Without a Front (19 page)

CHAPTER 33
Bossy

 

Micah knew something was off
the moment Salomen Opah came into the dining room. In all of his interactions with her, she had been supremely confident and outspoken, but this evening it was as if the light inside her had dimmed.

Fortunately, Jaros had not yet run out of questions even after three meals of asking, so there was no lack of conversation. Tal had to reassure his siblings that no, she wasn't tired of answering.

“So you get to tell everyone what to do?” Jaros wanted to know. “And they have to do it, right?”

“If only it were that simple. There are laws far older than you or I which bind all of us, including me. I can order some people around, but not everyone, and I'm limited in what I can ask for.”

Jaros frowned as he reached for a biscuit. “Then why be Lancer if you can't tell everyone what to do?”

Good question, Micah thought. That would certainly make both of their jobs easier.

“If someone wanted to harm your holding or your family, would you allow it?” Tal asked.

He bristled. “I would make them sorry they ever had the thought!”

“I feel exactly the same way about Alsea. Your holding is Hol-Opah; mine is Alsea. Your family sits here in this room; mine is the population of our world. I love Alsea, and it's my duty to keep her whole and safe and productive. That's why I'm Lancer.” A smile crossed her face as she added, “But it
is
nice to be able to tell people what to do. Sometimes they have to do it.”

Jaros smiled back as he chewed. “So you—”

“Jaros,” interrupted Salomen, “do
not
speak until you have swallowed.”

He instantly swallowed an enormous amount of food, and Micah winced.

“So you're like Salomen,” he said as soon as he could get his mouth open. “She's the head of our family. You're like her, but head of Alsea.”

“That's exactly right.”

“But you're not as bossy as she is.”

Micah snorted, and Tal shot him a glare.

“She certainly is,” Salomen said. “You just haven't seen it yet, Jaros.”

Tal leaned toward the boy. “I am not,” she whispered, and he grinned.

The rest of the meal went by relatively quickly, though there was a difficult moment when Jaros announced that he wanted to be a warrior and Salomen informed him that he most certainly would not. Tal answered many more questions about her role as Lancer, eventually turning the conversation toward the holding itself. Micah learned more than he could have wished about its crops, operations, and market transport, though most of the information came from Shikal and his sons. Salomen was still quiet, and he knew her family noticed. They were curious and concerned, but would not speak of the matter in front of the Lancer and her Chief Guardian.

Tal didn't linger at the table, excusing them as soon as she could politely do so. Micah rose with her and was pushing in his chair when Salomen spoke up.

“Just a moment, Lancer Tal. Today's mornmeal was later than normal since it was a free day. Tomorrow we're back to our regular work routine, and Jaros has to go to school, so we'll be having mornmeal a hantick after sunrise, at morn-two.” She gave Tal a look of pure challenge and added, “I apologize if that's too early for you.”

“No apology necessary,” Tal said. “I'll have finished my daily run by then and will be more than ready for a good mornmeal. Thank you.”

Micah exchanged his goodnights with the family and followed Tal up the stairs, mulling over that look on Salomen's face. The woman had been quiet all through the meal, and she lit up only when she could challenge Tal?

“I'm revising my opinion,” he said as they approached Tal's room. “I thought this assignment would be an enormous headache, but instead it shows much promise. I'll enjoy watching the battle.”

“It's a challenge, not a battle.” Tal opened her door and stepped through.

That wasn't what she had said last moon, but he knew better than to mention it. Leaning in the doorway, he said, “Why does she dislike you so intensely? You must have done something special to earn it.”

“I've done nothing but my duty. She apparently has a different definition of my duty and will not forgive me for not performing to her expectations.”

“Then you
have
earned her ire. And I suspect it will only get worse.” Chuckling, he added, “I'm fortunate to have the best tickets in the house.”

“Don't be too satisfied with your seats. You might find yourself injured by an ill-aimed weapon, namely Salomen's tongue.”

“Oh, I think not. Raiz Opah has extremely good aim, and she seems to have found a particular target. I'm feeling quite safe.”

Tal smiled as she picked up her reader card. “Ever hear of friendly fire?” She unrolled the reader card and tapped it once, her smile falling instantly.

“That must be from Aldirk,” Micah said. His own reaction to this ridiculous challenge had been a baby's fart compared to Aldirk's eruption. The only way Tal had calmed him down was by agreeing to regular meetings during the next moon, and the first was in two days. Aldirk was not about to let her stop being Lancer just because she had decided to be a field worker.

She looked up at him in despair. “Twelve reports, Micah. Twelve!”

He made a show of looking at his wristcom. “That gives you just enough time to finish them before your next attempt to impress Raiz Opah. Really, a run tomorrow? When I could barely get you out of bed today?”

She groaned. “I don't know what I was thinking. She just gets to me.”

“There are probably a hundred and eighty councilors who would pay her for her secret. I've never seen you fall into a trap so easily.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I might pay her for it, too.”

He laughed as the door shut in his face.

CHAPTER 34
The knife and the sword

 

The Guards who greeted Tal
for her morning run looked somewhat worse for wear. As they set off along the route that had already been scouted, she glanced at Gehrain. “Tiles last night?”

He grimaced, then nodded. “It won't affect our performance.”

“Of course not.” She was feeling quite a bit better this morning, thanks to another night of sleeping like the dead. Too bad her Guards hadn't been smart enough to have their party a day earlier.

“I had hoped to extend my usual run this morning,” she began. The total dismay of every Guard taxed her ability to keep a straight face. “…but I must be at mornmeal on time or risk verbal annihilation. So I'll be content with the route we planned.”

A collective relief flooded her empathic senses.

“The next best thing is to run the route at a faster pace, don't you agree?” she finished.

“Yes, Lancer,” Gehrain groaned.

She smiled and put on a burst of speed.

Tal felt a great sense of satisfaction at Salomen's surprise when she strolled into the dining room, alert and freshly bathed. She sniffed the air with appreciation.

“Good morning. Is that fanten?”

“Yes, we raise them for ourselves. You won't find a fresher cut anywhere.”

“Excellent! I adore fanten.” Tal poured herself a cup of shannel and sat across from Salomen, savoring the refreshing scent wafting off the hot drink. After her run, she could use its energy-giving properties. “Your holding is beautiful and very well cared for. I ran the south border this morning.”

“Which part?”

For a moment Tal didn't understand the question. Then she smiled. “All of it. It was a little short for my normal run, but I wanted to be sure I'd be at mornmeal on time.”

“You ran the entire south border,” Salomen repeated blankly. “That's eight lengths.”

“Mm-hm.” Tal sipped her shannel and closed her eyes as the flavor burst through her mouth. The first sip of shannel was always a bit of a jolt. “Those molwyn trees are gorgeous, and I saw a spearfisher in the river, teaching its young how to fish. What a way to start the day.”

Any reply Salomen might have made was preempted by the noisy arrival of Jaros.

“Lancer Tal!” He bounded into the room and happily pulled out the chair next to hers. “I saw you from my window, coming up our road. She runs with five Guards,” he informed Salomen.

“Yes, I know.” Salomen was far less impressed, but she smiled as her brother gazed up at Tal with worshipful eyes.

“Are those Guards the fastest in all Alsea? Is that why they run with you?”

“No, they run with me for my protection.”

He frowned. “You don't need protection. You're the most powerful warrior on Alsea.”

“But I'm not immune to physical harm. Not all Alseans agree with my policies, and some of them feel Alsea would be better served with another in my place. So they seek to remove me.”

“They cannot,” Jaros said stoutly. “We learned in school that the Lancer's term ends in one of three ways: resignation, a caste coup, or a…” He thought for a moment. “A vote of no something.”

“A vote of no confidence,” Tal said, hiding her amusement.

“That's what I meant. But my teacher says the warrior caste supports you, so there can't be a caste coup. And he says that if there wasn't a vote of no confidence after you broke Fahla's covenant, it won't happen now. So you can't be removed.” He sat back, proud of his grasp of civics.

Tal felt a burst of affection for this boy who was so happy to have her in his house. “You've obviously paid attention in class.”

A secondary pride filtered through as Salomen said, “He always does. Jaros leads his class.”

Jaros straightened his shoulders and attempted to look modest, but his emotions had all the unfronted strength of most children his age.

“You have the right to be proud,” Tal said. “Knowledge is what separates those who do from those who don't. But there is one more means of removal than the three you learned about. It's called assassination.”

“Assassi…assassination?”

Salomen's concern was sharp, and Tal met her eyes.

“He hosts the Lancer in his home. He should know.”

“Know what?” Jaros's attention bounced between them.

After a pause, Salomen gave a reluctant nod.

“Assassination means murder,” Tal explained. “Usually for political reasons. The Guards run with me to prevent that from happening.”

“But why would anyone want to kill you?” he asked with wide eyes. “Salomen says Alsea has never been so prosperous as it has been under your rule. She says you're the best leader Alsea has had in generations, and that no one else could have saved us from the Voloth.”

Salomen shook her head. “Jaros, saying anything to you is like alerting the media.”

“It is not!”

“I appreciate his honesty.” Tal smiled at her hostess, whose cheeks were slightly pink. “It's refreshing to hear the full truth.”

Salomen ignored the emphasis on
full
and addressed her brother. “Lancer Tal is a good leader, it's true. But no matter how good any leader is, there will always be some who disagree with the government. And of those who disagree, there will always be a few who are willing to kill for their beliefs. So Lancer Tal can never just run on the public road like you and me. She has to have Guards.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“No, it doesn't,” said Tal. “But it's life, and we must simply accept it and find ways to work around it.”

“And Lancer Tal is very good at that.” Micah had just arrived. “She simplifies my professional life with her easy acceptance of this less enjoyable aspect of her title.”

Now it was Tal's turn to look discomfited while Salomen smiled broadly. Jaros plowed ahead with more questions from his seemingly inexhaustible supply.

“So you always have Guards? No matter what you do or where you are? Do you have Guards in your bedroom?”

“No!” Tal said quickly. She shot an evil look at Micah, who had not quite managed to suppress his chuckle, and continued, “I can move freely in my home and here in yours. But only because I have Guards outside who make sure no unauthorized person can enter. That's why you had to tell your friends that they couldn't drop by this moon. They have to go through the Guards first.”

“Oh.” Jaros poured a glass of juice and drank it with a pensive air.

“Jaros,” said Salomen as she rose, “why don't you pour juices for the Lancer and Colonel Micah, and I'll bring breakfast to the table.”

Micah rose with her. “May I assist?”

“Thank you, Colonel, but it's plain that your duties leave you very little time for relaxation. While you're my guest, you should relax at least within the confines of my house.”

The words were gracious and well-spoken, but Salomen had clearly understood every nuance of Micah's comment regarding his professional life. She swept from the room, and Micah sat with a twinkle in his eye.

“At last, a little sympathy,” he said.

“Drink your juice, Micah.” Tal pushed the glass over to him. “At least I have an ally in Jaros.”

Jaros looked up. “What's an ally?”

“A friend who will support me when I need assistance.”

“Oh!” He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I will.” He finished pouring the second glass and handed it to her. She thanked him and took a taste, swallowing hastily when the next question came. “Does that mean you're my ally too?”

“Yes, I am.” Never in her political life had Tal been so certain of the sincerity of an ally. “If you ever need help, call me or Colonel Micah.”

“Thank you, Lancer Tal. And if you ever need help, you must call me as well.”

Tal put on a properly serious expression. “Thank you, my friend. I will.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Tal sensed Herot's arrival. She gave Micah a knowing look just before the young man walked into the room. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was wearing nicer clothes than Tal would have expected for someone who would be working in the fields after mornmeal.

“Good morning.” Herot graced her with an easy grin as he sat next to Jaros. After pouring himself a juice, he reached over and pulled the plate of biscuits from beneath Jaros's hand just as the boy was reaching for one.

“Hey!”

“Wait your turn.” Herot took his time selecting a biscuit before handing the plate back, and Tal did a slow burn.

“Herot, why in Fahla's name are you wearing that shirt?” Salomen reentered the room, followed closely by Nikin. As the two eldest children, they held the responsibility of bringing the food to the table. It was an ancient tradition that had fallen into disuse in many city families, but it felt right at Hol-Opah.

“The others were dirty,” Herot said.

Tal glanced at Salomen to see if she could sense the obvious lie.

“You will not impress the Lancer by ruining a dress shirt in the field. Go upstairs and change.” Salomen didn't even look at him as she set two aromatic platters on the table and pulled out her chair. Nikin put two bowls down and took his own seat with a tiny smile on his face.

That answered that question, Tal thought. Trust Salomen to show no tact whatsoever. She almost felt sorry for Herot, who pushed his chair back with a baleful glare at his sister and went stomping up the stairs.

“Please excuse Herot's…enthusiasm, Lancer Tal.” A warm smile wreathed Salomen's face just before she turned her head. “Good morning, Father.”

“Good morning.” Shikal dropped a kiss onto her upturned cheek before taking his seat at the head of the table. “Good morning, Lancer Tal…Colonel Micah.” He smiled at Tal. “I saw you returning from your run this morning. You move like one who knows the winden.”

“Thank you. I've always loved to run, even as a child. It helps me order my thoughts.”

Shikal nodded. “For that, I go fishing.”

“You would fish no matter what order your thoughts were in,” Salomen said, but the affection in her tone negated any sharpness in her words.

Tal studied her in fascination. Salomen had gradually relaxed at their meals, last night's evenmeal notwithstanding, and Tal was beginning to see a whole new side of her. In their delegate meetings, she had freely acknowledged Salomen's obvious intelligence and strength of mind, but the woman's unyielding stubbornness, abrasive personality, and ill-concealed distaste for Tal's decisions had led to an instinctive antagonism that she hadn't worked very hard to overcome.

In her home, surrounded by family, Salomen was a different person. Her face was transformed by a loving smile as she teased her father, and Tal opened her senses to fully appreciate the warmth that poured out of this unlikely source. Unfortunately, being so open meant that she was also treated to the full extent of Herot's sulking, self-pitying mood as he reentered the room, now in a worn work shirt. Even with that, she enjoyed the exposure to a family situation so different from her own and was sorry when the meal ended.

The two younger children cleared the table, and Tal noted that Herot managed to carry less than Jaros. She met Micah's eyes and saw his recognition as well.

Micah leaned closer. “Give me one nineday for proper training, and I would make him a different man.”

“By ‘different,' do you mean dead?”

“You have such little faith in me. I managed to train you, didn't I?”

“I came pre-trained. Your role was largely that of an observer.”

Micah's laugh drew the attention of everyone in the room, and he waved a hand at Tal. “Pardon me. The Lancer was testing the limits of my credulity.”

Tal grinned at him and felt a prickle of surprise from someone in the room. She turned her head just in time to catch Salomen watching her with a thoughtful expression. Then her hostess spoke to Jaros, who was getting ready to leave for school, and the feeling faded.

There was quite a bit of bustle getting Jaros out the door and the rest of the family to work, reminding Tal of a unit breaking camp and moving. Salomen informed her that today they would be harvesting grain and intimated that the change in routine would give her muscles a break. Tal ignored the gibe.

She soon found herself in a two-person skimmer, with Salomen driving them to the field currently under harvest. It was a quiet ride down the hill and toward the eastern border, and Tal made no effort to initiate conversation. After the morning's controlled chaos, she was enjoying a few moments of peace before the day's labor began.

When they arrived at the field, her Guards were already there, looking out of place in their uniforms as they patrolled the perimeter. The previous two days she had been buried in tall vines and hadn't seen them, but today their presence was all too obvious. She called Micah on her wristcom and asked him to provide the Guards with something a bit less conspicuous, and at midmeal they suddenly took on the appearance of field workers. Tal nodded in satisfaction at Micah's efficiency.