The Priest gave him a long steady look, saying nothing, but sat where he was.
"Did you not hear me, Priest?"
Any response was forestalled by the appearance of one of Karin's own people at the gate. The man stepped through the small side door and motioned the party forward, as the broad gates swung inward. Men Darnak frowned at the man as he urged his padder past, but the uniformed functionary returned the gaze unflinchingly. Men Darnak shook his head and turned away, his jaw clamped tight.
Leannis Men Darnak had equipped all of his children well. Their property holdings extended over broad rich land, many-roomed dwellings sprawling across the inner enclosures. There were separate quarters for stabling, and for living quarters to accommodate the many household staff. Neatly sculpted gardens and pathways meandered between all. Yosset Clier had done very well out of his attachment to the Men Darnak daughter -- position, lands, political influences far beyond the worth that his family name might at first indicate. There was more than one way to move beyond familial heritage on Aldaban, but it was not the norm. Clier's position existed simply because of Karin, and ultimately, it was she who ran the man, and thereby the Guild to which he was attached. Men Darnak had never really found much to admire in the oily little spineless upstart, but the marriage had been expedient, helping to solidify the Men Darnak influence over the Guilds themselves, and so he'd approved it. Thus far, there had been nothing to prove him wrong. Thus far?
They reached the stables, and he swung himself from the saddle, looking about while the rest of the party dismounted. By now, someone should be here to greet them, to guide them to the reception rooms, but still no one had appeared. He frowned with annoyance. Kovaar returned his look.
"Where are they, Priest?"
Even the man who had opened the gates had disappeared, leaving the entourage alone in the vast courtyard in front of the stables.
"I don't know, Principal. You would think -- "
"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" he snapped, cutting the priest off in mid sentence. "Come. Let us see what is keeping my loving daughter from treating us with the proper politeness we are due." He turned to the rest of the group giving them a distracted wave. "The rest of you wait here." He turned back, and motioned Kovaar to follow, striding off in the direction of the main hall.
Karin had always been the most capable of his children -- ambitious, clever, able to read the nuances of political byplay with little effort, growing up with that innate sense of the machinations at work behind the scenes. There had been times when he had cursed the societal traditions handed down by the First Families. Karin had every capability, if not the right, to take up a position within the Principate's hierarchy, but he just couldn't ignore the fact that tradition dictated otherwise. And now, because of her arm's-length relationship with the hegemony, she needed all the support she could get. With Tarlain out of the picture, her platform would be less stable, less solid. He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. Perhaps he had been a little too hasty in his actions with the boy, after all.
Waiting until the Priest caught up with him, he flung wide the glass doors at the end of the audience hall that led through the neatly tended garden they had just passed. The garden was neat, just like everything inside these dwellings. Karin was almost obsessive about having things in their place. Sometimes he almost pitied Yosset Clier his life with her. He stepped into the long room, glancing about at the furniture covered in tidily arranged protective covers. Even the edges of the covers trailed in neat lines, following the borders of the wide stone flags making up the floor. He knew that she would even have people coming in during the entire length of Storm Season, sweeping accumulated dust, or straightening anything that had been shifted out of place by any tremors. No. Better Clier, than he.
The chamber was dim. He turned to...
What was he doing?
He had come to see Karin. But what was she doing here? She shouldn't be here.
"Sandon, why are we here? We're not using these residences at the moment. Why is Karin here? Sandon? Where are you Yl Aris? I need you to?"
He looked at the gaunt figure standing behind him. "But you're not Sandon. Where's Sandon?"
The man spoke evenly, calmly, in a high, reedy voice. "Principal, we are here to see Karin. You want to see how she's settling in with the transition."
