Shields Lady (7 page)

            The early summer sunshine warmed the wide stone sidewalks and the cobbled streets of downtown Serendipity. Sariana was accustomed to the boisterous, outrageously dressed crowds that thronged the squares and avenues of the capital. In her elegantly restrained attire she was the one who stood out.

            Pausing near one of the many sparkling fountains that graced virtually every comer of the city, Sariana prepared to cross the street. She was getting better at the deceptively simple task but she still exercised caution. Lifting her skirts she stepped off the sidewalk. And was nearly run down by a dragonpony being ridden at full speed.

            "By the Captain's Blood, lady, watch where you're going," the pony rider yelled cheerfully as he thundered past. The pony's clawed feet scraped on the stones mere inches from Sariana's boots.

            "Here, now. Where did you come from?" shouted a wagonmaster as he sawed at the reins. The wagon swerved around Sariana with a dramatic nourish.

            Sariana lifted her chin and ignored both close calls. She had learned that only cool arrogance, a fine disdain for danger and the ability to calculate distances with great precision guaranteed a safe crossing. Carriage drivers and riders tended to view the contest between themselves and pedestrians as a glorious,

endless game.

            Sariana prided herself on not having yet sunk to the point of swearing at the flamboyant drivers and riders who challenged her right to cross the streets. There were times, however, when she wondered how much longer she could restrain herself under the trying conditions. She had lived in the Avylyn household long enough to acquire a wide assortment of colorful phrases.

            She dreaded the day she would start using those phrases because it would mean she had allowed herself to be dragged one step deeper into this crazy culture.

            She made it across the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a teenager on a high spirited dragonpony, and saw with relief that Etion Rakken was waiting for her in the usual spot. His deep red hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes regarded her with genuine appreciation as she walked toward him. He was sitting under an awning at a popular sidewalk cafe.

            Rakken was wearing a version of the local masculine fashion. It wasn't quite as colorful as the attire of the males around him, but neither was it as severely tailored as what he would have worn back in Rendezvous. Etion liked to say he had adapted to the local culture. Sariana sometimes feared the changes in him had gone even deeper. Etion had given up all thought of going home.

            Today he had on a dark brown frockcoat, a beribboned white shirt and yellow breeches and hose. Sariana risked a discreet glance downward to see if Etion had taken to wearing a codpiece yet. She was relieved to discover he had not. There was still hope for him, she thought with wry humor.

            Sariana smiled brilliantly for the first time that day as she exchanged greetings and took the seat beside Etion. He had already ordered tea and a plate of pretty little cakes for her. She couldn't help but notice, however, that he was on his second mug of ale. A year ago he had kept his drinking limited to the evenings. But sometime during the past few months he had started ordering ale at luncheon. Now he was starting in on the ale at mid-morning tea. The knowledge disturbed her. Etion was changing. To take her mind off that unhappy thought she picked up her teapot and examined it with an admiring eye.

            It seemed to Sariana that nothing in the western provinces was ever plain or merely functional. The westerners loved decoration, the more elaborate, the better. The tea Etion had requested had arrived in a beautiful little pot designed to look like a wedding coach, and every centimeter of the cakes on her plate was frosted with fancy swirls and patterns.

            "You look most charming today, Sariana. A very elegant, cool and serene little lightbird among all these mad, fluttering, squawking keenshees. How are you?"

            "A bit frazzled to tell you the truth." Sariana wished very badly that she could confide completely in Etion. He already knew just about everything there was to know about the Avylyn family finances. He might as well know about the missing prisma cutter and the hired Shield, too.

            But she couldn't betray the Avylyns' confidence. They were frantic about getting the cutter back. They were also adamant that no one outside the immediate family know the scandalous truth. The hiring of Gryph Chassyn and the reason why were to remain dark secrets within the household.

            "You don't know how good it is to see you today, Etion. It's been the usual madhouse at the Avylyns for the past few days, especially with the annual costume ball coming up soon. I had no idea of the enormity of the event when I agreed to budget for it."

            "I warned you. Nobody here entertains in a casual fashion. I suppose Lady Avylyn wants to spend three times as much as you have allowed?"

            "At least. Etion, nobody in that family has any concept of economy or financial prudence. It's a wonder the Clan has survived this long."

            Etion grinned cheerfully, his handsome face crinkling into fine lines at the comers of his eyes. Rakken was several years older than Sariana. There was a touch of distinguished gray in his red hair. He had been one of the first people from the eastern continent to make the trip across the ocean when contact had been reestablished between toe two groups of colonists. He had arrived nearly five years earlier and had stayed.

Rakken's prowess in banking and his sophisticated business education had given him a strong edge over the local competition, most of whom had only a primitive concept of economics and finance. There had been no business clans on board The Serendipity. The descendants of those first colonists had been

improvising ever since. Rakken was making a lot of money showing the locals how the banking game was played by professionals.

            "Are you going to hold me responsible after all for getting you into that situation?" Etion asked humorously.

            Sariana flashed him a quick, laughing smile. "Are you kidding? I may complain from time to time, but you know perfectly well I'm grateful to you. If I manage to rescue the Avylyns a lot of things could change in my life."

            The amusement in Etion's eyes faded and a bitterness that was usually well-concealed briefly took its place. He took a long swallow from his mug. "You still think that if you prove yourself here you'll be able to go home to Rendezvous and take your place among the rest of your Clan as if nothing had ever happened? You think the folks back home will accept success here in the benighted western provinces as real success? Don't set yourself up for a fall, Sariana. Don't feed yourself a lot of false hopes."

            She poured the tea with a steady hand, refusing to let Etion's warnings get to her. "I've decided to reapply to the academy, Etion."

            "Nobody gets a second chance at the Academy of Business," Etion said very softly. "No matter how well he does once he's left Rendezvous. As far as the academy is concerned, failure to matriculate directly out of the university levels means it's all over for you. Remember that, Sariana. Accept the fact that you're here in Serendipity for good and learn to live your life as if this was home. Stop dreaming."

            "My dreams are all that keep me from going crazy at times, Etion." Sariana sipped her tea and gazed out across the square: "My dreams and your friendship." Determined to change the subject, she indicated one small building across the street. "I think I know where the pastry chef got her ideas for decorating these little cakes. Look at that shop over there. Doesn't the trim on the windows and roof look exactly like the trim on these cakes?"

            Etion hesitated and then gave up the lecture he had tried to deliver. His mouth curved as he followed her glance but his eyes were bleak. "You're right. The chef probably looked put the window this morning when she was getting ready to decorate the cakes. Any westerner will tell you that artistic inspiration can come from any source."

            Sariana's gaze moved consideringly over the other buildings in the square. "I'll have to admit that the local architecture was somewhat startling at first, but I think I'm almost getting used to it. There is a certain experimental zest to the local buildings and the design of towns. Oh, most of the time it looks overdone," she added quickly. "Too much ornamentation. Too many flowing staircases, too many overwrought facades, too many grand galleries and gardens. But lately I've decided it all has a crazy kind of charm. Back home everything is designed to be functional and utilitarian and dignified. At least the local architecture is never dull."

            Etion watched her face as he sipped his ale. "A people's architecture reflect something of their nature. The same applies to clothing, I imagine."

            "I know, and I sometimes get exhausted just looking at all the incredible costumes as well as the amazing architecture," Sariana said with a small laugh. "But at other times it occurs to me that Rendezvous could benefit from a small infusion of design from the western provinces." Her eyes sparkled for an instant. "And the west could certainly learn something from us."

            "It will be interesting to see where we all are in five or ten or twenty years," Edon remarked. "Well, I for one plan to be back home in Rendezvous managing my clan's trade interests," Sariana said

with conviction. "It's what I was meant to do from the day I was born. What about you, Etion? Will you ever go home?"

            "It's too late for me, Sariana," he reminded her with soft bitterness. "I've told you that. I'm good at what I do, but nothing will ever make my clan or my business associates back in Rendezvous forget that financial scandal five years ago. I'm just damn lucky contact with the western provinces had been established by then or I would have had no place to run."

            "I suppose I'm lucky, too," Sariana mused. "A few years ago failure to matriculate to the academy would have been the end of the line for me. I would have had to accept a low level position within my own clan or marry into a less important business clan. Last year when everything collapsed around me I

needed a place to run, also."

            "The difference between us is that I've accepted my fate. You have yet to come to terms with yours." Etion leaned forward with uncharacteristic intensity. "Remember, Sariana, when you finally do realize that it's better to be a success here than a failure back home, I'll be waiting. You and I have a lot in common. Our skills and training compliment each other perfectly. Together we could become very successful here in Serendipity. We would make a good team. Think about it."

            Sariana sat very still. Etion's words would have constituted a marriage proposal back home and they both knew it. She inclined her head in a formal, gracious response. "You honor me, Etion."

            "Think about it," he repeated. "That's all I'm asking." He sat back and picked up his mug. He smiled but his dark eyes remained curiously remote. "I know you have to satisfy yourself first. You have to find out if there is any way you can ever go back to Rendezvous on your own terms. I wasted my first three years here trying to find a way back. But while you search for your own magic ticket, think about the possibilities of a future here with me. We could accomplish a great deal together."

            "Thank you, Etion," Sariana said gently. "You are very kind."

            He grinned unexpectedly. "I'm desperate. If you leave where will I find a sane, intelligent, rational woman with whom I can communicate?"

Sariana laughed and changed the subject.

            Thirty minutes later Sariana finished her tea and smiled regretfully. "I must be getting back. I have to see how much further into bankruptcy Lady Avylyn is going to take the Clan with her plans for the ball. Thank you for the tea, Etion. You'll never know how much I needed the break."

            She got to her feet. "You will be coming to the Avylyns' party, won't you?" "Wouldn't miss it. You're sure the Avylyns' won't mind?"

            "Of course not. They've convinced everyone that having an eastern business manager and an association with a bank run by a financial genius from Rendezvous is very trendy. It puts them at the forefront of fashion and they love it. They've also hinted to everyone that it's a brilliant financial maneuver. Their friends and rivals are all talking about hiring easterners, too. Who knows, Etion? We may be opening up new careers for all the academy rejects from our homeland."

            "An interesting thought. The luck of the day to you, Sariana. I'll see you at the ball." "Luck to you, Etion, and thank you very much for your gracious proposal. I give you my word I will

think about it."

"Do that, Sariana."

            Sariana turned away with a last smile and found herself doing exactly as Etion had asked. She thought about his businesslike, practical and eminently rational proposal for a marriage alliance. He was right, she knew. If she was fated to be stranded in this strange land for the rest of her life, Etion would make a most suitable marriage partner for her. They had a great deal in common - including their exile.

            Strangely enough, she found herself more disturbed by Rakken's proposal than she ought to have been. Not because accepting it would mean giving up on her dreams to go home, but precisely because it had been such a businesslike, practical and reasonable offer of marriage.

            It was ridiculous, but she found herself wishing there had been a little more emotion attached to Etion's offer. She would like to have felt he wanted her for more personal reasons man because they had business interests in common.

            Sariana sighed. She had definitely been living in Serendipity too long if she was starting to think along such lines. Every young woman of a high ranking eastern clan in any social class knew that marriage was not a matter of emotion. It was first and foremost a business arrangement.