Competitions (8 page)

“I know, Grami,” Kambil told her gently, patting her hand before releasing it. “I knew all about him five minutes after we met, and continue to make sure I never turn my back on him. Have you suddenly decided you did a terrible job of training me?”

“No, love, I’m just a worrier,” she replied, good humor immediately restored. For the millionth time Kambil noticed that she was still a handsome, vital woman, thank any Unknown Aspect that might have had anything to do with the matter. Grami was Father’s mother, and had come to live with them after Kambil’s mother died in childbirth with the infant who would have been his sister. She’d been the center of his universe forever, and even Father was able to relax and enjoy her presence.

“Yes, you
are
a worrier, and I love you for it,” Kambil said, walking her half way to the corridor which led to her wing of the house. “I’ll come to your apartment later, and tell you how things went.”

She patted his arm in agreement before continuing out of the wide sitting-entertainment area, her step firm and brisk but not at all hurried. Grami almost never hurried, not unless
she
considered the matter worth hurrying for. She was different from everyone else he knew, kind of crazy, lots of fun, and someone he loved with everything in him. And she never told him what to do, even when she didn’t like what he’d gotten involved in.

“Like this whole affair,” Kambil muttered, turning back to see that everything in the sitting area was prepared for the arrival of his guests. It might have been
some
comfort if he’d fallen into evil company through his own efforts, but he’d actually had nothing to do with being made a part of this group. He’d been noticed by some Guild man or other and been assessed a strong talent, so when they’d needed someone with Spirit magic to round out a group, he’d been drafted.

And now he was part of another group, and that was only a bit more voluntary than his membership in the first. The others had decided that they wanted to be the new Seated Blending, and had made plans to defeat the Blending chosen by the Advisors. It couldn’t possibly turn out to be as easy as his four associates expected, but they were all too emotionally involved with the idea to see anything but the end result they aimed at.

So for his own safety, Kambil had made it clear to all of them that he was with them. He wasn’t usually a timid man, rather to the contrary, but heroics were definitely not in order with this group. None of them had the least amount of self control, and there was no doubt that they would react violently toward any one or any thing trying to stand in their way. Even Homin Weil, who seemed to be afraid of everything including his own shadow. All
that
one needed was a trigger of a particular kind…

Kambil sighed, when he really would have been happier cursing out loud. Because his associates were so far out of balance,
he
had to be constantly in control of himself in case of an emergency. He was just as human as they were and therefore just as likely to lose his temper over something, but now he couldn’t afford to. Physically he happened to be larger than all of them, but now he was stuck in the role of gentle giant.

This time Kambil had to take a deep breath before running a hand through his very light brown hair. Unbalance seemed to be catching, because he’d never had this much trouble controlling his temper before. Now all it took was the thought of being in the same room with the others…

“Excuse me, Lord Kambil,” a voice said, and he turned to see one of the servants. “Lord Rigos’s carriage has just pulled up, and you asked to be informed when it did.”

“Yes, thank you,” Kambil said, using a final deep breath to pull himself together. “Show Lord Rigos in, and have one of the maids bring the tea immediately.”

The servant bowed his agreement and withdrew, leaving Kambil alone again for the moment. But that wasn’t likely to last, as Rigos usually arrived only a few minutes before the others were due. Not that most of the others were expected to be on time. Unless the meeting was being held in their own house, Kambil was the only one who appeared when he was supposed to. Rigos knew that as well as he did, but the Advisory agent enjoyed seeing the others squirm when he pretended he’d been waiting for hours.

“Lord Rigos,” the servant announced, and Kambil looked up to see the small man stroll into the room. It was unfortunate that he was both ordinarily talented and small in stature, as well as fiercely aware of his dignity. He’d certainly been teased unmercifully as a child, and now used his position to get even with the world. His hair and eyes were very dark, setting off his olive skin and framing his usual expression of cruelty hiding just behind extreme boredom.

“Good afternoon, Lord Kambil,” he said in a voice that would never be deep enough to satisfy him. “Obviously it was too much to hope that one or more of your associates would arrive before me.”

“If you like, I’ll make the effort to do that next week, when we meet at Homin’s house for the first time,” Kambil said with a friendly, ingenuous grin. “I’ve never been there, but I have faith that my driver will be able to find the way.”

“I’m sure he will,” Rigos answered with a very small flash of true amusement. “Unlike the drivers of so many of the others, who all seem to lose their way on a regular basis.”

They were discussing last week’s meeting at Delin Moord’s house, when Kambil had been the only one to arrive on time. Each of the others, when they finally rushed in, insisted in turn that
they
hadn’t been late, it was their driver’s having gotten lost that caused the delay. When Bron Kallan, the last to arrive, used the same excuse the other two had used before him, the situation had turned pathetically ridiculous.

“Yes, you’re truly a jewel among the dross,” Rigos murmured as he drifted around the room, looking at the displayed examples of Kambil’s father’s collection of antique teacups. “I feel so much closer to you than I do to the others, as though you and I were just alike and I might tell you anything. It’s my fond hope that you feel something of the same.”

Kambil was instantly alert, knowing Rigos felt nothing of the sort. The agent hated all of them just about equally, with a bit extra thrown in for Kambil because of his added height.

“Well, we do have quite a lot in common,” Kambil allowed slowly and thoughtfully, as though he had no idea what Rigos might be after. “Our fathers have almost the same position in society, but you’ve gone ahead and established your own position. I haven’t managed that as yet, so it wouldn’t be fair to say we’re just the same.”

“I’m sure you’ll begin to establish your own mark as soon as this competition business is over with,” Rigos said, turning to smile at Kambil. He’d enjoyed having his superiority pointed out, just as Kambil had meant him to. “When that happens we’ll be even closer, and right now I’d like to confide in you. As a preview of situations which will certainly come to be, if you take my meaning.”

The look in Rigos’s dark eyes had sharpened, and Kambil suddenly knew exactly what he meant. Rigos was promising him an influential—and well-paid—position, but in return for—what?

“I’d like to feel that you can confide in me under any circumstances,” Kambil said, even more carefully than before. “How can I help you?”

“Well, actually, it would not be me you were helping,” Rigos replied casually, scratching at one ear as he moved back toward Kambil. “A good friend of mine is also involved with doing things with the groups chosen for the competitions, and she’s worried about something. I told her I would think about the situation, and let her know if she was definitely worrying about nothing.”

“Ah, there’s a lady involved!” Kambil exclaimed with a grin, pretending he believed it. “Now I understand your interest in the matter. Again, how can I help?”

“You can help me to decide if she’s imagining things,” Rigos answered with a smile that would make a shark uneasy. “You see, she’s somehow gotten the idea that some of the groups have plans they’re not mentioning, like that they mean to actually try to win the competition. We both know they’d have no chance whatsoever doing it, but she’s still afraid they might try. Are her fears, in your opinion, completely groundless, or is she wise to suspect that something might be going on?”

“I suppose it depends on who the members of the particular groups are, but in general I’d say the poor little thing has let her imagination run away with her.” Kambil made certain to show a good deal of amusement as he said that, as though he were sharing the joke with Rigos. “You really must remind her that none of us wanted to do this in the first place, so sudden conversions to ambition would be completely out of character. They would have to exert themselves and make an effort, after all, and judging by this group I can’t honestly picture anything like that. Can you?”

“Not really,” Rigos grudged, forced into conceding the point. “When people can’t even manage to make a meeting on time—Well, there was always the possibility that someone would be that foolish.”

“If they are, they have my sincere condolences,” Kambil said, then gestured to the service a maid had brought and left. “Let’s have some tea while we wait, and continue our discussion sitting down, like civilized people. I’d still like to know what you mean about my achieving a mark of my own after this competition nonsense is over.”

Kambil let a flash of intense interest and casual greed show briefly in his expression, but not so briefly that Rigos didn’t notice it. An innocent man who was uninvolved in plots and plans would certainly pursue the subject, and that should put Rigos even more off-guard—which it did.

“When I referred to your future achievements, I was proposing a trade of favors, so to speak,” Rigos explained as he reached out to pour himself a cup of tea, no longer paying more than token attention to Kambil’s reactions. “You attend quite a lot of receptions that the members of the other groups do, which means that if there’s something to be heard, you’re most likely to hear it. If you’ll do me the favor of passing on anything you might hear, I’ll be pleased to return the favor by recommending you for any post which might catch your eye.”

“Now that’s what I call an interesting trade of favors,” Kambil said with a distracted nod, as though he were thinking about the matter. “I’ll certainly be glad to pass on anything I might hear, and trust to your generosity when an interesting post turns up.”

“If you happen to hear anything of real value, my generosity will be just about guaranteed,” Rigos began, then abruptly fell silent when a servant appeared.

“Lord Kambil, Lord Delin’s carriage is just pulling up,” he said. “He should be shown in in another moment or two.”

“Thank you,” Kambil said, then turned to Rigos with a grin. “Well, that’s one silver din I’ve won from my grandmother. I bet that Delin would be the first to arrive, but she put her silver on Homin. She thought he would be too afraid to show up late again, but I know him better than that. He’s also too scatterbrained to plan far enough in advance.”

“Unfortunately true,” Rigos granted with a nod and another cruel smile, apparently believing the story Kambil had come up with on the spur of the moment. He didn’t want Rigos to know that he had the servants watching for people’s arrival, or Rigos might begin to wonder what he could be up to. He’d have to tell the servants to be more discreet in the future… “And we may have to do something about Lord Homin,” Rigos added. “We do need this group to make
some
sort of showing, but right now—”

His words broke off as Lord Delin Moord was announced, and they both turned to look at the man. Handsome and charming was too pale a phrase for Delin, communicating nothing of the personal power he radiated when he entered a room. The man was better than six feet tall, almost as large as Kambil, in fact, but somewhat more sleekly built. Women tended to lust after him at first sight, drooling over his long black hair and light blue eyes and muscular body, and Delin was usually only too willing to accommodate them.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said negligently as he joined them, looking around with amusement. “I was delayed getting started today, but it looks like I’m still the first one here.”

“Yes indeed, Lord Delin, but after what I said to Lord Homin last week, about not having been on time
yet
, you shouldn’t be the first,” Rigos answered sourly. “I was just mentioning to Lord Kambil that something will have to be done about the situation, before it comes to the attention of my superiors.”

“What do you expect to be able to do about Homin short of ejecting him from the group?” Delin asked with continuing amusement. “And if you do that, everyone else including myself will vie to take over his tardiness in order to be the next one ejected. Do you have any idea who I could have been with right now if I hadn’t had to come here?”

“Some infinitely enchanting lady, I’m sure,” Rigos returned dryly, obviously—“feeling”—nothing of what Kambil did. Delin was pretending just as hard as Kambil had, and apparently with an equal amount of success. “No, Lord Delin, I won’t be ejecting Lord Homin from the group, but I
will
have to do something.”

Kambil and Delin exchanged a quick glance as Rigos turned away from them, both of them very much aware that Rigos was deliberately not going into details. It was almost certain that he had something definite in mind, but he didn’t seem ready to share the something yet.

Delin helped himself to a cup of tea while Rigos and Kambil chose chairs, and then the newcomer joined them. They sat chatting about nothing of consequence for a number of minutes, and then Selendi Vas was announced.

“Lady Selendi, how gracious of you to grant us your presence,” Rigos drawled as she bustled in. “And no more than twenty minutes late.”

“I almost didn’t come at all,” Selendi replied as she looked around, then made directly for the tea service. “The scarf I wanted to wear with this dress was nowhere to be found, so I had to force myself to leave the house without it. If anyone of consequence sees me looking like this, I’ll simply die right on the spot.”