Tal sampled her dessert in silence as she considered Salomen’s theory. The pastry was excellent, as everything else had been, but she barely noticed.
“If you’re correct,” she said at last, “and I think you probably are, then I’ll do whatever I can to be the figure Herot needs. But I’m new at this, and I’m bound to make mistakes.”
Salomen shook her head. “Please. My whole family would be indebted to you if you can help with Herot.” Picking up her fork, she added, “Bet you never pictured a family like ours when you were envisioning your tyree.”
“I can’t say that I pictured anything quite like this, no. But then for me, any family at all is something new. Our times at table, with everyone gathered in one place and all the emotions interlacing…it’s been wonderful. Barring Herot’s black moods, of course.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Salomen reached out for her hand. “I’m so glad. You and Colonel Micah have both been a very welcome addition to our table. I haven’t seen Father so animated since Mother’s Return. He looks forward all day long to his evenings in the parlor with Colonel Micah. It’s been good for him to have a friend who doesn’t see him as the surviving member of a bond. And I looked forward all day long to my evenings with you, even before we called our truce. It’s difficult to believe you’ve been here less than a moon.”
“It’s even more difficult to believe I have so little time left. I’ll miss Hol-Opah. But at least I’ll be taking the best part of it with me next moon.” Tal watched as Salomen sat back, a suspicious flush rising to her face. “Are you blushing?”
“No, I’m just warm.”
Tal made no answer save for a wide grin, and though Salomen resisted, she eventually broke into a smile as well.
“I swear you make me feel things I never have before. I am not the blushing type.” She sipped her drink and added, “Nor do I particularly want to be. It’s embarrassing.”
“So I should refrain from complimentary observations, then.”
“I didn’t say that. Perhaps I’ll become accustomed to them with enough practice.”
They finished their meal with a divine pot of shannel. Tal swooned over it, and when Corsine arrived at their table, she informed him that he had surely gotten his recipe from Fahla herself. She had never tasted shannel that good in Blacksun. Corsine sniffed that very little in Blacksun was as good as its inhabitants thought it was, and Tal concealed her smile. He really was a snob, but she liked him. After all, the man had every reason to feel superior regarding his cuisine.
The other diners were more polite during their departure than they had been earlier. Though everyone still watched them, they were a good deal more discreet about it—except the Bilsners, who glared at them with no pretense of politeness.
“I really thought Gordense was going to say something nasty,” Salomen commented as they stepped into the fresh evening air. “He certainly wanted to.”
Tal nodded at the Guard, who fell in step at a discreet distance behind them. “His courage doesn’t go as far as speaking directly to me. But I’m afraid you may be in for a difficult time tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about me. I know how to handle Gordense and his ilk.”
“I know you do. In fact, part of me feels sorry for them.”
“What does the other part feel?”
“Happy that I’m not them?”
Salomen laughed. “Thank you for your faith in me.”
“That isn’t faith. Faith occurs in the absence of evidence. I’ve seen a great deal of evidence regarding your ability to verbally flatten anyone requiring it.”
“Would that by any chance include yourself?” Salomen reached the transport first and pressed the sensor pad.
“You didn’t flatten me,” Tal said as they settled into their seats. “You just…opened my eyes a bit.”
The flight back to Hol-Opah was just as quiet as the trip out had been, but this time the edginess was absent. Whenever Tal had a free hand, she reached out to hold Salomen’s. They traded glances now and again, accompanied by smiles that existed for no particular reason, and while Tal recognized their actions as being laughably stereotypical, she didn’t care.
Varsi was stationed on the front porch when they landed and gave the transport a salute before studiously averting her eyes.
“Is she afraid of seeing something?” Salomen asked.
“She can’t. I never turned off the privacy screen. But she knows we can see her, so she’s showing respect by not looking at us. That way we won’t feel awkward if we…” Tal trailed off, reaching out to slip her fingers beneath the thin strap of Salomen’s dress. “…do what I’ve been thinking about doing all evening,” she finished in a whisper. “Fahla, but you are stunning in this.”
Gently, she pushed the strap off Salomen’s shoulder and stroked soft skin, running her fingertips from shoulder to jaw and back again. Salomen tilted her head to one side, her eyes closing, and Tal wondered how it could have taken her so long to see this woman’s beauty. There was so much she wanted now, but none of it was possible except this simple caress. And perhaps…
Her lips touched just above the low neckline, and Salomen sighed as Tal brushed the other strap down. With both hands she gripped now-bare shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to convey her desire while countering it with gentle kisses. She covered every part of Salomen’s upper chest and shoulders, never pressing too hard, keeping her emotions tamped down, always mindful of a potential empathic flash. But her focus was broken when a hand against her cheek guided her upward. Salomen was looking at her with a heat in her eyes that was twice as arousing in reality as it had been in Tal’s fantasy.
“If you wished to test my fronting skills,” Salomen said hoarsely, “you could devise nothing more difficult.”
“Then let go.”
“And have my family sense this? No, thank you.”
Tal kissed her cheekbone ridge from temple to cheek. “In that case,” she murmured between kisses, “I’ll get back to my examination.”
“Is this what any instructor would do?”
“I am not any instructor.”
“Thank Fahla for that.” Salomen turned her head and met her lips with a passion that soon released everything Tal had been so carefully controlling. For a glorious few pipticks they sank into their bond, too deeply and too quickly. Neither had time to pull back before the flash slammed into them.
“Shek!” Tal sat back in her seat, frustrated and breathing hard as she waited for the tingles to subside and her sight to clear. Salomen’s laughter didn’t help. “What could possibly be so amusing?”
“This! It’s like a curse. The more I want you, the more I can’t have you. I’m beginning to think you were right about this being Fahla’s idea of a joke.”
“I’d have preferred to be dead wrong.” Tal was a little grumpy after the jolt to her libido.
“No, you had it figured out from the beginning. I think this is how she makes eternity a little more interesting for herself. How boring must it be otherwise?”
“Good question. Well, if our lives must be thrown into chaos and our greatest desires dangled in front of us like forbidden treasures, at least we know that we’re entertaining Fahla.”
In the ensuing silence, she looked over to see Salomen smiling at her. Warm pleasure flooded her senses as Salomen dropped her front.
“That was a fine compliment. All the more so because I’m certain you didn’t realize what you were saying.”
Tal held out her hand in invitation. Closing her fingers around Salomen’s, she said, “It was not a compliment. That was my truth.”
“Which is precisely what makes it a compliment. I don’t confuse truth with flattery.” Salomen squeezed her hand. “Thank you for tonight, Andira. I truly enjoyed your company. And I wish it didn’t have to end here
, but…”
“I know. May I at least walk you to your room?”
“Given that it’s on the way to yours, yes, I’d be delighted.”
Varsi brought her fists to her chest and bowed as they mounted the steps. “Lancer Tal, Raiz Opah, I hope you had an enjoyable evening.”
“We did, thank you. Good night, Varsi.” Tal moved forward, but Salomen had stopped.
“Guard Varsi, I understand that you gave the Lancer some advice regarding my brother.”
Instantly nervous, Varsi nevertheless stood straight and answered crisply, “Not advice, Raiz Opah. Just what I saw.”
Salomen nodded. “You saw something I did not. I appreciate your concern and your words. Thank you.” She reached out for Tal’s hand and led her toward the door, missing the expression of surprise on Varsi’s face.
“You’re welcome, Raiz Opah,” Varsi said after her.
“You realize you just stunned my Guard,” Tal said when the door closed behind them.
“Did I?” Salomen started up the staircase, still holding Tal’s hand. “It wasn’t intentional. I just wanted to thank her.”
“Warriors in the Lancer’s Guard are not accustomed to being thanked by producers. You just turned her expectations on their collective ear.”
“Good.”
“I have a suspicion that you’ll be turning a great many expectations on their ear once you arrive at the State House.”
“I certainly hope so.” Salomen stopped just before the top step and looked back with an impish smile. “And I hope most of them are yours.”
Tal moved up next to her. “Be careful what you wish for. I have a few expectations of you that I wouldn’t want to see turned upside down.”
Salomen tugged her hand again. “We’ll see, Lancer Tal. I promise nothing.”
They took the last step and turned down the hall. Too soon they stood in front of Salomen’s door, in the awkwardness of ending that neither knew how to resolve.
“I’d kiss you goodnight,” Tal said, “but I’m too frightened of the possible consequences. At least with the last flash, we were already sitting. I have no desire to find myself lying on your hall floor.”
“Perhaps a different sort of kiss, then.” Salomen leaned in and dropped a very gentle kiss beside Tal’s mouth, then moved her lips softly over her jaw and up to her ear. “Thank you for the best date of my life,” she whispered, then turned and stepped through her doorway. “Good night. I’ll see you at mornmeal.”
Dazed from the breath in her ear, Tal could only nod. “Good night,” she said, just as Salomen closed the door. She moved down the hall without conscious thought.
The best date of her life?
By the time she arrived at her own door, Tal was walking half a body length off the ground.
CHAPTER 53
Tiles
What a difference two days made. Spinner knew exactly what was happening on Hol-Opah now.
According to the latest report from his spy in Granelle, Lancer Tal had taken Salomen Opah to the best restaurant in town last night. Not only that, but she’d been dressed up enough for a diplomatic function, and the two were seen holding hands over the table. It looked as if the Lancer was seducing an easily impressed producer, but Spinner knew her better than his spy. This wasn’t a joining of convenience; it was an actual courtship. So far as he knew, that woman hadn’t courted anyone in a tencycle. Last cycle’s pathetic attempt on her vacation didn’t count.
Of all things, Lancer Tal was courting a producer. Unbelievable.
Was she doing it to regain support in the producer caste?
He thought about that for all of half a tick before shaking his head. No, she was too honorable for that. She would never do anything so calculated, which meant she was emotionally involved. It explained her “alliance” with the youngest son, as well as Herot’s jealous anger—and why she had been so stupid as to let the public relations potential of that challenge go to waste. In fact, it might even explain the challenge itself. Perhaps that hadn’t been as brilliant a move as he’d thought. Perhaps it had been something far simpler.
He smiled to himself. If Lancer Tal was involved, then she was distracted—and vulnerable. In fact, she had acquired several vulnerabilities. He just needed to decide which Opah best suited his purpose.
Salomen was the most obvious target, but there were complications with her visibility. Then again, her visibility might make her the best choice.
He had time to watch and wait. The last few strands of his web were almost in place. It was only a matter of time before Lancer Tal fell into it.
CHAPTER 54
It’s personal
“May I join you?”
Micah looked up to see Nikin standing beside them, midmeal in hand.
“By all means,” Tal said. “Find a comfortable patch of dirt.”
They were sitting slightly apart from the rest of the field workers, though still within the trees at the edge of the grain field. Normally Tal sat with the workers, but Micah had needed to go over security details with her since tomorrow was the start of her speaking tour.
Nikin sat cross-legged, lowering himself in the fluid motion of a man accustomed to sitting on the ground. “Did Salomen go back to the house? I saw her in the cook’s skimmer just as I was arriving.”
“She told me she needed time to prepare for tonight’s caste house meeting,” Micah said. He took a bite of his stuffed pastry and made a happy sound. “I’m either going to have to start joining the Lancer on her runs or else become another Hol-Opah field worker.”
“Or you could just eat less,” Tal said. “Here, I’ll take the rest of your pastry.”
“Keep dreaming.” He held it out of reach.
Nikin watched them in amusement. “You two act like Salomen and me. Are you sure you aren’t related?”
“I’m sure,” Tal said. “We missed you out here this morning. How is the horten crop doing?”
“Good. Perfect if the rains would hold off a bit longer, but I think we’ll be lucky as it is to get the grain in. Thank Fahla we’re nearly done with the harvest; we’re on borrowed time.”
Micah looked up at the clear blue sky. “Difficult to imagine, seeing that.”
“Don’t let it fool you. It’s always best right before it opens up and dumps on us.”
“What can you do?”
“What I’ve been doing—preparing the field cover. The horten needs just four or five more dry days. If the rains start before that, we’ll cover the field and use artificial light. It’s not ideal, and it’s a mess during harvest, but it has saved our crop more than once.”
“Tell me if I can help,” Tal said. “I won’t be here for the next three days, but I’ll be back as Hol-Opah’s most poorly paid field worker after that.”
“You’re not paid at all,” he said with a grin.
Tal gestured her agreement and took a bite of her pastry.
“So you’re speaking in Blacksun tomorrow and then…”
“Redmoon and Whitesun the next day, and Whitemoon the day after that,” Micah finished for her as she chewed.
“I wish you didn’t have to go. For your sake, but for ours as well.”
“She does make a good field worker, doesn’t she?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Nikin was suddenly serious, and both Micah and Tal gave him their full attention. Looking at Tal, he said, “I, ah…I wanted to thank you for what you’re doing for Herot.”
Tal put her pastry down. “You want to thank me for striking your brother?”
Micah’s ears perked up. He hadn’t had a chance to ask her about that yet.
“Not exactly, but…Herot was going to get hurt sooner or later. It actually took longer than I expected. And of the people who could have hurt him, I would much rather it was you. He’s been going to the
worst tavern in town these last few moons, with some of the worst people. I worry about him every night he’s out. And based on what Salomen told me this morning, you might be the one to deflect him from this path.”
“Nikin…” Tal sighed. “I told Salomen that I’d do what I could. But I’m not Nashta, nor a parent of any kind, and I won’t even be here beyond the end of this nineday. Please don’t put so much hope in me.”
“You’re the Lancer of Alsea. You’re the hope for all of us.” He picked up his pastry and rose. “Anyway, I know you two are busy. I just wanted to say that. Thanks for sharing your patch of dirt with me.”
“It was my pleasure. Come sit in my dirt any time.” Tal looked after him as he walked away. “Did he mean I’m the hope for everyone on Hol-Opah or everyone on Alsea?”
“I would guess the latter.” Micah watched the retreating producer. “He’s a good man. Carries a lot of his father in him.”
“Shikal birthed him. It makes sense that he’d be the most like him. And Salomen carries her mother. I wonder who Herot carries?”
“Perhaps that’s the problem. Speaking of our favorite Opah, I heard you had company on your run again.”
“He made it a little farther this time. I was impressed, actually. By now he must truly be feeling the effects of that first run, not to mention the bruise I gave him last night, but he’s pressing on. The real question is, will he run tomorrow?”
“I bet not. He’s proving something to you. If you’re not here, what’s the point?”
“I’ll take your bet. Yes, he’s proving something to me, and what better way to do so than to demonstrate upon my return that he can do more than when I left?”
“Hm. You might be right.”
“Too late. The bet is mine.”
Micah stretched his arms and sighed happily. “I’ll miss Hol-Opah. Guarding you in a remote field on a private holding has been a vacation. And now I must return to work.”
“Believe me, I’m even less happy about it than you.”