Authors: Dara Joy
Rital of Proof (11 page)
"Yes."
"I never promised him that, exactly. I told him that I would
try
to allow him his consent. I realize I might have misled him, but Jorlan knows he is the future of this family. I could never promise him that."
"But why Claudine? She's so horrible! You don't even like her."
"True, but I must." Anya looked away sadly.
"She has something on you, doesn't she? I know her too well. What is it? Do you owe her?"
Anya seemed to crumple before her eyes.
"I should have realized." Green was heartsick over this new twist. "Why didn't you come to me?"
"You were away seeing to your own problems; I couldn't burden you further with mine."
"Let me guess: Your distant estates began to have trouble. Funds were being channeled out and mysteriously disappearing? Crops weren't yielding their price?"
"How do you know that?"
Green closed her eyes. "Because it was what I experienced. I barely managed to bring the Tamryn holdings back from the brink of ruin."
"D'anbere offered to lend me the funds to see it through. I foolishly accepted. Now she is calling in the note in full. It is an affair of honor. Green."
"There is no honor with that woman! Don't you see that she was probably the one responsible for your troubles in the first place? She set you up as she did me—only for different reasons. Nonetheless, there are ways to stop her—as I have discovered."
"It matters not. She is coming tomorrow for the signing of the contracts."
"Does she offer a fastening bid?"
"The price she offers is clearing the debt I owe in exchange for my grandson."
"How much do you owe her?"
"Four hundred thousand plat-coins. Green, it is a fortune."
It
was
a fortune. Yet nowhere near what Jorlan might have brought in on open bid. Not only had Claudine created the Duchene's problems, she had neatly found a way to acquire her grandson for a fraction of his true bed price. Green acknowledged it was a fiendishly clever plot, if abhorrent.
She took a deep breath. "I will treble the amount. She will have to accept that amount as payment in full."
Anya gasped. "What are you saying? No one has that kind of money available."
"I can get it."
"It will bankrupt you!"
"Let me worry about that." She reached into her pouch and withdrew a small locked box. Taking a key from her chatelaine, she unlocked her ancestral chest and withdrew a rolled parchment, which bore the names of all of her ancestresses since the
NEOFEM.
By tradition, a mother must place her son's name on the familial scroll of the name-giver, along with her seal.
Once etched there, the contract was irrevocable. "Give Jorlan to me, Anya."
The Duchene looked at her, stunned.
"You
want him? But—but I thought you were opposed to taking a name-bearer."
"Not anymore. I want him."
A tear fell from Anya's eye. "I am so sorry; I have given my word, Green. I cannot. Had I only known... "
Green drew herself up, gathering her courage for the final plea. This would be her only chance to save him. "Anya, Claudine is a cruel, twisted woman in ways you cannot even fathom. Surely you would not want to deliver Jorlan to someone like this?"
Anya began to sob. Green got up and came around the desk to hug her. "I will cherish him. You will never need worry for his welfare. Sign the contract, Anya. For his sake."
"She will never allow it."
"The fastening price I offer will be sufficient to satisfy honor in the Septibunal's eyes. Claudine will not be able to refuse it and she will know it. You will have bested her but made a powerful enemy."
Anya steadied herself, the color coming back to her face.
Clever, wonderful girl!
"So be it, then. If the Tamryn name protects Jorlan, then I am not afraid of anything Claudine D'anbere might try to do to me." She picked up the Tamryn gold pen and scrawled Jorlan's name onto the Tamryn ancestral line with a flourish. Then she took her seal and placed her mark.
Green released her pent-up breath.
Jorlan was safe.
"There is one thing I ask of you, Anya." "You may ask anything of me. I will forever owe you a debt of gratitude for saving him; I am aware what has happened to her other name-bearers, though nothing has ever been proven."
"Did Jorlan know about this matter with D'anbere?"
"No. I thought it best to keep it from him for as long as possible."
"Good. Then I ask you not to tell him at all."
"But why? Surely he will be as grateful to you as I am."
"No. He must only know that I have contracted for him because I desire him. He must never doubt that I want him. If he learns of the role Claudine had in this, he will always doubt my reasons. You see, Anya, I had already decided to bid for him before I learned of this."
Anya smiled wanly. "That is the first thing I have heard that has made me happy in two days."
Green returned her smile. "I truly want him, Anya. I meant it when I said I would cherish him."
"You cannot know how grateful I am to hear that. I had always hoped it would be so."
"Really?"
"Yes, since you must know. Perhaps in the long run D'anbere did us a favor."
Green chuckled and shook her head. "Somehow it is hard to think of Claudine and favor in one sentence. You realize Jorlan is going to be furious with us both."
"Perhaps now he will abandon these foolish notions he has about male equality. Honestly, I don't know where he gets these ideas of his—certainly not from my side! Can you imagine
men
standing in the House of She-Lords? The next thing you'd know we'd be at war with everyone!" Anya shook her head, clucking under her tongue.
"I don't know, Anya, perhaps it wouldn't be quite as bad as that." Green winked at her.
"Hmf!
It's just not natural. Men belong in the home raising the children and that's that! At any rate, I'll leave the soothing of him up to you. I can guarantee you will have your time of it."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that."
"You are staying the night, aren't you?" Anya rose and walked around the desk. "I can't let you leave in the condition you're in, dear girl. You look ready to drop. Imagine, braving an arc storm for a fastening contract! Quite the story to tell your children."
Green winced. "Ah, let's keep that between us, shall we? I do not want to look too much like passion's fool."
Anya looped her arm through hers as they walked into the foyer and up the stairs. "Sometimes it's good to look the fool, especially when it is for those we hold dear."
Green patted her hand. "I'll face D'anbere with you in the morning."
"Somehow I knew you would."
Upstairs, the translucent eyes of Jorlan Reynard stared seemingly at nothing as the storm spoke to him in the language of endless rhythm. Then, as the wind abated, they drifted shut again, taking him deeper into sleep.
"What do you mean, the bid is off!"
Claudine D'anbere hissed at the Duchene. "Might I remind you that you have already accepted my terms?"
"On the contrary, She-Count," Green said, strolling into the sitting room. "She has accepted mine."
Claudine was stunned to see Marquelle Tamryn. She blinked rapidly, trying to digest what was happening. It must have been difficult considering the amount of brew she had consumed the night before.
Indeed, her eyes were red-rimmed and bleary from a night of debauchery.
"What fantasy is this?" She sniggered crudely. "Surely you do not expect me to believe that
you
have the bid on him?"
Green did not answer; she simply stared at Claudine with a steady, confident look.
Claudine sucked in her breath with a hiss. "This is not legal! You have agreed to my fasten bid, Duchene!"
"But I have trebled it." Green took a seat by the tall window.
"Trebled it?"
"I think all will agree that more than meets your terms for the note to the Duchene Reynard."
"I should say not!" Claudine flung back. "There is the question of her grandson, whom she has given—"
"As collateral to the note. The note is now paid back to you in full." Green nodded to
bid price on Jorlan. I'm sure the Septibunal will agree all parties are satisfied."
Claudine stared at the chit in disbelief. "You do not have the funds to cover this."
Green raised an eyebrow. "If I did not, I would not have written it."
Claudine's temper flared. "Do you think I will not have him? As far as I am concerned, this pays the monetary debt of the Reynards only."
"Then you better think again." Green removed her ancestral scroll from her pouch and opened it. Slowly she turned the scroll around to face the She-Count. Jorlan's name along with Anya's crest was plainly entered on her family line. Once a son's name was entered on the scroll, the act was irreversible. "He is already mine."
Furious, Claudine flung the scroll aside. "You may get his veil, but you will never keep him.
That
I promise you!" She faced the Duchene with a sneer. "And you, Duchene Reynard, have made an enemy this day. Be forewarned."
The old woman drew herself up with the dignity of centuries of Reynards. "Are you threatening me, She-Count?"
"Take it as you will." With that she stormed from the house, slamming the door behind her.
It took several moments for the reverberations to settle down.
In the sudden silence the Duchene turned to Green. "Well, I thought that went rather well."
A bark of laughter came from Green. "Oh, splendidly!"
"Do you think she'll cause much trouble?"
"Does Forus revolve around Arkeus?"
"Hmf.
We shall take her on together, then."
Green got up and walked across the room to hug the elderly Duchene. "No, Anya. I will take her on. Alone."
"But I—"
"Shhh. No objections to this, now. It is up to me; surely you see this? I know her ways."
"Are you saying I am no match for that screech wing?" She raised a haughty noble eyebrow.
"In mind you are more than a match for her, but this might go beyond that."
Anya's shoulders sagged. "You are right. I have confidence in you, my girl. Always have. I will aid you in any way you need."
"I know. And by the same token, I am counting on you to tell me if she bothers you in any way."
"Done."
"Good." Green straightened and bit her lip as she realized what came next.
"What is it?"
"Now I must tell Jorlan." She did not appear particularly thrilled with the task.
Anya chuckled at her expression. "Hmm. If you think Claudine was difficult... "
"I can handle Claudine. Your grandson is another story altogether."
Anya laughed. "Come now, I've seen you take on the entire House of She-Lords single-handed and win."
"As I said, your grandson is another thing altogether." Anya's chuckle followed her out the door as she went in search of her soon-to-be name-bearer. Otherwise known as the blaze-dragon.
She wondered if the arc storm was going to turn out to be the lesser of the two challenges.
She was soon to find out it was not going to be even a close second.
Green found him dismounting his Klee by the water fountains in the back of the house.
Anya had told her that he often rode his Klee, Sabir, in the morning. She had taken the time to bathe and change into some clean clothes
Jorlan alighted, clearly surprised to see her at the Reynard estate so early in the day. There was no way for him to know she had actually arrived in the middle of the night.
He wiped the sweat from his brow before patting his still-winded Klee.
He had ridden Sabir hard. Jorlan's reckless, wild rides were a favorite topic of the Slice. The man took unseemly risks that most thought of as bordering on indecent. Yet the words of chastisement were often laced with sighs of longing.
"Marquelle... Green, it is good to see you here." He gave her a broad smile of greeting, his perfect white teeth flashing in the daylight. One naughty dimple curved his cheek, making him altogether too alluring a sight for such an early hour.
He won't be smiling much longer.
Green thought. He stripped off his shirt and hung it over his Klee's saddle. Bending over the fountain, he ducked his head under the spray. He flung his head back as he straightened, letting the droplets slide down his neck and chest. Then he turned to her as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. Water glistened off of his lashes; the black crescents framing the pale azure color of his eyes.