide bowed and departed. A curtain woven with the sign of the Accountants Guild fell across the doorway, granting privacy as Aelliana sank into one of the soft chairs grouped agreeably about a small table.

She took a breath, straightened her spine, placed the envelope on her lap, and folded her hands atop it. Mr dea'Gauss had been very kind to her during their previous meeting, she told herself. She would explain her error, and beg his pardon—surely he would accept that? Then, she would make a proper appointment, and—

The curtain across the doorway parted to admit a man of very erect posture, wearing a bronze vest over dark shirt and trousers.

Aelliana came to her feet and bowed low.

"Mr. dea'Gauss, please forgive this unseemly intrusion into your day."

There was a pause, growing rather longer than courtesy permitted. She straightened, and met a pair of speculative brown eyes.

"You do not intrude, my lady," he said, his voice soothing in the mode of servant to lord. "I see that you have the transfer packet. Please, allow me to take you to my office. We may speak confidentially there."

Aelliana swallowed. Well, and if he would see her, she thought, then he would. She would try to keep her requests and her questions to the point and disrupt him as little as possible.

"Thank you," she said, and took the arm that he offered.

"Only a step down the hall," he murmured, keeping yet to that mistaken mode, "and a short ride on the lift. It is a fine day, and the views from the windows are quite pleasant."

 

It was, Aelliana admitted some time later, a worthy view: Most of Solcintra City could be seen from the windows of Mr. dea'Gauss' office, an orderly gridwork of architecture and parkland. Indeed, if one took the right angle, one could see the Tower in Solcintra Port, nearly colorless against the bright sky.

"From the rear windows one may see Korval's Tree." Mr. dea'Gauss gestured toward an panel of opaqued windows. "Alas, this is not the best hour for such a viewing." He inclined his head, and continued, somewhat more briskly, "Now, my lady, what task may I be honored to perform for you?"

She hesitated. It was an impertinence to call another adult's understanding of
melant'i
into question. However, it was . . . dishonorable to claim a place higher than where one stood.

"I fear that, in my ignorance, I may have misled you, sir," she said carefully in adult-to-adult. "I am the second daughter of the House, and Mizel—Mizel does not stand High. Scholar will do for me, or Pilot; each is a
melant'i
that I hold in my own right. I have, for a variety of reasons, accepted the protection of Clan Korval." She raised her hand to touch the pin in the collar of her jacket. "But I am not
of
Clan Korval."

"I see." Mr. dea'Gauss tipped his head, and moved a hand, indicating that she walk with him to the table where she had left the envelope. "Perhaps, then, Pilot," he said in adult-to-adult, "we ought to discuss your
melant'i
more fully. But first—" He used his chin to point at the worktable—"you have some questions regarding the transfer paperwork?"

"Yes," she said, pausing by a chair to allow him to seat himself first, as was appropriate, given their relative ranks. "And also, I have a—task for you, if you are willing to undertake it. Understand, I have no good idea of how much work is involved, so you must not hold shy of telling me if it will not do."

"That I will not, Pilot," he said calmly. He paused, and appeared to consider her for a moment before bowing slightly. "Allow me to fetch tea," he said smoothly. "Pray, make yourself at ease; I will not be a moment."

He moved toward the back corner of the room, where a buffet like the one in the reception parlor stood. Aelliana sat down, folded her hands on the tabletop, and glanced about.

Mr. dea'Gauss stood high, indeed, she thought, to have gained the right to such an office. A working desk holding three screens and several piles of hard copy occupied a windowed niche on the left-hand wall; the table at which she sat was one of three such placed about the room. The floor was old wood, with bright carpets here and there, like flowering islands adrift upon a dark sea.

"Now, we may talk comfortably," Mr. dea'Gauss said, setting a tray on the table. He poured for them, deft and neat, before taking the chair at her left hand.

"Where shall we begin, Pilot? I am wholly at your disposal."

He did certainly seem to be so, Aelliana acknowledged. She sipped her tea—and sipped again in appreciation—before putting the cup aside.

"The task for which I would like to commission your consideration," she said carefully, "is . . ." She leaned forward, looking directly into his face.

"I own a Class A Jump—
Ride the Luck
—which is berthed at Binjali's Yard. It is—my intention to enter the lists as a courier pilot. I understand that there is paperwork—licenses to obtain, guarantees to be posted—in order to best serve and protect ship and crew along the . . . beyond Liaden space."

"You wish me to bring that paperwork together for you? That is perfectly within my scope, Pilot." He reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a notepad. Tapping the device on, he glanced at her. "A few questions, if you will."

"Certainly."

"Good—when do you propose to put your ship to work beyond Liad?"

"As soon as may be," she answered. "Much depends upon my copilot, who has some matters to put in order before he is cleared to fly."

Mr. dea'Gauss tapped a note onto the pad. "What is your copilot's name?"

"Daav yos'Phelium Clan Korval."

She thought his fingers missed a beat; if so, he recovered so rapidly that she could not be entirely certain.

"Of course. I have Pilot yos'Phelium's particulars on file, so there is no need for you to detail those.
Ride the Luck
is of course registered with the Guild?"

"Yes. I had only just thought! Will you need ship's archives?"

"Ship's archives are not required, though I have found that it is beneficial to include them as part of the supporting documentation," Mr. dea'Gauss murmured, his attention on his notes.

"I will transmit them to you this afternoon," Aelliana promised.

He glanced up. "You need not discommode yourself, my Lady. As the archive is in support only, its presence is not necessary for the completion of the primary documentation."

"It is no trouble at all," she said. "I will be taking
The Luck
to Chonselta this afternoon."

"In that wise, I will be pleased to have all necessary information immediately in hand," he murmured and looked up. "I anticipate that the completed and certified documents will be in your hands no later than Banim Third-day."

Aelliana blinked. "That's very soon."

"As a task, it is not difficult. There may be some delay upon the Guild's side, though we will of course do everything possible to expedite the matter."

He put his notepad on the table and gave her his whole attention once more. "I think we have this task well in hand, Pilot. What else may I be honored to do for you?"

She placed her hand on the envelope.

"I wonder if you are . . . able . . . to explain to me why I am awarded this—considerable!—settlement. Daav owes me nothing—it is I who owe him, more than ever I can hope to Balance."

Mr. dea'Gauss glanced down, perhaps at the envelope; perhaps at the Jump pilot's ring on her finger, then raised his eyes to hers.

"His lordship allowed me to know of the bond between you," he said slowly. "In . . . more regular circumstances, that bond would predicate a . . . social outcome."

"As it did with Anne and Lord yos'Galan."

"Precisely." Mr. dea'Gauss placed his fingers lightly on the edge of the envelope.

"Precisely," he said again, and paused, as if gathering his thoughts.

"His lordship," he said after a moment, "chose to honor the bond as if it is the social outcome, realizing that this may never come to pass. It is . . . an unusual
melant'i
, as he himself said, and one may therefore too easily err in proper action. One wishes to place honor—one wishes to place
regard
correctly, and to rightly value what is precious. His solution . . . I have spent many hours considering his lordship's solution, and I cannot find it in error, my lady, nor say that I might have counseled him differently."

The envelope was textured and tickled her palm. Aelliana took a breath.

"This is a lifemate's share."

"It is."

She closed her eyes, opened them and considered the man before her with his practical face and canny eyes.

"Mr. dea'Gauss, Daav and I are indeed lifemates-by-nature, as he told you. However, it is by—it is by no means certain that we can, or ought to be, lifemates-by-law. It is—I had hoped that this joint endeavor we undertake would clarify that point. You will know, sir, that Mizel is by no means High House. I would not damage Korval through my ignorance, nor would I make Daav vulnerable."

He inclined his head, but said nothing, apparently waiting for her to continue, though what else she might say—

But, no, there was something else, after all, to say.

She pushed the envelope to him and lifted her hand away.

"Please, hold these safe until I call upon you in order to sign them, or ask that you destroy them."

Again, he inclined his head, and Aelliana bethought herself of yet another question.

"In your judgment—ought I to make Daav half owner of
The Luck
?"

"My lady, you ought not," he replied promptly. "He is your copilot, and I believe you will find that satisfies him very well."

"Thank you," she said, and hesitated, for surely the question that next rose to her tongue was no concern of hers . . . 

"Is there something else, my lady?"

"I only wonder," she said slowly. "This . . . employment as
Ride the Luck
's copilot will mean that Daav will sometimes be . . . unavailable to Delm Korval and the business of the clan."

"That had mostwise been the case with Korval's delms until very recently," Mr. dea'Gauss said. "This firm has protocols in place to handle much of what Korval has been addressing personally. Korval's presence will naturally be required at the bi-annual meetings of the Council of Clans, but a good deal of the . . . lesser business may be handled by a designated speaker."

She frowned. "Does he—know this?" she asked, thinking of the sense of weariness and ill health that she had felt in him, bone-deep.

"It is my
melant'i
to assume that Korval is informed," Mr. dea'Gauss said delicately. "The conditions under which we currently operate are by instruction of Thodelm yos'Galan, acting as
Korval-pernard'i
, in the aftermath of the tragedy that cost Korval its delm and yos'Galan its a'thodelm. The instructions were never rescinded."

"I see," she said, and inclined her head. "Mr. dea'Gauss, I thank you for the gift of your time—and for your assistance."

"You are most welcome, my lady. Please consider me entirely at your disposal."

"You're very kind," she said and stood, Mr. dea'Gauss rising with her.

"There is," she said, suddenly recalling, "one more thing." She touched the collar of the shirt she was wearing, one of several purchased from Anne's favorite store.

"You will, I think, be receiving an invoice from the Crystal Flower. Please forward it to me when it arrives; it is my debt and I will pay it."

Mr. dea'Gauss bowed.

"Certainly, my lady."

 

Chapter Seventeen

A room without books is like a body without a soul.

Cicero
 

Er Thom was in his office. Good.

Daav pushed the door open gently, pausing just inside the room to consider his brother, who had for so long been the first tenant of his heart. He made a charming sight, to be sure, with his head bent studiously over his work, and the light from the lamp making golden hair luster.

"You might be of some use, and pour the wine," Er Thom said, without raising his head. "I'll be through here in a moment."

Grinning, Daav crossed to the cabinet, unshipped glasses, and poured—red for Er Thom, and the same for himself, there being no
misravot
on offer.

"You stint me," he said, carrying the glasses to the table and disposing them.

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