A Civil Campaign

unusual.'

Enrique brightened visibly.

Good God, Enrique was writing poetry to her? Yes, and why hadn't he thought of poetry? Besides the obvious reason of his absence of talent in that direction. He wondered if she'd like to read a really clever combat-drop mission plan, instead. Sonnets, damn. All he'd ever come up with in that line were limericks.

He stared at Enrique, who was now responding to her smile by twisting himself into something resembling a tall knotted bread-stick, with dawning horror. Another rival? And insinuated into his own household . . . ! He's a guest. Your brother's guest, anyway. You can't have him assassinated. Besides, the Escobaran was only twenty-four standard years old; she must see him as a mere puppy. But maybe she likes puppies . . .

'Lord Ivan Vorpatril,' Pym's voice announced from the doorway. 'Lord Dono Vorrutyer.' The odd timbre in Pym's voice jerked Miles's head around even before his brain caught up with the unauthorized name accompanying Ivan. Who?

Ivan stood well clear of his new companion, but it was obvious by some remark the other was making that they'd come in together. Lord Dono was an intense-looking fellow of middle height with a close-trimmed black spade-beard, wearing Vor-style mourning garb, a black suit edged with gray which set off his athletic body. Had Ivan made a substitution in Miles's guest list without telling him? He should know better than to violate House Vorkosigan's security procedures like that . . . !

Miles strolled up to his cousin, Ekaterin still beside him—well, he hadn't exactly let go of her hand on his arm, but she hadn't tried to draw it from under his hand, either. Miles thought he knew on sight all his Vorrutyer relatives who could claim a lord's rank. Was this a more distant descendant of Pierre Le Sanguinaire, or some by-blow? The man was not young. Damn, where had he seen those electric brown eyes before . . . ?

'Lord Dono. How do you do.' Miles proffered his hand, and the lithe man took it in a cheerful grip. Between one breath and the next the clue dropped, bricklike, and Miles added suavely, 'You have been to Beta Colony, I perceive.'

'Indeed, Lord Vorkosigan.' Lord Dono's—Lady Donna who was, yes—white grin broadened in his black beard.

Ivan looked on with betrayed disappointment at this lack of a double-take.

'Or should I say, Lord Auditor Vorkosigan,' Lord Dono went on. 'I don't believe I've had the chance to congratulate you upon your new appointment.'

'Thank you,' said Miles. 'Permit me to introduce my friend, Madame Ekaterin Vorsoisson . . .'

Lord Dono kissed Ekaterin's hand with slightly too enthusiastic panache, bordering on a mockery of the gesture; Ekaterin returned an uncertain smile. They gavotted through the social niceties, while Miles's wits went on overdrive. Right. Clearly, the former Lady Donna did not have a clone of brother Pierre tucked away in a uterine replicator after all. It was breathtakingly plain what his legal tactic against Pierre's putative heir Richars was going to be instead. Well, somebody had to try it, sooner or later. And it would be a privilege to watch. 'May I wish you the best of luck in your upcoming suit, Lord Dono?'

'Thank you.' Lord Dono met his gaze directly. 'Luck, of course, has nothing to do with it. May I discuss it in more detail with you, later on?'

Caution tempered his delight; Miles sidestepped. 'I am, of course, but my father's proxy in the Council. As an Auditor, I am obliged to avoid party politics on my own behalf.'

'I quite understand.'

'But, ah . . . perhaps Ivan could reintroduce you to Count Vorbretten over there. He's dealing with a suit in the Council as well; you could compare valuable notes. And Lady Alys and Captain Illyan, of course. Professora Vorthys would also be extremely interested, I think; don't overlook any comments she might have. She's a noted expert on Barrayaran political history. Carry on, Ivan.' Miles nodded demurely disinterested dismissal.

'Thank you, Lord Vorkosigan.' Lord Dono's eyes were alight with appreciation of all the nuances, as he passed cordially on.

Miles wondered if he could sneak out to the next room and have a laughing fit. Or if he'd better make a vid call . . . He grabbed Ivan in passing, and stood on tiptoe to whisper, 'Does Gregor know about this yet?'

'Yes,' Ivan returned out of the corner of his mouth. 'I made sure of that, first thing.'

'Good man. What did he say?'

'Guess.'

'Let's see what happens? '

'Got it in one.'

'Heh.' Relieved, Miles let Lord Dono tow Ivan off.

'Why are you laughing?' Ekaterin asked him.

'I am not laughing.'

'Your eyes are laughing. I can tell.'

He glanced around. Lord Dono had buttonholed Ren?, and Lady Alys and Illyan were circling in curiously. The Professor and Commodore Koudelka were off in a corner discussing, from the snatches of words Miles could overhear, quality control problems in military procurement. He motioned Roic to bring wine, led Ekaterin into the remaining free corner, and brought her up to speed on Lady Donna/Lord Dono and the impending motion of impediment in as few words as he could manage.

'Goodness.' Ekaterin's eyes widened, and her left hand stole to touch the back of her right, as if the pressure of Lord Dono's kiss still lingered there. But she managed to keep her other reactions to no more than a quick glance down the room, where Lord Dono was now attracting a crowd including all the Koudelka girls and their mother. 'Did you know about this?'

'Not at all. That is, everyone knew she'd spiked Richars and gone to Beta Colony, but not why. It makes perfect sense now, in an absurd kind of way.'

'Absurd?' said Ekaterin doubtfully. 'I should think it would have taken a great deal of courage.' She took a sip of her drink, then added in a thoughtful tone, 'And anger.'

Miles back-pedaled quickly. 'Lady Donna never suffered fools gladly.'

'Really?' Ekaterin, an odd look in her eyes, drifted away down the room toward this new show.

Before he could follow her, Ivan appeared at his elbow, a glass of wine already half-empty in his hand. Miles didn't want to talk with Ivan. He wanted to talk with Ekaterin . He murmured nonetheless, 'That's quite a date you brought. I would never have suspected you of such Betan breadth of taste, Ivan.'

Ivan glowered at him. 'I might have known I'd get no sympathy from you.'

'Bit of a shock, was it?'

'I damn near passed out right there in the shuttleport. Byerly Vorrutyer set me up for it, the little sneak.'

'By knew?'

'Sure did. In on it from the beginning, I gather.'

Duv Galeni too drifted up, in time to hear this; seeing Duv detached from Delia at last, his future father-in-law Commodore Koudelka and the Professor joined them. Miles let Ivan explain the new arrival, in his own words. Miles's guess was confirmed that Ivan hadn't had any hint of this at the