Without a Front

  “Of course.” Salomen ladled a sinfully large amount into Tal’s bowl, adding the same amount to her own before covering the serving bowl again. “It’s harvest time. Not having horten soup now would be a crime. It doesn’t get any fresher than this.” She plucked the hyacot twig from its holder, snapped it in half and replaced the pieces. “There. We’re now officially on a date.”

  “And a perfect one, too.” Tal dug into her soup without waiting. At the first taste, her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. “Oh, dear Goddess above. This is…indescribably wonderful. It’s never tasted like this before.”

  “You’ve never had horten less than ten hanticks from harvest before. It makes a big difference.”

  “Yes, it does.” Tal happily consumed half the bowl at a speed considerably higher than polite manners allowed, then forced herself to slow down. “I hope you didn’t plan on conversation tonight. My mouth is doing other things.”

  The look Salomen gave her made Tal drop her spoon. With her blocks down, Salomen’s instant desire was singeing her senses.

  “I, ah…”

  “Just eat,” Salomen said. “And don’t say anything more about your mouth, please.”

  “Deal.” Tal didn’t want to go there, either. That way lay frustration and impotent arousal, and she was having a hard enough time as it was. Salomen looked edible in that shirt. It was cut deeply inward at the shoulders, exposing just the edges of her chest ridges. This was twice now that she had tormented her with bare shoulders, and Tal was beginning to wonder if she really had felt that little fantasy of a few days ago.

  “Perhaps now you can explain that short answer about your trip,” Salomen said. “What happened with those boys and your meeting with the prisoner?”

  Tal shook her head. “I’d rather hear about your day first.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I spent my day running back and forth like a fanten on slaughter day and with considerably less purpose.”

  Chuckling, Tal said, “I don’t accept the part about no purpose. From what I could see, you were keeping control of a very complex operation.”

  “Well…” Salomen thoughtfully sipped her soup. “There certainly are a lot of details to keep track of and a lot of people needing instruction and answers. Usually simultaneously.”

  “I noticed.” It occurred to Tal that Salomen was a Lancer in her own right, simply governing a smaller world. “And speaking as one with similar duties, you’re very good at yours.”

  Salomen’s pleasure at the compliment warmed her senses, and the rest of the course was spent discussing the harvest. Tal was interested to hear that Herot had worked just as hard as everyone else, a noticeable change in his behavior which Salomen attributed to the fact that he preferred transport duty to the more manual labor of cutting or loading. Tal wondered if something else might be factoring into it.

  The soup in her bowl was gone all too soon, and she was gazing sadly at its empty depths when Salomen asked, “Ready for the next course?”

  “If it’s as good as this one, I’m more than ready.”

  “It will be. Give me your bowl.”

  Tal handed it across the table, expecting Salomen to carry it to the dish rack. She burst into laughter when it was promptly refilled from the serving bowl instead. “Was I that transparent?”

  “Andira, a sonsales could have seen your longing. It’s a good thing I had no other courses planned; I couldn’t have broken your heart by taking this bowl away. There is one other part to this meal, though.” She rose from the table, returning in a moment with a fresh loaf of bread. A wisp of steam plumed upward as she cut off the end. “Everything on this table comes from Hol-Opah,” she said, offering a soft slice. “Well, except for the oil.”

  “It’s wonderful.” Tal savored her bread, which was warm and fluffy and tasted divine. “All of it. You most of all. Thank you for this.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for coming on a date with me, even though you were so tired you didn’t want to.”

  “I didn’t want to go out,” Tal corrected. “I can’t imagine being too tired to want to be with you.”

  Salomen flashed one of those smiles that warmed her right down to her toes. “All right, we’ve discussed my day. Now it’s your turn.”

  It took the rest of that bowl, a second serving of bread, and a cup of shannel for Tal to recount the story of her afternoon. By the end she was feeling relaxed and utterly content; even her anger over the perversion of the task force had become something of a distant memory. She knew it would come back as soon as she had to deal with it directly, but right now, with Salomen looking so beautiful and listening with such close attention, the warmth in her stomach had spread to her head and she couldn’t feel anything but happy.

  “It sounds as though you’ve converted a few more to your camp,” Salomen said. “And it worked both ways.”

  “Meaning they converted me as well?” Tal drained the last of her shannel and replaced the cup in its saucer. “Pendar certainly did. Silmartin…a little. And Nilo is a thoroughly disagreeable little dokker, but he definitely learned something and who knows, perhaps he’ll really stay out of trouble. But I wouldn’t bet the holding on it.”

  “Neither would I. Still, stranger things have happened. And you do seem to have that effect on people.”

  “You mean you’re staying out of trouble, too?”

  “Hardly.” Salomen reached for Tal’s hand, focusing on it as a darker emotion wound through her earlier contentment.

  Tal lowered her head, trying to catch her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m trying to forget that we have only eight days left, but it’s not working. I’m already missing you in advance.”

  “You don’t have to miss me, and I certainly don’t plan to miss you. You still have your part of the challenge to uphold.”

  “I know, but what happens after that?”

  “Who knows? Look at how much has changed between us in just one moon. What will a second moon do? I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we should try to plan that far ahead. We’ll have options. And when it comes to my job, I make the rules anyway.”

  “Within bounds of tradition and requirements of logistics and security. Andira, I can’t live in Blacksun. You know that. And you can’t live here, much as I want you to.”

  “It’s not an either-or situation. We can work out something in between. I already divide my time between my base quarters and those in the State House; it’s not that hard to live in two places. Three is just one more.”

  “For you. It’s two more for me.”

  Tal rose from her chair and walked to Salomen’s side of the table without releasing her hand. Pulling her up gently, she grasped her other hand and said, “I know you’re a strategic thinker and you prefer to plan ahead. I do the same thing. But in this case, I really think we’ll drive ourselves crazy trying to plan something like this. It will work out. Let’s just see what the next moon brings and then revisit this, all right?”

  “I’ll try. I’m not very good at putting off decisions.”

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. Most of the time, it’s an excellent character trait.” Tal leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheekbone ridge, then nibbled her way down to her jaw. “Just not right now,” she whispered.

  “Fahla,” Salomen breathed. “Don’t do that, or I can’t be held responsible for inflicting another flash on you.”

  Tal pulled back reluctantly. “This, on the other hand, is a decision I’m getting closer to every day.”

  “So am I.” Salomen’s gaze was heated. “I want this badly enough to start losing my fear of the consequences.”

  “I’m beginning to forget I ever had fears.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes until Salomen swallowed and took a deliberate step back. “We need to cool down. And you have to
stop looking at me that way. Fahla knows I want our joining, and I want our Sharing, but I’m not quite ready to permanently give up my privacy just to satisfy this need.”

  Tal dropped her head, breaking their gaze. “I know. When I think that it’s been less than a nineday since I talked to Lanaril and found out what all this meant…”

  “Seven days,” said Salomen. “Seven days since I kissed you in the field and thought that perhaps, in time, I could adapt to the idea of you as my tyree. And a few hanticks later I found out that being tyree with you was the smallest of my concerns.”

  Once again Tal was reminded that the price Salomen would pay was twice as high as her own. The guilt rose so quickly that she couldn’t front it.

  “Andira.” Salomen’s voice was soft. “Stop that, whatever you’re thinking. It’s not your fault.”

  “Actually, it is. I’m the one who had the bright idea of giving you a warmron.”

  “And I’m the one who asked you for a second one five ticks later. Besides, at the rate we’ve been going, don’t you think we’d have joined by now if we had a normal relationship? And that would have set it all off anyway.” In a lighter tone she added, “Given how far I’ve come in just seven days, I’ll probably be ready to have our bonding ceremony by the time we go to Blacksun.”

  “Oh, no.” Tal played along. “Impossible. The Lancer of Alsea does not plan a bonding ceremony in eight days. Do you have any idea how many people we’ll have to invite?”

  “You mean we can’t flit down to some nice little village by the sea and have a quiet ceremony? And then announce it after the fact?”

  “Absolutely not. No flitting down to the shore for us. However, I can offer you a ceremony that none on the planet would soon forget.”

  “Well…” Salomen pretended to think. “I suppose that might suffice as a substitute. As long as I can rub Gordense Bilsner’s nose in it, and ask him what he thinks about my good name now.”

  Tal laughed. “I would never have guessed you’d have such a vindictive streak.”

  “It only shows itself in the presence of truly obnoxious personalities.”

  “That must be why I’ve never seen it before.” Tal chuckled again at Salomen’s expression. “I propose we drop Bilsner from this conversation. I have better things to think about than a bloated gasbag convinced of his righteousness. Did you have anything else planned for our date?”

  “No. Actually, I was looking forward to a training session afterward, if you’re not too tired.”

  Tal widened her eyes. “You imply that the leader of the warrior caste could be too tired to fulfill her duties? I think not.”

  “I didn’t realize it was still a duty.” Salomen put her hand over her heart. “I’m wounded.”

  “It never was. Not from that very first night.” Tal looked at the remains of their meal. “Speaking of which, are we on kitchen duty?”

  “No. Wynsill said she would come back after eve-three and clean up for us. She said we should just relax and enjoy our evening.”

  “Remind me to give her an increase in pay. Shall we retire to the classroom, then? We can work on your finesse in broadsensing. With those three comedians in the parlor, it should be easier for you to focus on individuals.”

  “I never have a problem focusing on Father or Nikin,” Salomen said as they crossed the dining room and started up the back stairs. “Colonel Micah I can pick out by process of elimination. Can we work on longer-range broadsensing?”

  “Meaning outside the house?” Tal led them along the upstairs corridor.

  “Yes. I’d like to try something different.”

  They reached Tal’s room, where Salomen took her usual chair and Tal settled contentedly into the window seat. “In other words, you’ve had enough of practicing the same thing over and over.”

  “In other words, I had a long day of doing everything that needed to be done, and now I’d like to do something just because I want to.”

  “Fair enough. This will be a little different, then. Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready.” Salomen closed her eyes, and Tal shamelessly took the opportunity to study her from head to foot. Fahla, but she was beautiful.

  One of Salomen’s eyes popped open. “I said I’m ready.” The eye shut again. “Clearly, you are not.”

  “Just finding my place of serenity.”

  “Your place of serenity is my body?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I’m looking forward to finding out.”

  Salomen laughed. “You’re making it very difficult for me to stay in my place, Andira.”

  “Sorry.” Tal centered herself, pushing all other thoughts away. In a lower voice, she said, “Start with the minds you know. Reach out for Shikal and Nikin.”

  “I have them,” Salomen said a few pipticks later. Truly, her skills were developing at a remarkable rate.

  “Good. So you know which emotions are Micah’s.”

  “Yes.”

  “All of them? Have you accounted for all of the emotions in that room?”

  After a long pause, Salomen said, “I’m not sure. There are some that don’t belong to Father or Nikin, but I don’t know if they’re Colonel Micah’s. They’re…quieter.”

  “As if they’re in the background.”

  “Yes.”

  Tal wasn’t surprised; Salomen had already demonstrated that her powers were very strong. Exactly how strong was something they were learning together. She opened her own senses, reaching out for the minds within her range, and quickly located what Salomen was sensing: the more distant emotions of three Guards near the house. There were two more patrolling the near grounds, but she wasn’t sure if Salomen could detect them. Time to find out.

  “Think of those background emotions as having strings attached,” she said. “If you find one and pull on the string, it will lead you to the source. Don’t force it. Just use a gentle motion. Let the strings lead you.”

  “All right. I’m trying.”

  Tal waited, tracking Salomen’s emotions along with those outside the house. A surge of confidence told her precisely when Salomen had found something.

  “Tell me what you’re sensing.”

  Slowly, with some hesitance, Salomen began putting words to what she could feel. Tal watched her, guiding her verbally and wishing with all her might that she might guide her more directly. Someday soon, when it felt right to both of them, they would Share and she would be demonstrating from within Salomen’s mind, rather than explaining from without. Until then, she would savor every moment of this.

  CHAPTER 74

  To find a traitor

  The rain stopped sometime in the night, taking a hiatus that everyone knew was all too temporary. Once autumn arrived, the rains were there to stay. Any break would be no more than a few hanticks, or a day at most. Tal was just grateful for the opportunity to run without having to wear a rainhat. She hated having anything blocking her view while she was exercising.

  Herot followed them again. As always, Tal tracked him as she ran, keeping tabs on his progress. This time he made it four lengths before stopping—more than double his first effort—and she was impressed. She wished she could tell him that but was fairly certain he would throw her words back in her face. No doubt he would find them patronizing and condescending. Instead she told Salomen, trusting that she would find a way to pass it on.

  Mornmeal was spent telling an extremely moody Jaros about her trip to the Pit. Tal was surprised to discover that he was envious of his bullies because they had gotten to ride in her transport and spend half a day with her. So she chose her words carefully, trying to convey the truth of the punishment and the very real fear the boys had experienced. The other adults joined her in assuring Jaros that no sane person would actually want to visit the Pit, but he wasn’t convinced. In the end Tal resorted to bribery, promising to take him
on a tour of the Caphenon. After that, there was no holding him down. He nearly floated out the door, returning to school with immense confidence and no doubt another story with which to impress his friends.

  The rain continued to hold off throughout the morning, but if Tal had thought that would make the harvest easier, she soon learned her error. Yesterday’s work had churned the landing and loading areas into a giant mud bog, causing workers to slip and slide everywhere. Twice Tal nearly fell on her backside, stopping herself only by planting her hands in the mud. Some of the crew tried to provide better traction by spreading horten stalks in the more trafficked areas, but with so many people moving back and forth, the stalks were soon swallowed into the mire.

  By midmeal, Tal was tired just from the physical effort of staying upright. Not even the glorious scent of fresh-cut horten could make up for the drudgery of that work, and she returned to the main house with a happy sense of release. She’d had her share of duty shifts in the worst of weather and had gladly left them behind as she ascended in rank. Perhaps that was the real difference between producers and warriors: producers never moved past the dokshin shifts.

  By the time Aldirk and Colonel Razine arrived at the main house, the skies had opened up again. Tal met her damp guests at the front entrance and showed them to the parlor, where they settled in with cups of shannel and got down to business.

  “Colonel Razine, I assume Counselor Aldirk has filled you in on the situation?” Tal asked.

  The colonel nodded. A heavyset woman who had clearly spent too much time poring over data and not enough in the field, she nevertheless radiated a physical power that would make any warrior look twice. Colonel Razine was not to be trifled with. “What little there is,” she said.

  “I’m afraid my meeting didn’t reveal much more in the way of answers. But we have two names to start with and a host of very disturbing implications.” Tal recounted her meeting with Donvall, then sat back to let the other two draw their own conclusions.

  “So the task force is corrupt and someone is using it for financial gain,” said Aldirk.