Clan and Crown

"Unless we can work with Les to prevent it," Rick said. "One thing's sure. We won't learn anything from anybody else. Les is the only chance we have to talk the shalnuksis out of bombing this place back to the stone age. Why would he try, except for Gwen? Yet, with his help, what we have built, the knowledge we will leave our children, might withstand even skyfire. The Shalnuksis might be induced to bomb the wrong places. But that's only if Les helps."

"And yet, all know what a debt we owe to Caradoc," Tylara said. "His honor is ours. You speak of what we will give our children. Do you wish to give them an inheritance of dishonor?"

Yatar, Jehovah, Christ, somebody, tell me how to answer that. Please.

Tylara sighed. "You have no answer. Nor have I. It seems that now we are both called upon to do more than we can do. Lord Elliot, have you advice?"

"No, lady," Elliot said. "We need Caradoc, and we need Les. But it looks like one's going to kill the other, no matter what. Hell, it wouldn't settle anything if Gwen dropped dead! She's the only thing Les cares about-"

"There is his child," Tylara said thoughtfully. "If the Lady Gwen were dead, there could be no quarrel-"

"Seems to me a man would be more likely to work for his wife than for a kid he's never seen," Elliot said.

"And we need Gwen if we're going to have a University," Rick said.

"You are certain?"

"Yes, I'm certain, dammit! And do you think I owe Gwen any less than we owe Caradoc?"

"I see." Tylara sighed once more, then stood. "I will not swear to lay no hand on Les forever," she said. "But I will swear to let him take us safely to the University, and stand apart from his first meeting with the Lady Gwen." She gave a shaky smile. "I think if I did not swear this much, you would guard Les night and day with your Colt in your hand. Even against me."

No answer to that, either. "That's a good start." And-Gwen didn't get any messages from Les. Meaning what? Maybe her transceiver's busted, but maybe she isn't listening. Maybe she's in one of her moods- "He done me wrong and then run off and left me." When she's like that, she wants his cojones on a spear, and if she stays that way long enough for Caradoc to come back and make her realize that she's got to be sensible…

Maybe. It's a slim chance.

But everything else looks like no chance at all.

This time the ship tilted slightly as it landed on a patch of softer ground. The whining sound grew louder and increased in pitch, and Les frantically manipulated dials on the box he carried. The ship righted itself.

Les inspected it critically, then seemed satisfied. "Okay, wait there," he said. Then he seemed to catch himself. He turned to Tylara. "With your permission, my lady, I'll go open a hatch."

He disappeared around the stern.

Tylara glanced at Rick, then stared at the ship. They stood together in the field, with only the Fire-stealer to give light. Tylara's lips were set in a grim line.

She's scared of skyfire, Rick thought. Well, so am

I. The interesting part is that Les is nervous. These ships must be vulnerable. Not likely I'll learn how. Not likely the troops will see anything. But they might…

He had every merc with binoculars stationed around possible landing sites, and he'd been lucky. Elliot was out there watching this one.

After about ten minutes a hatch opened just in front of Rick and Tylara. A wide gangway lowered itself. -

"Welcome aboard," the ship's voice said. It didn't sound anything like Les.

Tylara took Rick's hand. "Shall we go, my husband?"

He nodded, then grabbed her to kiss her. As he broke away he whispered, "Remember. Not only Les will hear everything we say while we are in that ship. Other-"

She smiled and nodded, and Rick wondered if she believed him. After all, she'd never seen a recording device, and describing one wasn't the same as showing it- Nothing he could do about that.

They went inside. The compartment was nearly bare. Rick looked closely. There were stains on the deck in one corner. This was the same ship that had brought them to Tran, no doubt about that.

In one corner of the compartment there were two piles of Japanese futons. On top of one of the piles was a package wrapped in brightly printed paper and tied with a scarlet bow. Tylara stared at it. The paper was printed with replicas of famous miniature portraits.

"It is lovely," she said. "I have not seen-"

"Ah, my lady, it is a gift for you." This time Les used his own voice, rather than the impersonal computer-generated one he'd used earlier. "Now, please be seated-"

Rick pushed the two piles of futons together and flopped into one of them. Tylara gingerly sat beside him. She clutched the package tightly.

"Will you not open it?" Les asked.

"I-it is so beautiful-"

"Let me, sweetheart," Rick said. He took the package and carefully worked the bow so that it came off without damaging it. Tylara took it and held it experimentally to her hair. The ends of the package were sealed with Scotch tape. Rick took out his pocket knife and slit the tape so that he could remove the printed paper without tearing it. Tylara watched nervously.

"I should have brought more wrapping paper," Les said. "I think I have some picture books. You can have those."

"Thank you," Tylara said. She sounded sincere. The box contained a bracelet and necklace of Navajo turquoise and silver, elaborately gaudy. Tylara gasped with pleasure. "Marvelous!" she exclaimed. She put on the bracelet and admired it on her arm. "There is nothing like it in all of Tamaerthon. Or Drantos."

That's for sure, Rick thought. But of course she'd like it.

They settled onto the futons. "Thank you," Tylara said.

A screen in the forward part of the compartment suddenly came to life. It showed Les in his command chair on the ship's semi-darkened bridge. "There's something for you, too, Colonel," Les said. "Under your cushions there-"

Rick felt under the pile and found a wooden box, not wrapped. Inside was a bottle of Talisker Scotch and four crystal glasses packed in Styrofoam worms. There was also a bottle of Campari.

"Have a drink with me?" Les asked. "Sorry I can't invite you up to the bridge. 'Thees starship ees going to Havana, Seсor,' with those minigrenades to make the point-well, the idea doesn't quite appeal to me."

"I don't suppose it would," Rick said. He tried to keep his voice calm. The grenades in his pockets suddenly seemed five times their size and weight.

"My lady might prefer Campari," Les said.

"Fat chance," Rick muttered. "She's had Scotch." He opened the Talisker and poured for himself and Tylara.

Les turned to face the screen and lifted his own glass. "Cheers, then," he said.

"Cheers," Rick said. Tylara muttered something. They both drank.

Tylara grimaced slightly at the taste. Rick frowned a question at her.

"I recall the previous time," she said. "I was pleased with your strong-whisky. But-"

But you'd just been raped by Sarakos, Rick thought. And this reminds you. Yeah. I should have insisted you have Campari.

"Ready?" Les asked.

"Yes," Rick said.

A moment later they were pressed into the futons.

The screen blurred, then showed the ground falling away. Tylara gasped and moved closer to him. The ship rose, and then they were high enough to see Castle Armagh with its blaze of bonfires. She shivered slightly.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Rick whispered. "We're no higher than-than the highest mountains." He'd almost mentioned Larry Warner and the balloon, but there was no point in telling the ship's recorders about that.

The ship began to move, and Armagh slipped off the edge of the screen. The Firestealer gave enough light to recognize the major terrain features. They were going west, following the main road to Castle Dravan.