Shields Lady (25 page)

himself had told her so. Well, so be it.

The first order of business was to find a medic.

            It wasn't hard to locate a female medic in Little Chance. An hour after she had left the windrigger, Sariana found herself talking bluntly with a competent, older woman who specialized in treating women. The medic wore the ancient insignia of a serpent and staff which harked back to the symbol of the medics who had been on board The Serendipity.

            "Now, you're certain you understand how to dampen and insert this little sponge?" the medic asked for the last time.

Sariana nodded a little dubiously. "It seems simple enough."

            "It is. Effective, too. If it's used regularly. Don't think you can skip a time or two. You must use it every time you have sex."

"I understand."

            The medic frowned. "Are you certain you don't want me to give you something that your male friend can use also? It would provide an extra margin of safety."

            Sariana tried to imagine the reaction she would get from Gryph if she presented him with a package of male contraceptives. "I don't think he would use anything."

            The medic eyed her patient disapprovingly. "A woman should think twice about getting involved with a man who refuses to assume his share of the responsibility."

            Sariana sighed. "I know. The problem is, he's a Shield and I don't think he would - " "A Shield!" The woman stared at her in astonishment. "Then why are you worrying about

contraceptives? There's no danger of him getting you pregnant."

            "Is that really true?" Sariana asked urgently. It was the first reliable confirmation she'd had of what she had been told. Surely a medic would not give credence to a legend unless there was some genuine fact at the base of it.

            "Of course it's true." The medic shook her head. "I keep forgetting you easterners know very little about our ways and you probably know nothing about Shields. To be honest, most of us don't talk about them too much to outsiders. I suppose we're a little in awe of them, even after all these years of coexisting with them. But since you're involved with one, you should know some facts. He can't get you pregnant unless you're his Shieldmate, and if that's the case, you can forget the contraceptives. He'll go through prisma fire to get you pregnant. The last thing he would do is allow you to use anything. Not unless the pregnancy would endanger your life. And even in that rare situation I've heard of Shields and their mates taking a chance."

"Having children is so important to a Shield?"

            The medic shrugged. "It's a matter of survival. As a class they are hanging on by their fingernails, one notch above extinction. Their birthrate is extremely low, even when the men manage to find mates. And they produce no female children. Without females of their own, Shields have a very shaky hold on reproduction. Each new generation of men must search for a mate among the other social classes, and' the odds of finding a woman who can be a Shieldmate are not good. There's no way to test for the potential in a woman. Even if it were possible, I doubt that many respectable families would want their daughters tested."

"I think I can guess why," Sariana said dryly.

            The medic shrugged. "A woman who marries a Shield leaves her clan and social class to join the Shield class. Practically speaking, that means she winds up living in some far-off mountain fortress town. Not too many women are anxious to give up their friends, family and the comforts of city life to keep house out on the frontier."

            "I think I get the picture," Sariana said quietly. So part of what Gryph had told her was true. "After all these years of marrying non-Shield women, though, haven't their bloodlines become diluted?"

            "They only care about the talent for working prisma. And that appears to be a dominant trait that is passed along by the males through certain receptive females. Just like their odd eye color. Neither eye color nor the skill with prisma shows any sign of weakening in successive generations. No medic pretends to understand the whole biological process, and Shields don't talk about it much to outsiders, but facts are facts. As long as a Shield can find a true mate, he can reproduce his own kind."

            "But what kind is that?" Sariana asked in confusion. "What is this talk of working prisma?" "You said you were involved in an affair with a Shield," the medic observed slowly. "He tells me that under the law we're married," Sariana said ruefully.

            The medic was startled. "You're his wife? A Shield-mate? Then I definitely think you should put your questions to him. I don't know enough to answer them completely for you, anyway. Furthermore, he probably would not take kindly to my attempting to educate you. Shields can be very difficult about matters they consider Shield business."

Sariana nodded in resignation. "Thank you. Medic Vallon."

            "You're welcome." The medic eyed Sariana closely. "Are you really some Shield's mate?" she asked thoughtfully.

            Sariana's hand closed around the package the medic had just given her. "He seems to think I am." "And you intend to avoid getting pregnant?"

            "It would ruin my whole future," Sariana whispered. "I'm not staying here, you see. Eventually I'll be going home to the eastern provinces. I was born and raised in Rendezvous. I'm only here for a year or two."

            The medic shook her head uneasily. "This is the first time I have ever heard of a Shield finding a mate from the eastern provinces. Now that there is growing contact between us, this sort of situation may become more common. Unfortunately, no provision was made for it in the First Generation Pact the colonists made with the Shields."

            Sariana didn't like the somber tone in the other woman's voice. "Why is it so unfortunate?" Medic Vallon looked at her. "You can trust a Shield with your life. Everyone in the west knows that to

a Shield, his word is his bond. They adhere rigidly to the terms of the Pact. But they are a desperate class who face extinction with each new generation. If they discover that they can find mates in the eastern provinces, you can be certain they will start searching for them there as well as here. But the people of the eastern continent have no pact with which to control them."

            Sariana's mouth went dry. "Are they so very dangerous? It sounds like there are only a few of them." "Any intelligent being facing extinction would probably become dangerous out of desperation. But in

the case of the Shields, the business of being dangerous takes on new meaning. The luck of the day to you, Sariana Dayne. I'm beginning to think you will need it. A word of warning. If I were you, I would not let your Shield know about that little sponge I just gave you. If he does find out, I would consider it a great favor if you would avoid telling him who prescribed it for you."

            There was a light, misty rain falling by the time Sariana reached the street. A disgusted hiss from Lucky made Sariana pause long enough to reach up and remove the lizard from her shoulder.

            "So you don't like getting wet, hmm? Here you go. I hope that suits you." She popped the scarlet-toe into a pocket of her cloak and then pulled up the hood to cover her hair. The hissing stopped as the lizard settled down into the comfortable pocket. Sariana put the package she had gotten from the medic into another pocket.

            If she hadn't gotten lost on the way back to the docks, she would never have stumbled onto the fair. It was being held at the edge of town and the array of brightly colored tents, awnings and flags stretched as far as Sariana could see. The misting rain did not seem to affect the enthusiasm of the crowds. The fairgrounds were thronged with brilliantly garbed people.

            Sariana was fascinated. There was no equivalent to it in the eastern provinces. A few of the farming towns had annual festivals, but nothing on this scale. She found herself sucked into the crowds before she knew what had happened. The shouts of audiences and hucksters mingled with music and the screams of overexcited children. Warm, fragrant smells filled the air near the food booths and more acrid, earthy scents emanated from the animal stalls.

            Sariana wandered for over an hour, taking in an exhibition of magic, staring in amused wonder at a muscleman who could lift an entire dragonpony off the ground, and listening to balladeers.

            She turned a corner at one point and found herself in an aisle of craft booths. Idly she began studying the wares that were offered for sale. When she spotted a handsome metal belt buckle on display beneath a cheerful blue awning, she stopped.

            The buckle was beautifully made. With an eye that had been trained for over a year in the Avylyn household, Sariana judged the craftsmanship and found it very satisfying. The motif was a finely executed head of a bird of prey. Its eyes were set with small, perfectly faceted stones that resembled prisma, although Sariana knew from the price of the object that the stones could not possibly be genuine crystal.

The creature's black and gold feathers were fashioned in beautiful cloisonne work.

            An image of Gryph's worn leather belt and scarred buckle flashed into Sariana's mind. In that moment the vendor spotted her and rushed forward excitedly. "You have an eye for beauty, my

lady. This is the finest piece in my collection. It was done by a member of my own clan. We're closely related to the Avylyns, you know. You've heard of them, of course?"

            Sariana smiled faintly. It was not unusual for a provincial jewelers' clan to claim kinship with one of the Prime Families in the social class. The relationship was usually extremely distant if it existed at all. "As a matter of fact, I have. I have worked for the Avylyns in Serendipity for the past year."

            The man's eyes widened in astonished pleasure. "By the Lightstorm! No wonder you picked out this buckle. You have been well trained. I will let you have it for a fraction of its true value. Clan discount, of course."

            "That's very kind of you, but I'm really not certain I want the buckle," Sariana said quickly. "I was just admiring it."

"Please," the vendor begged. "I want you to have it. It's you, my lady."

            "Me? But it's a man's buckle…"

            The man dismissed that with an extravagant wave of his hand. "It was made for you to give to a man. A husband, perhaps? A father? A brother? A lover? Who knows? It will be the perfect gift for some man who is important to you."

            "I'm sure I couldn't possibly afford it, even with a clan discount. It's too beautifully made." "Nonsense," the vendor said briskly, rubbing his hands. "I feel certaul we can come to some agreement

on the matter of price."

            A few minutes later, Sariana, who had only been toying with the idea of buying the buckle, walked away from the booth with a package.

            She was still wondering how a sophisticated businesswoman such as herself had gotten talked into buying something she really didn't need when she found herself passing a theater tent. It was the picture on the poster outside that drew her attention. The play that was about to be performed was a torrid bit of romantic adventure set in First Generation days. The story involved the Pact made between the Shields and the colonists.

            Unable to resist finding out more about the western legend with which she had unwittingly become involved, Sariana let herself be caught up in the crowd pouring into the little theater. She wound up sitting next to a small boy named Keri who was obviously a great fan of First Generation tales. He had a krellcat draped over one shoulder. Keri took delight in telling Sariana what was going to happen onstage.

            "How many times have you seen this play?" Sariana asked just as the play began. "Five times this week," he whispered back proudly. "Look," he told her as the curtain rose, "the First

Generation people are on board the ship. The explosions that nearly wrecked The Serendipity have just taken place. See all the blood and stuff?"

            "Yes," Sariana said, surveying the realistic props. "I can see all the blood." With typical western theatrical abandon the stage was littered with a lot of red sauce and imitation body parts.

            "Pretty soon the fire will break out," Keri went on importantly. Someone in the row behind him shushed him. He lowered his voice but he didn't stop talking. "Everybody thinks they're going to die."

            Pandemonium reigned onstage as the embattled starship fought for its life. In spite of herself, Sariana got a lump in her throat. This part of the legend was not too different from the story in the surviving records of the First Generation of The Rendezvous. It didn't take much imagination to conjure up the panic and despair that had gripped the people aboard the ships. They had come so far and were so very near their destination and now they were threatened with annihilation.

            "This is where The Serendipity loses track of The Rendezvous and everyone assumes The Rendezvous is destroyed," Keri said excitedly. Again he was shushed from the back row.

            "Now what's happening?" Sariana asked in genuine confusion as a great light flashed on stage. It blinded both the audience and the actors for a few seconds.

            "The Lightstorm," Keri explained in enthusiastic horror. "It's attacking the ship and everyone is going to die."

"What Lightstorm?"

"The one caused by the crystal ships," Keri whispered. "Don't you know anything?"

            "There are times lately when I've wondered about that."

            Bit by bit, with Keri's help, Sariana managed to put the tale together. According to the legend, The Serendipity had dealt with more than an explosion on board. She had also been faced with an indescribable storm of light that had deadened every piece of equipment on the ship. Unlike The Rendezvous, which had retained enough power to manage a cooiroUed crash landing. The Serendipity had been utterly helpless. The ship had plummeted into the blazing storm of light.