The Lady And the Order [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 4] Read online

  “What's that grin for?"

  “That's Sister Marnya,” he said, gesturing at the approaching green-cloaked figure.

  This time, Sister Marnya wore dark blue trousers under her cloak. She held her cloak close around herself against the chill, instead of letting it hang open and swing freely with her movements. She smiled as she stopped in front of the booth.

  “Jax thought you might be back here. Blessings, Lin, Bain. You're their kinswoman?” Marnya said, nodding to Branda.

  Lin did the introductions, and gave an abbreviated version of how they had met the Order scholar. Branda insisted Marnya come into the minimal shelter of the booth, and Bain gave her his chair.

  “So, how can we help you, Sister?” Lin said, finishing. She handed Marnya a cup of steaming red tea.

  Marnya inhaled the steam from the tea and smiled. “Wonderful. It's colder here than I expected today, and all the discipline of the Order can't stop my fingertips from turning to ice.” She chuckled. “You can help me by being an answer to a few frustrated, desperate prayers. I'd like to make you a business proposition, involving the short-term hiring of Sunsinger."

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  They went back to the ship to talk. Jax caught up with them, emerging from the obscurity of the crowds as soon as they stepped through the security gates at the spaceport. A sudden, thick squall of rain caught them when they were still a five minutes walk from Sunsinger. They ran the rest of the way. Lin called ahead for Ganfer to open the hatch so they wouldn't have to wait, even a few seconds, in the driving rain that felt like it had cores of ice in every drop.

  “Ganfer, turn up the heat!” Lin called as they scurried into the cargo hold. She laughed and quickly stripped off her cloak. She turned it inside out and wrapped it around her arm, then held out her hand for their guests’ cloaks. “Bain, hurry up to the galley and make something hot to drink, will you?"

  Bain suspected Lin wouldn't mind if he made chocolate. After all the tea they drank while visiting with Branda, it would be a nice change. He had four cups in the heater and had hurried to his cubicle to change his boots and socks when the other three reached the bridge.

  Marnya wouldn't say anything more about her reasons for wanting to hire Sunsinger until they were all seated in the galley booth. She took a sip of the steaming chocolate and her eyes widened.

  “My—I haven't tasted that in years. It's wonderful. Amazing how your tastes change with time."

  “Maybe the recipe has improved,” Jax muttered as he lifted his own cup to sip.

  “Didn't you like chocolate before?” Bain asked.

  “I suppose it is a matter of taste—and changing.” She gave her bodyguard a sideways glance and a smile.

  Her smile faded after another sip. Marnya put the cup down and looked at Lin, then Bain. The searching intensity of her gaze startled the boy a little. He thought for a moment Marnya could look into his thoughts, maybe into his soul.

  “I must admit,” she said after a moment of silence, “I did some checking into your histories after our last encounter. With evidence that the Shadows are moving against me, against the Order, I couldn't be too careful. What if you had been hired to make friends with me, seemingly by accident?"

  “It's happened before,” Lin said. She cradled her half-full cup between her hands and leaned back into the cushions of the bench.

  “Jax trusts you. I trust you because I want to, because of records—and because I must.” Marnya rested her hands flat on the table as if bracing herself. “The most important thing you must know—it affects everything else I'm going to tell you and ask of you, is this: Kilvordi is dead."

  Bain only just managed to keep from gasping aloud. He didn't know much about the leader of the Order, only what everyone was taught: Kilvordi was more a title than a name, now, after so many centuries. The man or woman who wore the name was chosen for their servant's attitude, their love for Humanity, for their dedication to the first Kilvordi's vision for the Commonwealth and the Human race. Bain studied Marnya and Jax's faces. They were too calm, too composed. This wasn't recent news, he guessed. This was something they were used to for months now, and they had overcome their grief and shock.

  “News doesn't travel that quickly, even without the war interfering,” Lin said after a few moments. “How long?"

  “Nearly three years. He was murdered."

  “By the Shadows?” Bain whispered.

  “We can only assume. There were no clues, but the Shadows have a tendency to use destructive devices, like fire or explosives or corrosives so there is little left of the body. Kilvordi was ... there was little more than shreds of his clothes and a few twisted lumps of his rings left, after the bomb went off.” Marnya lifted her cup and sipped. Her hand shook just barely enough for Bain to notice.

  “We've kept the news quiet for the sake of public feeling and the unsettled state of things during this war,” Jax said in the growing pool of quiet. “Sister Marnya leads the Order now, because she was Kilvordi's right hand."

  “And now they're trying to kill you,” Bain said. “What can we do?"

  “We thought that we would be safe if we kept moving. After that first attempt, there have been two other accidents that might not be accidents.” She waited until Lin and Bain both nodded that they understood. “We've decided that Kilvordi's Dream is a little ... conspicuous,” Marnya said with a forced little laugh. “What I'm proposing is that I ride on Sunsinger—"

  Jax cleared his throat and glared at Marnya. She looked at him, and a smile caught one corner of her mouth.

  “Jax and I would like to ride on Sunsinger to each of the colonies I need to visit. Kilvordi's Dream will follow a different schedule, even doubling back a few times, and this will hopefully throw the Shadows off our trail."

  “Wouldn't it be safer for you, easier to protect you, if you stayed on Vidan?” Lin asked.

  “Actually, she is safer out here in space. There's more room to move, more places to hide,” Jax said.

  “Why are you out here at all? I can't imagine you came to space and the colonies just to protect yourself."

  “No, not that at all.” Marnya shook her head. She looked tired now, as if the little bit she had confessed had drained her. “It was Kilvordi's Dream to venture out into space. For so long, the press of his duties kept him confined at the Order's central enclave on Vidan. He had to content himself with reports and visuals and samples of food and plants and native animals sent home from the far reaches of the universe. He was murdered before he could do more than mention that dream to me. I'm out here for him, for his dream, to see the worlds and know in my flesh and bone what their needs are, so the Order can better serve them."

  “How many more worlds do you have left to visit?” Bain wanted to know.

  “I've lost count.” She gave a negligent wave of her hand. A spark of mischief touched her eyes; there and gone again, but Bain felt better having seen that glimpse of a lighter spirit.

  “It makes sense,” Lin said. “You can't get much done that's really worthwhile if people know who you are and why you're there. That ship of yours announces it loud and clear."

  “Plus, it gives people time to polish the brasswork and sweep their problems and dishonesties under the rug, so to speak.” Marnya nodded, smiling a little more now that Lin understood. “I can get more done if I come in as simply plain Sister Marnya, running errands and carrying messages for Kilvordi. No one would expect Kilvordi's heir, or even someone from the upper five levels of the hierarchy, to travel with just a bodyguard, in a Spacer cargo ship. Not to disparage Sunsinger or you. The outposts here don't know your reputation like I do now."

  “That can be praise or a rebuke,” Lin responded with a grin. Her eyes sparkled with that mischief Bain knew very well. He grinned, knowing at that moment that Jax and Marnya would be traveling with them.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, fine-tuning their plan, as Jax put it. Lin would follow her origi
nal plan of cargo runs. She had three stops she had agreed to make, taking a shipment of tools to Banner, then seeds and fertilizer from Banner to Hibley, and energy conduit from Hibley to Parsifal. After that, Lin was flexible.

  The plan was to tell the truth, if anyone asked. Lin had cargo to carry to wherever her next stop was, but she had room in the hold if someone had cargo to ship. She and Bain simply wouldn't mention that the cargo consisted of Sister Marnya and Jax. Lin could continue her regular transport work while serving the Order.

  Bain knew Lin was delighted with that part of the plan. After everything Lin had told him of the Order and how they had kept Spacers from being branded as mutants, and sterilized, wiped out as a people, he felt ready to do anything to help the Order too.

  Marnya and Jax would stay in the extra cubicles on the bridge. Bain was a little startled when Lin said that. Passengers never stayed on the bridge. It was forbidden territory, in a sense.

  Then he considered what it meant. First, there were no passengers’ quarters in the cargo hold any longer. It would take too long and create too much work and fuss to refurbish the hold for passengers. That kind of activity might gain the wrong attention; what if the Shadows were watching for just that sort of work while Marnya's ship was on Aranthe—or any other world? Bain felt a shiver of delighted anticipation when he realized what this meant: Lin considered Marnya and Jax more than passengers or guests. She had made their mission her mission. Sunsinger and captain and crew were now in the service of the Order.

  He only noticed one sour note amid the realization that he could ask Marnya and Jax all sorts of questions about the Order, and the voyages between colonies would be much more interesting and busy. Bain wouldn't be able to stay in bed past his usual rising time, or wear his clothes a day longer than was polite, or neglect washing his face or combing his hair. Company manners, as his mother used to say.

  But really, he realized, the little irritations were well paid for by the opportunity and the rare treat of having Marnya and Jax on the bridge. Maybe for months. Maybe a year. Maybe longer.

  * * * *

  When Sunsinger reached Hibley, Marnya and Jax stayed on the bridge while Lin and Bain oversaw the unloading of their cargo. The port cargo master came out to Sunsinger to take the trip report, including the passenger and cargo list. On Hibley, the cargo master was a friend of Lin's. More important, she was a Spacer by birth, if not by training or choice. Lin had taught Bain long ago that Spacers all held a strong loyalty and gratitude to the Order.

  Larissa Haeffer—a distant relative of Mogran Haeffer's—was struck speechless for nearly two whole minutes after Lin introduced the cargo master to Sister Marnya. She nodded to Jax when Lin introduced her to Marnya's bodyguard and barely noticed when Bain handed her a cup of tea. She sipped, nearly choked on the tea, then carefully put it down on the edge of the control panel. She rubbed the instant sweat off her high, pale forehead, brushed a few red curls back behind her nearly pointed ears, and nodded again.

  “We need a little help, ‘Riss,” Lin said, while the cargo master glanced around the bridge. Bain wondered if the woman was afraid to look at Sister Marnya and Jax.

  “Obviously.” Larissa cleared her throat. She gestured at the partially open door of the cubicle where Marnya had been reading until Lin and Larissa came onto the bridge. “Since when has Sunsinger carried passengers?"

  “In point of fact, we've carried more passengers in the last two years because of the war than all my ancestors carried since there were Spacers in space,” Lin said with a thin smile.

  “All right, I concede that point.” She stole a glance at Sister Marnya again. “But on the bridge?"

  Bain felt a laugh trying to sneak out. He pressed one hand over his mouth. Glancing over at Jax, he saw the grin and shook his head. Man and boy locked glances. Bain bit his tongue to fight the stronger urge to laugh.

  “Why not? It would be rude to make them stay down in the cargo hold. Especially with all that gear we just off-loaded taking up so much space."

  “Lin—” Larissa shook her head. “Next, you're going to tell me you've taken an apprentice."

  Bain burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. Jax joined in. He reached out a shaking hand and helped Bain stand up straight. The two staggered over to the galley booth and sat down before their legs buckled.

  “You'll have to excuse my apprentice,” Lin said with a perfectly straight face. “He thinks it's amusing to mock his elders."

  “Lin!"

  “Lin, please.” Sister Marnya's lips twitched. “If you aggravate her any further, she'll refuse to help us."

  “Help?” Larissa pounced on the word. “Anything, Sister. Ask, just ask."

  “Delay filing the passenger list until we've left, and make it a little difficult to find,” Lin said.

  “Trouble?” She glanced back and forth between Sister Marnya and Lin. All three women ignored Jax and Bain, who had caught their breath and were now listening, faces red and eyes wet.

  “I'm traveling on Order business,” Sister Marnya said. “There are people who would like to learn where I'm going so they can interfere. We're not asking you to lie or hide information, just make it...."

  “Harder to find than usual?” the cargo master said with a grin that curved only one side of her mouth. “No problem. You've never tried to find something in the records of a backwater colony like this, have you?” Her smile widened when both Lin and Marnya shook their heads. “Every access request has to go through the colonial governor's office. That means genuine paperwork to fill out, in multiples, not just filing electronic forms and sending them to all the proper departments. Plus, we're in the process of transferring everything from governor-rule to council-rule. Do you have any idea the chaos that creates?"

  “How long?” Lin asked quietly.

  “Years, according to the rumors from other colonies that have switched from having a governor to elected council. And that's when everything runs smoothly.” Larissa winked.

  “Thank you.” Sister Marnya held out her hand. Her face stayed solemn even when Larissa goggled at her hand and her cocky grin faded and she swallowed hard enough to be audible. The two women shook hands.

  * * * *

  Very early the next morning, before the night dew on the landing field had changed to mist and rose to cloud the air, Marnya and Lin left Sunsinger. They were dressed alike in loose, sleeveless dresses hanging nearly to their ankles, their long hair braided with multicolored threads to match their dresses; Marnya in green and gold, Lin in blue and red. Sister Marnya wore arm bands that on first glance looked like the ones Lin wore to keep in contact with the ship.

  Bain had his first lesson in disguises, watching Marnya apply a few thin lines of makeup around Lin's mouth and eyes, and then her own mouth and eyes and cheekbones, to change their shape. It amazed him that such simple little things as a few lines and changing shades of brown and rose could make a person look so different. Lin was herself—and yet not herself. She looked a little like Sister Marnya, and Sister Marnya had changed her face a little to look like Lin. Now they looked like sisters, or at least members of the same family.

  When they finished, the two women went into their cubicles to change into their costumes. Bain grinned, amazed at the subtle changes, and turned to say something to Jax. He forgot what he was about to say when he saw the speculative frown the man focused on him.

  “What's going on?” Bain had to ask.

  “Your turn now,” the big man said. He gestured for Bain to sit down on the edge of the galley booth, so he faced out into the bridge.

  “What do you mean?"

  “You get disguised today, too.” Jax grinned. “Take off your shirt, will you?"

  “What are you going to do?” Bain felt chilled suddenly, and he knew that was ridiculous. Ganfer kept the bridge at the perfect level of warmth for comfort.

  “Just a little paint.” He turned around and picked up the pot of rich, nearly-black brown Marnya had mixed and
then not used.

  “A little?"

  “Your shirt, Bain. We have to be thorough.” The tall man waited until the boy complied. “This might tickle. Try to hold still as best you can, all right?” He smiled warmly and picked up a sponge to dip into the pot of color.

  “Why are you—what am I supposed to be?” Bain held himself stiff and still and closed his eyes. He flinched a little when the sponge touched his chin—the paint was cold!

  “Not a what. A who.” Jax brushed the paint along Bain's chin, then stroked down his neck. “You're going to be my son for today. Your tan is nice, but not quite dark enough. The hair ... well, I never had as much as you. We don't need to do much with your eyes or the shape of your face, so paint is all we really need."

  “Okay.” Bain winced when the sponge brushed against his lips and the bitterness of the paint seeped into his mouth. He took a deep breath and tried not to squint and wrinkle up his face while Jax painted over his nose and across his cheeks and then started daubing over his eyes and brow.

  The paint didn't actually smell too bad; something like overly ripe nuts. It faded as it dried. Bain expected the paint to feel sticky and crinkle as it dried, but he felt nothing. No greasy film, nothing to make the flexible skin around his joints stiff. He held still, only lifting his arms or tilting his head back when Jax told him. He stumbled a little when the big man told him to stand up and turn around so he could paint his back. Bain dared to open his eyes then and looked at his arms, braced against the table.

  Even his years on Lenga under its merciless, baking sun hadn't turned his skin this dark. Bain stared in delighted wonder at the near-black cast of his skin. There was a nearly blue tint to it that amazed him. It didn't look like paint, either. He could make out the creases in his skin at his elbows, the pores, the texture points where he had been building up calluses on his fingers for playing the harp.