Trade Secret (eARC) (42 page)

Elthoria

The Young Gentleman Returns

"Mother."

He bowed, affection to close kin, which he felt was true enough, especially since he'd teared up like a kid the instant he stepped from the lock into
Elthoria
proper.

The tech on duty, one Kar Sin bel'Witnin had bowed greeting to one long missed, and added, "Trader Jethri, welcome back to us. The Master Trader sends that you will find her in her office."

"My thanks," he'd answered, voice husky. "And for the welcome, also."

Now, he found his voice even more clogged with emotion, so that he stopped, hoping she would understand all that he meant to convey.

"My son, you return, and make us whole again."

She rose from her chair, for he had not found her behind her desk, but in her favorite chair, hands folded on her knee--idle, when Norn ven'Deelin was never idle.

Rising, she extended her arms, and he came into her embrace, bending so that he might put his cheek against hers.

Her hug was stronger than he might have expected, her fingers a little cool, where they pressed his cheek.

"There!" she said softly, and patted his cheek gently as she moved away. "Come now, sit down and allow me the pleasure of beholding you. Shall you wish for wine?"

"If you please, ma'am."

She poured, which ought to have been his duty, as son and as junior in trade. He reckoned that he'd be back there soon enough, and this hour, for his homecoming, the usual mode was suspended.

He received the glass from her hand, and held it between his palms. She seated herself with a soft sigh, and raised her glass.

"To the joys of coming home."

"To the joys of homecoming," he answered, and they sipped, and smiled at each other.

"I must thank you, first, for transmitting such fascinating reading. It will require more study yet, but I believe
Elthoria
may be well placed to assist in the goals put forth in this
Envidaria
. Allow me to praise your father to you, my child, as a bold and forward-looking man, of which we see too few among us. His death diminishes us all, and yet his work--his work enriches us."

He felt the stupid tears rise again--well, it had been a series of tight Jumps from Hatalan, Scout ter'Astin being unwilling to leave the business there overlong. He was exhausted, was what it was.

"Yes," his mother said softly, and then, more briskly, "Allow me to hold you a moment more from your bed to satisfy a mother's natural concerns. Are your affairs now in Balance? Have you recovered those things which were reft from you?"

"Indeed, Mother, my affairs are perfectly aligned. I am in Balance with the universe."

"Is it so, indeed? How long do you suppose this happy state will endure?"

"Possibly another five minutes, ma'am."

"So long as that? Well, let us see."

Jethri had a sip of wine.

"Well! I will also allow you to know, briefly, my child, as you indulge me with another sip of wine--I allow you to know that Rantel pin'Aker has contacted me, suggesting that we might deal together profitably in the matter of a certain young trader. We shall find ourselves on the same port in only two Standard Months, and will meet then on the matter."

Jethri smiled. "The Master Trader was extremely taken with Tan Sim, ma'am. He said that, with proper nurturing, Tan Sim might well achieve Master."

"And well he might. But first, he must survive. Rantel and I will make that our first priority, with your leave, my son."

He grinned at her. "By all means."

"Excellent." The corner of her mouth twitched. "You must also be made aware, my child, that Tan Sim was not the only young trader with whom Rantel was taken."

"We might have shown well in comparison to others who were present. I think, ma'am, that Infreya chel'Gaibin may have . . . insulted Master Trader pin'Aker, and I was present when Bar Jan made a serious misstep with A'thodelm pin'Aker."

"Well, here's worthy gossip! You will tell me more--you will tell me every detail of this grand adventure, after you have rested and refreshed yourself."

"I have one more piece of news that ought to be given, and then I will seek my bed." He took a deep breath and met her eyes.

"Bar Jan chel'Gaibin challenged me to a duel on Port Chavvy . . ."

She met his eyes calmly.

"Did you kill your man, my son?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did, but not in the way you mean. In the simplest telling, I shattered his arm. He was alive and on his way to reconstructive surgery at the planetside hospital. I was at his bedside, to translate, when his mother came in, and . . . declared him dead. She emptied his pockets and . . . left him there." He took a breath, keeping his eyes on hers. "He had his valet with him."

He hesitated.

His mother entered the small gap in the conversation.

"
The Gazette
reports the death of Bar Jan chel'Gaibin, upon an outworld. It is said that Infreya will raise the next younger to nadelm, but there has been no announcement. It might do well to find from your partner if he has expectations in that direction."

"Yes, ma'am. I wrote Tan Sim about Bar Jan's death, since I . . . and I asked if he had any new plans."

"That is well done. But there was something else you wished to say on this topic, I think."

He took a breath. The Scout had warned him that, culturally, Bar Jan, being
cast out
, was even deader, if that was possible, than he would have been if Jethri had killed him outright. No proper Liaden would attempt to aid such a dead man. Jethri's answer to that was, in this, he was Terran. He had done what he had done, and the Scout had said no more.

Norn ven'Deelin, though, was a proper Liaden, and though he didn't see how he could have acted in any other way, knowing what he knew, and bearing the responsibility that . . .

"Speak, my child."

"Yes, ma'am. I made--in Bar Jan's name--I made an application to the Distressed Travelers Fund."

She considered him for a long moment before she inclined her head.

"We of the clans, we embrace our customs, and hold them close. This one . . ."

She sighed.

"When I was your age, young Jethri, I had a favorite who styled herself a philosopher. Ah, the discussions we had on the loftiest topics imaginable! I can only think that such heights lent a certain savor to the wine. In any wise, she took the position that what dies, when one is cast out, is one's
melant'i
. It is of course possible to survive without
melant'i
though it is a difficult state, and those who do live so are to be pitied."

She sipped her wine, and raised the glass in a soft salute. "You have done well, my child; your
melant'i
increases.

"Now!" She rose, and he did.

"Seek your bed; rest. You are not yet on the schedule. Come to me when you are perfectly rested and we will review your necessities in balance with the ship's and consider how best to honor both."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and put his glass down on the table. He bowed then, affection for close kin, combined with obedience to a master.

She laughed, and waved her hand, sending him away.

Obedient, he turned--and at the door, he turned again.

"Mother."

"My child?"

"It's good," he said, "to be home."

END