Shield's Lady (Lost Colony #3)

Shield's Lady (Lost Colony #3) Page 9

some radical changes in the original plans of the philosophers, but the basic outlines of the class and clan system still held on both continents.

Sariana had learned, however, that those outlines had held much more firmly in the eastern provinces. In the west the social structure had shifted and changed to a major extent. The lines between clans and classes were becoming quite blurred, although the general system was still in place.

Sariana wrinkled her nose in disapproval as she reminded herself that in the west matters had actually gotten to the point where marriages across class lines were common. Romantic liaisons and outright illicit affairs between people of different social classes were even more common. Sariana could only shake her head over the faltering social structure.

It wasn't that her own people were so much more virtuous. They weren't. But they had the good sense and the social awareness to keep their affairs, like their marriages, within class boundaries.

The changes in the social system on the western continent had come as quite a shock to the easterners when both groups had finally rediscovered each other a few years before.

It was ironic that it had been a western invention, the fast, sleek windrigger sailing ships, that had made that rediscovery possible. Contact between the descendants of the original colonists was finally reestablished, but things had changed. Each group had managed to survive without the other.

That was a lesson that would not soon be forgotten by either contingent. It was clear to the people of each continent that, contrary to the predictions of the social philosophers, they really didn't need each other. Both groups tended to be equally arrogant and regard the other group as slightly less advanced and certainly less sophisticated than itself. Trade had been established but socially there was still very little mingling. It was one thing for a member of an eastern continent clan, to trade with someone from a western clan, quite another to contemplate marriage into that clan. One had to maintain one's social standards, even if one occasionally found the clever little gadgets devised by the westerners useful or intriguing.

It was amazing how little easterners knew about westerners, Sariana thought. Take this business of the west having created a whole new social class called Shields. It was a typical piece of western inventiveness. The original social philosophers would have been appalled.

Sariana stared gloomily out the high arched windows that opened onto a garden of vivid flowers, wondering how she had gotten herself into such a predicament.

She was still contemplating her fate when the door to her office swung open without any warning. Sariana didn't swivel around in her chair to see who was standing in the doorway. Her instincts already told her. A ripple of awareness went through her nerve endings and she gritted her teeth.

"The luck of the day to you, Gryph Chassyn," she murmured. Ritualistic greetings and manners were useful to fall back on when one was faced with potential disaster, she decided. Above all else, she must maintain control of this situation.

"Luck to you, lady," Gryph said carelessly. He came silently into the room, the heels of his boots making absolutely no noise on the marble floor. It was a neat trick.

"You might as well turn around and face me," he added dryly. "I've come to talk business with you. Business is your specialty, I'm told. I believe we have a few matters to discuss before I undertake the task of finding the Avylyns' precious prisma cutter. I decided it would be much easier if you and I talked about those matters without any Avylyns present."

Sariana took a firm grip on herself and bravely swung around to confront him. The morning light streaming through the large, arching windows did not alter the impressions she had gotten the night before. If anything the Shield appeared more formidable man he had the previous evening. Of course, she reminded herself, he was also no longer suffering from the effects of Aunt Perla's hypnotic drug.

"How are you feeling?" Sariana inquired politely. Gryph's blue-green eyes flashed with an unreadable expression that was quickly veiled. "Like I've spent the night refighting the fire on board The Serendipity." He smiled mockingly.

"Kind of you to ask, lady. Especially considering the fact that you're the one responsible for my condition last night."

That stung.

"You very obligingly got drunk all on your own and made an attempt to pick up the first attractive woman who happened to sit down at your table," Sariana said in clipped tones, telling herself sternly that she should not allow him to bait her this way. "The Avylyns and I merely took advantage of the situation."

"Is that right?" Gryph threw himself down onto a long, cushioned bench in front of one window. He sat with his back to the light, his legs spread apart, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He regarded Sariana with an assessing gaze. "How did you know I'd be in that particular tavern at that particular time?"

Sariana attempted a modest shrug. "I've had Bryer watching the most likely taverns on a regular basis for the past couple of weeks. Once we learned there was a real live Shield in town it wasn't hard to find out where he was hanging out."

"I wasn't trying to hide. Did it ever occur to you to try walking into that tavern yourself last night, sitting down across from me and making your offer in the normal fashion?"

"Of course not. You had already turned down three polite invitations to do business. There was no reason to think you wouldn't turn down the fourth," she said. "I was forced to take desperate measures. It wasn't as if there was a lot of choice. You Shields seem to have a monopoly on this sort of private mercenary work."

He gave her a brief, predatory grin. "No other social classes have shown any desire or ability to go into business against us."

"That I can believe. Even members of the town guards don't take on private investigative assignments. Something tells me you Shields discourage competition." Sariana sat forward, folding her elbows on the polished desk. "On the other hand, what respectable clan would want its sons growing up to be professional mercenaries? It wasn't just your price that traumatized the Avylyns. They were actually afraid of you."

"A Shield's reputation is his stock in trade," Gryph said with patently false modesty. "But last night I got the impression that you were trying your hand at the intimidation and extortion business yourself. Do they teach you things like that in those fancy business universities in Rendezvous?"

Sariana felt the heat rise in her cheeks. For a few seconds she couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm learning here in Serendipity that one must occasionally make certain concessions to the local way of doing things if one wants to get anything done."