Korval's Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

elder’s leaves.”
    He stood for a moment or two then, head bowed, maybe listening to the little rustling sounds the breeze made against the leaves. Then he bowed again, like he was going to ask a favor.
    “This one has not had grace of Jela’s children in some years, and this one’s lady has yet to know the elder. In need, this one asks the boon of two fruit, and one leaf.”
    He stepped forward then, reaching high; and pulled two nuts free from the lowest cluster. He plucked a leaf from the same branch and stepped back, bowing thanks.
    Grinning, then, he cracked a nut and handed it to her; cracked open the second and pulled the shell apart, revealing a plump pink kernel.
    “These are good,” he said, back in Terran. “I ate quite a number of them when I was a child, to the gardener’s dismay.”
    Miri pulled her own nut apart, blinking in surprise at the aroma. She paused in the act of fishing the meat out and looked at her partner.
    “It’s a nice tree, boss. Does it talk back?”
    “Eh?” He blinked, then laughed. “Ah, I had forgotten . . . There is a very old Tree on Liad that my clan is—involved with. A long story. The name of that Tree is Jelaza Kazone. This tree here is a seedling of that, so it behooves me to pay courtesy, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Um.” Miri nibbled the kernel, finding it delicious. “How do you know this one’s related to yours?”
    “There is only one Jelaza Kazone,” Val Con murmured. “And Korval does occasionally seal—certain—contracts with the gift of a seedling.”
    “Right.” The nut was gone. Miri sighed in real regret and looked up as Val Con handed her the leaf.
    “Wear this in your belt, cha’trez. Are you done? Good. Let us ring the bell.”
    ***
    The doorkeeper was young , narrow-shouldered and too thin; the fragile bones almost showing through the translucent golden skin. His hair was pale red, shading toward blond, and tumbling over a high forehead, not quite hiding the bruises at both temples, where the combat helmet had been too tight. The blue eyes were wary, with a darker shadow, lurking far back.
    “Delm Erob?” he repeated, looking from Val Con to her and back again. And seeing, Miri knew from the slight change of expression, two soldiers, coming where they shouldn’t be, asking for somebody they had no business to see.
    “The delm is quite busy,” he said now, speaking the High Tongue in the mid-mode reserved for strangers whose melant’i was yet unclear. “If you will acquaint me with your difficulty, sir—ma’am—perhaps I may direct you to the proper person.”
    “It is essential,” Val Con said, his own mode shifting subtly, so that he spoke from senior to junior, “that we speak to Delm Erob with all speed, young sir.”
    The boy’s cheeks flushed darker gold, but he let no hint of that spurt of temper enter his voice. “I must insist you acquaint me more particularly with your mission, sir. If you are separated from your unit—if you have not received proper pay—if you have missed your transport—none of these difficulties will be addressed by Delm Erob, though Clan Erob is able to solve any or all for you. I merely require adequate information.”
    Not too bad, Miri thought, for a kid who was obviously out on his feet and at the tail end of seeing and doing a bunch of stuff he’d probably rather never have known about. The blue eyes shifted to her and she gave him a grin of encouragement before the sleep-learning kicked in and let her know that was a mistake. The kid frowned, eyes suddenly hard.
    “Have you been in our garden?” he demanded, mode shifting fast toward belligerence, courtesy forgotten in outrage. “Have you defaced our tree?”
    Miri came to full attention, eyes tight on his. “We have certainly not defaced your tree!” she snapped, in a mode very close to the voice she used to chew out a soldier who’d been particularly stupid. “We asked grace for the leaf and it was freely given.”
    The boy’s