Resenting the Hero (40 page)

“Stand still!” he hissed back.

“Lord Shintaro,” one of the ladies-in-waiting called. “Shield Mallorough. Please approach the Empress.”

I had to step lively or it would look like Karish was dragging me by the hand like a child. We crossed the room with everyone watching us. Once we stood before the dais, we bowed again.

“Good evening,” said the Empress. “It's a pleasure to meet you both.” We murmured polite responses.

She settled back in her chair in a relaxed manner I wouldn't have thought appropriate for royalty. She linked her hands over her stomach. She looked at Karish, and her expression wasn't entirely friendly. “I have been advised that we have reason to be grateful to you,” she said. Then she waited for a response.

Karish didn't have one, not immediately, because what was the smart thing to say to that? I prayed nothing incomprehensible came out of his mouth. The Empress didn't appear to be in a forgiving mood.

But I should have had more faith. “If I have been in any small way of service to Your Majesty,” said Karish, “it can only be an honor and a privilege.”

A little oily, but better than anything I could have come up with.

“Before this night, I wouldn't have accused you of modesty,” said the Empress. “But I have been told that, of your activities in Middle Reach, you have been very modest indeed.”

That didn't sound good. So, obviously, the Triple S still didn't believe our story, and they'd shared that opinion with the Empress. Why were we there?

“Middle Reach was the work of many individuals, Your Majesty,” said Karish. He should get a prize, I thought, for the best giving of an answer that conveyed no information whatsoever.

“Quite,” said Her Majesty.

She looked ready to smile. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Karish's evasiveness had begun to amuse her.

“So what boon would you ask of the Crown?” she asked.

That had come out of nowhere.

Karish seemed equally surprised. “Your Majesty?”

The Empress held out a hand to one of her ladies-in-waiting. A goblet was filled with wine and placed in her fingers. “A good ruler knows when to reward her subjects,” she drawled,
r
's a-rollin'. “And when to punish them.” She took a long sip from her goblet, her eyes never leaving Karish. “This time, I choose to give a reward.”

Karish looked to me, frowning, then looked back at the Empress. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but we never anticipated such generosity. We haven't discussed anything like this.”

We
didn't need to discuss anything. It was his boon. And he'd better hop to it and ask for what he wanted before the Empress changed her whim and decided to have him decapitated instead.

She was looking a little irritated. “You are the Source who saved Middle Reach and High Scape, are you not?”

Karish didn't know how to answer that, I could tell. To deny it wasn't to be done, insinuating as it would that the Empress was mistaken in her opinions. To agree would be to accept all responsibility and credit for what had happened, and I knew Karish wasn't comfortable with that. “I was there, Your Majesty.”

A miserable compromise.

Nope, didn't want to be Karish. Ever.

“Ask your boon,” she barked.

He looked at me again. He seemed rattled. Perhaps he couldn't think of anything he wanted, which would be an unfortunate embarrassment. And a real predicament. What could Lord Shintaro lack that any human being, even the Empress, could provide? I put my free hand on his bicep and squeezed, willing him to calm down and think.

He looked down at me for a moment longer, and he did seem to calm down. His shoulders lowered a little. He nodded, though I didn't know to what, and he looked back at the Empress. “Your Majesty may be aware that my brother, the Duke of Westsea, died about half a year ago.”

I watched his face, hopefully keeping mine blank.

“I am,” said the Empress.

“He died without children, without completing his marriage promise. That would have the title fall to me.”

“It would,” said Her Majesty.

“I don't want the title,” he announced, and the audible signs of shock rippled through the ballroom.

I was no less shocked. He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. I couldn't believe it.

“So abjure the title,” she suggested lightly, taking another sip from her goblet.

“Aye, Your Majesty, I will. But, you see, I find myself curiously reluctant to give up my family name.” He smiled wryly. “If for no other reason than it would leave my Shield nothing to call me.”

“I'm sure you are aware, Lord Shintaro, why we require the severance from the family in such circumstances.”

“Fully, Your Majesty. But I will never change my mind. I have never wanted the title, and never thought it possible that it would fall my way. When I received the news that he had died, realizing that I would have to assume the title brought me no pleasure at all. I am a Source, Your Majesty. That is what I was born for. I decided to refuse it soon after I received the news, only circumstances prevented me from doing it immediately. And I will decline it, as soon as possible. Whether this boon is granted or not.”

I could breathe, that last nagging concern finally eased. Certainly, Karish had claimed over and over again that he wouldn't accept the title, but of course I couldn't believe him. What sane person would turn that sort of thing down?

Now I would have to feel grateful for his decision for the rest of my life. Ah, well. Nothing was perfect.

“You will not have to give up your name, Shintaro Karish,” Her Imperial Majesty said. “I offered you a boon. You have named it, and I will grant it. But remember, Source Karish, there are a roomful of witnesses to your request. There will be no changing your mind. Keep in mind the repercussions should you choose to pursue the title at a later date.”

Karish smiled, that unreserved, genuine smile that seemed to stun and capture anyone caught in its glare. “My most profound gratitude, Your Majesty.”

I looked at the Empress. Oh, yes, she was indeed caught. “Come then,” she said in a loud voice. “We have people. We have music. Let us dance.” And she claimed Karish for her first partner.

Now I was in the mood for a party. The relief was crippling in its intensity.

Court dancing wasn't nearly as exciting as bench dancing, but it had its pleasures. Karish was an excellent dancer, of course. The other men ranged from very good to almost painfully bad. As the partner of the guest of honor, I never sat out a dance, and it felt wonderful to be doing something physical after so many months of inactivity.

After dancing was dinner, and the artistic array of food on the long table was beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes. Soups, breads, cheeses, meats, fish, and vegetables, sauced when necessary and piled in mountains of plenty. All was accompanied by the appropriate wines, including a lightly sweet white from the south which I intended to abuse my Shield privileges to get a lot of. Dessert was a sinful display of cakes, pastries, puddings, and sugared fruits. Perhaps giving up access to the aristocratic world hadn't been the smartest thing Karish had ever done.

Karish and I had been seated at opposite ends of the table, so I hadn't realized he had left until the Empress rose to go. I knew no one was supposed to leave before she did, but I assumed Karish had charmed her. I was a tad miffed that, after that little lecture he'd treated me to, he'd decided to sneak out on me. I supposed he'd been blindsided by some gorgeous young thing.

Once the Empress left, the others began wrapping up their evening as well, as the two most interesting people of the party were gone. Once the crowd was considerably thinner, I snagged a bottle of that southern white and a goblet and headed back to the terrace. I hadn't had a chance to really appreciate it before. With the wine to keep me warm, I could contemplate the stars for a little while.

But again I was to be denied my solitude. Karish was there, sitting on the bench we had used earlier, and he was alone. He looked rather somber. I approached diffidently, and when he glanced up at me there was no telling if my presence was a pleasant surprise or an intrusion. “Are you all right?” I asked.

His spine assumed ramrod position. “Aye, certainly.”

“You're shivering.”

“You're not,” he said with disgust.

I grinned. “Of course not. I'm me.” And I hadn't been out very long. “Do you want me to go?” He shook his head. “Are you sure? I don't mind leaving you alone if you want.” He shifted over to make room for me, so I sat down beside him and poured the wine into the goblet.

Immediately he took the goblet and drank. Then he made a face. “Too sweet.”

“If I'd known you were out here I would have brought some of the full-bodied red.”

He gave me back the goblet and pulled me to him, draping an arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and I could feel him shivering. I wondered why he was sitting out there all alone in the cold. I hoped he wasn't regretting giving up his title already.

So I would distract him. “I read your letters when you went missing, you know,” I admitted.

“So you said. It's how you figured out to go to Middle Reach.”

No, it was what made me susceptible to Kelly's suggestion that I go to Middle Reach, the prat. “Some of them were from a Professor Saint-Gerard.”

That got his attention. I could feel his muscles stiffen up. “Were they?”

“He seemed to feel you created your reputation on purpose.”

Karish relaxed. I supposed he had thought I was going to make some accusation about the other matter, about his asking for advice on how to deal with an unruly Shield. I saw no reason to do that. “Did he?”

“Would he perhaps be telling the truth?”

“Of course not,” he answered too quickly.

“Really?”

“No one would go out of their way to create a reputation for being a wastrel.”

“Only people who are jealous of you call you a wastrel,” I assured him.

“And people who disapprove of me.” He squeezed me. “It's exaggerated.”

“Really?”

“Stop saying that. I couldn't breathe with as many people as they claim I've slept with. And when would I get the chance? I was always supervised.”

“Hm.”

“It was His Grace's fault. Apparently he slept with anything breathing. Everyone just assumed I'd be exactly like him. And once people start thinking that way, there's no point in denying it. No one'll believe you.”

“So you did absolutely nothing to deserve any part of your reputation?” I asked skeptically.

I felt him draw in a breath to answer, only he didn't for several beats. Then he said, “Well . . .”

I laughed.

“Of course, it does drive Her Grace to distraction. So I've been told.”

That was a motive I could appreciate.

I drank my wine. I looked at the stars, wondering which one we'd all come from. It was very odd to think that out there, there were other people, living whatever strange lives they lived, with no idea that we existed.

“I like you, Shintaro Karish,” I admitted. I prided myself on being honest. Sometimes that meant saying what was pleasant, too.

“Of course you do,” he answered. “How could you not?”

I smiled.

Karish was the Source that I had.

It was a good thing.

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Moira J. Moore's next novel

The Hero Strikes Back

Available September 2006 from Ace Books

It had been snowing for three days. Big fat flakes that stayed on the ground, and accumulated, and built up, and soaked through boots and caused collisions in the streets and killed crops and generally infuriated everyone. Except the kids, who were having a grand time building snow forts and engaging in snowball fights. But it was winter, in the middle of summer. It was weird and frightening and really, really irritating.

I tapped my boot against the doorframe, dislodging the snow that had been caked to the sole. On the second day, when I realized that the snow was going to be around for a while, I had dug out my winter wardrobe, which only gave my mother fresh fodder for eye-rolling and pained expressions. My choice of winter clothing caused her some distress. She claimed it was possible to have clothes that were both practical and stylish. I had begged to differ. It seemed to me one always had to be sacrificed to the other, and I preferred to ditch the style and keep the comfort. Besides, there was a rush on materials that merchants had packed away or left to dwindle for the summer season. The tailors were in a panic and their services were scarce. As a Shield I could be put on the top of any list, my orders given priority over any, even the High Landed, but I'd never felt right about pulling rank like that. Especially when I already had clothes I was perfectly happy with, my mother be damned.

“You're back quick,” the bedamned woman called out as I pulled off my boots.

“The stalls weren't out.” I'd been sent out by my mother to hunt down bay leaves. Being sent out on errands for my mother was a new experience for me. One I couldn't say I cared for.

“Oh well. I guess I can do without it.”

I hung up my cloak on a peg by the door and wandered into the kitchen. “That smells really good.”

My mother shrugged. “It's only stew,” she said, stirring the pot. “Nothing special. I should teach you how to cook.”