Competitions (16 page)

The ladies exchanged a glance without saying anything, both of them looking faintly stunned, and then Jovvi raised her brows.

“That
would
explain why we’re suddenly being treated so deferentially,” she suggested, her tone nevertheless sounding faintly skeptical. “Something still doesn’t feel
quite
right, though, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it. Well, hopefully it will come to me later, but right now I have a question: why
two
representatives of Water magic?”

“Probably because Holter and I have been runnin’ neck and neck until now,” Vallant put in when Holter refused with a headshake to voice his own theories. “They must be waitin’ to see which of us will do better, and then they’ll choose that one.”

“So we really do have to be as good as possible to qualify,” Tamrissa said, but to the group in general rather than to him. “Sometimes I get the feeling that being
too
good will ruin our chances rather than help them, but that’s ridiculous. If they’re putting together challenging Blendings, they’ll want the best of the best.”

“They
should
want that,” Jovvi agreed, “but sometimes I get the same feeling. We’ll have to try to find out, but let’s not be obvious about it. If the opening to ask a useful question doesn’t come up naturally in casual conversation, don’t anyone
bring
it up. I can’t get past the feeling that we’re walking a tightrope here, and one misstep is all it will take to plunge us into the abyss. It’s possible I’m just being a silly woman about all this…”

She let her words trail off as she glanced around, making the statement a question that any or all of them were free to answer. No one accepted the offer, though, so Vallant put in his own copper’s worth.

“If you’re bein’ a silly woman, then I’m bein’ the same,” he admitted heavily, doing no more than looking down at the brandy he held. “I keep gettin’ a feelin’ very much like yours, which takes the … pleasurable excitement from the possibility of bein’ put in a challengin’ Blendin’. If they’ve been handin’ out Adept positions to people who don’t deserve them, what about the Seated Blendin’ itself?”

“I’d say that was another matter entirely,” Coll protested while everyone else made sounds which showed their disturbance over the idea. “The general public has no idea about what goes on in these testing facilities, so they can get away with just about anything they please. The major competitions are another matter entirely, which people travel for days to come to see. With anything that public, they
have
to play it straight.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Mardimil said thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen a challenge involving the Blending, of course, but I did attend one against the Seated High in Water magic. The competition took place in front of a very large audience, and there was no doubt about the outcome. The challenger seemed very strong, but the Seated High proved stronger.”

“So we may have a chance after all,” Tamrissa said, her brows raised in partial disbelief just as Jovvi’s had been. “I think what we have to decide now is whether or not to go for it. Please, Dom Holter, tell us your opinion. You’re the only one of us who seems to have done any real thinking about this.”

“Yeah, I done some thinkin’ on it, ma’am, but I don’t see as how it helps much,” Holter answered slowly, obviously reluctant to speak but unable to refuse Tamrissa. “It waren’t me who made the real point, but Dom Mardimil there. He said like as not we ain’t gonna get th’ choice, just have it made
fer
us. That sounds like a purty fair guess t’me, so I’ll jest go along with ’er.”

“A statement which gives us all something to think about,” Jovvi suggested in a distracted way. “It might be best if we pretend to be partying for a while, and return to serious conversation after we’ve had the chance to consider what we’ve heard. Does anyone think we ought not to?”

No one spoke up to disagree with the suggestion, so the fairly tight group simply dissolved a bit as people moved a step or two away to drink their brandy and do some thinking. Vallant finally took a sip from his own glass, but just a sip to bolster his courage. The time had come to speak to Tamrissa, and he wasn’t
about
to play the coward and let it slip past.

The object of his intentions stood alone just a few feet away, clearly doing the thinking Jovvi had mentioned. Vallant moved slowly and calmly until he stood beside her, his back to most of the others.

“Before you dismiss me again, you’d better add
this
to your thinkin’,” he said very softly. “If we do get chosen to be a challengin’ Blendin’, we’ll all have to work together in order to win. If you keep tryin’ to pretend I’m not even alive, you could be the reason we lose.”

“You’re forgetting about Dom Holter,” she said, still not looking at him but surprising him by responding without hesitation. “He could be the one chosen to represent Water magic, and then there won’t be a problem.”

Vallant blinked, not having seriously considered that even for a moment. The outlook was no reflection on Holter and his abilities, simply an awareness of Vallant’s own.

“But what if he isn’t chosen instead of me?” Vallant pursued almost at once. “I happen to like Holter and respect what he can do, but I’m the better practitioner. Once I prove that everyone will be forced to acknowledge it, so I repeat: Are you goin’ to keep on blamin’ me for somethin’ I’m not guilty of and make us lose, or will you listen to reason and bring us closer to winnin’?”

She hesitated a brief moment, still gazing at the lantern-lit garden, and then she showed a very odd smile.

“Isn’t it strange how our chances of winning have suddenly come to depend on my listening to
you
,” she said, a very faint tremor in her voice. “It so happens I don’t believe that, Dom Ro, so please find someone else to tell your tall stories to. This incredulous little girl simply isn’t interested.”

“But why
not
?” Vallant demanded, fighting to keep his voice soft and his temper from flaring out of control. “You know I’m not guilty of anythin’, so why can’t we go back to the way things were before two vindictive people forced their way in here and between us?”

“Because the … ‘way things were’ should never have happened,” she replied in a whisper, now looking down at the brandy glass in her hands. “I’ve … thought about the whole thing, and I realize now that I was wrong to lead you on. The truth is I’m … involved with a large number of other men, so becoming involved with you as well would simply be unfair. I know you dislike the idea of … sharing a woman, so it would be best if we forgot the entire thing. Please excuse me now.”

With that she hurried away from him, and Vallant was too open-mouthed with confusion and startlement to even consider following. She’d been “leading him on?” How? By making him all but drag her out for a simple walk in the garden? And was he really supposed to believe that
she
was involved with a “large number” of other men? He almost wished she was, and with men who would give her pleasure rather than pain. She’d had enough hurt in her life to justify any change for the better.

But
he
wanted to be the one to give her that pleasure, along with excellent reasons for letting him be the only man to do it. He’d been raised to understand that the decision should always be the woman’s choice, and it was his place to influence her choice only with superior ability, not with superior strength. He’d never minded rising to the challenge, so to speak, one of the things which had made him so popular with the ladies.

So where could she have gotten the idea that he disliked having to share a woman? It was true he had no intentions of sharing Tamrissa once he made her his wife, but if she needed something like that to make her really happy… He would do his best to make it unnecessary, but if his best wasn’t good enough and her happiness depended on it… Damn it, where
had
she gotten those ridiculous ideas?

Vallant took a calming sip of brandy, trying to rid himself of the feeling that he stood alone on the deck of a sinking ship without a single bit of dry land in sight. He would even have settled for a log canoe if it were seaworthy, and would refrain from spinning him around in dizzying circles. He’d managed to get Tamrissa to talk to him, but the conversation had ended with her being “honest” and “fair” with him. The whole thing was ridiculous, but what was he supposed to do now?

Frustration returned to Vallant with the question, and it was only worsened by seeing Coll in what looked like a pleasant conversation with Jovvi. He wanted to have the same with Tamrissa, but the maddening woman had gone to the refreshment table, and was apparently replacing her glass of brandy with a cup of tea. What
could
he say to her…?

And then an idea came, one that wasn’t very nice but which still made Vallant grin slightly. So Tamrissa was involved with a “large number” of other men, was she? Only a real innocent would say something like that and expect to be believed, but she was the one who’d opened the door. If he pretended to be hurt by having been “led on” by her, he could then insist that the only way she might make it right was to give
him
what she was giving all those other men.

Vallant chuckled just a little as he watched Tamrissa, knowing he would never actually force her into his bed. His aim would be to get her to admit she was spinning yarns, and then they could go on from there. But if she refused to admit it and became determined to prove she spoke the truth, there was only one thing he would accept as proof. The choice would be hers, but then it would be his turn to exercise some ability…

Vallant quickly added some details to his plan, then began to walk toward Tamrissa to start it. She stood gulping her tea, something she’d certainly want to do again once he began to speak to her, but he was only half way there when an interruption came. One of the house servants appeared on the path, and cleared his throat loudly for attention.

“Please excuse the interruption, gentles,” he said when he got that attention. “I must announce that there’s a caller at the door.”

Everyone but Pagin Holter seemed to freeze in place, and that included Vallant. They hadn’t yet been told who the caller was for, but each of them stood clenched in the fist of dread. Someone was about to be given trouble again, but which of them? That was the question: which…?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Delin Moord spent a bit longer listening to Bron tell everyone just how much their abilities should “improve” by the following week, and then he encouraged the meeting to end. They all had other demands on their time, demands which couldn’t be ignored without making people suspicious. If their group was to be seen as having no intentions concerning winning the competition, they couldn’t afford to spend too much time discussing the matter.

And Delin had something fairly important to take care of. Homin needed help with his father’s new wife, and Homin was going to get it. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the purpose of the group, which was what interfering with one of its members really accomplished…

“I’m ready, Delin,” Homin said, bringing Delin out of his thoughts. “Shall we travel together in one carriage, letting the other one follow?”

“Yes, and we’ll use mine,” Delin said, seeing that Bron and Selendi were already at the front door, being shown out by Kambil. “But let’s not advertise your predicament. If anyone asks, we’re merely going to the local entertainment district for some tea and private conversation.”

Homin nodded jerkily, as though he would find it possible to disobey even a suggestion, then trailed along behind Delin to the door. Delin used warmth when he thanked Kambil for the hospitality of his house, deliberately reminding himself that Kambil
had
acted for the good of the group. He still didn’t really like the man, but that was unimportant beside the fact that Kambil was now one of
his
.

Delin went to his carriage while Homin scurried to his own to tell his driver to follow, using the time to give his own driver instructions. When Homin finally joined him, puffing a bit from having hurried, they were immediately off.

“You do remember, I hope, that I have a stop to make before we continue on to your house,” Delin said as Homin settled himself on the seat opposite. He hadn’t dared to sit
next
to Delin, of course, which showed there was
some
hope for him. “It shouldn’t take
too
long, but when a lady is involved a gentleman should never rush.”

“Oh, I quite understand,” Homin assured him, nevertheless paling a bit. “You’ll need to mention to Elfini that the delay was on your behalf, and hopefully she’ll be reasonable about it.”

“I’m certain she’ll be reasonable,” Delin assured him, smiling as he made himself more comfortable. “For some reason the ladies look upon me rather favorably, and I expect Elfini to be no different.”

Homin made a sound that was more hopeful agreement than certainty, then remained silent. Which was quite useful, as Delin had plans to make.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their local entertainment district, an area of perhaps two blocks in the center of their residential district. Going into the city proper for a simple afternoon or evening out would have been too bothersome for people like them, who lived a fair distance out, so entertainment districts had been approved and built. There were dining parlors for full meals, tea rooms for snacks, theaters for plays and auditoriums for music recitals.

There were also gambling parlors and pleasure parlors, but those were devoted to people with more sophisticated tastes than the ordinary. They were located behind the small number of exclusive shops the district also boasted, and one had to be brought to them by someone who was already a member. Delin had meant to go there after the meeting, but now his plans had changed. And he wouldn’t have vouched for Homin in any event. Those places had certain standards, and people like Homin simply didn’t measure up.

His carriage took them instead to one of the tea rooms, one which also offered discreet apartments on its upper floors for brief or long term rentals. Delin was one of those few who kept a permanent second home there, one no one else knew about. The ladies he brought to the apartment assumed he’d rented it for the afternoon or evening, and Delin had never disabused them of the notion.