What's in a name? That which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet.
—From Romeo and Juliet, Act ii, Scene 2 William Shakespeare
VIN SIN CHEL'MARA was not a man accustomed to his delm's close attention. Most especially, he was unaccustomed to the felicity of receiving such attention during his rather belated breakfast.
"How pleasant it must be," Aragon murmured politely, as tea was poured and set before him, "to sleep so far into the day that one may dispose of noon meal and waking meal in one repast. I quite admire the efficiency of such an arrangement."
Since this particular arrangement had been in force for a number of years without awaking the delm's displeasure, his comment now was doubtless prologue to some other, less amiable, subject. chel'Mara inclined his head, as one acknowledging a pleasantry, and poured himself a second glass of wine.
"The single difficulty I detect in such a system," Aragon pursued, "is that it opens one to disadvantage in the matter of collecting rumor and anecdote—vital work, as I am certain you will agree. For an instance, I had today from Delm Guayar an entirely amusing anecdote out of Chonselta, of all places. Had I adopted your strategy of late sleeping, rather than rising early to attend Lady yo'Lanna's breakfast gather, I should have failed of harvesting this amusing—and instructive—tit-bit."
The chel'Mara schooled his face to calmness; deliberately raised his glass and sipped.
"You are behindhand, Vin Sin," his delm chided softly. "Good manners dictate you allow me the pleasure of imparting my news."
Vin Sin chel'Mara did not reign over Solcintra's deepest tables because he was a fool. Still, there was nothing for it but to allow this trick to fall to Aragon and accept whatever chastisement became his due. He was not in the habit of falling under his delm's displeasure, and he considered the odds favorable for a quick recover.
He inclined his head. "Forgive me, sir. I fear I am dreadfully stupid so early in the day. Whatever came out of Chonselta to amuse you?"
"Why, the drollest tale I've heard in many a breakfast gather," Aragon said composedly. "It seems a certain Quenpalt's Casino has opened in Chonselta Port and it is rumored to stand with the best Solcintra has to offer. Last evening, indeed, much of Solcintra undertook the journey to the far side of the world in order to see this wonder for themselves."
"And was reality as pleasing as rumor?"
Aragon pursed his lips in consideration.
"Rumor and reality appear to have agreed splendidly," he said after a moment. "Quenpalt's is, by all accounts, a casino in which one such as yourself, let us say, may be perfectly at ease."
He paused to sip tea. chel'Mara refrained from his wine.
"To make a long tale short," Aragon resumed gently, "it transpires that—again—one such as yourself was present at Quenpalt's last evening, and, having availed himself of certain monies thrown in his direction by a gentleman who has regrettably never mastered the art of pikit, set himself to contend against a walk-in." Aragon gazed pensively into chel'Mara's face.
"There were some oddities attending this walk-in. She was shabby-dressed, according to report, and plain-spoken, when she spoke at all; she did not offer her name, nor was she asked to give it. She was accompanied by two Scouts—one male, one female, both young.
"The shabby lady declared she would stake her quarter-share, some four cantra, according to my information. The gentleman so like yourself plucked four cantra from his bank—and was forestalled by the person he had just bested, who called to mind—quite properly!—certain delicate points of melant'i, in which he was seconded by the male Scout. The Stakes Book was called for and the wager recorded thus: Quarter-share against ship. It was the very first entry, you will be interested to learn, in Quenpalt's Stakes Book." He had recourse to his tea once more. chel'Mara sat like a stone, his hands quite cold.
"So. The shabby lady won her venture—aided once more by the male Scout, who chose, I am a told, an interesting point in the play to settle a debt he had long owed her. The ship of the gentleman so very like yourself changed hands. In the course of recording the win, the shabby lady at last gave her name: Aelliana Caylon."
It was time to have done with this charade. chel'Mara inclined his head with exquisite courtesy.
"So she did."
"So she did," his delm echoed gently. "And, having now heard it twice, the name yet awakes no interest. I fear, Vin Sin, that you have not been as close a student of the world as I had always supposed."
chel'Mara swallowed a sharp return, preserving a courteous countenance with—some—effort.
"Aelliana Caylon," Aragon continued, after a moment spent savoring the last of his tea, "is the third child of the four borne by Birin Caylon, who has the honor to be Mizel." He moved his shoulders. "Mizel totters on the edge of mid-House. It is my notion that it will tumble into Low House, when the present nadelm comes to his own. But that is not the card we must trump."
"Aelliana Caylon," the chel'Mara suggested, with delicate irony, "supports the tottering fortunes of her clan by performing—card tricks, shall we say?"
Aragon raised a considering brow. "It might do," he allowed gently, "although I believe the lady's range to be somewhat wider than mere—card tricks." His eyes sharpened. "Do the ven'Tura Tables wake recollection, Vin Sin?"
"Certainly."
"Ah, delightful. You will then be able to tell me the name of the author of the revision, dated, I believe, eight years ago?"
chel'Mara frowned. "The name? Truly, sir, it was merely this scholar or that. No one I've met."
"Until last evening. How unfortunate, that you were not able to give Honored Scholar of Subrational Mathematics Aelliana Caylon her full bow, upon introduction." Aragon leaned forward, hands flat on the pale cloth.
"The foremost mathematical mind on the planet," he said, very softly, indeed, "who makes the study of random event her speciality. Her thesis—a classic in the field, so Guayar assures me—was entitled, Chaotic Patterning in Pseudorandom Events. In it, the scholar demonstrates the manner in which one may predict card-fall, based upon an ordered diminishment of pooled possibility, as one might find when playing pikit." He leaned back, with a soft sigh.
"By happenstance—I place it no higher!—the pattern which gains the final prize in Scholar Caylon's illustration is Scout's Progress. This is the woman you thought to best at pikit, Vin Sin. Are you not diverted? I assure you that Guayar, who made it his business to be at my side throughout the gather, found the tale amusing in the extreme. Indeed, he repeated it to everyone."
The chel'Mara grit his teeth and met his delm's eye steadily.
"But you do not smile!" Aragon said, sitting back in sudden ease. "My tit-bit has not amused. Never mind, I have an addendum calculated to please. You recall the Scouts?"
"Indeed, sir, I recall them—specifically."
"Ah, then you will certainly know their names."
chel'Mara raised a brow. "Whatever for?"
His delm lifted an admonitory finger. "Now that was careless. One should always know the names of those with whom one is engaged in an affair of Balance. How fortunate it is that I am able to supply you with this vital information. The name of the female Scout is Rema ven'Deelin, Clan Ixin—High House, you perceive. The male is Var Mon pin'Aker, Clan Midys—solidly mid-House. He and Corporal ven'Deelin are partnered. He likewise has the honor of standing cha'leket to one Lyn Den Kochi, whose quarter-share was tragically left behind at Sunrise House three—possibly four—nights ago."
There was silence. chel'Mara stared down into the dark depths of his wine, considering the trap and the skill with which it had been sprung.
Certainly, a cha'leket might undertake Balance on behalf of his foster-kin. That the trap had been set with skill and something of wit made it no easier to bear.
"A nameless lady attended by Scouts approaches your table and calls your play into question before all the world," Aragon said pensively. "Did it not occur to you, Vin Sin, that you might—just possibly—have been set up?"
"Alas, sir, it did not. An error, I admit."
"Do you? But how gracious you are!" The bite of irony in his delm's voice brought chel'Mara's eyes up.
Aragon held his gaze, allowing him to see anger.
"I shall say no more of your carelessness in this matter of last evening," Aragon said in clipped tones, "except that I find you well-rewarded in the loss of your vessel—and that I see no necessity for Aragon to Balance the Caylon's most valuable lesson to yourself. Of this other, however—you will tell me, Vin Sin, if you habitually prey upon halflings and innocents."
chel'Mara felt a flicker of his own anger and lowered his eyes, lest it be seen.
"As you say, sir, the lady was no innocent. For Master Kochi—I fear he forced the matter and then did not know when to bow away."
"And you, most naturally, gave him no hint, but continued to play until he had lost not merely this quarter's share but significant amounts from future shares. You waited, in fact, for his cha'leket to comprehend the situation and act to end it. After all, Master Kochi has the accumulated wisdom of seventeen entire Standards to support him. His cha'leket, I believe, is every day of eighteen."
"He was cleared to play," chel'Mara said flatly. "Am I to be held as nanny for every babe with the means to buy a deck?"
"I see. You consider that fleecing children adds to your melant'i. I am desolate to inform you that your delm considers otherwise. You will restore Master Kochi to his quarter-share and relieve him of the burden of future debt. You will accomplish these things before Prime meal this evening. I do expect you to dine at home this evening, Vin Sin."
chel'Mara allowed surprise to show. "Certainly I shall undertake your orders regarding Master Kochi, sir. However, I am engaged to dine with—"
"Cancel it." Aragon held out his empty cup and chel'Mara, perforce, poured tea. His delm sipped. "Excellent. Yes." He set the cup aside and met chel'Mara's eyes with a cool smile.
"You think me harsh, but indeed my concern is solely for yourself, that you have opportunity to take proper leave of your close-kin."
"Leave-taking?" The chel'Mara fairly gaped. "I have no plans to travel, sir."
"Ah, I have been maladroit! Your delm, Vin Sin, requires you to travel on business of the clan. A bunk has been reserved in your name aboard Randall's Renegade, which breaks orbit an hour before Solcintra midnight. Prime has been set up an hour, to accommodate the necessity of your early departure."
chel'Mara sat still, the chill having moved from his hands to his belly.
"If I have indeed purchased so large a share of my delm's displeasure in the matters of Master Kochi and Scholar Caylon, I am of course desolate," he said, speaking gently, indeed. "But—sent off-world on a Terran trampship? Surely, sir—"
Aragon held up a hand. "You are about to say that such a measure is over-Balance, are you not? I repeat that the Caylon's instruction on her own behalf surpasses anything I might undertake for her. As for Master Kochi, I believe a return of his losses and relief from the specter of indebtedness shall settle his account fairly, with additional benefit accruing him through the vehicle of a very stern fright." He sipped tea. "Yes, I think we emerge a little to the good from your encounter with Master Kochi."
"Then this travel, this—ship. . ."
"Ah, yes." He leaned back in his chair, hands cradling his cup. "Guayar and I are well-known to each other," he said, at what one who did not know him might consider a tangent. "We are not comrades, you understand—the interests of our Houses but rarely intersect. And yet, I have known Guayar many years, since before ever the Ring was set upon his finger. His is a stringent melant'i, I do allow you that. But I have never known him spiteful, Vin Sin, nor inclined to go beyond verifiable certainties in discussion."
chel'Mara reached for his glass, downed the half of it in one swallow. It met the roil in his belly like oil poured on live flame.
"So," Aragon said softly. "I offered Guayar a ride to his next appointment as we left yo'Lanna's, which he was gracious enough to accept. His grace extended to a recitation of some of your past activities, and a candid avowal of concern."
chel'Mara cleared his throat. "Surely, sir, rumor and—"
"I spent the remainder of my morning verifying Guayar's information," Aragon continued, "which was—illuminating." He raised his eyes and chel'Mara could not look away.
"You may not be aware of certain inclinations of Aragon's fortunes—indeed, you concern yourself so little with the business of the House, that I am persuaded you cannot know!—but for the past several years we have been in a state of—mild, but worrisome—disadvantage. Interest rates rise by a point. Warranty periods are made shorter. Surcharges are added to the most commonplace of orders. Contract renewals are written so tightly one might almost suppose dea'Gauss himself had put his hand upon each. And I wondered, Vin Sin. I wondered, why. Guayar has shown me the answer, and I count myself in his debt."
"Sir—"
"No less than three delms of clans with which we do business regularly lost—catastrophically lost—to you at play—two of them when they were no older than Master Kochi. Four thodelms, an equal number of nadelms—and this does not begin to account for the favored youngers and cha'lekets who have been dealt public humiliation at your table since you reached your majority." He sighed, abruptly.
"I had known you were expensive. It is my error, that I failed to know how expensive. Now that I am informed, my duty is plain. It may be that the clan can yet recover something of value from you. The attempt must be made, else I am remiss in my duty to those others I hold in care."
The chel'Mara sat with his hands in his lap, thinking, this cannot be happening. And yet, incredibly, his delm continued, as if he were in verymost earnest.
"You will be aboard Randall's Renegade this evening, Vin Sin. My own car will bear you to the shuttle. In due time, you will be set down upon Aedryr, where you will be met by your aunt my sister Sofi pel'Tegin, who will conduct you to the family holding and instruct you in your responsibilities. I will tell you that I believe those responsibilities will at first have to do with mastering the recipes of various soil mixtures required to sustain the plants grown at the holding. The major portion of the holding's income derives from these same plants, so you will readily understand that a thorough knowledge of soil is of utmost importance."
chel'Mara licked his lips. "Uncle. . ."
Aragon reached into his sleeve and produced a card.
"Your identification card. I council you to guard it closely, as it is necessary to present it whenever you wish to travel beyond the land to which you are registered."
The card was extended toward him. chel'Mara raised an arm grown heavy with dread and forced nerveless fingers to grip the slick plastic. He took a rather ragged breath and looked into his delm's face.
"How long?"
Aragon sipped the last of his tea and put the cup down. "Your aunt appears confident that you will be able to master the intricacies of the House's business on Aedryr in five Standard years. I leave it to her judgment, if you require a longer curriculum."
"Five Standards." On a farm? Mastering the mixtures of soils? It was a jest. It must be a—
Aragon rose. chel'Mara rose as well and made his bow, barely attending what he did.
"Until Prime, then," Aragon said, and turned. Halfway down the room, he checked, as if he had bethought himself of something else. chel'Mara sighed, feeling his heart lift, for now, surely, his delm would reveal the jest and—
"I had almost forgot, Vin Sin, the most diverting thing imaginable! Do you care to hear?"
He forced his lips into a smile and bowed lightly. "Why, certainly, sir."
"Ah, good. This planet—Aedryr. Gaming is unlawful by order of the planetary government. Anyone found with so little as a deck of cards in his possession is favored with a Standard of government labor, no appeal. Is it not amusing? Good day to you."
Aragon was gone.
chel'Mara sank down into his chair and closed his eyes, the thin plastic card gripped tight between his fingers.
He had never felt less like laughing.
IT WAS EARLY afternoon in Chonselta.
Aelliana began the walk from the train station to Mizel's Clanhouse with an absurdly light heart. The keys to her ship hung about her neck on a chain provided by Jon dea'Cort.
Using Binjali's comm, she had verified the transfer of ownership, opened a ship's account with the Port Master's Office and transferred her hoarded bonus money from Chonselta Tech's in-house bank.
She had perused Ride the Luck's regular maintenance records, finding also that the ship's berthing at Binjali Repair Shop was paid a full year ahead.
"Shall I refund that amount to Lord chel'Mara?" she had asked Jon dea'Cort doubtfully.
The old Scout snorted. "Ship paid the berthing fee out of its former account. The chel'Mara's arrangement was that he paid in advance without benefit of refund, should he decide to berth elsewhere. Your luck, math teacher."
"I suppose. . ."
She had been introduced to Master dea'Cort's apprentice, a compact and cheerful person who spoke with a marked Outworld accent.
"Trilla, give greeting to Aelliana Caylon, math teacher and owner of Ride the Luck."
"Aelliana Caylon." The bow was crisp and matter-of-fact, augmented by a smile and a flash of bright eyes. "Good lifting."
"Thank you," Aelliana said, returning the bow with relief. No embarrassing respect from Trilla, thank gods; merely a very Scout-like acceptance of what was.
Departing Binjali's, she had not forgotten to stop at the Ormit Fund's Office and make disposition of her quarter-share before catching the ferry to Chonselta.
Now, heading home lighthearted and not a bit weary, she re-assessed her position.
By her reckoning, she had one year to achieve a first class piloting license, learn Terran and garner what money she might. The delm had given her a year, after all, to prove her point regarding the investment of funds. Ran Eld would be held in check for precisely that long, saving Aelliana did nothing to provoke him or to arouse his suspicions.
So be it. She had ten years' practice of appeasing Ran Eld. For Ride the Luck—for freedom—she could endure one year more.
She walked up Raingleam Street, rapt and unseeing, so that her sister's voice gave her a severe start.
"Aelliana!" Sinit caught her sleeve and tugged her hurriedly up-street. "Come in the back way, do. Ran Eld's got his eye on the front door." She giggled. "Primed to ring down a terrifying scold!"
She turned stricken eyes to her sister's face. "What have I done now?"
"Well, you didn't come down to breakfast," Sinit said, turning into the back courtway, Aelliana firmly in tow. "That annoyed him. He sent Voni up to rouse you, but you weren't in your room. That annoyed him even more—you know what Ran Eld is. Then it transpired you weren't in the house at all!" She grinned and paused to work the latch on Mizel's gateway.
"Voni says your bed hadn't been slept in. She says you have a lover." She looked up, eyes brimming laughter. "Ran Eld's not about to stand for that!"
"A lover?" Aelliana stared, stone-still. "Voni thinks I have a lover?"
"Why not?" Sinit asked matter-of-factly. "Go in—quickly! Up the serving stairs and into your room—and mind you remember to come down to Prime!" She gave Aelliana a firm push and turned back to latch the gate.
For one long moment, Aelliana hesitated, heart pounding.
Then she turned and flew into the house, taking the thin back stairs two at a time.
Silent as a Scout, she negotiated the short hallway leading to her rooms, slipped inside and—futile gesture!—locked the door behind her.
She affected not to see the house comm's blinking message-waiting light, opaqued the windows and crossed to the narrow bed.
Fully clothed, she lay upon the coverlet, closed her eyes—and slept.