Without a Front (35 page)

“Then let go.”

“And have my family sense this? No, thank you.”

Tal kissed her cheekbone ridge from temple to cheek. “In that case,” she murmured between kisses, “I'll get back to my examination.”

“Is this what any instructor would do?”

“I am not any instructor.”

“Thank Fahla for that.” Salomen turned her head and met her lips with a passion that soon released everything Tal had been so carefully controlling. For a glorious few pipticks they sank into their bond, too deeply and too quickly. Neither had time to pull back before the flash slammed into them.

“Shek!” Tal sat back in her seat, frustrated and breathing hard as she waited for the tingles to subside and her sight to clear. Salomen's laughter didn't help. “What could possibly be so amusing?”

“This! It's like a curse. The more I want you, the more I can't have you. I'm beginning to think you were right about this being Fahla's idea of a joke.”

“I'd have preferred to be dead wrong.” Tal was a little grumpy after the jolt to her libido.

“No, you had it figured out from the beginning. I think this is how she makes eternity a little more interesting for herself. How boring must it be otherwise?”

“Good question. Well, if our lives must be thrown into chaos and our greatest desires dangled in front of us like forbidden treasures, at least we know that we're entertaining Fahla.”

In the ensuing silence, she looked over to see Salomen smiling at her. Warm pleasure flooded her senses as Salomen dropped her front.

“That was a fine compliment. All the more so because I'm certain you didn't realize what you were saying.”

Tal held out her hand in invitation. Closing her fingers around Salomen's, she said, “It was not a compliment. That was my truth.”

“Which is precisely what makes it a compliment. I don't confuse truth with flattery.” Salomen squeezed her hand. “Thank you for tonight, Andira. I truly enjoyed your company. And I wish it didn't have to end here, but…”

“I know. May I at least walk you to your room?”

“Given that it's on the way to yours, yes, I'd be delighted.”

Varsi brought her fists to her chest and bowed as they mounted the steps. “Lancer Tal, Raiz Opah, I hope you had an enjoyable evening.”

“We did, thank you. Good night, Varsi.” Tal moved forward, but Salomen had stopped.

“Guard Varsi, I understand that you gave the Lancer some advice regarding my brother.”

Instantly nervous, Varsi nevertheless stood straight and answered crisply, “Not advice, Raiz Opah. Just what I saw.”

Salomen nodded. “You saw something I did not. I appreciate your concern and your words. Thank you.” She reached out for Tal's hand and led her toward the door, missing the expression of surprise on Varsi's face.

“You're welcome, Raiz Opah,” Varsi said after her.

“You realize you just stunned my Guard,” Tal said when the door closed behind them.

“Did I?” Salomen started up the staircase, still holding Tal's hand. “It wasn't intentional. I just wanted to thank her.”

“Warriors in the Lancer's Guard are not accustomed to being thanked by producers. You just turned her expectations on their collective ear.”

“Good.”

“I have a suspicion that you'll be turning a great many expectations on their ear once you arrive at the State House.”

“I certainly hope so.” Salomen stopped just before the top step and looked back with an impish smile. “And I hope most of them are yours.”

Tal moved up next to her. “Be careful what you wish for. I have a few expectations of you that I wouldn't want to see turned upside down.”

Salomen tugged her hand again. “We'll see, Lancer Tal. I promise nothing.”

They took the last step and turned down the hall. Too soon they stood in front of Salomen's door, in the awkwardness of ending that neither knew how to resolve.

“I'd kiss you goodnight,” Tal said, “but I'm too frightened of the possible consequences. At least with the last flash, we were already sitting. I have no desire to find myself lying on your hall floor.”

“Perhaps a different sort of kiss, then.” Salomen leaned in and dropped a very gentle kiss beside Tal's mouth, then moved her lips softly over her jaw and up to her ear. “Thank you for the best date of my life,” she whispered, then turned and stepped through her doorway. “Good night. I'll see you at mornmeal.”

Dazed from the breath in her ear, Tal could only nod. “Good night,” she said, just as Salomen closed the door. She moved down the hall without conscious thought.

The best date of her life?

By the time she arrived at her own door, Tal was walking half a body length off the ground.

CHAPTER 53
Tiles

 

What a difference two days
made. Spinner knew exactly what was happening on Hol-Opah now.

According to the latest report from his spy in Granelle, Lancer Tal had taken Salomen Opah to the best restaurant in town last night. Not only that, but she'd been dressed up enough for a diplomatic function, and the two were seen holding hands over the table. It looked as if the Lancer was seducing an easily impressed producer, but Spinner knew her better than his spy. This wasn't a joining of convenience; it was an actual courtship. So far as he knew, that woman hadn't courted anyone in a tencycle. Last cycle's pathetic attempt on her vacation didn't count.

Of all things, Lancer Tal was courting a producer. Unbelievable.

Was she doing it to regain support in the producer caste?

He thought about that for all of half a tick before shaking his head. No, she was too
honorable
for that. She would never do anything so calculated, which meant she was emotionally involved. It explained her “alliance” with the youngest son, as well as Herot's jealous anger—and why she had been so stupid as to let the public relations potential of that challenge go to waste. In fact, it might even explain the challenge itself. Perhaps that hadn't been as brilliant a move as he'd thought. Perhaps it had been something far simpler.

He smiled to himself. If Lancer Tal was involved, then she was distracted—and vulnerable. In fact, she had acquired several vulnerabilities. He just needed to decide which Opah best suited his purpose.

Salomen was the most obvious target, but there were complications with her visibility. Then again, her visibility might make her the best choice.

He had time to watch and wait. The last few strands of his web were almost in place. It was only a matter of time before Lancer Tal fell into it.

CHAPTER 54
It's personal

 

“May I join you?”

Micah looked up to see Nikin standing beside them, midmeal in hand.

“By all means,” Tal said. “Find a comfortable patch of dirt.”

They were sitting slightly apart from the rest of the field workers, though still within the trees at the edge of the grain field. Normally Tal sat with the workers, but Micah had needed to go over security details with her since tomorrow was the start of her speaking tour.

Nikin sat cross-legged, lowering himself in the fluid motion of a man accustomed to sitting on the ground. “Did Salomen go back to the house? I saw her in the cook's skimmer just as I was arriving.”

“She told me she needed time to prepare for tonight's caste house meeting,” Micah said. He took a bite of his stuffed pastry and made a happy sound. “I'm either going to have to start joining the Lancer on her runs or else become another Hol-Opah field worker.”

“Or you could just eat less,” Tal said. “Here, I'll take the rest of your pastry.”

“Keep dreaming.” He held it out of reach.

Nikin watched them in amusement. “You two act like Salomen and me. Are you sure you aren't related?”

“I'm sure,” Tal said. “We missed you out here this morning. How is the horten crop doing?”

“Good. Perfect if the rains would hold off a bit longer, but I think we'll be lucky as it is to get the grain in. Thank Fahla we're nearly done with the harvest; we're on borrowed time.”

Micah looked up at the clear blue sky. “Difficult to imagine, seeing that.”

“Don't let it fool you. It's always best right before it opens up and dumps on us.”

“What can you do?”

“What I've been doing—preparing the field cover. The horten needs just four or five more dry days. If the rains start before that, we'll cover the field and use artificial light. It's not ideal, and it's a mess during harvest, but it has saved our crop more than once.”

“Tell me if I can help,” Tal said. “I won't be here for the next three days, but I'll be back as Hol-Opah's most poorly paid field worker after that.”

“You're not paid at all,” he said with a grin.

Tal gestured her agreement and took a bite of her pastry.

“So you're speaking in Blacksun tomorrow and then…”

“Redmoon and Whitesun the next day, and Whitemoon the day after that,” Micah finished for her as she chewed.

“I wish you didn't have to go. For your sake, but for ours as well.”

“She does make a good field worker, doesn't she?”

“That's not what I meant.” Nikin was suddenly serious, and both Micah and Tal gave him their full attention. Looking at Tal, he said, “I, ah…I wanted to thank you for what you're doing for Herot.”

Tal put her pastry down. “You want to thank me for striking your brother?”

Micah's ears perked up. He hadn't had a chance to ask her about that yet.

“Not exactly, but…Herot was going to get hurt sooner or later. It actually took longer than I expected. And of the people who could have hurt him, I would much rather it was you. He's been going to the worst tavern in town these last few moons, with some of the worst people. I worry about him every night he's out. And based on what Salomen told me this morning, you might be the one to deflect him from this path.”

“Nikin…” Tal sighed. “I told Salomen that I'd do what I could. But I'm not Nashta, nor a parent of any kind, and I won't even be here beyond the end of this nineday. Please don't put so much hope in me.”

“You're the Lancer of Alsea. You're the hope for all of us.” He picked up his pastry and rose. “Anyway, I know you two are busy. I just wanted to say that. Thanks for sharing your patch of dirt with me.”

“It was my pleasure. Come sit in my dirt any time.” Tal looked after him as he walked away. “Did he mean I'm the hope for everyone on Hol-Opah or everyone on Alsea?”

“I would guess the latter.” Micah watched the retreating producer. “He's a good man. Carries a lot of his father in him.”

“Shikal birthed him. It makes sense that he'd be the most like him. And Salomen carries her mother. I wonder who Herot carries?”

“Perhaps that's the problem. Speaking of our favorite Opah, I heard you had company on your run again.”

“He made it a little farther this time. I was impressed, actually. By now he must truly be feeling the effects of that first run, not to mention the bruise I gave him last night, but he's pressing on. The real question is, will he run tomorrow?”

“I bet not. He's proving something to you. If you're not here, what's the point?”

“I'll take your bet. Yes, he's proving something to me, and what better way to do so than to demonstrate upon my return that he can do more than when I left?”

“Hm. You might be right.”

“Too late. The bet is mine.”

Micah stretched his arms and sighed happily. “I'll miss Hol-Opah. Guarding you in a remote field on a private holding has been a vacation. And now I must return to work.”

“Believe me, I'm even less happy about it than you.”

“I would imagine so. You have much better things to be doing, don't you?”

“Of course I do. You heard him, the horten crop is nearly ready for harvest.”

He chuckled. “Your face tells the truth though your tongue does not. The horten crop is the last thing on your mind. So when were you planning to tell me about your date? I've waited all morning with admirable patience.”

“Your patience is neither admirable nor even in existence, and since when is my date your business?”

“I am the Chief Guardian of the Lancer,” he said in his official tone. “Everything you do is my business.”

“I suggest you reread your position duties. Tracking the Lancer's romantic life is not part of them.”

“Ah, so there
was
romance!”

“You're impossible. I'm finishing my midmeal now; don't expect me to talk.” Tal took a huge bite of her pastry, and Micah held back a grin. She looked just like Jaros.

“Let's review the facts,” he said, ignoring her glare. “According to last night's duty reports, you and Raiz Opah made a rather stirring entrance to Meadowgreen and were seen thereafter holding hands across the table. You were also holding hands when you returned from your date, and there was a considerable period of time in which Varsi was guarding an occupied transport that was going nowhere. Given the earlier reference in her report to a physical altercation between you and Herot Opah, such…friendliness seems quite significant. Had you punched Herot a few ninedays ago, I suspect Raiz Opah would have sliced you to ribbons and dropped the pieces in the fanten food dispenser. It is therefore my opinion that you were exceedingly wise to wait this long before giving the little dokker what he so richly deserved. I can also draw the conclusion that your romance is proceeding at the usual pace, indicating that you might actually get beyond holding hands sometime next moon.”

“Enough!” Tal laughed in spite of herself. “I'll have you know that we got beyond holding hands last night. Though not by much.”

“Details, please.”

“Micah, I am not giving you details. I have no idea why you even ask.”

“Because sometimes you slip. More than holding hands, eh? In the absence of facts, I shall simply turn my imagination loose.”

“It won't do you the slightest bit of good.” Tal popped the last of the pastry in her mouth and dusted off her hands.

“Oh, I'm quite certain I can come up with something. That was a rather eye-opening dress Salomen wore last night. I suspect your eyes were opened considerably. Well, yours and everyone dining at Meadowgreen.”

“My eyes couldn't have been opened too far. I didn't see anyone but her.” Tal leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her legs. “Ah, that's nice.”

Micah settled himself as well. “There's hope for you, I think. True romance has finally hit you over the head.”

Tal nodded. “Literally. Which is why turning your imagination loose won't do you any good.”

“Eh? Are you saying Salomen really did hit you over the head? Damn, she
was
angry about Herot, then.”

“No! Good Fahla, she didn't hit me.”

“Then what?”

Tal's hesitation set off his alarms, but he held his relaxed pose and looked off toward the mountains, giving her time.

“Remember when I told you that our bonding process was accelerated?” she asked.

“On the way to Blacksun, yes. And I told you it was clearly a miracle of Fahla that for once you were proceeding faster than the normal rate instead of slower. Which does make the hand-holding issue a bit odd, now that I think of it.”

“It won't when you have all the pieces.” She pushed herself back into a cross-legged position, and the story she told made his hair stand on end.

“I cannot believe you kept this to yourself! Why am I only hearing about this now?” His entire professional existence was built around keeping her from harm, and here was a danger he didn't know about. Fahla, he'd never even heard of it.

“Because it's personal! It has nothing to do with my title or your duty. You cannot protect me from this. Can you tell me one single thing you would change as a result of knowing?”

No, he couldn't. There wasn't a damned thing he could do about it, and that just made it worse.

“You're right, you had no obligation to tell me,” he said. “As my Lancer, that is. As my friend, I'd hope that you would confide in me.”

“That's what I just did.” She was still nettled.

“There is one thing I would change, though. Now I'm regretting teasing you about it. This is not a laughing matter.”

Tal shook her head. “Don't you dare. I'm so used to your teasing that I wouldn't know how to function without it. And I certainly won't stop teasing you.”

“I never give you anything to tease me about, so that's not an issue.” He looked at her closely, seeing the tension in her eyes. “There's more.”

She sighed. “Yes, there is. And this part has everything to do with your duty. Lanaril said that there are stories about tyrees like us, in which the link we share is so extraordinary that both show the same symptoms when only one is ill. There are even stories of both tyrees dying from a mortal wound sustained by one. I had Aldirk do a records search for that data, and he sent me the results last night. He could find no confirmed cases of physical injury or death being transmitted across the bond, but he did find cases in which there seemed to be a shared immune system. So that much is fact. What worries me is the mere existence of the other stories. Lanaril can't be the only one who knows them.”

Micah's realization eclipsed any concerns about empathic shocks. “Great Goddess above. She'll be targeted.” And Salomen had no idea how to protect herself.

“I need you to start strategizing. Her security has to be trained and in place before our Sharing. It would be marvelous if we could keep the true nature of our bond a secret, but you and I both know we can't conceal it forever. And I'd rather be prepared for the inevitable than simply hope it won't happen.”

“Agreed. I'll start looking at possible Guards today. And I'm sorry, but your Sharing just became my business.”

“I know,” she groaned. “It's bad enough that our first kiss was in front of Guards, I had to take four Guards with me on my damned date, and you have an entire duty report detailing everything we did outside my transport. And now we can't even—” She stopped, her jaw clenched shut, then continued in a calmer voice. “I'll tell you as far in advance as I'm able. But I've had little control over this since the moment it began. It's like riding a winden bareback—holding on is the best I can do. Steering is out of the question.”

“Hold on as long as you can. For her sake.” He needed time they might not have.

“Believe me, I will. But I have to tell you, it's pulling us together. I can't believe how much has changed in just four days.” She put her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists. “It's ironic, though. With Darzen I put off Sharing because I was worried that the truth would end us. Salomen and I have based our relationship on nothing but truth, and we still have to put it off. I can't seem to win either way.”

“Fahla has a twisted sense of humor. But she has also given you a precious gift. Do not complain too loudly, or she may think you ungrateful.”

“Actually, I was considering a visit to her temple in Whitemoon. I want to thank her, and I'd rather do it with some modicum of privacy. If I walked into Blacksun Temple to burn an offering, the whole city would know before I left it.”

He clutched her knee in pretended shock. “You would darken the door of a temple? What is the world coming to?”

“According to Darzen Fosta, the end of our culture as we know it.”

“Well, that's just about what I thought it would take to get you into a temple. Not even invading Voloth could do it.”

“We all honor Fahla in our own way.” She removed his hand from her knee and ostentatiously dropped it. “You light oil bowls and pray for female companionship; I go to the woods and allow her message to reach me directly.”

“I do not pray for female companionship. I pray for my good friend Andira to be shown the true worth of her loyal Chief Guardian.”

“You'd better light a few more oil bowls, then. Clearly the offerings have been too small.”

“I've also prayed for her to give you your dream. If you don't mind the company, I'd like to go with you in Whitemoon. I have my own thanks to give.”

His sincerity caught her by surprise. “There you go again, ruining a perfectly good tease,” she said, but the sudden shine in her eyes gave her away.