Chapter 8

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All the way back from the police department Taer was quietly angry. Not at anyone in particular, but at reality in general. It had been a pretty crappy day. First, she'd been thwarted in the Consulate court. Actually, technically, she didn't have to go: after all, she was part of the Lord's Arm and not answerable to a court, not even the Consulate Court. If anything, it's up to Lord Cassard. But after consulting with Baron Kouifi, they both decided it was not worth aggravating relations with the court on the eve of the hearing. So instead of a reception at the Emerald Gardens, she went to the Consulate's secretariat.

No good deed goes unpunished. In the end, Daim Azkrilla Vitas, who "well, we're noblemen, too," tortured her with absolutely idiotic questions about Lord Cassard for four hours, hanging on Taer with a deadly grip whenever she tried to escape under plausible pretext.

"Well, there's so much I haven't asked yet!" Could this moth-beaten maiden be just a secret admirer of Lord Cassard? When she finally managed to fend off the official zeal of the Daim Azkrilla, it turned out that her flyer had been stolen by a police tow truck. Those blind brats of the dumbest zwigolot had managed not to notice the markings of Fyron's House on the boards nor the 'diplomatic number' on the responder. She spent a half-hour yelling at the innocents, first the droids, then the tow truck clerks, while they searched for the exact location of her car. She took the monorail to the police station in the evening. After the ride in the crowded carriage, she was in such a "good mood" that she didn't even have to say anything in the car park - after seeing her face, the terrified attendants found the flyer in less than a minute and a half.

On arrival at the Emerald Gardens, Taer was informed that Lord Cassard had departed for an unknown destination. She almost made a scandal out of inertia, but she contained herself in time to yell at the pilot, who was still waiting for Lord Cassard and was unaware that he had been gone for half an hour.

The lord's comm did not answer, nor was he at the castle. She called a couple of his favorite clubs. But he didn't show up there. Half an hour later she was already beginning to panic quietly, wondering what she should say to the Countess of Durlurl about the Lord's disappearance, when suddenly a call came from the retainers. Police officers had picked up the stunned nobles, who had apparently also been robbed. One of the nobles was identified as Lord Cassard and, of course, the retainers were informed.

Ten minutes later, having broken most of the speed limit regulations, Taer was at the door of the Fourteenth Department, where the Lord had been brought. She was met by the head of the department in the reception area:

"Alozar Riemer, Fourteenth Department," the fat-looking man in the ceremonial blue tunic with gold embroidery introduced himself wearily. He was, it was evident, noticeably overdue because of the discovery of the robbed nobles.

"Guardsman Taer Diltar, Lord Cassard's arm, and his personal security specialist," Taer mentally cursed the wreckers once more as she introduced herself - the journey in the overcrowded monorail car had not gone unnoticed for her white tunic. "As far as I know, you have Lord Allesandro Cassard?"

"Yes, Mistress Diltar, he was picked up by a unit from our department and is now in my office," Alozar Rimmer thought for a moment before adding. "According to our medic, he's fine."

"Take me to him. and I have a request for of you, Alozar, which I hope will be met with understanding."

"Please follow me," the headman bowed slightly, making an inviting gesture with his hand and leading Taer into the back of the building.

Along with Taer, a young officer with a thick leather folder, probably an assistant, silently shadowed the boss.

The Head of the Department proved to be an understanding man: his request to remove the journalists who had begun to assemble there from the car park was met with no objections. As they made their way to his office, where the recovered lords were, Taer discussed with Alozar Rimmer what he should say to the press and what would displease His Lordship and House Fyron.

"Don't worry, Mistress Diltar, I understand," the round-faced department head assured her with a little cover of his eyes. "No details will get on HV. Will you or the Retainers of House Fyron be handling this case from your side?"

"Retainers," Taer hated boring bureaucratic correspondence and shied away from it at every opportunity. "But I'd like to see the reports from the experts and the team that picked up the lord."

"Of course, Mistress," the head looked expressively at his subordinate, and the latter, without stopping, quickly opened his file and drew out two Info Strings. "Here they are. One is the expert assessment, and the other is the report of the team that found the lord."

Alozar Rimmer's attitude and diligence flattered Taer, and she made a mental note: I must hint to the retainers to take note of Mr. Warden.

In the office of the head, there was Lord Cassard himself and a young nobleman of some sort. Both looked awful - half-dressed and dirty. The pallid expression on their pale faces and the dark circles under their eyes indicated that post-paralysis syndrome was in full swing, but the lord was still looking not so bad.

What the shadows were he doing there? What if he'd been killed? Countess Durlurl would have skinned me. Alive. Infantile idiot! Taer began to get worked up again.

Already in the flyer, she pounced on "his lordship" with questions. The answers dumbfounded her:

A duel?! Great Shadows, a duel?!

Allesandro Cassard and the word 'duel' did not connect. The lord was a mediocre swordsman and a terrible marksman. And so the constant refusals to all the challenges he received were certainly a wise decision. Though, this did not help his reputation among guardsmen and young nobles. However, Lord Cassard had always not cared what others thought of him.

And there's a duel. And with Lord Lister as second, Taer glanced furtively at her lord as if doubting that this very man was involved in the duel. He sat staring thoughtfully out the window. Hmmm... Where, what comes from? Once a year and a stick is a blaster. But it looks like if the robbers get caught, I should ask for a reduced sentence - they just saved my career!

Smiling at her thoughts, Taer concentrated on piloting again - the lights of the Blue Flame Castle flashed to the port side and it was time to come in for a landing.

On arrival the lord declined supper and went straight to bed, which was understandable: after the stunner, everyone was always dizzy and their heads were pounding. In such a state, even if you wanted to eat, you couldn't eat a bite in your mouth.

Taer drove the flyer into the garage and returned to the grounds in front of the castle. Barra was still there. He must have been waiting for her.

"I see the lord has made a full recovery," grinned the steward, taking a seat on the steps leading up to the castle. "He looked as if he'd been drinking for a week. What brothel did you find him in?"

Taer hummed back. The nights were warm in the golden season, the breeze carrying the scent of wet leaves from the garden and the faint singing of finches. She could talk, she decided, sitting down next to him on the stairs, and there were no extra ears here.

"In the Fourteenth Police Department," the specialist smiled slyly and added. "But I'll bet you ten denarii you'll never guess why he got there."

"Don't keep me in suspense. Tell me."

"A duel!" Taer declared, admiring the impression she had made.

The dumbfounded Barra was silent for a while, then let out a long breath, waving his hand:

"Yeah... how did he stay alive? You might as well go to the temple and take a vow to Ir'Maridae for keeping him safe."

Taer arched an eyebrow in surprise:

"I haven't noticed you being particularly religious before."

"You start..." Barra sighed sadly, lowering his head. "I've been worried sick about him since he was poisoned. And then, boom, there was a duel. A duel. You've got that fire in your eye, guardsman. You're stupid, but think of others!" I could hear sincere resentment in his voice. "You, if anything, you go back to the guard, but me? The Office will write so much stuff on me... enough for two lifetimes sentences to get clean before the new master."

So you, Mr. Weyoun Barra, must have dirty hands. You're a fool, Taer, a fool! You should have known the steward of the manor wasn't living off his wages. They'll write him up, all right. Say you take cashback from contracts and share them with the inspectors from the Office.

As the true cause of the steward's genuine frustration dawned on Taer, her gaze filled with contempt. Which, however, disappeared instantly when Barra looked up at her:

"Come on. It was all right!" The girl gave the steward a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "No more dueling, and I'll look after the rest. Right, I'll be off."

She stood up and mechanically shook off her trousers.

"By the way, Barra, honey, make arrangements for a nice big dinner, preferably straight to my room," she folded her arms in a feigned prayer and made herself look as unhappy as possible. "I have police reports to read and requests for retainer escorts to confirm, and I'm starving because I've been on my feet all day."

"All right, go ahead, I'll do it. Give you free rein, and you'll eat on the run, no respect for tradition."

Taer fluttered her arms in response and smiled charmingly:

Real guardsmen can eat and sleep in any condition.

After saying goodbye to Barra, she walked briskly toward her room. And as she moved further away from the steward her face grew darker and darker:

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What an asshole, huh? Generations of faithless service to the House of Fyron. Yeah.

Taer remembered exactly how one of the High Society shows had said that Lord Cassard's servants were the highest paid and received, on average, twice as much as the others. And still, not enough, Taer finally reached her room and, continuing to radiate anger, plumped into a chair:

No, Lord Cassard could be accused of many things, but he was never stingy. He always helped out with money if something happened, even to his servants. That asshole had gotten his son into Riena University when he'd been kicked out of Tallana University. Gave him a scholarship.

The girl's wave of righteous anger was interrupted by a sneaky little voice that surfaced from somewhere deep in her subconscious, reminding her that she was scared for her career, too.

At least I didn't stoop to stealing and always carried out my duties honestly!

It's just that everyone has their price. Here's if you were offered nobility..., the voice countered.

Taer honestly tried to imagine how she would respond to the nobility's offer and, sensing the treacherous insecurity deep down, became even angrier, but now at herself. And since anger at herself is a shame, and shame she did not intend to feel anymore, she ordered herself to "start thinking like a professional and an intelligence officer rather than a parody of a Guardsman", and to distract herself, she delved deeper into police reports.

The reports had a miraculous effect - within five minutes, she was wading through mighty police procedural language, oblivious of all her mental anguish. She was so engrossed that she didn't even get a good look at who had brought her food. She poked her analyzer at all the dishes, noting to herself that her paranoia seemed to be exceeding the limits of her profession.

And so she was fascinated by the fact that the whole robbery story was an ineptly orchestrated set-up. If the report is to be believed, some of the "walkers" were stunned with a heavy stun gun and a certain Count Areno with a non-lethal blaster, presumably from two R-55. Incidentally, Count Areno, as the report said, was from House Peltar. The Peltarians had always been enemies of House Fyron and, in recent years, had been hated so fiercely.

The shadows with him, though, with the Peltarians, what interesting robbers had appeared. Two with blaster rifles and one with a heavy stun gun.

Taer knew from personal experience what a heavy stun gun was - an unwieldy dummy almost as long as a man. The instructors loved to give it as a 'permanent weapon' to delinquent cadets.

Yes, the perfect weapon for robbers, which, by the way, according to witnesses, was well over three - five to ten.

And the "robbers" were retreating in two aerocars, yep.

The chances that a group with a heavy stun gun accidentally stumbled upon Lord Cassard just as he was about to engage in a duel on a very deserted southern boardwalk were so negligible that there was no point in considering it as a working theory.

So they were there for a reason. The question is, why were they there? Well, they weren't there to rob, were they? Although twenty thousand danarii on either side is a very substantial sum, Taer stripped off her uniform and, throwing it into the utility block, headed for the shower. Turning on the massage mode, she stood in the shower, scrolling through the various reasons for the 'robbers' attack in her mind.

She somehow could not believe in a trivial robbery: first, the swords, which were half the value of the stolen goods, would be very hard to sell. Second, how did the robbers know about the place and time of the duel? This was nonsense! She tried to look at the question from another angle, wondering who could benefit from the attack. It appeared that the attack was most beneficial to Lord Cassard - it saved his life. But he simply could not have organized the attack so quickly and not let her know.

Who else could have benefited? You!

But for herself, Taer could say with absolute certainty that she had done nothing of the sort; she had an ironclad alibi.

There are also Barra and many others who are scared shitless of the revision that will follow the lord's death. The Office, for example.

She liked the office option much more, there was clearly a motive here, but the opportunity...

Then the piercing beep of the communicator left in the bedroom intruded on her thoughts. After putting her face under the tight jets, Taer mentally cursed the men who had pulled her out of the shower and followed the communicator, leaving puddles on the carpet behind her. It was Barra, telling her that Baroness Rionale's yacht would be arriving in about ten minutes, and it would be nice if Taer was among the greeters.

"Okay, I will," she groaned, tossing the comm onto the bed, cursing once more at those who interfered with her plans and going to dry her hair. A swim in the pool before bed was not going to happen.

Ten minutes later, the absolutely perfect Taer in her fresh uniform was standing on the grounds in front of the castle with Barra, waiting for the Baroness to arrive. Soon the group of moving lights in the night sky began to grow rapidly gradually, turning into a yacht. The milky white hull hovered over the treetops, and the yacht humming quietly with its thrust generators began to descend to the site.

Yes, Faison the Silver Arrow, there's a three-year waiting list for them, someone must have given them to her, Taer thought with mild envy.

The yacht was very beautiful: the elongated hull with its swift outline, the slightly lowered bow, and the short wings of the gravel stabilizers made her look like a bird of prey. The perfect whiteness of the hull accentuated the intricate black ornamentation that runs along the sides. In the center of the side, the ornament became the Baroness's monogram, with a small scarlet griffin glowing in a bloody drop in the middle. Without letting go of the supports, the yacht froze at palm height, the airlock door opened with a faint rustle, and Baroness Rionale herself appeared in the glowing aperture.

"Welcome, Your Ladyship!" Barra bowed, simultaneously offering his hand to the Baroness.

"Thank you, Barra!" Leaning on his arm, the baroness jumped to the ground and turned to Taer with a beaming smile. "I'm so glad to see you again, Taer, and that in spite of the late hour, you were able to meet me. Where is Allesandro?"

"Lord Cassard is not feeling well and has gone to bed. We thought you'd be arriving tomorrow morning," Taer said in a formal tone and added with a cold smile. "It's good to see you, too, Kayrin."

"We had a very successful jump. We were seven hours ahead of schedule," the Baroness smiled apologetically. "And I decided that hanging around in orbit all that time would be silly."

The specialist only shrugged in response, glancing at the line of droids unloading luggage from the yacht. The visitor followed Taer's gaze with an embarrassed smile and commented:

"I just want to be prepared for the festival of Unification. I hope you'll be there with us, Taer?"

How nice, just a reunion of girlfriends. Where had the old familiar bitch Kayrin gone? It's like she's been replaced since the lord's recovery, Taer smiled back. "Of course, Kayrin, I accompany the lord on all outings."

"Great, by the way, I'm starving. Will you keep me company?" The Baroness, without waiting for an answer, deftly took Taer under her arm and led her into the castle. Behind them, the steward gave dinner orders while the yacht soared white into the sky, unencumbered by its cargo.

After settling in the small dining room and waiting for dinner to arrive, Kayrin summoned the steward to her side:

"Thank you, Barra. You can rest now. I think we can manage quite well from here," she smiled sweetly at him and, interrupting his objections with a wave of her eyelashes, sent him out of the room, leaving himself alone with Taer. The Baroness began to eat, chirping something about how she was thinking of rejoining the Guard and regretting that she wouldn't be able to serve in the same unit again. Taer blatantly didn't listen, trying to understand why Kairyn needed her company. Suddenly the Baroness interrupted her chirp, instantly becoming very serious:

"You know, Taer, I'd like to talk to you frankly so that there are no misunderstandings between us. Not as a baroness to Lord Cassard's guard or as two former guardsmen, but as a woman to a woman. Tell me, do you have any plans for Lord Cassard?"

"I don't understand you, Kayrin. What do you mean?"

"I'm asking you, as a woman, if you have any plans on Lord Cassard," the Baroness repeated slowly, almost syllabically, moving in close proximity to Taer.

"No, I'm not interested in him in 'that' sense," she tried to answer as firmly as possible.

"Are you sure?" The Baroness said with obvious hesitation.

"Sure! Why do you ask?" Taer genuinely didn't understand why Kayrin would want that.

"Lady Nastase spoke to me the other day," the Baroness twirled her fork thoughtfully in her hands, looking only at it and not at Taer. "She asked about my plans, hinted that I should be married at my age, and said that she thought Allesandro would be a good match."

Hearing this, Taer almost choked. Lady Nastase wielded enormous influence in the Consulate. She was listened to very closely by the Ruling Lord, and she was practically the official matchmaker of House Fyron. All marriages were agreed with her in one way or another, unofficially, of course. If she said that, in her opinion, someone was a splendid candidate, it meant that the highest circles considered that candidate to be politically optimal, and any other option would cause displeasure to the House and the Ruling Lord. A very strong displeasure. Lady Nastase had a very rich palette of means of pressure at her disposal.

"Is it that serious?" Taer realized that she might be sitting next to a potential Lady Cassard, and she didn't like that prospect at all.

She'll destroy me or I'll destroy her.

"I don't know," Kayrin shrugged and went back to eating. "As I found out, I was on standby, but now things are looking up for me to be the main option."

"Who was the main option before you?" The "specialist" asked cautiously, secretly hoping that there was a better candidate.

"Valerie Bellar," Kayrin replied with a predatory grin. She must have realized why Taer was interested in the main option.

Hearing the name again almost made Taer choke: "What? The Ruling Lady of the House of Bentar?"

"You're surprisingly quick to understand. Now, do you see why I'm interested in your feminine view of Lord Cassard? Come to think of it again, I'm a man without complexes or prejudices, and I don't see a problem as long as you don't get in my way. What's between you two is of no interest to me."

She couldn't stand him, and when Lady Nastase hinted, she rushed to do her bidding. That didn't sound like the Kayrin I knew.

"Frankly, what's your interest, Kayrin? Did you want money?"

"I'm doing this for House Fyron!" The Baroness squinted her eyes angrily and set her fork aside. "We don't need the rancor that is bound to start now if the other family gets Cassard. The balance of power will change too much. I am zero option, everything will remain in the same family, and the stability of the House will not suffer. As a Guardsman, think about what would be best for the House. And I swear by the name of Ryan, if you get in my way, all I have to say, Lady Nastase, is that my goodwill is hindered by one Guardsman..."

Such self-sacrifice: 'I'm getting married out of patriotism'... Pour it on others! You have some interest of your own here, and it's not money.

"I didn't mean to interfere," Taer shrugged as indifferently as possible. "If you want to marry Lord Cassard, that's your business."

"You don't just hiss at me every time I go near Allesandro! I thought you were jealous. If you don't care for him, we could make a great couple," the baroness thought about the obvious ambiguity and corrected herself. "I mean an alliance, come to think of it. You help me establish a good relationship with Alessie. I'll plead your case to Nastasi, and she's powerful enough to thank you...", Kayrin smiled sweetly, like a temptress with a track record. "A nobility, for instance."

Taer was momentarily affected by the word 'nobility'. But then she perked up, all her intuition, all her experience with Kayrin, screaming that there was something wrong here! There was some fundamental wrongness in the Baroness's words and actions:

If I got in her way, she would intrigue me, set me up in any way she could, do everything she could to quarrel me with the lord. Poison me in the end, or challenge me to a duel. In short, Kayrin would have acted like the proud bitch with the ambition and connections that she was. Instead, she offers me an alliance by seducing me with nobility. Why? It's not up to me who the lord will marry or if he will marry at all...

"Roasting an unkilled Karsarg?" Taer remembered that Lord Cassard, on principle, didn't give a damn about Lady Nastase's wishes. "Alex could just send them all away and not marry at all or marry that Marquess of his. He's not an earl of any kind. There's no way to push him around."

"That's why I need your help while he can't remember anything, and that includes the Marquis. You will help me, won't you?"

She was about to politely dismiss the baroness when suddenly a heaviness came over her, the world seemed to turn grey, and her thoughts became slow and lingering, and Taer, not knowing why, said:

"Yes, I will help you."

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And Kayrin seemed so sweet to her...

"I'm so glad!" Kayrin smiled charmingly. "I hope we get to spend tomorrow together: you, me, and Alessie."

"Of course, Kay, I hope so, too. You should call him Alex. He hates Alessie," Taer smiled wryly. "You know, I'd better get going. I'm really tired."

"See you tomorrow then, Tar."

Taer reached her bedroom and collapsed on the bed as if she was delirious, not knowing what was wrong with her. Already falling asleep, she remembered that she thought she had heard of symptoms like hers at some lecture at the Academy. But she fell asleep before she remembered what the symptoms meant.

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