Mouse and Dragon

Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Nothing is as easy as it looks.

—Terran Proverb

Mr. dea'Gauss was not happy; Aelliana knew it immediately they entered his office. How she knew it—well, likely the knowledge was Daav's, whose fingers were interlaced with hers.

“Your lordship. My lady. May I bring you refreshment?”

“Thank you, no,” Daav said gently, as if the apprehension she felt from him did not exist. “I think you had better just tell us, sir. Has Mizel refused our offer?”

There was a pause—and a sigh.

“Not . . . precisely, no.”

Mr. dea'Gauss moved his hand, showing them chairs, and did not take his own until they were seated. “Mizel has produced a . . . counteroffer, your lordship. Quite an extraordinary counteroffer.”

Daav had taken his hand from hers as they were seated, but Aelliana felt a flutter of hope on her own behalf. A counteroffer. Surely, that was only expected? Contracts were after all about negotiation, and compromise.

“If they are still talking, then there is hope,” Daav murmured, in echo of her thought. “With what have they countered?”

Mr. dea'Gauss drew his notepad to him and touched the screen.

“They ask . . . ” He cleared his throat. “They ask high for the life-price, though had that been the only obstacle I might have counseled your lordship to accept, in order to have all done soonest. They ask, also, for the life-price of a nadelm, and they—” Mr. dea'Gauss looked up, but it was her eyes he sought, not Daav's.

“They demand, my lady, that you return to your clanhouse until the negotiations with Korval are complete.”

“No!” She raised her hand, fingers spread. “That I refuse.”

Mr. dea'Gauss looked even more unhappy.

“There is custom behind it, my lady. Mizel's qe'andra informs me that you had been called home by your delm ere this negotiation had begun. You are thus constrained, as a daughter of Mizel . . . ”

“I will not return to that house!”

Panic clawed at her throat. That house, with Ran Eld behind every door, and her mother, with his ghost in her eyes! It would happen again—her life would be torn from her, the house would wear her down, they would demand—demand duty done, demand that she give Daav over, demand—

“No! I will not go back there to be ground down and destroyed! I will not be a prisoner to Mizel's incompetence! I have appointments—engagements! I—”

“Aelliana.”

Calm and beloved, his voice. She shook her hair away from her eyes, startled to find herself standing and halfway to the office door. Her legs were shaking and her stomach was . . . quite unsettled. It came to her that she was weeping.

“Aelliana.”

Daav held his hands out, palms up, offering himself to her.

“We will find the route, Pilot. I swear it.”

Shakily, she stepped forward, put her hands in his, fully expecting to feel the force of his anger, but instead there was only and truly—

Calm.

She closed her eyes.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Take what you need.”

The panic wilted before this encompassing calmness. She felt peaceful, and alert . . .

“Mr. dea'Gauss,” she heard Daav say.

“Your lordship.”

“Korval perfectly comprehends Mizel's natural wish to guard the well-being of one of its precious children. Further, it is Korval's wish, as of course it is Mizel's, that there be no coercion or threat brought to any of the principals of these talks. Pilot Caylon will therefore remove from Jelaza Kazone—”

“No,” she whispered, her fingers tightening on his, but he went on as if he had not heard her.

“She will remove from Jelaza Kazone, to Trealla Fantrol. If that discomforts Mizel, then to Glavda Empri. If yo'Lanna finds no favor with Mizel, then Pilot Caylon will go to Healer Hall in Chonselta City, remanded to the specific care of Master Healer Kestra. In no case will Pilot Caylon be a prisoner, held to her rooms, or forbidden to have visitors. She will be free to go about her business, honoring her appointments and her social engagements as an adult and fully responsible person.”

“I will see it done, your lordship.”

“Thank you, Mr. dea'Gauss,” Daav murmured. “Aelliana?”

“The price of a nadelm,” she murmured. “It's blood money. For Ran Eld.”

There was a startled silence. Mr. dea'Gauss spoke first.

“Are you certain, my lady? It was told to me that Mizel named you as nadelm.”

“She did not,” Aelliana said, daring to take her hands away from Daav's and approaching the table.

Daav slipped a hand under her elbow and helped her regain her seat before taking his own. He and the accountant shared a troubled glance.

“If—that is a dangerous precedent,” Mr. dea'Gauss said slowly. “It imperils the future negotiations of all, and muddles the lines between restitution made in Balance of a death, and the price paid to adopt a member of one clan into the ranks of another. As a Master of the Accountants Guild, I—forgive me, your lordship—I cannot allow that precedent to be set.”

“I understand entirely, Mr. dea'Gauss, and I would not ask it of you.” Daav sighed.

“Thank you, your lordship.” He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, pushing the notepad aside.

“Mizel's qe'andra allows me to know that Mizel will deal in earnest when Korval's good intentions are shown.”

Aelliana swallowed. “I must remove from our house before Mizel will begin to talk?”

“That is the essence, my lady.”

Aelliana closed her eyes.

“What do they have to gain?” she whispered.

Mr. dea'Gauss cleared his throat.

“If I may venture a guess . . . I believe that it may be that news of the attachment between yourself and his lordship has come to Mizel's ears.”

“They hope that separation will disorder us,” Daav said. “Thus we will not negotiate as well or as carefully as we should, and Mizel will achieve an advantage.”

Mr. dea'Gauss inclined his head. “That is my belief, yes.”

“Well, then.” Daav put his hand over hers on the table. “We depend upon you to keep us careful, Mr. dea'Gauss, and to guard us from all harm.”

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