Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (5 page)

going to take more than a little conversation, I'm afraid. You will need her willing cooperation on this trip,

Ridge."

Ridge narrowed his gaze. "She's willing enough. Her share of the profits are quite an incentive."

"That's not what I mean. You're going to have to seduce her, Trade Master. Quite thoroughly. You're

going to have to make areal wife out of her. Ridge, when the last two trade masters who got through to

the Healers' valley returned, they said the High Healers had begun complaining because the trade women

weren't `true' wives."

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"Surely by that point in the journey the trade masters were sleeping with the women they had brought

along," Ridge observed wryly. "There was a marriage document to make it all legal. What more was

needed?"

"The Healers of the valley understood this, but they still refused to accept the relationships."

"Why not?"

"For some reason known only to them, they did not consider the marriages valid, even though they

accepted such marriages in the past. They had no adequate explanation, but as near as the trade masters

could tell, it had something to do with a lack of bonding between the wives and the traders. The existence

of a sexual relationship and a piece of paper declaring the marriages legal are no longer enough for the

Healers of Variance, it seems. They want more."

"How much more is there?" Ridge asked blankly.

Quintel sighed. "I'm not sure. A link, perhaps. An emotional bond between the man and the woman

involved. Something understood by the woman, at least, to be more than a business arrangement. You

know how women are," he added. "So emotional. Apparently, previous trade wives have been quite

open with the High Healers concerning the temporary nature of the trade marriage. It would seem the

Healers have begun to object. Who can fully comprehend the Healers of Variance or women in general?

The impression I received was that they wished to deal with a woman who was not in the marriage

strictly as a business partner. I think, Ridge, that by the time you reach the mountains, you had better

have your trade wife bound to you with more than just a formal marriage contract. That, Trade Master, is

where your talents in the art of seduction will be put to the test."

Ridge stared at him. "I still don't understand."

"All I'm saying, Ridge, is that you'd better try wooing the lady.

By the time you reach the Heights of Variance, make certain she is committed to you and to the

relationship. The Healers will be able to tell, and if they don't find her truly marriedon an emotional level,

they won't deal, even if you find a way past this barrier they have erected across the pass."

Ridge swore softly. "By the Stones, you're determined to make this venture as difficult as possible, aren't

you?"

"It's not me who's making life difficult for you. Blame those illogical, female Healers."

"I'm supposed to make certain Kalena feels committed to me by the time we reach the mountains even

though the relationship ends when we return to Crosspurposes?"

Quintel nodded. "Yes. Even though it will end then. The process by which a woman is convinced to trust

her emotions rather than her intellect is called seduction. You'd better be prepared to practice that

particular art."

Ridge laughed mirthlessly. "You may have picked the wrong man for this job, Quintel. I might be

reasonably good at cutting throats for you, but seducing a woman takes real skill. I've never been

especially good at it."

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"I have great confidence in you, Fire Whip. Especially with the incentive I have provided you."

Ridge thought about the chance at the future he had always dreamed of that Quintel was offering him. "It

should prove to be an interesting journey."

"I'm sure it will be," Quintel agreed.

Ridge contemplated the task that lay before him; then he smiled faintly as a stray thought crossed his

mind. "She showed excellent manners at dinner this evening, didn't she?" He was aware of an odd sense

of pride in the fact. "You'd never know she was raised on an Interlock farm."

"Whatever her heritage, there are Healers in her family. They are a cut above the average farm House

woman and they know it. Kalena has undoubtedly been given a fairly decent education and some training

in manners and deportment. She did, indeed, behave herself very well this evening. A most charming

guest."

If one overlooked the fact that she seemed particularly fascinated with Quintel, Ridge thought,

remembering the times he had caught Kalena covertly studying her host as they dined. Kalena's curiosity

about Quintel had annoyed Ridge on some level. He would have to explain to her that even if Quintel did

have a weakness for women, which he did not, he was not an option for Kalena. She was contracted to

marry Ridge, and he would see to it that she abided by the terms of that contract in thought as well as

deed. Nothing was going to stop him from returning from the Heights of Variance with a shipment of

Sand. Ridge got to his feet with a sudden sense of decisiveness. No better time than the present to begin

making certain of Kalena's sense of commitment. He smiled rather grimly at his lord.

"You have not set me a simple task, Quintet. You realize, of course, that even though she's only a

farmer's daughter, she can still claim a better heritage than I can."

Quintel gave him an odd, understanding look. "You have spent most of your life proving to me and

everyone else that the fact you were born a bastard wasn't going to keep you from taking what you

wanted in this world. Surely you're not going to let a mere country girl intimidate you. Besides, once she's

been a trade wife, she can hardly claim more respectability than you

can. $,

Ridge shrugged. "Perhaps. I wonder if she knows."

"Knows what? That you have no House name? I'm sure she does by now. There won't be any lack of

people willing to inform her that you grew up on the streets of Countervail without the benefit of a father's

name. I wouldn't let it worry you."

Ridge's jaw tightened as he pushed old memories aside. There was no point thinking of those early days.

He had escaped from the poverty and the brutality of that world and the life that had killed his mother.

She had been worn out before Ridge was even eight. She had died of some respiratory disease that

could easily have been cured by a Healer, if his mother could have afforded one. No, his mother hadn't

survived the grinding life of the streets, but Ridge had. Quintel was right. Ridge wasn't going to let his past

concern him now. His goals were within reach, and if seizing his destiny meant first having to seduce and

control his new trade wife, then so be it.

"If you will excuse me, I think I will go to my chamber. It's late and I've had a full day." Ridge started for

the door.

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Quintel set down his goblet. "It's time for me to retire also. I still have my studies to attend to this

evening."

Ridge smiled. "Has anything ever kept you from your appointed hours of study?"

"Nothing," Quintel said simply. He rose, his black-clad body looking ascetically thin. "Iwis will be at my

study door any minute now with my evening glass of Encana wine."

Ridge nodded and turned to leave the room. "I wish you good evening, then, my lord."

"Ah, Ridge, there is just one other thing."

Ridge halted and turned to confront his employer warily. "Yes?"

"This marriage of yours ... I think we should celebrate it properly."

Ridge eyed the other man. "It's a business arrangement. It needs no celebration."

"For the woman's sake, Ridge. It will make the arrangement seem more of a real marriage to her. More

romantic, more emotionally binding. Besides," Quintel said, allowing himself one of his rare grins, "I have

a mind to see you properly wedded, my boy. You have always escaped the necessity of taking a trade

wife in the past. Who knows? First time out may prove lucky for you. This contract you have with

Kalena might become permanent. I think we should give you both a proper send-off."

"You've decided to indulge your odd sense of humor at my expense, haven't you, Quintel?" Ridge said

with a stifled groan.

Quintel's grin disappeared. "My instincts tell me the wedding would be a good first step for this venture.

I want all the luck on the Spectrum I can get for this trip."

"Putting me through the paces of a formal wedding ceremony strikes you as lucky?"

"Don't complain. I'll be paying for it."

"Somehow," Ridge said as he turned again to leave, "I have a feeling I'll be the one who winds up

paying. One way or another."

He opened the curved moonwood door, the only point of color in the all-white room, and walked down

the hall with a feeling of deep irritation. He would kill for Quintel if the necessity arose, and had done it

more than once in the past. But being forced to endure a full-scale wedding ceremony when the bride

was merely destined to be a short-term trade wife was almost too much. He wondered how Kalena

would take the news.

Ridge left the softly lit hall and stepped out into the oblong moonlit garden that divided Quintel's side of

the house from the servants' quarters and the guestrooms. Quintel was a gracious host, but he insisted on

his own privacy, regardless of how many people he chose to entertain under his expansive roof. No one

violated Quintel's private sphere without permission.

Ridge could have walked all the way around the garden under the shelter of the colonnaded portico that

surrounded it. But tonight the garden paths of gleaming, iridescent rainstone were far too inviting to

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ignore. The rainstone was bathed in the red glow of Symmetra, reflecting the moonlight with almost

unbelievable brilliance. Ridge glanced up at the red orb and decided Quintel probably knew what he was

doing. He usually did. The time of the month when Symmetra was at its fullest was an auspicious time to

begin a major venture. A full moon was traditionally a trader's moon, and although he was not strictly a

trader, Ridge had his share of belief in trading luck. In his view there was always room for the random

appearance of luck at any point along the Spectrum, even if a man had to create that luck for himself.

He was halfway across the garden, almost to the black and white onyxite fountain with its shimmering

black and white spray of water, when Ridge realized his quarry was not waiting conveniently in her

chamber. He stopped, unconsciously using the shadow of the perfectly proportioned fountain to shield

himself as he watched Kalena make her way through the garden. Perhaps the light of the red moon on the

rainstones had lured her from her room. Or perhaps she was simply restless. Ridge wished he knew

more about women in general. He sometimes found it very difficult to tell what they were thinking, even

more difficult to tell what motivated them. But could a man be expected to understand that which sprang

from the Light end of the Spectrum? He could only do his best to control it.

He watched Kalena for a moment, aware that he found her pleasing to look at in the moonlight. Her hair

was a tumbled mass of red tinted curls, her light colored tunic an odd shade of gold beneath Symmetra's

glare. She moved with the grace he had noted earlier and it made him wonder how she would move

beneath him in bed. Something within him suddenly ached to find out. He was considering his

unexpectedly fierce physical reaction when he realized she was heading for the portico that ran along

Quintel's side of the large house.

Kalena didn't realize anyone else was in the garden until Ridge spoke quietly from directly behind her. At

the sound of his voice, she whirled around, startled.

"Those are the trade baron's apartments," Ridge said quietly, his eyes unreadable in the red moonlight.

"No one goes into that portion of the house without an invitation from Quintel himself."

Kalena struggled to regain her poise. "I'm sorry. I did not realize I was on the verge of intruding. This

house is so large, it's easy to become confused." That last bit was true. The house, with its two stories of

spacious rooms and its endless gardens, was far larger than any home she had ever seen, even the

half-remembered Great House of her early childhood. The mansion was made up of a sequence of

rooms and gardens perfectly designed to present contrast after contrast. Circles and ovals were

separated by squares, rectangles and oblongs, each room carefully proportioned to compliment the

adjoining chambers and gardens.

But Kalena's reference to the elaborateness of the house was only a ruse, and she hoped Ridge would

not realize that she wasn't as lost as she claimed to be. She had known very well that she wasnearing

Quintel's apartments, having casually asked a servant to explain the layout of the house. An assassin

needed to make plans, and to do that she needed to know Quintel's evening routine. Olara's instructions