Mouse and Dragon

Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The guest is sacrosanct. The welfare and comfort of the guest will be first among the priorities of the House, for so long as the guest shall bide.

—Excerpted from the Liaden Code of Proper Conduct

Of course, Mizel had chosen the Healers. Aelliana supposed she ought to be relieved, that they had chosen at all.

She flew The Luck to Chonselta solo, and even on so short a lift bitterly felt the lack of his calm, solid presence in the other chair. But it would not have done, Mizel's further condition being that she should have no congress with Daav yos'Phelium. If they were chance met, as say, at Kareen yos'Phelium's formal gather, some weeks from now, they were to bow with appropriate courtesy and separate themselves as quickly as possible.

And it would not have been any easier, Aelliana thought, sealing The Luck and walking down the gantry with her bag over one shoulder, to leave him at Chonselta Port than it had been to leave him—at home.

“Three days, at most,” he had murmured into her hair, as they embraced for what she would not think of as the last time. “Now that this is begun, it should end quickly. I'll wager you'll be back home well before Kareen's gather, and will not have the occasion to impose upon Lady yo'Lanna after all.”

Aelliana smiled slightly as she came to the ground and walked on in the direction of the main thoroughfare. Lady yo'Lanna had immediately fallen in with the suggestion that Aelliana's dress be delivered to Glavda Empri, with Eyla dea'Lorn, too. Aelliana would then take herself there for dressing. “For,” Daav had said, with great common sense, “you would not want to crush your skirts in the pilot's chair.”

She came out of the yard into a side street. Ahead, the sign for a taxi stand glowed gently against the afternoon light.

Scarcely had she touched the call switch than a car pulled up, back door open.

“Service, Pilot?”

“Yes, thank you.” She tossed her bag inside and slid in after it.

“Healer Hall, if you please.”

She was shown into a side parlor, with assurances that the guide to her quarters would be with her very soon, and left alone. Aelliana sighed, put her bag on the seat of the nearest chair and wandered over to the table. There were several decanters and glasses set ready, but she did not wish for wine. Continuing her prowl, she came to a bookshelf scantily filled with old novels and out-of-date periodicals. She flipped through them, and had just decided that she ought to choose one of the garden magazines to while her time when the door opened and a woman whose face was immediately familiar to her entered the room and bowed.

“Kestra, Master Healer,” she said briskly, and straightened with a smile. “Pilot Caylon, how good it is to see you looking so well . . . ” Grey brows pulled sharply together.

It seemed to Aelliana that the Healer looked past her face, indeed, that her gaze was fixed slightly above her head.

“Yes,” Kestra said, considerably less brisk, “it is wonderful to see you looking so exceptionally well. This is beyond anything we had dared to hope for. How does your lifemate go on, if an old woman might inquire?”

Aelliana tipped her head. “He fares very well by my accounting. However, my eyesight is not so sharp as your own. It may interest you to know that it has not been given him to . . . experience me fully.”

“No? But surely—” The Healer sighed sharply and moved her hands in a gesture vaguely akin to forgive in hand-talk. “I am but seeing half the pattern. With the wholeness before me, I might see the flaw and the flow, but even then—perhaps not. There is a great deal of flash and brangle about your partner, which makes it difficult—but there! You are not here to satisfy my vulgar curiosities, though you must permit me to say again that it is gratifying to behold you thus. I had hoped that our work would give you some ease. That you have been able to take what we began and unfurl your wings so far . . . ” She bowed again, gently, as one who has beheld a wonder.

“Thank you, Pilot.”

“Surely, it is I who should thank you. Had you not made a beginning, I should—I should not have been able to build upon your work.” And, she added silently, she would not have been made privy to the complex, tricksy creature who was Daav yos'Phelium, without whom—

“We are both in debt to the other,” Master Kestra said.

“And so the debts cancel,” Aelliana said, and inclined her head. “When this current business is done, if you like, you may come to us at Jelaza Kazone, to view the whole of the pattern.”

“That at least would satisfy an old woman's curiosity. However, you remind me, most gently, of our current business. Allow me to show you to your lodging.” She turned with a sweep of her hand and crossed the room to the door. Aelliana stretched her legs, snatched up her bag, and followed.

“The Hall Master felt that you and those of our order would find more comfort if you were at some remove from the house. We hope that you will find it worthy. It has its own entrance onto the street, so that your visitors may come to you without recourse to our doorkeeper; and you may come and go about your business as it may be necessary. It is, admittedly, not convenient to the dining facilities in the main house, but there is a small and well-stocked kitchen. We can of course provide companionship. The guest need only ask.”

Master Kestra produced a key from her sleeve and used her chin to point at the stone cottage nestled in the far corner of the Hall's inner garden. Flowers surrounded it, and a small tree with long trailing branches covered with pale pink flowers half-concealed the doorway.

Aelliana paused, and took a breath against the tightness in her chest. The breeze brought her the sweet scent of flowers and a faint, musical tinkle.

“Wind chimes,” Master Kestra said. “We can remove them if they annoy. If this arrangement is not convenient to you, there is an apartment available within the house . . . ”

“No, it is—please do not remove the chimes on my account,” Aelliana said quickly. “As for the situation itself—I think that I will like it extremely. I have been—accustomed to having a garden, of late.”

“Perhaps you should look inside before making a final decision,” Master Kestra said, preceding her up the two shallow steps and sliding the key into the reader on the door.

There came a small beep, the door opened and the Healer stepped back to allow Aelliana to enter.

It was no bigger than their private apartment at Jelaza Kazone: a single large room divided into three areas by painted screens. The kitchen was small, but, as promised, well-stocked; the bedroom comfortable, the 'fresher unit slightly cramped but entirely usable. In the main room, a desk sat near the window; behind, an upholstered chair, a chaise and a double sofa were grouped companionably by a low table.

Another table, near the bookshelves, held a comm unit and an entertainment screen. The floor was covered with woven jute over which other rugs had been deployed with haphazard charm. At the very back of the room, beyond the bookshelves, was a short hallway. Aelliana opened the door at its far end, and stepped out onto a thin porch, three stone steps above street level. A modest hedge and a wooden gate separated her from the public walkway.

She closed the door, locked it and returned to Master Kestra, waiting patiently by the window.

“Of companionship,” she said, “I thank the Hall for its care. One would welcome a cat, if possible. The house—”

She looked about her once more, pleased and in some way soothed. “The house will do excellently.” She bowed gratitude to the house. “I thank you. Please convey my pleasure and gratitude to the Hall Master.”

“We are delighted to hear that the guest is pleased,” the Healer said, with no noticeable irony. She extended her hand. “If you please, Pilot?”

Aelliana put her palm against the other woman's soft flesh. Perhaps she felt a slight tingle of energy; perhaps it was merely her fancy. Whichever, it was only a heartbeat before Kestra broke contact.

“Felicitations,” she murmured.

Aelliana frowned. “Felicitations?”

“Indeed. Korval and all who wish them well must be gladdened to know that the heir has been conceived.”

The heir? Aelliana pressed her hand against her breast, recalling Daav, the first day they had shared the tree's bounty, felled by his morsel, and his voice breathless with some exultation that had not been fear: “Surely it has no need to murder me today, and good reason to keep me alive for just a few days more.”

She took a hard breath and stared at the Healer, her face so calm and her eyes so knowing.

“Daav had kept fertile,” she said stringently, “for he had been to wed. I, however—had no such necessities.”

“Ah.” Master Kestra inclined her head. “Have you, perchance, eaten of the fruit of Korval's tree?”

“Yes, certainly. It is able to bypass the safeguards?”

“It is able to do a great many things, apparently, and it is invested in a Korval heir, more than many.”

Well, and Daav had told her that, too. She had not thought, not even while she was asking it to engineer some way for them to fully share themselves . . .

Whether it was at all reasonable, she owned herself annoyed, though not quite utterly horrified. Why couldn't it do as it was asked, she thought irritably, instead of playing mischief with one's sureties and arranging for an heir, too—

She gasped.

“Master Kestra.”

“Yes, Pilot?”

“I must ask you to hold this information in the strictest confidence. Tell no one! If Mizel—Mizel will see even more advantage in delay, if it becomes known that I am pregnant beforetime.”

Kestra inclined her head. “It is forgotten,” she said solemnly.

“I thank you,” Aelliana said fervently.

“Is there anything else the guest desires,” the Healer asked, “excepting a cat?”

Daav, Aelliana thought, around a knife thrust of longing so intense she thought she might be ill. As pleasant and cozy as it was, she foresaw that the cottage might very soon come to seem vast and echoing.

Forcefully, she put these thoughts behind her and shook her head.

“I thank you,” she said to the Healer. “I am well-content.”

“Then I will leave you. Please recall that you are welcome in the House, if you care to join us for meals or at another time. There is a list of activities on the house-net.”

“Thank you,” Aelliana said again, and it was all she could do, to hold the tears decently at bay until Master Kestra had made her bow and departed.

Aelliana closed the door, and made sure it was latched, then leaned her forehead against the friendly wood and allowed the tears to have their way.

Uneasy with the silence, she had found a music feed on the entertainment unit and turned up the volume until it could be heard in the furthermost corner of the little house. She washed her face, arranged the port comm on the desk; and hung her clothes away in the wardrobe, working methodically and taking care to think only on the task in hand.

Unhappily, she had not brought clothes enough that she would be occupied all evening by hanging them away. She sighed, leaving the green robe draped across the foot of the bed and went back into the main room. Leaning over the desk, she touched her screen—and jumped at the sound of a firm knock.

The knock came again—from the garden-side door, which meant that her visitor was a Healer—perhaps even the Hall Master, come to see how the guest was faring. It would not do, she told herself sternly, to simply ignore the summons, though she was not at all certain that she wanted company.

She opened the door.

“Well met, Pilot Caylon! The house offers companionship!”

The woman on the step had chocolate brown hair and light blue eyes. She was holding a lanky grey cat stretched across her body from hip to shoulder, one hand supporting the lean belly, the other gripping just beneath the upper legs. The cat's head was against her shoulder. There was something about the long muzzle that suggested at least temporary resignation; the very tippiest tip of the scruffy tail was twitching. Slowly.

Aelliana stepped back. She had, after all, requested a cat.

“Please bring her in,” she said hastily, “and put her down before she becomes angry.”

“He,” the other woman corrected, stepping into the house with a will. “Close the door, or he'll hide in the garden and it will take days to coax him back out.”

Aelliana complied, and her visitor placed the cat on the sofa.

“Now, Mouse, behave yourself. Pilot Caylon had specifically desired you.”

Mouse, however, having been granted liberty, wasted no time in leaping to the floor and taking refuge beneath the chaise.

The woman sighed and turned to Aelliana, her hands raised chest-high in a gesture that looked like the sign for surrender. Since she was wearing a shirt cut very low over round breasts, the gesture was beguiling—as perhaps it was meant to be. Her smile grew softer as she lowered her hands, and wider as Aelliana followed them to a trim waist.

“He'll come out in a while—whenever it suits him. He'd been living wild in the business district, and not doing a very good job of it. One of the desk workers found him fainting and desperate and brought him to us. He hasn't been here long, and isn't very trusting of people yet.” She took a step toward Aelliana, her presence somehow heating the air between them. “My name is Jen ana'Tilesty, Pilot.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Healer,” Aelliana said, breathing deeply against the sudden warming of her blood. “Thank you for bringing the—for bringing Mouse. I had scarcely expected him so soon.”

“The way the house works is that whoever is at liberty takes up the next task in queue. Mouse was at liberty and I was, so here we both are. Master Kestra said you wished companionship.”

Companionship. And Master Kestra made sure to send a woman, Aelliana thought, so that the heir's parentage was not for a heartbeat in contention.

“It may be,” she said slowly, “that I, in my ignorance, gave Master Kestra faulty information. Certainly, she had offered companionship, and I had said, yes, meaning that I wished for a cat. She may have heard differently, with Healer's ears.”

“That's likely,” Jen ana'Tilesty said seriously. “Even I can see—well. I'll never be a Master Healer, no matter how much you polish me.”

“But you are,” Aelliana said, “a Healer.”

“I'm a Healer. I teach Empathic Sensuality, and tutor those whose clans don't want them going ignorant to their contract beds.”

She had never considered . . . certainly she had gone ignorant—desperately so—to her contract bed. Such a tutor might have shielded her from the worst of the damage inflicted by her husband. So much time wasted, thinking that what was happening to her was what everyone endured . . .

“I've stirred up something bad,” the other woman said. “Forgive me, Pilot.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I was merely remarking to myself that I wished I had known that such persons as you had existed . . . many years ago, now.”

“We all learn what we're meant to learn, when the time is ripe for learning,” Jen ana'Tilesty said. “You know I exist now, and I'm pleased to offer whatever will ease you.”

Aelliana considered her, glanced beyond her to where the cat named Mouse was only a pair of glowing green eyes, underneath the chaise.

“I wonder,” she said, looking back to Jen ana'Tilesty's wide-cheeked face, “if you would like a toasted cheese sandwich.”

The sandwiches had turned out moderately well. She was, Aelliana thought, gaining some skill on that front. Jen had proved a convivial companion, knowledgeable on subjects which Aelliana scarcely knew existed. After the meal was eaten, they cleaned up the kitchen, saw to the needs of the as-yet-invisible Mouse, and played several rounds of Modes, Aelliana having declined to play cards against a novice.

Just after midnight, they parted amicably on a three-and-three split, with promises on both sides for a rematch. Aelliana had then sought the bed behind the painted screen.

It was a very wide bed; the sheets were chilly; the pillows by turn too soft and too hard. She lay on her back and deliberately closed her eyes, but she was anything but restful. Now that it was quiet, thoughts crowded upon her. The tree—how could it have circumvented her protection! Worse, could a child born from such unguessable tampering be—well? Or ought it be aborted in favor of a more-regularly-got child?

Alas, her expert on Korval's tree was beyond her for these next few days—surely no more than a few days!—and that was an unhappy thought, indeed, for it brought to mind precisely the very many ways in which she missed him, and how much she wanted him with her this moment, in this terrible, strange bed, placing his hands thus and his lips so, and doing that particular—

Aelliana snapped up, forcefully pounding the too-hard pillow before curling onto her side. Her blood was hot, now, and she missed him even more for knowing that he would not tonight at least be slipping into bed behind her, curling his long body around hers; his skin so warm, soft over hard, wiry muscle, and his hands so knowing . . .

She fell at last into an uneasy doze in which it was not Daav but Jen ana'Tilesty who had curled 'round her, and teased her onto her back, offering a round breast to suckle while she guided Aelliana's hands, teaching her—

Unfairly, she woke again, hot and disordered, before the lesson was well completed, and retreated from the bed. Belting her robe around her, she went past the screen and into the common room.

Mouse's eyes still glowed from beneath the chaise.

Aelliana sighed and sat down on the floor, her shoulder against the chaise and her legs curled under her.

“I had used to be a mouse, you know,” she murmured. "Utterly craven. I hid from my own reflection and would scarcely have spoken at all, saving that I had students and one must, after all, teach. I thought that my cowardice would save me; but in the long term, it did not answer. Those whom my existence threatened demanded ever more mouselike behavior. Willingly, I gave my strength away, but I was never safe, and I was always—always afraid.

"My fear almost killed me, though by then I had been growing bolder. But I had given so much of my strength away . . . it was a near thing, and I take no credit for my own survival. What I have learned is—mark me now!—life is not safe. Random action threatens us all. The choices we have are between fear and boldness, between joy and terror.

“If at all possible, I believe it is necessary to choose joy. One may survive no longer, nor ever be safe, but one's life will be worth living.”

She sighed, and rested her head against the side of the chaise.

“I don't presume to make your choices for you,” she told the cat, her eyelids drooping. “I merely offer the fruit of my own experience.”

She allowed her eyes to drift shut. It was very quiet in the little house. On The Luck, such silence would be horrifying, signaling the loss or malfunction of vital systems. Here . . . she was very tired, and the silence allowed her to hear quite small sounds, such as the beginning purr of a cat.

Aelliana sighed and settled her head more closely against the upholstery.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was filled with sunlight, her legs were stiff, and a rangy grey cat was curled up snugly asleep in her lap.

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