Elvenborn

it was a good thing to have the man's name. Tenebrinth could put some time into investigating the fellow. It might well be possible to compensate him in some way for the loss of his important post.

It might be possible to placate him with no more than a sim­ple visit. Kyrtian plays the humble soul very well.

The murmur of voices in the other room continued, and he strained to hear every nuance, wishing he also had some way to read Lord Kyndreth's thoughts.

The current commander isn't Kyndreth's? That's good to know; Kyndreth probably knows next to nothing about him, and if Kaeth does, he's only said that the fellow is going to be in­sulted. Well, insults can be negated with a purging dose of hu­mility. If Kyrtian paid an immediate call on Levelis, after

accepting the appointment but before it became generally known, and groveled ...

Must ask Tenebrinth. That can be a two-edged sword.

Assuming that the current commander could not be placated or bought off, there was a possibility that Levelis would revert to the ancient ways of Evelon. The Elvenlord was not likely to act openly—after the display at the challenge-duel hosted by Aelmarkin, no one was going to issue a challenge that they knew they were going to lose. A challenge to a duel-by-magic was possible, and there were several potential ways of dealing with it. Kyndreth and the Council could forbid it. Kyrtian could accept and the duel could go on, and he could either win or lose—and in either case, Gel would have to be certain that the stakes weren't too high to lose. What is the limit on stakes in these things? Must ask Tenebrinth. If it's pretty much a token, it might pay Kyrtian to lose anyway.

But if the Council forbade a duel altogether on the grounds that the challenge was specious and made purely out of pique, Levelis could decide to take matters into his own hands. That left the possibility—if Levelis had or could purchase a properly-trained slave—of assassination. He wished very strongly that he had Kaeth at his disposal about now—an assas­sin would be the best possible expert at spotting another.

But he didn't. And I spotted Kaeth, so I suppose I could spot another. Provided he was operating in the open, and not mak­ing an attempt at sniping from a distance. Damn. He made an­other note; make sure that Kyrtian's tent and person were always out of bow shot of any cover. Fine, provided that the current battlefield site wasn't in the middle of a forest.

But he knew that there was no use in trying to persuade Kyrt­ian not to go; he didn't even consider the option. It was too dan­gerous to try and decline the invitation, at least in the short-term. So long as Kyndreth was Kyrtian's sponsor, Ael­markin would keep his distance.

Damn them all for a nest of twisty snakes, anyway! Why couldn't anyone among these pointy-eared bastards ever do anything in a straightforward manner?

But the subject had changed, and Gel shoved his ear even tighter against the wall, hoping for more insights.

Kara and Gianna were fussing with their clothing again, hoping for a second visit from the Great Lord and a second present of jewels, no doubt. What good jewels were, with only their mas­ter to see them, Rennati had no idea. Rennati sighed, but qui­etly; Kara had gone through three changes of costume already, and still she wasn't satisfied with the impression she was going to make.

She looked back at the window; a doe and fawn appeared at the very edge of the lawn, but quickly darted back out of view before she got more than a glimpse of them.

I would like a fawn, more than jewels. Or a kitten of my own, like the one that slipped in when we first came here. Any kind of pet. Kara and Gianna wouldn't want to share the harem with an animal, though.

Kara tried another gown, and rejected it immediately—not that there was anything wrong with it, but because she had worn it two days ago.

Well, maybe Lady Lydiell shouldn 't have given us such exten­sive wardrobes when she bought us and installed us here, Ren­nati thought. Half of all this costume-changing is only because Kara's got an excuse to try on everything in her closet.

Kara and Gianna twittered at each other; what did Rennati need with a bird when she had them? 'The black,' she said, in the first available moment of silence. 'Wear the black. It's at the right end of the closet.'

Two heads swiveled on two swan-like necks to peer in her di­rection, both sets of eyes, blue and brown, equally uncertain. 'Black?' Kara said doubtfully. 'But—' she shuddered. 'He'll think—'

'Black's not for mourning, not with them,' Rennati said, an­ticipating Kara's objection. 'I know it's not a color you usually wear, but Lady Lydiell has perfect taste, and she wouldn't have put the black in your wardrobe if she didn't think you'd look good in it.'

The fair and deceptively fragile Kara pursed her lips in thought. 'I could try it, I suppose—'

The thought was mother to the act; in a mere moment, the gown of seventeen overdresses made of sheerest silk was in a heap on the floor, and Kara slid the heavy satin black over her head while Gianna picked up the discarded gown, shook it out, and put it back in the wardrobe. Gianna, fortunately, had a ma­nia for neatness. Kara smoothed the bias-cut gown over her flat stomach, settled the pointed neckline, and twitched the long sleeves so that the points of the cuffs came down precisely over the backs of her hands, then turned to gaze at her reflection.

Gianna was already staring in awe, her lips pursed. 'Oooh, Kara!' she enthused. 'It's perfect, Ren's right! Wear it!'

And it was perfect; Kara's misty-blue eyes in the reflection were wide with surprise as she pulled her long hair over one shoulder to fall in a silver-gilt cascade along the shining black satin. Rennati smothered a smile. 'Remember those silver-and-jet ornaments that puzzled you in the jewel-chest?' she prompted. 'I would bet that they're meant to go with the black.' As the other two women dove for the jewel-chest, Rennati went back to her own thoughts. She and Gianna were more than ready for any potential call for their services; it was only Kara who'd been indecisive. Kara could never make up her mind about anything, and preferred to be led by the other two.

Which was fine with Rennati. Gianna was the natural leader of the harem, if one could be called a 'leader' in a group of three. Rennati was indifferent to who took the lead in such pressing questions as what to eat, what music to play, or what to wear. Even now Kara sat passively while Gianna decided what to do with her hair and the wealth of silver and black or­naments that were obviously supposed to go into a coiffure.

Gianna had been ready hours ago; last night she had worn a close-cut scarlet velvet gown with a cleavage so low and tight that she nearly popped out of it—not that, with her generous features, she wasn't perilously close to popping out of anything she wore. Tonight she favored a dusty rose that was not tight-fitting at all, but plunged so low in the back that there was not a

single one of her perfectly-sculptured vertebrae that was not on show, and as usual, she had made up her mind after swiftly ri­fling through her closet. Rennati had been ready even earlier; last night she had worn an emerald-green sheath that matched her eyes, slit to the hips on either side, and tonight it was a pale green tunic with an asymmetrical hem and no shoes. She didn't expect Lord Kyndreth to get to her, anyway; she expected to dance while the other two worked their wiles on him. Lord Kyndreth had expressed pleasure with her dancing last night, and she hadn't even begun to show off her talent. If the other two occupied his bed, that would give her a rare moment alone to activate her teleson-ring to speak with her real Mistress.

She hadn't learned much—except that Kyndreth was pleased, very pleased, with Lord Kyrtian, and intended to be­come his patron—but she remembered Lady Triana's instruc­tions to report everything. They hadn't yet been allowed out of the tiny harem, though neither Kara nor Gianna particularly cared. Rennati would have liked the chance to get out, rare though it might be for a concubine to have that chance, but she had to admit that, although the suite was relatively small, it was sumptuously appointed and should satisfy