The Gandalara Cycle I (28 page)

"Thank you for bringing hack those happy memories, young man. I want to say that I have no fault to find with you - you've done a great thing for our family, and I'm grateful. But I - will Markasset - is he -?"

"I don't know, Milda," I said gently. "I don't understand what has happened; it might
un
happen at any time and it might not.

"But I want you to believe something. I know how much Markasset loved you, and I love you, too."

"Th-thank you," she said in a shaking voice. I released her hands and she turned her face to Thanasset's shoulder. "What did happen?" Zaddorn asked.

I shrugged. "I woke up out in the desert with a lump on my head. Everything I know about Markasset ì except, as I said, a few scattered memories - I've learned since then."

"So you don't have the answers either?"

"No. I can't remember anything about the night the caravan left, or the night Gharlas disappeared. I can't even remember what Gharlas looks like!"

"And were you," Zaddorn asked in a low, tight voice. "Going to marry Illia in Markasset's place?"

"I felt an obligation to complete Markasset's life, since I had somehow borrowed his body. That included keeping his promises."

I walked back over to Illia, who was looking wildly from me to Zaddorn.

"But it's different, now, dear," I told her. "I expected to have to hide behind Markasset when we talked in the garden that day. It's really better this way. I'd like to think that I'd have told you before the wedding, anyway, to give you a fair choice. Let's just leave things for a while so you can get to know the person I really am. And take my advice - give Zaddorn another chance, too. We've been through a lot together these past few days. He's a man I'd trust my back to."

"I oh, I'm so confused!" she wailed. She looked at Zaddorn steadily for a moment, and then turned her dark eyes up to mine. "In the garden that day, and just now - it was
you
kissing me, not Markasset, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I'll admit I appreciate Markasset's taste and maybe I took advantage just a little. But I don't
know
you yet, and you don't know me. Give it some time. Please."

"Yes," she said at last. "All right.”

"Thank you," Zaddorn said, and came toward us, holding out his right hand. "This is your custom, but it's one I like. Welcome to Raithskar, Rikardon." I took his hand gratefully. "I hold nothing of Markasset against you," he said. "And for what it's worth, I think you'll be rougher competition than he was." He glanced at Illia, who lowered her eyes in sudden embarrassment. "But I'll be trying harder."

"Friends," Thanasset drew our attention to him. He came over to me and put an arm around my shoulders. "I'm glad that there is no need of deception among us any longer. I have known about Rikardon since the day he returned to Raithskar from the desert. I saw no need to warn you. Milda," he added.

"I regret the loss of my son," he said, and had to pause for a second or two. "But in Rikardon I have found qualities Markasset lacked: steadiness, confidence, a strong feeling for what is right and the conviction to stand by it. Whatever brought him here, he awoke into a mess not of his own making. He accepted and fulfilled Markasset's obligations.

"We cannot tell if Markasset will ever be returned to us; we must accept Rikardon in his place." He walked over to the portrait of the sha'um, stretched up and brought down the sword of Serkajon. I realized, suddenly, what he was going to do. I would have objected if my voice had worked but I was trying to swallow a tennis ball. He faced me, holding the long, gleaming sword across his body. It had been recently polished.

"Rikardon, few men of our family have carried the Steel of Serkajon. It has been the tradition for father to judge son; I found Markasset lacking, a fact which did nothing to draw us together. But I must change that judgment now." He offered me the hilt of the sword.

"Please accept from my hands not only the great sword of Serkajon, but the love and respect I would feel for Markasset, could he be here. Whatever he might have asked of me is now yours."

There were a lot of things I wanted to say. I looked at Thanasset and I knew
he
understood. I could explain to the others later, when that tennis ball finally moved.

I gripped the hilt of the sword and lifted it from Thanasset's hands.

I felt a strange sensation, like the jarring crawl of an electric shock, but without any pain. There was a sweep of images through my mind, so swift and varied that I felt myself reeling.

Thanasset was there, as a younger man, riding the sha'um whose portrait decorated the wall. Laughing. And Milda, too, was younger, softly sad over the death of a man she had loved.

She changed into Gra'mama Maria Constanza, who patted my hand and dried my tears over a torn book page. And there was Julie, the first time we were together - sweet and wonderful. The war marched by and there she was again, weeping in shame because she hadn't had the strength to wait for me. I kissed her and shook her husband's hand and walked away. . . .

Illia was there, near me, naked, eager. Zaddorn, a boy, losing a sword trial to me. Illia was watching, Zaddorn was angry, I was laughing.

Two lives paraded through my mind and mingled. A wall had dissolved and the stacked-up contents of two rooms crashed together and bounced around.

Ricardo's life moved quickly through. School, reserves, students, summers, women . . . the doctor . . . the meteor. I viewed them lightly, as though I were watching an old movie so familiar that I could quote the next line at any given time. I tried to cling to Markasset's memories, to absorb them, make them part of me. But they, too, slipped by, one by one, giving me barely time enough to recognize the people in the images. I learned to let them go easily, sure now that I could call them back when I wished. I lived through Markasset's life up to a night not long past .. .

Then I remembered the night the Ra'ira was stolen.

"It's only seven hundred zaks, Father!" I pleaded desperately, hating him because I knew he was right. "I promise it’s the last time, and pay it back."

"How?" he demanded. "You've applied yourself to the mondea tables, but to nothing else. You might have been a scholar, a teacher, an administrator. You might have learned a craft. Never mind this debt; how will you support Keeshah after I'm gone? Will you go and live in the wilds and share the game he kills?"

"Don't start that old argument up again," I warned him. "We're talking about a single debt - my last gambling debt. I'll find a way to pay it back. But Worfit wants his money. Father. And I do owe it to him."

"Now you've hit the right word." he said grimly. -You owe it to him. So
you
pay him."

"It's the last time!" I repeated again, appalled that he didn't believe me. I meant it. I'd never made that promise before: I meant it now. Why wouldn't he believe me?

"It's one time too often!"

I left, then, slamming the back door hard enough. I hoped to break the latticed glass panel. I sat with Keeshah in his house, rubbing his stomach and thinking.

Father was right about one thing: I had no way to earn that money myself.

Or had I?

"I do have one skill," I told Keeshah. He looked at me with one eye still closed and told me to keep rubbing. "I can fight. I'll hire on as a caravan guard."

The more I thought of it, the better it sounded. It would get me out of Raithskar and out of Worfit's reach for a while. If the caravan went far enough, and was rich enough, and if I caught another caravan back, I could pay Worfit off completely. That would show the old man I could pay my own debts, make my own way.

And the promise was still good, I decided. I'd never gamble again. I didn't have a hope in the world of becoming a Supervisor until I quit the rogue world and really tried to study city administration. And I'd been letting Illia think that Dad would put me up for it next opening, which would probably be when Ferrathyn fell over at last. So -when I got back from wherever it was, NO MORE GAMBLING.

I gave Keeshah's chest a final scratch and headed for the marketplace. On the way I revised the plan a little. I had been going to hire out me
and
Keeshah, then find Worfit and tell him what I'd done, promise him his money as soon as I got back. But I had a better idea - I'd hire on as a footguard, and use a phony name. Nobody'd get hurt; Worfit would get his money; and meanwhile, Markasset would just mysteriously disappear. The only bad thing was not riding Keeshah but he could follow the caravan, and I could see him every night. He wouldn't like it, but he'd do it.

I was in luck when I reached the marketplace. A big caravan, owned by a man named Gharlas, was leaving the next morning and going all the way to Eddarta. I hadn't really wanted to go that far; the little man with only four fingers on his left hand said if I'd go as far as Chizan that would get the caravan past the raiding territory of the Sharith. They didn't expect trouble; they'd paid their duty on the way in; but it didn't hurt to be extra careful. If I wanted the job, I had it.

I took it.

It was dark by then. I thought about going home. Father would still be there, since he wouldn't go on duty tonight until day end. I thought I should tell him I was going, and then decided just to let him worry. It was his fault I had to go. But if I went home, we'd only argue again.

So I went to say goodbye to Illia.

She came to the second-floor window when the pebbles hit it. "I can't come out now, Markasset!" she whispered.”Mama's in the front room; she'd see me and we'd fuss over me going out this late."

"Jump down from there," I told her. "That slim waist of yours will fit through. I'll catch you."

There wasn't much light except what fell from her room. She stared down, deciding. "Are you sure you can catch me?"

"Yes, you don't weigh anything! Jump!"

"All right," she said, a little breathlessly. "Here I come!"

And she jumped. I felt a twisting in my chest. Illia believed in me completely. If I said I could do a thing, I could do U. She trusted me.

She nearly pulled my arms off when I caught her, but I kept on my feet. I could tell I had impressed her but for once I didn't care about that. I had realized, for the first time how good it felt to be trusted.

"Put me down," she said, but I kissed her instead. She was wearing her sleeping shift, and her body was soft and warm underneath it. Her breathing quickened to match mine and I carried her out into her father's garden. There was a place, near the bath-house, that was blocked from the house but open to the sky. The song of the Skarkel Falls seemed especially beautiful right there.

We had made that place our own. That's where I took her to say goodbye.

“You really ought to tell your father where you're going." Illia said later. "He'll worry something fierce

"You're right,"I said. "But if I see him again. I’ll only yell at each other over this. too.-

"Write him a note," she suggested. "I'll take it to him tomorrow." Her parents had gone to sleep by then, not even missing their daughter. She went quietly into the house, brought out brush and parchment, and I did write a note. "Leaving this morning on caravan to earn money for Worfit. Back when I get here. M

“That's not much of a note," she said when she read it.

"It's all he'll get. Listen - I'm going to miss you”

“I’ll miss you, too, Markasset. Terribly. Hurry back."

"When I get back, you'll see, love. I’ll dig in. And be ready to be a Supervisor in no time. And then -"

“Yes?"

"Will you marry me, Illia! After I'm a Supervisor?"

“You know I will."

When I left her, it was less than an hour before dawn, the time set for the caravan to depart. I realized that I hadn't planned things too well - I had no extra clothes, and no money to buy extra food for Keeshah on the off chance that he couldn't find game in the hills while we crawled across the desert at vlek pace.

So I stopped by Dad's office. It was closer than going home, and he had never objected when I used my own key to the drawer where he kept extra money. That is, he hadn't started to complain until I started gambling against money not yet in hand, and began losing. He had forbidden my use of that money, but hadn't asked for my key back.

Well, this wasn't for gambling, so I went into the building and up the stairs to Dad's office. He would be in the security room now; it was some four hours into his scheduled shift. I unlocked the drawer - and found five twenty-dozak pieces.

It was the money Dad had had at home, in the wall niche. He had brought it down here and locked it up - why? Because he knew I knew there was never much money here. And he also knew I knew he had that money at home. He had been afraid I'd
steal
the money from him to pay Worfit!

If that was all he thought of me, so be it!

I reached in and took the money. I'd pay off Worfit before I left, I'd take the rest for travel expenses, and I'd come back when I was good and ready, not before. I'd come back to

I threw the key down on top of the desk; I wouldn't be needing it again.

I went to Worfit's largest gaming house, where he usually spent his dust-to-dawn office hours. Marnen, his one-eyed assistant, told me that Zaddorn had ordered Worfit's testament about a disturbance in another of his houses the night before - a "scuffle" that had resulted in two dead men.

"I can't wait," I told Marnen. "Tell Worfit that I've got his money, but I have to leave town for a while. As soon as I get back, I'll pay him what I owe him."