Without a Front (39 page)

CHAPTER 61
Prisoner request

 

Despite her best intentions, Tal
didn't go to Hol-Opah the next morning. Her presence in the State House had resulted in a veritable line of people seeking an audience with her, and since she had been so rarely available over the past three ninedays, she couldn't justify leaving without giving them her time. Besides, she could often get a great deal done in a quick face-to-face meeting. Vidcom calls and messages could accomplish only so much; a personal encounter often took care of more business in less time.

After meeting with twelve different Councilors and seven advisors, she sighed in relief to see Aldirk walking into her office. “That's it, then? You're the last one?”

“As always.” Aldirk sat down, reader card in hand. “May I first extend my congratulations on an extremely effective speaking tour. Particularly your devastating use of a small child to trivialize the economist coalition.”

He was radiating…mirth. Tal couldn't recall the last time she had felt that from her always-serious chief counselor.

“Most of the news outlets thought that was a gift from Fahla herself,” Aldirk continued. “The coverage was more than thorough—I doubt there's an Alsean alive today who hasn't heard about the economists who weren't good enough.” He closed his eyes and laughed quietly. “Ah, that was the highlight of this cycle. Well done, Lancer Tal. Well done.”

“Thank you.” Tal was still recovering from the sight of Aldirk laughing. “I wish it hadn't been necessary, but the demonstrators in Blacksun and Redmoon convinced me that I had to hit back a little more firmly.”

“Indeed you did.” Aldirk was all business again and began going down his list. It seemed to have no end, and Tal gave up on getting to Hol-Opah by evenmeal.

Nearly a hantick passed before Aldirk announced that he had reached the final entry. “A prisoner in the Pit has requested an audience with you.”

“And this is important because…?” Not a moon went by without a prisoner in the Pit asking for an audience. Incarceration there often meant the prisoner was beyond any option of release other than a state pardon, which only Tal could give. She hadn't given many of them.

“Because this particular prisoner was the ringleader in the Whitemoon smuggling case. He has informed the prison guards that we did not capture the most powerful person involved.”

“And he's willing to trade his information for a pardon? Absolutely not.”

“He didn't ask for a pardon, merely a transfer to an aboveground facility.” Aldirk paused. “He indicated that his information might lead us to a highly placed individual. Lancer Tal, if our investigation left the most responsible person free, we have an obligation to pursue this. Other high empaths may be at risk of recruitment.”

Tal sighed. “Call Colonel Razine and have her send one of her investigators to speak with the prisoner. If his information plays out, I'll authorize a transfer.”

“If it were possible to delegate this, I would have already done so. The prisoner will speak with no one but you.”

“Why?”

Aldirk looked troubled. “He states that the responsible party is too powerful and will suppress his information if it's given to anyone else.”

The office was dead silent. At last Tal said, “He's going to point to a Councilor. It would take that level of power to control an AIF investigation. Which means it's almost certainly a warrior, since criminal investigations are our caste responsibility.”

“That's what I'm afraid of as well.”

“Spawn of a fantenshekken!” Tal stood abruptly, pushing back her chair. “This is the last thing we need! I've just spent three days rebuilding the people's trust in this government; a corruption case reaching all the way to the Council will undermine everything. Dammit, why now?”

“Better now than never,” Aldirk said. “If we have a corrupt Councilor, then he or she must be found and removed immediately.”

“Is that prisoner in a protection cell?”

Aldirk checked his notes. “Yes, he was placed there two days ago.”

“Good. Make the preparations and inform Colonel Micah. Send me all the records on our informant. I'll go to the Pit tomorrow after midmeal.”

“May I assume that you will be staying in Blacksun tonight, then?”

“You may not. If there's nothing else, I'm leaving for Granelle.”

“Lancer Tal, may I remind you that there have been demonstrations against you and one actual attack. Until we know for sure that your safety is not in jeopardy, it would be wiser for you to stay here.”

“That wasn't an attack. Really, an old woman trying to throw a picture frame at me? As for the demonstrations, one of them was right here. I'm probably safer in Granelle.”

With a sigh that was clearly meant to be heard, Aldirk made a note on his reader card and slipped it in its case. “Very well. I'll tell First Pilot Thornlan to prepare your long-distance transport tomorrow morning.”

“Poor Thornlan.” Tal shook her head. “She just got home.”

“So did you.”

Not quite yet, she thought.

CHAPTER 62
Alliance honored

 

“Aldirk isn't happy,” Tal said
as she made a tiny course adjustment. She and Micah were in her personal transport, less than five ticks away from Hol-Opah, and her yearning was growing stronger the closer she got.

“What else is new?” Micah asked. “Let me guess. He's not happy about you returning to ‘that useless little farm.'”

Tal chuckled. “Well, he didn't put it quite that way. This time. But he made it clear that he thinks I should stay in Blacksun.”

“I must admit, I'd be a great deal more comfortable if you did. I can protect you far better at Blacksun Base. But it would be a strategic mistake to retreat.”

“And it would send a very poor message. If I'm seen as afraid to go out among the people, it would bring everything I've been saying into question. Besides, I'm not in the habit of letting a tiny fraction of the population dictate my actions.”

“You're not in the habit of letting anyone dictate your actions.”

“That's not true.” She glanced at him. “I listen to you. On occasion.”

He snorted. “‘On occasion' being the operative phrase.”

“Now, Micah, you know how much I value your
professional
advice.” She waited for him to take the bait.

“Good. Then you will value the fact that I've doubled your guard.”

“You what! You added ten Guards? Where in Fahla's name will Salomen put them? Did you tell her? Damn, she's going to be—”

“—pleased that I'm taking proper precautions to keep you safe,” Micah finished. “I already called and informed her. The new Guards will fit in the current barracks with a little rearranging of cots. I sent them over along with the additional food and supplies this morning.”

Tal deflated. “Oh. Then I'd better know the details. Who did you send?”

By the time Micah had gone through his list of Guards and explained their duty rotation, Tal was landing the transport behind the house. They had a welcoming committee of three Guards and the entire Opah family, which put a permanent smile on Tal's face. This was a new and very pleasant feeling.

Salomen ran up to her as soon as she emerged from the transport. For a moment Tal thought she was going to give her a warmron in front of everyone, but she stopped short and held up her palm.

Tal met it and interlaced their fingers. “It's so good to see you. Sorry we arrived so late; there was a lot to attend to at the State House.”

“I care only that you're here now. Fahla, but I missed you. We have so much to talk about.” With an abrupt shift in her emotions, Salomen added, “We had an…event here while you were gone. Please don't be upset when you hear about it. I didn't want to tell you while you had so much else to think about.”

“What happened?”

“Later.” Salomen let go of her hand to reach for Micah.

“Well met,” Micah said. “Did we make it in time for evenmeal?”

Salomen smiled. “And this is your first thought after nearly four days away?”

“True warriors think with their stomachs. Mine is rumbling.”

“Then you'll be happy to know we waited for you. Let's feed the monsters in those bellies.”

Tal and Micah turned to greet the rest of the family, touching palms with Shikal first, as was his due, then his sons. The welcome Tal felt from Salomen, Shikal, and Nikin brought back pleasant memories of coming home to her parents. Then she touched palms with Herot, and the sizzle of anger emanating from him drove out all prior warmth.

“Lancer Tal,” he said in a barely polite tone.

“Herot,” she answered. “Is the running growing easier?”

The flicker of surprise showed in his eyes. “Somewhat, yes,” he said.

“That's good to hear.” She nodded at him and stepped over to Jaros, who was waiting with such impatience that she was surprised he could even stand still. He had kept his head down while she and Micah were greeting his elders, and though Tal had noticed, she hadn't had time to wonder why. Then she crouched down in front of him and he raised his head, giving her a shock that strained her front.

“Oh, Jaros,” she breathed. “What happened?”

A lopsided smile lit his bruised face. “I defended you.”

She reached out to gently touch the purple skin around his eye and the welts on his swollen cheek ridges. Even the poor boy's lip was split; he had been in a true fight. “Against whom? Who did this to you?”

“Some of the older boys at school. They followed me part of the way home yesterday and were saying bad things about you. I told them they were fant—I mean, idiots, and that you were the greatest Lancer Alsea has ever had, and they started hitting me.” He drew himself up proudly. “I didn't run, Lancer Tal. A warrior never runs from battle. I hit back as many times as I could.”

“How many were there?” Tal had to work to keep her voice calm.

“Three. They were from the sixth level.”

Three boys ganging up on a child two cycles younger. The rising rage threatened to choke off her throat. “You fought this battle for me?”

He nodded, glowing with his achievement. “We're allies. I couldn't let them insult you.”

She carefully focused her front, then held up her palm. He met it and smiled as much as his split lip allowed; she was sending all of her pride in him. “You did very well, Jaros. I honor your courage.”

She hadn't thought his spine could get any straighter, but he managed to stand even taller. “Thank you, Lancer Tal.”

“And as your ally, I will not allow this to go unanswered.”

His excitement grew. “What will you do?”

At the moment, she was thinking about ordering Micah to round up those boys so that she could invite all three of them to show her just how brave they were, but that probably wasn't the best idea. “I must discuss it with your father and Salomen. Just know that you will not fight this battle alone.” She dropped her hand and prepared to stand, but something in his eyes stopped her. On instinct she opened her arms, smiling as he threw himself into the warmron. A surge of protective emotion startled her with its intensity; then she realized that only part of it was hers. Looking up, she met Salomen's eyes. “So this was the event,” she said quietly.

Salomen nodded just as Jaros released his hold and looked up at his sister. “Can we eat now?” he asked.

She ruffled his hair. “Yes, we can.”

As the family trooped toward the porch steps, Salomen spoke for Tal's ears alone. “We kept him home from school today. He was too afraid, though he would die if he thought you knew that. And the soreness has set in as well. We've been keeping it under control with a light dose of paincounters. But what helped him the most was when Father mentioned at mornmeal how proud you would be of him. After that it was as if he'd never been hurt at all; he's been floating off the ground waiting for you to come back. He made all of us promise that we would let him be the one to tell you when you arrived.”

“I'm very proud of him. And so angry I could chew solid rock.” Tal glanced at her. “You've become quite accomplished at partial fronting. You must be just as angry, but it doesn't show.”

“That's good to know. I've been working hard to make sure Jaros doesn't sense it; he doesn't need that from me. But you're right. When he came home yesterday in tears, with blood running down his face… Let's just say that for a few moments I wished for your disruptor.”

Tal let their hands brush as they mounted the steps. “Then perhaps it was a good thing I was still in Whitemoon. I might have given it to you.”

CHAPTER 63
Not family

 

“Who are these boys?” Tal
asked.

Shikal and Micah had retired to the parlor for their usual after-evenmeal drink, but this time everyone except Jaros had accompanied them. Though he had tried his best to be in on the family council, neither Shikal nor Salomen were moved by his pleas. He was now in his room, finishing homework.

“We don't know,” Shikal said. “They're two levels ahead of Jaros in school. He's seen them enough to know what level they're in, but not their names. If I knew who they were, I would already have spoken to their parents. I cannot believe any reasonable parent would stand for their child ganging up on anyone, much less a smaller child.”

“Why would they bully Jaros now?” Micah wondered. “Lancer Tal has been here for three ninedays without a problem. Is this because of the demonstrations? Or the woman in Whitesun?”

“No.” Salomen put her glass down beside her chair. “I think it's because of Gordense Bilsner's big mouth. He has a cause, and he's putting all of his considerable hot air into it. The caste house meeting was just the beginning. I'm told that he's been holding court in the tavern where most of the landholders go, continuing where he left off after that meeting. And, unfortunately, with no one present to speak on the side of reason. I didn't even know about it until today. Some of our field workers were there last night and spoke against Bilsner, but their opinions were discounted because of their rank.”

“Is he speaking tonight?” Micah's tone of voice left no doubt that he was hoping the answer was yes.

“No,” Nikin said. “The mood has shifted since Lancer Tal's speech in Whitemoon. I was in town today and spoke with several friends; they all said the same thing. The message is getting to people, and they're not so willing to listen to Bilsner.”

“I want to know what you're going to do about it.” Herot was looking at Tal with undisguised resentment.

“Herot,” Shikal said in a weary voice.

“No, Father. We all have the right to know. Jaros was beaten because
she
lives here. Why is she coming back?” He turned back to Tal. “Don't you have somewhere else to be? Haven't you brought enough trouble to our family?”

“Herot Arrin Opah! You will not speak that way to a guest of our house!” Shikal's weariness had vanished; there was fire in his eyes as he glared at his son. “And how dare you lay the blame at the Lancer's feet when you yourself were beating up on your brother not even a nineday past! Yes, I know about it,” he added as Herot looked away. “I also know it was Lancer Tal who stopped you. So you can put up your hypocritical concern for tonight. I won't hear any part of it.”

“And I don't need to hear this.” Herot jumped from his chair. “No matter what happens, you're on her side. Jaros gets beaten because of her, and instead of asking her to stay away, you invite her to our council. I give Jaros a little push because he stole from me, and suddenly that's my fault and she gets credit for ‘stopping me.' But when she beats up on me, nobody gives a dokshin. Talk about hypocrisy—this family is drowning in it!”

“Sit down!” Shikal roared. “We all know what you said to earn your reminder of manners. If you had any sense at all, you wouldn't bring up your own shame. But you are not walking away this time. This is a family council, and you are a member of this family.”

“But she is not!” Herot pointed at Tal, then Micah. “Neither is he! If they are to be included in this
family
council, then I will excuse myself.”

As he stomped away, Tal met Shikal's eyes and raised her eyebrows. He gave her one short nod.

Herot made it all of four steps before Tal was on top of him, spinning him around and twisting his arm behind him in one movement. She marched him back to his chair, pushed him into it, and held him in place.

“I may not be a member of this family, but I will not sit idly by and watch you disrespect your father any more than I would allow you to disrespect your sister. How can you treat Shikal so poorly when he is the only parent you have left?”

He looked past her to his father. “And will you sit idly by and let her treat me this way?”

“Certainly I will. I asked her to.”

“You what?” He was so shocked that Tal felt him slump under her hands.

“I no longer have the physical strength to discipline you,” Shikal said. “When a man reaches my age, he expects that his children have matured beyond the necessity of physical discipline. He expects that a lifetime of love and nurturing will have earned him, if not love, at least respect in return. You appear to find me unworthy of either.”

“Father, I—”

“You walk away,” Shikal interrupted loudly, “when anyone in this family attempts to tell you something that might be good for you to hear. You abuse your younger brother because he's too small to fight back. You abandon the friends of a lifetime and take up with the worst dregs of Granelle. And you insult guests of our house, here in the very room where your mother graciously received so many. She would be horrified, ashamed, and so—” He swallowed hard before continuing quietly, “so sad to see what you have become. She would grieve for her son. As I grieve for my son. And if it requires someone outside this family to hold you down so that you will actually stay and listen to what I have to say, then so be it. I am not ashamed to ask. I'm only ashamed that it's necessary.”

The room was silent. Herot looked from his father to his sister, then stared at his lap. “You can let me go,” he muttered. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Tal opened her senses, testing his intentions. No, he wasn't going to run. For a brief moment, she could sense his shame and a deep, pained regret; Shikal's words had reached him. But the humiliation at being lectured so severely in front of witnesses rose up to overwhelm those deeper feelings, and soon Tal felt nothing but a familiar anger. She released her hold and sat back in her chair.

Though everyone in the room was watching Herot, he refused to look up. At last he asked, “Aren't we supposed to be talking about Jaros?”

It was Salomen who answered, her voice just as weary as Shikal's had been earlier. “Two of our family are in trouble, Herot, not just one. We're here to help you as well, but you hold us outside. We can't do anything until you let us in. We all lost her, not just you. We know how hard it is.”

He lifted his head then, his expression scornful. “I don't need your help. And even if I did, I certainly wouldn't ask in front of
her
. She doesn't belong here.”

“Our brother has spoken,” Nikin said in exasperation. “With his usual rudeness and lack of grace. Shall we get back to the brother we can help, then?”

After an awkward pause, Micah said, “If Jaros cannot name the boys, we have no way of assuring that they won't repeat their attack. Perhaps the best response is to make sure he can convince them of their folly should they return.”

“What do you mean?” Shikal asked.

“It would be a matter of one, perhaps two days of concentrated effort to teach him enough to send them running. Jaros does not lack in courage or determination. And a boy trained to fight can easily hold his own against three bullies relying on their size and weight alone. Most likely he would only need to bloody the nose of one before all three gave up and ran.”

“Absolutely not,” said Salomen. “He's already fantasizing about a change of caste, but that will probably pass in time if it's not encouraged. Training him to fight will only add fuel to his fantasies.”

“Then what do we do?” Nikin asked. “Send him back to school so he can get beaten up again?”

“I could walk him there,” Shikal suggested. “And pick him up at the end of the day.”

“For how long? Father, you cannot escort Jaros every day for the rest of the school cycle. Not only is it not practical, I don't believe he would allow it. He'd be embarrassed.”

“True,” said Herot. “There's nothing worse than being publicly treated like a child.”

Everyone ignored him.

“There must be a better solution than either escorting him or teaching him to fight,” Salomen said. “We need to find out who these boys were and deal with this problem at the source.”

“I can help with that,” said Tal.

“How?”

“You have some of the most talented and highly trained empaths in the world right here on your holding. My personal Guards are chosen in part for their empathic strength. If you could arrange it with the school's head scholar, it would be a fairly simple matter to have a Guard walk into the sixth level classes with Jaros tomorrow. Unless his attackers are astonishingly gifted, they won't be able to hide their reaction at seeing Jaros and a uniformed Lancer's Guard in their class. Any of my Guards would be able to pinpoint that in an instant.”

“And then I could speak with their parents,” Shikal said.

“If I may, Shikal…” Tal was smiling at the idea forming in her head.

“You have another suggestion?”

“Leaving the discipline in the hands of the parents is likely to result in three different punishments, unless the parents coordinate. I would prefer they all receive the same punishment. Together.”

“And you have something specific in mind.” Micah knew her well.

She grinned at him. “It so happens that I have to visit the Pit tomorrow after midmeal. What better way to teach three young boys the consequences of bullying and violence than to show them the worst place it can lead to?”

Nikin whistled. “That would do it. Damn, that would scare me out of last night's evenmeal.”

“We would need the parents to agree,” said Shikal. “But…I like the idea. It would certainly be an eye-opener for those three.”

“I like it too,” Salomen said. “It would put a swift end to this bullying, and most likely stop any of the other children from having similar brilliant ideas.”

“What kind of parent would agree to sending their child to the Pit?” asked Herot. “There are things that no child should see.”

“What the children see is entirely dependent on what I choose to show them,” said Tal. “I'll scare them, not scar them. And as for your first question, the kind of parents who would allow this are those who wish their children to learn honor.”

Her implication was clear to everyone in the room, and Herot's cheeks reddened. “I just hope you don't set Jaros up as a target for the rest of his schooling by making him so obviously the Lancer's pet project.”

“He is not my pet project. He's an ally who showed great courage in defending my name. I am therefore required to defend him as well, and I'll be happy to make that clear to these boys as I escort them through the Pit. I'm sure the news will travel.”

“I think it's an excellent idea,” said Nikin. “For the record, I approve.”

“As do I,” Salomen said.

“And I appreciate your assistance, Lancer Tal.” Shikal inclined his head. “Thank you for being so generous with your time and your staff.”

“No thanks are necessary. Herot is right about one thing: this happened because of my presence here. I have an obligation to set it right.”

“But you would do it whether you had an obligation or not.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then I will still offer my gratitude.”

“I see my vote doesn't count,” said Herot.

“Of course it does,” said Salomen. “What do you say?”

Everyone looked at Herot expectantly. He opened his mouth, then shook his head. “It doesn't matter what I say. You'll all do what Lancer Tal says anyway.”

“No, we will all gratefully accept Lancer Tal's offer of assistance, which is an entirely different thing.”

Herot made a dismissive gesture. “Since everyone has decided, is the meeting over?”

“The council is finished,” Shikal said. “Now we are merely enjoying an after-evenmeal drink. Would you like a refill?”

“No thanks.” Herot rose. “I prefer to drink with friends.”

Tal found it sad that everyone in the room relaxed as soon as he was gone. What a terrible testament to a man's character, she thought, that the greatest enjoyment he could bring his family was to leave them alone.

“The arrangements with the parents must be made tomorrow morning,” she told Shikal. “I'll send Gehrain to school with Jaros. They'll need to arrive early to give Gehrain time to procure permission from the head scholar, but I don't foresee any difficulty with that. Gehrain should have names within a quarter hantick, and at that point you'll need to make a few visits.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

A low rumble of laughter drew their attention to Micah. Smiling broadly, he asked, “Can I be the one to tell Gehrain he's going to school?”