Scout's Progress Read Online Free PDF

I—feel—may not be entirely reconciled to marriage."

    "I am reconciled to necessity," Daav said, which did not answer his brother's concern, and held as its only virtue the fact that it was true.

    Worry showed plain in Er Thom's eyes.

    "Daav, if you do not like it, stand aside."

    Plain speaking, indeed! Daav allowed astonishment to show.

    "Darling, what would you have me do? The Law is clear. Necessity is clearer. I must provide the clan with the heir of my body. Indeed, full nurseries at Jelaza Kazone and Trealla Fantrol must be the delm's goal, for we are grown thin—dangerously so."

    He saw that point strike home, for it was true that the Line Direct had suffered severe losses in recent years. And yet—

    "If you cannot like the lady," Er Thom insisted, with all the tenacity a master trader might bring to bear, "stand aside. Bid Mr. dea'Gauss find another—"

    "As to that," Daav interrupted, with some asperity, "I like her as well as any other lady who has been thrown at my head these past six years."

    "You have grown bitter. I had feared it." He turned aside; put his glass away from him. "I shall not accompany you this evening, I think."

    Shock sent a tingle of ice down Daav's spine. In the aftermath of disbelief, he heard his own voice, dangerously mild.

    "You refuse to assist your delm in a matter of such import to the clan?"

    Er Thom's shoulders stiffened, his face yet turned aside.

    "Will the delm order me to accompany him?" he inquired softly.

    Yes, very likely! Daav thought, with a wry twist of humor. Order Er Thom to any thing like and Daav would gain as his evening's companion an exquisitely mannered mannequin in place of a willing, intelligent ally. It was no more Balance than he would himself exact, were their places changed.

    Er Thom being quite as much Korval as Daav, persuasion alone was left open. He extended a hand and lay it gently upon his brother's arm.

    "Come, why shall we disagree over what cannot be escaped? If not this lady, it must be some other. I am of a mind to have the matter done with, and the best course toward finish lies through begun."

    Er Thom turned his head, raised troubled violet eyes. "Yet it is not—meet, when you do not care for her, when any is the same as one—"

    "No," Daav interrupted gently. "No, darling, you have lost sight of custom. The Code tells us that a contract-spouse is chosen for lineage and such benefits of alliance and funding as must be found desirable by one's delm. It notes that resolution may be brought about more speedily, if both spouses are of generally like mind and neither is entirely repulsed by the other. You know your Code, own that I am correct."

    "You are correct," Er Thom acknowledged, with an inclination of the head. "However, I submit that the Code is not—"

    "I submit," Daav interrupted again, even more gently, "that you have been taught by a Terran wife."

    A flash of violet eyes. "And that is an ill, I understand?"

    "Not at all. Scouts learn that all custom is equally compelling, upon its own world. I point out that Korval is based—however regretfully—upon Liad."

    Er Thom's eyes widened slightly. "So we are," he murmured after a moment. He grinned suddenly. "We might relocate."

    "To New Dublin, I suppose," Daav said, naming Anne's homeworld with a smile. "The Contract is still in force."

    "Alas." Er Thom recovered his wine glass and sipped, eyes roving the room.

    The point was his, Daav considered with relief, and had recourse to his own glass.

    "I do wish," Er Thom murmured, "that you might find one to care for—as Anne and I. . ."

    Daav raised a brow. "I shall advertise in The Gazette ," he said, meaning to offer an absurdity: "'Daav yos'Phelium seeks one who might love him for himself alone. Those qualified apply to Jelaza Kazone, Solcintra, Liad.'"

    Er Thom frowned. "You do not believe such a one exists."

    "I have met a great many people in the six years I have worn the Ring," Daav said with matching