Page 335 of The Liveship Traders Trilogy

As if someone had literally tugged his heartstrings, he turned and looked across the room.

Malta. Walking away with her hand on Cerwin Trell’s arm.

He could not simply leave the gathering like this, not without a word.

He turned back to Companion Serilla. ‘Just outside the doorway, there is a pathway that goes to the east. It isn’t far and the lanterns will all be lit tonight.

Will you be comfortable, walking alone? I shall join you as quickly as I can. ’

Her look said it was unforgivably rude. But she said, ‘I am sure I shall be fine. Do you think you will be long?’

‘I hope not,’ he assured her. He did not wait to see what she would think of such a vague answer.

He bowed again and left her by the door.

The music was starting again, but he cut swiftly across the dance floor, narrowly avoiding the whirling couples.

He found Malta sitting alone. When he stood before her, she looked up quickly.

The sudden light of hope in her eyes could not quench the fear that was there.

‘Reyn ‘ she began, but he cut her off before she could apologize.

‘I have to go somewhere. It’s very important. I may not be back this evening. You’ll have to understand.’

‘Not be back…where? Where are you going? What is so important?’

‘I can’t tell you. You’ll have to trust me, just now.’ He paused. ‘I’d like you to go home as soon as possible. Would you do that for me?’

‘Go home? Just leave my Presentation Ball and go home while you go and do “something more important”? Reyn, this is impossible. The meal has not been shared, the gifts of our kinship have not been offered – Reyn, we’ve only shared one dance!

How can you do this to me? I’ve looked forward to this all my life, and now you say I should hurry home, because you’ve found something more important to do? ’

‘Malta, please understand! This isn’t something I chose.

Fate doesn’t respect our wishes. Now…I have to go.

I’m sorry, but I have to go.’ He longed to tell her.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was her family’s connection to Davad Restart that worried him.

If Davad was a traitor, it was important that he believe their plot was still secret.

What Malta did not know, she could not accidentally betray.

She looked up at him and her eyes flashed darkly. ‘I think I know exactly what it is that is more important to you than I am. I wish you joy of it.’ She looked aside from him. ‘Good evening, Reyn Khuprus.’

She was dismissing him, as if he were a recalcitrant servant. He doubted she would heed his advice to go home. He stood still in an agony of indecision.

‘Excuse me.’

The jostle was deliberate. Reyn turned. Cerwin Trell glowered at him.

He held two glasses of wine. For a moment, Reyn’s control teetered in the balance.

Then something like despair clutched his heart.

There wasn’t time. He could stay and pursue this squabble now, but it could not be resolved.

If he stayed, by morning they might all be dead.

The hardest part of turning and walking away was knowing that by morning they might all be dead, no matter what he did.

He did not look back at all. If Malta had looked stricken, he would have had to return to her.

If she had been simpering at Trell, he would have had to kill the boy.

No time. Never any time to live his own life.

He left the Traders’ Concourse and plunged into the torch-tattered darkness outside.

Malta danced three more times with Cerwin.

He seemed blithely unaware of how her feet dragged through the steps.

After her effortless grace in Reyn’s arms, dancing with Cerwin seemed an awkward physical effort.

She could not quite match his step or the beat of the music.

The adoring compliments he showered upon her rattled against her nerves like hailstones.

She could hardly stand to look into his earnest, boyish face.

All the life and beauty had gone out of the Ball.

The whole gathering seemed diminished by Reyn’s departure.

It suddenly seemed there were fewer couples on the dance floor, less laughter and talk in the room.

Bleakness welled up from the bottom of her soul, inundating her again.

She could recall that she had been briefly happy earlier today, but the memory seemed shallow and false.

As the music faded, it was a relief to see her mother at the edge of the dance floor, gesturing subtly for Malta to come to her.

‘My mother summons me. I’m afraid I have to go.’

Cerwin stepped back from her, but caught both her hands in his. ‘Then I shall let you go, but only because I must, and I pray you, only for a brief time.’ He bowed to her gravely.

‘Cerwin Trell,’ she acknowledged him, and then turned and left him.

Keffria’s face was solemn as her daughter approached. The concern in her eyes didn’t change, but she managed a smile as she asked, ‘Have you had a good time, Malta?’

How to answer that? ‘It has not been what I expected,’ she replied truthfully.

‘I don’t think anyone’s Presentation Ball is quite what one expects.’ She reached for Malta’s hand. ‘I hate to ask this of you, but I think we should leave soon.’

‘Leave?’ Malta asked in confusion. ‘But why? There is still the shared meal, the presentation of the gifts —’

‘Hush,’ Keffria bid her. ‘Malta, look around you. Tell me what you see.’

She glanced about herself hastily, then perused the room more carefully. In a low voice she asked, ‘Where have all the Rain Wild Traders gone?’

‘I don’t know. A number of Bingtown Traders have vanished as well, without any explanation or any farewell.

Grandmother and I fear there is some trouble afoot.

I went outside for a breath of air, and I smelled smoke.

The blockade of the harbour has increased tension in the city.

We fear a riot or outbreak of some kind.

’ Keffria looked slowly about the room. She kept the calm smile on her face as if she discussed the ball with Malta.

‘We feel we would all be safer at home.’

‘But,’ Malta began and then fell silent. It was hopeless. All joy and light had gone out of the evening anyway. To stay here would just extend the death throes of her dream. ‘I shall do as you think best,’ she abruptly conceded. ‘I suppose I should tell Delo farewell’

‘I think her mother already took her home. I saw Trader Trell speaking to his son just a moment ago, and now I do not see Cerwin either. They’ll understand.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ Malta replied sourly.

Her mother shook her head. ‘I am sorry for you. It is hard to see you come of age in such troubled times. I feel you are being cheated of all the things we dreamed you would do. But there is nothing I can do to change it.’

‘I know that feeling,’ Malta said, more to herself than to her mother. ‘Sometimes I feel completely helpless. As if there is nothing I can do to change any of the bad things. Other times, I fear I am simply too cowardly to try.’

Keffria smiled a genuine smile. ‘Cowardly is the last word I would use to describe you,’ she said fondly.

‘How will we get home? The hired coach will not be back for hours.’

‘Grandmother is talking to Davad Restart. She will ask if his coach could take us home. It would not take long. It would be back long before the Ball is scheduled to end.’

Grandmother came hastening up to them. ‘Davad is reluctant to see us leave, but he has agreed to loan us the use of his coach.’ She scowled suddenly.

‘But there is a condition on it. He demands that Malta come and bid the Satrap farewell before she leaves. I told him I thought that improper and putting herself forward, but he insists on it. I feel we have no time to argue. The sooner we are home, the safer we shall be. Now, where has Selden got off to?’

‘He was with the Daw boys a moment ago. I’ll find him.’ Keffria abruptly sounded both weary and harassed. ‘Malta, do you mind? Grandmother will be with you, so you needn’t be afraid.’

Malta suddenly wondered how much they had deduced about her earlier encounter with the Satrap. ‘I’m not afraid,’ she retorted. ‘Shall we meet you outside?’

‘I suppose that will work. I’ll go and find Selden.’

As she and her grandmother crossed the floor, Ronica Vestrit spoke. ‘I think we shall host a tea ten days from now. The group of women presented this year is not large. Shall we invite them all?’

Malta was startled. ‘A tea? At our home?’

‘In the garden, I think. We should be able to trim it up decently. Now that the berries are ripening, we could make little tarts to serve. In my day, such little tea parties often had a theme.’ Grandmother smiled to herself.

‘My mother held one for me, in which everything was lavender or violet. We ate tiny candied violets, and sugar cakes tinted purple with blueberry juice and the tea was flavoured with lavender. I thought it tasted dreadful, but the idea of it was so lovely I didn’t mind. ’ She chuckled aloud.

Grandmother was trying to make her feel better. ‘Our lavender is blooming very well this year,’ Malta pointed out with an effort. ‘If we are deliberately old-fashioned, then no one will remark if we use the old lace tablecloths and doilies. And the old china, perhaps.’ She tried to smile.

‘Oh, Malta, this has all been so unfair to you,’ Grandmother began. Then, ‘Chin up; cheery smile. Here comes Davad.’

He bore down on them like a big gander in a poultry yard. ‘Well, I do think it is tragic, just tragic, to hurry this sweet girl home like this. Is her headache truly that bad?’

‘Devastating,’ Malta replied quickly. So that had been her grandmother’s ruse. ‘I am not accustomed to such late hours, you know,’ she added sweetly. ‘I told Grandmother I only wished to bid you goodnight and thank you for your kind offer of your coach. Then we shall be on our way.’