**
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"What’s up, Erin?" Jennifer moves around the table in the informal dining room, her face worried. "I’ve been hearing rumors that there’s going to be a duel, but who? And why?"
"Already? Jeezie petes, word travels fast around here, and not all that accurately, either," I say quietly, sipping my glass of white wine. "No duel, at least not yet. And I hope not at all. But there is trouble brewin’, as Mamaw used to say. Keep your head down and your eyes open, old girl."
"Can’t you tell me what it’s--"
Jennifer closes her mouth and bows her head, semiformally, as I do, too: the Draka stalk into the room, their presence unmistakeable and riveting. A blast of tension hits us as they enter the cool, sunlit dining room, and I shiver. Gwen’s hand signals ever so slightly, and we straighten up. I notice the wine in my glass is moving; I’m trembling that much.
"Let’s be seated, shall we? Marybeth, you may serve dinner now." Gwen takes her place at the high end of the table, in her tallbacked chair, and the rest of the homo drakensis sit down after she has. No one says anything; the children are silent and watchful, their hair bristling slightly. An undercurrent of muted growls seems to float down the table toward where Jennifer and I sit, along with some of the other Household upper-level staff.
We sit down near the door, at the lower end of the table, and I’m glad we’re as far away as we can politely get. Jennifer’s eyes are huge and dark, and she’s gone pale. Never before in the Household have either of us felt this tension, I realize; this is somewhat like the feeling when the Arrival was beginning. When the world was being taken over, overnight, by the huge black, shimmering Draka orbital battle stations. I shudder, remembering the fear and the gut-wrenching tension. It’s the same, now, but on a smaller scale.
Marybeth serves a lovely dinner, fried chicken or roast beef, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, fresh bread hot out of the oven. Its scent, rising to me from my china plate, momentarily soothes me, and I inhale, deeply, trying to retain some semblance of calm. I empty my wine glass, too, and signal for more. Jennifer joins me in a glass this time around, I notice. She’s not eating much; no one down on our end of the table seems to be very hungry. I go ahead and eat; I’m starved after an afternoon playing with Alois. My appetite for food, as well as for sex, has gone up dramatically after the rejuve virus was introduced into my system; I need less sleep and I have a hell of a lot more energy, too. One of the bonuses, I guess, of surviving the first archaic human full rejuve experiments.
The Draka at the other end of the mahogany table are eating massively, as they always do. Marybeth and her servers are kept busy from one end of the meal to the other, bringing new plates and taking away empty ones, refilling wine and juice glasses, bringing coffee after dessert. The kitchen outdid itself on the dessert, a shimmering concoction of chocolate, coconut and cream, and I nibble at the edge of mine. Have to save this for later, when I feel less tense, I think, and push the plate away.
As if that was something Gwen was watching for, she clears her throat loudly, and the room goes absolutely, completely silent. All eyes, human, servus, kawtuh, and drakensis, turn to her as she sits limned in the dying light of the sun, reclining at her leopard-like ease in her chair. She sips her coffee and then places the cup and saucer precisely, silently, on the table before her. Leaf-green, completely cold eyes turn to spear Rudy Heinrikson with a look.
"You have transgressed on your privileges as a guest of my Household. You have behaved in a manner that is entirely reprehensible. I know about Lars, the pretty buck I gave you as a graduation present when you arrived here as a guest of my eldest. I have had him returned to Earth/2, and he’s undergoing surgery as we speak. As you obviously cannot be trusted with a human, I have reclaimed him. Do you wish to challenge that, Heinrikson?"
All eyes swivel to look at the young Draka male, who is fighting to cover a snarl. He’s shredded the linen napkin he was holding, and I notice that Schalk de Lange and two of his black-uniformed Draka security team members have pushed their chairs slightly away from the table. Gwen, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, betrays only the slightest tension by the hint of a quiver in her upper lip. But there’s death in her eyes. I look away, feeling queasy.
"No. I do not wish to challenge that. You may keep the buck, if you wish. He didn’t serve me well, and I disciplined him."
"Discipline, good discipline, is not something that usually requires surgery to repair." Gwen’s voice has gone icy. Jennifer, next to me, suddenly grasps her wine glass and drains it at a single gulp. No one else moves.
Rudy Heinrikson glances coolly over to when Gwen is sitting. "Some families have different ideas about discipline than others, Elder One. My family happens to believe that--"
"Your family is disgraced."
The doors to the room swing open, and reveal a man, a Draka dressed in walking blacks, standing there. "Get up, you young whelp, and come home with me."
Who in the world…I wonder, and then look twice. The family resemblance is impossible to miss, even though the son’s face is contorting now into a rictus hate mask of angular planes and white, sharp teeth. His snarl rips through the room, and he stands, knocking the chair over backwards. It shatters, and pieces skitter around on the marble floor. I jump about out of my seat, and so do most of the other humans and servus.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Is that any way to greet your father, you insolent fool?" The man shrugs into a combat stance, and Gwen stands, as well, joined by Schalk and his two security officers. Alexandra begins to join them, and then slowly obeys Gwen’s hand signal to sit back down and be quiet. I look over at Ariadne, and see the territorial rage burning in her eyes just like her sister’s; Alois is pale, wide eyed and breathing hard.
"I’m of age. You can’t push me around any more, like you’ve always done. And since when do you come running like a lap dog when Planetary Archon Ingolfsson calls, father mine? What deals has she cut you in on? No, don’t bother telling me…I don’t care to know." Rudy turns slowly towards Gwen, and then spits calculatedly on the table before her. "I no longer desire the hospitality of your house, Citizen. You offend me."
"Why you little…" growls Schott de Lange, moving toward the young man with fists clenched. "How dare you…"
"Wait." Gwen’s voice has gone from cold to absolutely glacial; de Lange freezes, looking at her from his crouched position. He’s literally quivering with the need to strike, I realize, and glance at the doorway. No exit there, with Rudy’s father standing there, flanked by two of his servus. I look behind me, at the floor to ceiling French doors, and plan my escape route. I’ll grab Jennifer with one hand, shove her out the door, and then grab Alois and any human I can catch quickly…if I can move that fast.
"You have something to say to me?" Rudy’s voice has grown steadily more and more insolent throughout the entire episode, and I’ve never heard anyone address Muhmis like that.
"Not only are you a fool, you are an embarassment to the Race. I believe your father is well aware of that, now. You may have tried to ignore it before, Alton, but this you can’t deny." Gwendolyn moves from behind the table, and walks toward the young Draka. "And the Race does not tolerate such obvious abberations as yourself, Rudy Heinrikson."
"Archon, please, I can take him to an alienist, have something done…" Alton Heinrikson begins, his voice thick with emotion.
"It’s far too late for that." Gwen stands within reach of Rudy, waiting.
I miss the first blow, a slanting punch launched from Rudy’s left fist, but see the flurry of motion from Gwen as she blocks the attempt and lashes out with a strike of her own. Schalk plants himself and the two Ingolfsson security people between Alton Heinrikson and his son, and the other Draka around the table spring out of the way.
Grabbing Jennifer’s hand, I push her toward the French doors, almost roughly. "Go, now, while you can. Here, take her, too," handing her a stunned and weepy serving wench who’s been cowering by the drapes. "Go on, git!"
I then make my way carefully around the circle of growling, snarling Draka, hearing the meaty thud of impacting flesh on flesh, until I find Alois. He’s standing on the table, avidly watching his mother literally tearing Rudy Heinrikson apart with her bare hands. Not the kind of thing that’s good for any child to watch, Draka or human, I think to myself, and grab him from behind. He jumps and howls, and Gwen’s concentration is broken for a millisecond.
Rudy manages to launch a blow with his one remaining good hand that catches her solidly on the side of her neck, and she staggers. He crows triumphantly, and kicks her legs out from under her with a sweeping side kick, and tries to pounce on top of her. A piece of the chair suddenly sprouts from his gut, though, and he looks down at it in a puzzled manner. A thin drool of blood drips from his mouth, and mixes with the spreading pool already spattering across the white marble floor.
Gwen’s on her knees, in a crouch, and it was her hand that shoved the leg of the broken chair into his belly. She hawk-shrieks herself, and kicks the piece of wood all the way through the young man. I hear, with an oddly detached feeling, the clatter of the hardwood on the floor as it bounces under the table. I also hear Alois’ snarl in my ear as he pummels me. "Let me down, Tantie-ma, let me down!"
"Hush. You’re coming with me; it’s not safe here. Too many Draka, too many chances for you to get hurt. Come on, now, Alois, quit hitting me!" I have him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and have a tight hold on his muscular little legs. But that doesn’t stop him from catching me a good one in the left kidney as I get him out the doors, and my knees buckle with the pain. My vision fogs for a second, and I feel distinctly ill, and then someone’s taking his thrashing form from me. I look up into the furry face of Gwen’s kawtuh, a present from Tamarindus Rohm.
"I’ve got the little master, Sera Erin. I’ll take him to his quarters and calm him down. You’re right, you know--far too dangerous in there for a little one like this." The lilting, sweet sound of the kawtuh’s voice calms me through my pain, and I nod. He jogs away, Alois fussing audibly in his arms:
"Let me down! Damn all your eyes, no one listens to me! I say, let me down!" His voice fades as the boy and the kawtuh disappear inside the House. I look back inside the informal dining room, and then close my eyes. I wish I hadn’t looked, I think miserably to myself, as I hurl my dinner onto the grass. Gwen was standing, blood-spattered, with the glazing eyes of Rudy staring at her. She had his head, torn from his body, at eye level, and was wolf-laughing her triumph. I hunch in the grass, feeling entirely unwell, and then notice black clad boots next to my face.
"Tantie-ma, don’t take on so. It’s all over, and Mama’s fine, except for a few bites and that big bruise on her neck...Tantie-ma, it’s okay, really…" Ariadne stoops down, her face worried, and I try to focus on her green-blue eyes, and ignore the spatters of blood across one of her shoulders. "Here, now, come on, I’ll help you up to your rooms, or maybe to Mama’s suite. She’ll need some help cleaning up." Strong but gentle arms lift me, and I relax in Ariadne’s grip, resting my head against her shoulder (the one that’s not bloody, I note with relief).
"Sorry about barfing…oh, man, I wish Alois hadn’t tried to relocate my kidney," I sigh.
"Better than what happened in there…" Ariadne says, with a savage glee. "Man… I know I’ll never challenge Mama, at least not for a few centuries or so, if ever. Can she fight mean or what?"
"Um, I tried not to watch, actually."
"Race Spirit, I’d never have thought you were so…"
"Wimpy?"
"Yeah!" She laughs, softly, and kisses my forehead. "But that’s okay, too, Tantie-ma. You’re not of the Race, so you aren’t supposed to be very, well, interested in all that. But it was one hell of a fight. He would’ve been brain-wiped, probably, anyway. That’s what his father was talking about."
"It was?" I try to remember, and recall the distraught man saying something about an alienist.
Ariadne gently sits me down on the edge of the couch in her mother’s quarters, and brushes my hair back from my forehead. "Yep. He was seriously abberant; Mama wasn’t joking about tolerance when she said what she said. This afternoon, she called me and Alexandra into her office here and we found out just how twisted Rudy really was. He’d been hiding it for quite some time, but messing with the pretty buck Mama gave him was the final straw. And the most obvious of his little, well, problems. But there are several serfs on PrimeLine’s Mars that have turned up missing. That’s kinda bad, you know. Bad for his family, too. Major social oopsy, Erin."
"Yeah, I guess so…" I pause as Gwen walks through the ironwood doors. She stops and looks at us, smiling slowly.
"Thanks for getting Mr. ‘Nobody listens to me’ out of harm’s way, my sweet. And thanks, too, Ariadne my love, for bringing Tantie-ma Erin up here. I was planning on collecting her on my way up here anyway…" Gwen sighs, and rubs the side of her neck. "Shouldn’t have let that one get through…I’ll be sore for a bit, that’s for sure."
"As long as you’re all right, Mama. And… thank you for defending our honor, Mother." Ariadne stands up, formal now, face serious.
"You’re welcome, light of my heart. I know you’d have done the same thing in my place. Too bad about his father, though…"
"What about him? The social disgrace?" I ask softly, not wanting to intrude but curious.
Gwen squats down smoothly next to me and kisses me lightly on the lips. I try not to notice the slight aftertaste of blood, and kiss her back, relieved beyond words that she really is okay.
"No, my sweetlin’…after the fight, in fact approximately six minutes ago, he committed suicide. By the aircar landing pad."
"Oh, my god! How awful!" I touch her face with my hands, gently, feeling the tender skin around a series of fist-shaped bruises. "Oh, man…"
"What a dishonor for his family," says Ariadne, quietly, shocked. She goes over to look out the window at the star-studded sky. "How terrible."
"Ah, well… these things happen. Alton Heinrikson knew for years that something was seriously wrong with his only son, and he was one of those people who won’t make a fuss for fear of making a fuss. Loss of two Draka for the Race, something I certainly never enjoy, either personally or as Archon, but it’s something that happened. Both were somewhat…inferior specimens." Gwen kisses the tips of my fingers, and then taking my hands, stands me up and begins walking me to the bathing facility.
"I’ll leave you two alone to get cleaned up…and to celebrate…" smirks Ariadne, and nodding at her mother, and winking at me, bounds out of the room, leaving us with quiet for a few moments.
As the bath fills, I strip Gwen down gently, and then she watches me undress, with evident enjoyment. I test the water--hot for me, but lukewarm for Gwen’s tastes. "It’s ready, Muhmis…"
"Good. So am I," she murmurs, coming up behind me and caressing me. Her tongue, hot, long, and slightly pointed, flicks into my ear, and I gasp as her hands slide between my thighs. "Ah… you’re ready, as well, my sweet. Mmmmhhh…"
**
Later…
"I’m really sorry I hit you, Tantie-ma," Alois says, looking down and digging a toe into the carpet. "And that I distracted Mother."
"Good," I say, and crouch down until our faces are level. I smile, and my heart turns over as Alois does too. "It takes courage to apologize when you’re wrong. I’m glad to see my son is brave enough to do the right thing."
He grins at that, giving me a hug and then dashing over to do the same with Erin. Then he peeks back at me. "I still wish I could have seen the fight, mom. You were great."
I laugh, then wince slightly – not enough for a human to notice generally, but Erin does. "It’s all right," I say to quiet her alarm. "I’m just not blocking the pain – by way of teaching myself a lesson. I should have noticed earlier, and done something about it. That young proof that genetics isn’t an exact science yet is no loss, but his father is, in a way… and I’m extremely sorry that buck was injured. No excuse for it."
Jennifer comes in. "Muhmis, I’ve talked to Dianne – she’s putting out the usual difference-of-opinion-leading-to-unfortnate-fatality announcement. She says the rumor mill will have something like the true version out soon as well."
"Good," I say. "An object lesson’s never wasted."
She’s a little pale; I take her scent, and it hints of unhappiness and fear. "You’re a little shaken still, aren’t you?"
"Yes… it was so quick."
"Best over quickly." I look at her. "Draka are like that, Jenny. We’re predators. Don’t forget it."
"Oh, I won’t," she says, rubbing her hands up and down her arms; she has… yes, goosebumps, they’re called.
"Come here." I pull her down on my lap and cradle her. "Shhhh, now. It’s over, everyone’s safe." Erin comes over and puts an arm around her as well. "There now, that’s a good wench. Cry if it’ll help."
When she’s finished sniffling and hiccuping, I carry her over to the bed. She needs reassurance, forgetfullness, and besides, Erin was a little sore with that kidney-punch Alois landed. I still need letdown, after the fight.
"Mind if I stay on the sidelines for a bit, muhmis?" Erin says.
"Oh, we’ll find something for you to do later, sweet," I say, looking down at Jenny affectionately.
She gasps a little as I grip the neckline of her tunic and strip it off her with a single smooth pull. "You’ve gotten a little bigger here since you nursed," I say. Her next gasp turns into an incoherent moan, her fingers tangled in my hair.
**