LC03 Shield's Lady

  Lord Jasso waved that aside. “This is no time for false modesty. Sariana, you are living in my household. As a member of it you are entitled to my protection.” He shot a defiant glance at Gryph who ignored it. “But if no law has been broken, then I must assume that you are, indeed, married to this Shield. Did you go with him willingly last night or did he take you by force?”

  Sariana wanted to scream. She felt as if she were caught in a nightmare. She jerked her gaze from Jasso’s concerned expression to Gryph’s implacable face.

  “Answer him, Sariana. But see to it that you answer him honestly,” Gryph said calmly. “Because if you try to lie, I will force the truth out of you. Believe me, I can do it.”

  Sariana took a step back toward the door. “You have all gone out of your minds. I don’t understand any of this.”

  Lady Avylyn looked at her with compassion. “Just tell us the truth, Sariana. It is very important.”

  “He did not rape me, if that’s what you want to know.” Sariana put a hand to her throat, wondering if she was losing her voice. It sounded so faint. “But I never agreed to marry him.”

  Lord Avylyn shook his head helplessly. “Don’t you see, Sariana? You already are married to him. You proved it a few moments ago when you opened his weapon kit. Everyone knows that only a true Shieldmate can open her lord’s weapon kit. The prisma locks are sealed to everyone else. A Shield gives the secret to his wife on their wedding night. It is the proof of their bond when she opens the kit the next morning in front of witnesses. Under Pact law, you are married.”

  “No,” Sariana said, feeling as though the walls were closing in around her. “This Pact law, whatever it is, is a western law. I am an easterner. Do you understand? I am an easterner.”

  Lord Avylyn looked at her sorrowfully. “I am sorry, my dear. But as long as you are living with us, you are subject to our laws and ways. You know that.”

  Sariana whirled around and fled as if all the terrors of the western frontiers were at her heels.

  Chapter

  8

  SARIANA ran toward the only source of comfort and rationality she knew in a world that seemed to be turning upside down. By the time she reached the wide, carved doors of Etion’s bank, she was breathing hard. Before going in she forced herself to stop and draw several deep breaths.

  No one had much noticed a harried looking woman making her way through the streets of Serendipity, but once inside the bank she would draw unwanted attention to herself if she didn’t calm down and appear a little less frantic.

  The last thing Sariana wanted to do was embarrass herself or Etion. When she had caught her breath, she swept through the doors and into the building.

  The people of Serendipity carried on their banking with the same loud enthusiasm they applied to nearly every other activity. Rakken’s bank was no staid, solemn hall where business was conducted in hushed, reverent tones as would have been the case in the eastern provinces. Instead the building was full of lively, surprisingly organized employees who gossiped, argued and joked with their clients. As usual, there was color and drama everywhere, from the outrageous styles in clothing to the rather loud confrontations taking place at the loan desks.

  One of the secrets of Rakken’s success was that, unlike other easterners who had tried to conduct business in the west, he hadn’t attempted to impose eastern ways on his employees or his clients. As Etion had once explained to a newly arrived and thoroughly bewildered Sariana, one had to adapt in order to survive. For Etion, Sariana knew, there was no hope of going home. He had to make it here in Serendipity. He had adapted. Perhaps a little too much so judging by the way he had gone through the punch the night before.

  But then, she was in no position to make accusations in that regard, she reminded herself grimly. Just see where the indulgence in punch had landed her.

  She pushed her way through the mix of fashionably dressed people, her attention focused on reaching Etion’s office at the far end of the hall. He saw her through the glass windows that separated him from the activity on the floor and rose to greet her as Sariana walked purposefully past the receptionist.

  “Sariana. This is certainly a surprise. The luck of the day to you.” He examined her with a concerned frown. “Am I late for an appointment? If so, I sincerely apologize. I’ve been fighting the most nagging headache this morning.”

  Sariana stripped off her gloves and flung herself down into the nearest chair. “No, you have not missed an appointment. And don’t bother wishing me the luck of the day. This is very definitely not my lucky day.”

  Etion sat down slowly, as if he were afraid to move too quickly for fear of breaking some portion of his anatomy. He stared at her shoulder. “I see. Something is wrong, I gather? More trouble with the wild Avylyns?”

  “More trouble than I could ever have imagined,” Sariana said bitterly. “Etion, I need help and advice and I need both quickly.”

  “Of course. But Sariana, what have you got on your shoulder? It looks like a lizard.”

  Sariana glanced at the scarlet-toe. “It is. I forgot all about Lucky. Poor thing. It’s a wonder it didn’t fall off my shoulder while I was running through the streets. Never mind the lizard, Etion. It’s just a pet. Believe me, it’s the least of my problems.”

  Etion smiled gamely as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Calm down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so agitated, Sariana.”

  She flushed with embarrassment and made another bid for self-possession. “Please forgive me. I’ve just been through a very harrowing experience.”

  “Obviously. Suppose you tell me everything in slow, graphic sentences.”

  “It’s not funny, Etion. In fact, it could be a major disaster for me. It could ruin everything, including my future.” Unable to sit still, Sariana jumped to her feet and paced to the window. She stared unseeingly at the street outside. “Tell me something, Etion.”

  “Anything.”

  “What do you know about the Shield class?”

  He was silent for so long that Sariana finally glanced over her shoulder. Etion was staring at her in astonishment.

  “Well?” she prompted uneasily.

  He drew a breath and shrugged. “Not much, I’m afraid. It’s my understanding that there aren’t many Shields and that most of them live in the frontier provinces.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “I told you. Not much. The locals seem somewhat in awe of them. Very respectful. But they don’t discuss them very much. And Shields tend to keep to themselves for the most part. They’re not what you’d call gossipy. All I know is that they form a unique social class. One that operates under its own rules in certain regards. The other social classes appear willing to respect those rules. Something to do with a pact made during the First Generation. It’s all mixed up with a crazy western legend, I believe.”

  Sariana realized she was chewing on her lower lip, ready to burst into tears. Stay in control, she admonished herself. If she wasn’t very careful she would humiliate herself in front of Etion. She paced across the room and stared out the other window.

  “What do you know about this pact?”

  Etion sighed. “Again, not much. The locals don’t talk about it very much, but they seem to take it for granted. For a long time after I first heard about it I thought it was probably just another of their precious First Generation legends. You know how fond they are of them.”

  “I know,” Sariana said tightly. “Go on, Etion. Do you still think this business with the First Generation Pact is only a legend?”

  “If it is, it has the weight of law,” he said simply.

  “Law.” Sariana closed her eyes, fighting back panic. All her life she had been a law abiding citizen.

  “Sariana,” Etion said gently, “what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

 
“The Avylyns tell me I have gotten myself married to a Shield,” she admitted starkly.

  “Married.” Etion snapped to his feet behind the desk. He winced and massaged his head. “Married? To a Shield?”

  Sariana couldn’t bring herself to turn around and meet his gaze. Humiliation warred with desperation. “Etion I am so horribly embarrassed. I should never have come here, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Calm yourself, my dear.” He came up behind her and started to put his hands on her shoulders in a comforting grip. There was a small hiss and a rather nasty display of teeth from the scarlet-toe. Etion dropped his hands quickly. “Tell me exactly what has happened.”

  Sariana curled her fingers into small fists at her sides. She was on the verge of blurting out every last detail—including how and why she had hired a Shield for the Avylyns—but at the last instant she changed her mind. Etion didn’t need to know all the facts, only the most crucial ones.

  “It is all terribly simple. I…I had a little too much punch to drink at the Avylyns’ party last night and I wound up in bed with a Shield. This morning in front of the Prime Family of the Avylyn Clan he claimed I was his wife. They believed him.”

  “Prisma and light,” Etion swore heavily, his voice hoarse and startled.

  “I know.” She spun around, searching his face wildly for some sign of hope. “Is that really the way the law works here, Etion? Have I actually married the man?”

  Etion stared at her for a long moment. Then he moved away. He sank down onto the edge of his desk and picked up the beautifully chased little arithmograph he used for making calculations. His fingers absently played with the keys.

  “It’s possible,” Etion said at last.

  Sariana felt her last hope dissolving. She clung to her composure with all her waning strength. “Tell me what you know about this stupid pact.”

  “I’ve told you, I know very little about it. It’s unusual to run afoul of it. The Shields keep to themselves for the most part, but they apparently have a few unquestioned privileges. One of them is the right to seek a wife when and where they choose. They are not bound by traditional social class customs or laws when it comes to selecting their mates. The only rule I’ve ever heard, and that one’s rather fuzzy, is that the woman in question must be willing.”

  “But I am not willing.”

  Etion hesitated and then asked bluntly, “Not this morning, perhaps, but what about last night?”

  Sariana felt the jaws of a huge trap closing on her. “I didn’t realize what I was getting into. I thought I was getting involved in an affair, not marriage.”

  Etion was silent for another long moment. “It seems to me that there is something about the Shield having to provide proof of the marriage. Something to do with opening his weapon kit in front of witnesses.”

  Sariana winced. A stinging sensation in her palm made her realize she was digging her nails into her hand. “Yes.”

  “You did that, Sariana? You opened a Shield’s kit in front of witnesses?”

  “The entire assembled multitude of the Avylyn Dime Family.”

  “You have a problem, Sariana.”

  She whirled around to confront him. “I know that. The question is, how serious is it and how do I solve it?”

  Etion looked at her helplessly. He rubbed his temples again. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. As long as you are living in the west, you must abide by local law. You know that as well as I do.”

  “I’ll have to leave.” Sariana began to pace the room. “I’ll have to go home.”

  “Home to what?” Etion asked bluntly. “There’s nothing for you at home except a dead-end career and a marriage that offers considerably less potential than this one does.”

  Sariana’s head turned sharply. “Are you implying that my…my association with this Shield might have some potential?”

  “Who knows? The Shields are unique. They have a certain degree of power here in the west or they wouldn’t be allowed to live by their own laws. You know as well as I do that the original social philosophers were adamant about the laws applying equally to all social classes. With the exception of the Shields, the westerners have abided by that philosophy, just as we in the east have followed it. Think about it, Sariana. The Shields must have wielded some fairly impressive authority in order to get themselves exempted from the laws everyone else abides by. I’ve told you I don’t know much about them, but it seems to me it might be worth your while to explore your new situation before you give up entirely.”

  “I can’t think straight.” Sariana stared at the ornate facade of the building across the street. “My mind is in chaos.”

  “Not surprising under the circumstances. But panic will do you no good, Sariana. What’s done is done. You must find a way to make things work in your favor.”

  “All of my plans are going up in smoke before my eyes,” she whispered.

  “Then you must make new ones,” Etion said reasonably. “I know you’re right, Etion, but I’m having a hard time dealing with this. Who are they?”

  “The Shields? I’m not sure.”

  “They must have their roots in one of the original social classes that arrived on The Serendipity. Perhaps the crew of the ship? It was intended by the philosophers that the crew members would be absorbed into the established social classes after the landing. But what if they refused to be adopted into the other classes? It’s possible they invented a whole new class.”

  “It’s possible,” Etion said quietly. “Your explanation is a reasonable one, although it doesn’t explain how they managed to convince the other classes to grant them certain exemptions from the laws. But it might interest you to know that according to local legend, the Shields were not on board The Serendipity.”

  “What?” Sariana was so stunned she nearly lost her balance when she spun around to confront Etion. “Not on board? But that’s impossible.”

  “I know. I’m only telling you what scraps of the legend I’ve picked up during the past few years.”

  “Do you realize what that legend implies? It would mean that the Shields were already on Windarra before The Rendezvous and The Serendipity arrived. It would mean they didn’t descend from the original colonists. It would mean they weren’t…aren’t…human.” Sariana floundered at the enormity of the implications involved.

  Etion looked at her. “It’s only a legend, Sariana.”

  “But it’s so wild, so ridiculous. The westerners have a dramatic bent, everyone knows that, but to invent a legend like that is too much, even for them. If the Shields weren’t among the original colonists, where could they have come from?”

  “Sariana, calm down.” For the first time Etion’s voice held a harder edge. “We’ve agreed, it’s only a legend. The point is that, for whatever reason, the locals have granted the Shields certain privileges as a social class. You, apparently, have just married into that class. You would do well to study your new status before you panic. Use the training you were given in dealing with problems, Sariana. You’ve had a fine education, even if you didn’t make it into the academy. Stop and think. You might be able to use your new situation to some advantage.”

  Sariana tried to absorb Etion’s logic, but she seemed incapable of putting aside her agitated emotions long enough to think clearly. “I need time,” she murmured. I’ve got to think this through. It’s all so crazy.” She looked at Rakken and admitted the harsh truth. “I’m scared, Etion. I’m more frightened now than I was the day I found out I failed the academy entrance exams. What am I going to do?”

  Etion moved toward her, his hands outstretched to take her into his arms. “I don’t know, Sariana. But I do know that nothing will be accomplished with panic. Sariana, my dear Sariana, if only you had accepted my proposal the other day.”

  “Oh, Etion, I’ve been so stupid.” Tears burned in Sariana’s eyes
. At any other time she would have been appalled at the public display of such emotion, but right now she needed comfort as she had never needed it before in her life and Etion Rakken was the only one who could understand what she was going through. She moved blindly toward Etion’s arms.

  The scarlet-toe hissed angrily as Etion started to put his hands around Sariana’s waist. The lizard bared its small teeth and eyed the man with a menacing, jeweled gaze.

  Sariana paid no attention to the lizard. She was too intent on accepting Etion’s comfort. Etion’s hand rose to flick the scarlet-toe off of her shoulder and out of the way, but before either he or the lizard could act the door to the office slammed open with sufficient force to rattle the tiny panes of glass in the windows.

  “Touch my wife and I’ll slit your throat,” Gryph said calmly from the doorway. His hand rested lightly on the weapon kit at his belt.

  Etion’s hands fell away from Sariana as he jerked around to confront the intruder in his office. Sariana spun around, too, appalled.

  “Gryph! What are you doing here?”

  “That’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m retrieving my possession before she strays too far. Let’s go, Sariana, you have caused enough scenes this morning.”

  For some reason that accusation was just too much. Fury began to replace the desperation and panic she had been experiencing. It was an emotion unlike any she had ever felt before in her life. It raged through her, threatening to take control of her the same way passion had taken control of her last night.

  “Scenes? You’ve got the nerve to imply that I’m responsible for these scenes in which I find myself? Of all the arrogant, outrageous, disgusting things to say. How dare you, Gryph Chassyn? How do you dare to say such things after what you have done to me?”

  His sea green eyes flicked from Etion’s face to hers. Sariana was dumbfounded to see the flare of warmth that lit his gaze when he looked at her. Nothing altered the hard, taut lines of his face, however. He held out his hand arrogantly.