Laldasa (36 page)

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Authors: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

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BOOK: Laldasa
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“I'm not sure I do either.” He smoothed the front of his tunic, which didn't need smoothing. “Ana, do you really want to study for Orders?”

She glanced up at him. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“With the Deva Radha?”

She smiled and he could see her eagerness. “That would be the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Which would give your life here a purpose.”

“Yes.”

“You take your commitment to the Path seriously.”

“Of course, I do.” She made an impatient gesture. “Speak plainly, mahesa. I'm sick of skirting the issue. You ask how serious I am. What you want to know is if I would be willing to spend some moments in your bed. Long enough, say, for you to satisfy yourself before I embark on my devotions.”

She shocked him into a half-considered reply. “No! Not moments. I don't want mere moments. I want you to stay.”

“Then command me to stay and have done with it.” There was challenge in her voice, in her eyes.

“I don't want that.”

“Of course not. You want me to enslave myself willingly.”

“I don't want you to enslave yourself at all.”

“Nathu Rai, I know you don't understand this, but my freedom is in my bhakti. Ram-ji is my Lord, not you, not your passions, not mine. I would be a fool to burn up my freedom and the passion of my soul in a physical fire.” Her eyes strayed to the door. “I believe in another Fire. A Fire that warms instead of burning; a passion that purifies, like the Fire and passion of bhakti. No, not like bhakti—it is bhakti, but devotion to a human beloved. I would gladly give my soul into that Fire, not for annihilation, but for union. I want to know a union with my human beloved that is a reflection of my union with the Divine. You don't believe in a Divine.”

He didn't argue his belief or lack of it. He was suddenly sick of arguing. “Do you believe this is only a physical fire?”

“I don't know. But if it is, it will die out and leave ashes.”

He took a step closer to her chair, raised a hand to her hair, and stroked it. “I don't think it will die out.”

Her eyes glinted. “So you want me to stay until you're sure? You want me to give my body to you until you're certain you love the soul that goes with it?” She shook her head, her mouth twisted wryly. “You asked me once if your honor was just a spiritual abstract. What about mine? Should I just put it aside while you come to some decision? Should I become something other than what I am?”

Guilt gnawed sharply at his stomach. “No. No, you're right. I can't ask that of you ... or demand it. But I have to be honest and admit that I want to demand it ... Laldasa.”

“That's what I'd always be, isn't it—your beloved slave.”

She held her left hand before his face, then took his and lifted it to the same level. Raicree and dascree faced each other between them.

“We are unequal, Nathu Rai. And inequity cannot be brought to union.”

Jaya grasped her hand with his own, bringing their marked palms together. The touch sent a thousand tongues of flame through him.

“These marks mean nothing. They're just so much pigmentation. You are more than my equal, Ana.”

Her eyes met his again over their entwined fingers. “I hear the words, Nathu Rai. I have to ask myself if you truly believe them.”

She pulled her fingers from his and slipped away.

Jaya Sarojin had to ask himself the same thing.

oOo

Duran Prakash arrived at the Sarojin Palace precisely on time and was therefore nearly ten minutes late by the time the security team had gotten through checking his id and searching his car and person. He was convinced Jaya Sarojin had given them special instructions to make the experience as embarrassing as possible for him.

He dined with the Rani Melantha in one of the smaller private parlors on the premiere floor—the Room of Moons she called it, since the dominant color was a soft, silvery whisper reminiscent of moonlight. She was not her usual talkative self and Prakash hoped that signified some anxiety over Jaya's run-in with the WoCoa thugs.

Over dessert she confirmed his hope, but not quite as he expected.

“Duran,” she said, “what do you know about the attack on my son? Were you responsible?”

He nearly dropped a cup of scalding channa in his lap. “Melantha, what can you be thinking? Who would have put such a vicious idea into your head?”

Her eyes were on the fire in the half-moon hearth. Her fingers toyed with the folds of her gown.

“You wanted to influence his vote.”

“I wanted him to vote sensibly and justly. I believed, and still do believe, that once all the facts were revealed he would have found the Consortium's case to be the stronger. I assure you, I sent no thugs to intimidate him.”

That was probably the last truth he would tell this evening.

“Can you assure me that your masters didn't?”

“The Consortium doesn't conduct its business that way, Melantha, surely you know that. I shouldn't be discussing this with you.”

“No one will discuss it with me, Duran. No one. Jivinta Mina said this afternoon that you knew why Jaya was attacked, then closed up as tight as Greed's jewel box.”

“That I-?” Prakash was quite realistically shocked. Who'd have thought the old woman was half aware of what was going on?

“I supposed she must have meant the KNC was responsible.”

“Ridiculous!”

“Is it? Who else would want to pressure him into throwing the Sarojin vote behind Kasi-Nawahr?”

“The Worker's Coalition.”

“And who are they?”

“Only a simple group of fanatical and misguided souls acting out their fear. They're desperate men doing desperate things and we regret that heartily. You must not believe the Consortium condones their actions.”

The Rani stood. “How desperate are you, Duran? How desperate are Nigudha Bhrasta and his Board of Directors?”

“Melantha, I assure you, the Directors of Kasi-Nawahr Associates have not been plotting to influence the Sarojin. By God, how could you think it? Nigudha Bhrasta is above reproach in his business dealings. Ask Namun Vedda, if you won't believe me. He's dealt with Bhrasta for years. Can you honestly picture him consorting with someone who'd send a troupe of henchmen after his godson?”

“No. Honestly, I can't. But Namun's dealings with the KNC do not make him privy to the secrets of its directors.”

“The Board of Directors is innocent of this, Melantha. Nigudha Bhrasta is innocent of it. I give you my word.”

“Ah. Your word.” She nodded and moved away from the table toward the pale, arched mantelpiece. “How much is that worth, do you think?”

“Melantha, your distrust wounds me. I-“ He cut off as the chamber door swung open and Ari appeared.

“Pardon, Rani, but the Vadin Bel Adivaram desires an audience with you. He says it's urgent.”

The Rani's brow furrowed and she made a sweeping gesture with one hand as if to bat the intrusion away. “Adivaram? What could he want? Show him in, Aridas.”

Ari bowed and moved silently back through the door. He returned seconds later with a distressed looking Bel Adivaram. The Vadin went directly to the Rani.

“My dear,” he said, clasping her hand, “I must speak to you about your son.”

The Rani's gaze flickered to Duran Prakash, drawing Adivaram's after it.

“Prakash-sama,” the Vadin greeted him curtly. “My apologies for interrupting your obviously pleasant evening, but I must ask to have private words with the Rani Sarojin. I assure you it is important.”

Prakash rose and bowed. “Vadin, your apologies are not necessary. Excuse me, Rani, I'll be in the Court Parlor.”

The Rani nodded to him, then moved to sit on a couch flanking the hearth. She motioned Adivaram to a chair opposite.

He did not go to the Court Parlor. He went only as far as the corridor just beyond the chamber doors, which he left very slightly ajar. From his vantage point, he could see the back of the old Vadin's head and Melantha's face.

“You say you have some urgent business that concerns Jaya?” the Rani asked.

Adivaram spread his hands in a broad gesture. “To be completely frank, my dear, this could be a matter of life and death. Ah, I know,” he said, apparently reacting to her expression of disbelief. “The old man loves to exaggerate. I assure you, dear Melantha, this time I do not. Jaya is embarking on a very dangerous exploration into things I fear he is ill-equipped to handle.”

“What do you mean? What things? He's no longer involved with the case against AGIM.”

“Oh, only incidentally. Besides, that is a matter of record with the Vrinda Varma and the Inner Circle. I would take any fears associated with that case to them. No, no. This has nothing to do with that.”

The Rani's brows winged gracefully upward. “No? I thought everything had to do with that.”

“Unfortunately, this is an entirely separate matter, one it would do me little good to take to the Vrinda Varma. It came to my attention as a matter of, em, internal Zone security.”

“What did?”

“Your son has taken it upon himself to champion the cause of Avasan yevetha.”

“He what?” The Rani's relaxed pose became suddenly rigid. She flushed, shook her head and made a languid move to rearrange her silken skirts. “How is this a matter of life and death?”

“There are people who have, shall we say, an interest in the, ah, disposal of these yevetha I mention. People who would rather that their disposal not be investigated.”

“Don't be mysterious, Bel. It irritates me. What people?”

Adivaram cocked his head to one side as if about to impart a great confidence. “It has come to my attention, Rani, that a ring of thieves are plying a very lucrative and very specialized trade in my Zone. They are waylaying travelers as they wander the Warrows and stealing their id. The beneficiaries of this activity would seem to be one of our more prosperous brokerages. Your son is attempting to apply the leverage of his station against the masters of this illegal enterprise.”

The Rani shrugged. “So tell him to leave off. Tell him it's for the Sarngin to sort out.”

“Ah, I wish it were that simple. Your son, Rani, noble as he certainly is, is also stubborn. It would seem his, er, liaison with your stunning Avasan clanswoman has made him particularly tenacious about exposing these conspirators. The warnings given him by my officers were useless.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on pudgy knees. “We suspect, Rani, that there are people of high position in the business community who derive much material wealth from these activities, and Jaya is placing himself in direct conflict with their interests. I do not exaggerate when I say that these people may be very dangerous. They have much to protect.”

He leaned back in his chair and gazed at her in silence for a moment. Duran Prakash could well imagine the expression of deep concern on the old man's face.

“Believe me, if my authority extended over the members of the Taj House, I would order him to leave this matter to the Sarngin, but ... ” He shrugged. “Unless he does something illegal—which we both know is entirely unlikely—my hands are tied. You, my dear, were the only person I could think of in a position to influence the Nathu Rai. Please, I urge you, for your sake as well as his, make him see reason. I can do no more than pray he comes to no further harm.”

The Rani glanced at him sharply, her eyes glittering strangely in her porcelain face. “Further harm? Are you linking the beating with this other business?”

“Those thugs were not what they seemed to be, Rani. I know that as well as Jaya does. They weren't KNC wharfers, you know. They were yevetha.”

The Rani rose and moved to the mantelpiece, putting her back to her guest. “Why would they claim to be KNC wharfers if they were involved in this other business?”

“Can you think of a more perfect or ready-made cloak? You remarked on it yourself—it seems that everything is about the KNC and AGIM.”

The Rani was silent for a moment, toying with a mantelpiece decoration. “What you say makes some sense. And I must admit, Bel, I am afraid for Jaya right now. I ... I have already lost my husband. I don't want to lose my son, as well.”

“No, no. Of course not.”

“I'll speak to him,” she said. “He'll accuse me of meddling, of course, but I will try.”

“Good.” The Vadin nodded, rising. “I have no desire to see Jaya follow his father's path to the tomb. Well, my dear, I thank you for hearing me out. I must be going.”

The Rani, still finding her mantelpiece of more interest than her guest, waved her hand dismissively. “Yes. Yes, of course,” she murmured.

Bel Adivaram rounded the sofa and moved toward the door; Duran Prakash slid silently away from the door.

The Rani asked: “You mentioned Avasans in particular—Avasan yevetha. Why?”

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