Read Online Assassins' Dawn by Stephen Leigh - Free Book Online Page A

folded the flimsy slowly and deliberately. When she did speak, her voice and manner were carefully devoid of question or censure; because of that, it was obvious to the Thane that she was disturbed.
    “Am I to give Aldhelm an explanation?”
    The Thane shook his head. “No, I just want to cause our kin to think of the Gunnar mistake.”
    “Thane”—and now her voice spoke with soft, gentle reproach—“are you sure that’s what you want to do? It won’t help Aldhelm’s mood. You haven’t seen him today. Your chastisement, his own guilt at having let Gunnar escape when he knew full well the importance of that contract, the knife-cut . . .”
    “I didn’t mean to cut him,” the Thane interrupted. His voice was high and loud with hurried protest. Calm, calm. Why do you allow yourself to become upset so quickly?
    “I know—and he knows, whether he cares to admit it or not.” Valdisa’s voice soothed him. She’d always been able to do so, when they’d been lovers, and since then as a friend. “But that doesn’t mean a great deal. He’s not an apprentice or a new Hoorka. He’s the best of the kin. What happened the other night was Dame Fate’s whim, not Hoorka clumsiness. You didn’t need to make an example of him.”
    Two spots of color flared high on the Thane’s cheeks. “I have my own thoughts. I’m doing what I think is right, and I do rule the Hoorka. If you’d like to change that, call for a vote by the kin.” Haughty, so haughty. He hated himself for the way the last sentence had sounded, but it was too late. Why do you always hurt her?
    Valdisa’s hands described a helpless circle. She shook her head. “No, I can’t agree with you. But I wouldn’t say that anywhere but here, and if you insist, I’ll go along with this.” After a moment: “For what it’s worth.”
    The Thane’s expression softened as the ruddiness faded from his cheeks. He impulsively touched her hand, felt the calluses there, the broken fingernails.
    “I appreciate that,” he said. “I need the support, and Aldhelm would take the news better from you.”
    She shrugged, her eyes steady on his. She let her hand stay where it was. “I owe you that much.”
    Her forefinger stroked his palm and the Thane slowly let his hand fall back to his side. “That’s all past. You owe me nothing.”
    “It’s past only because you insist that it need to be so. I’d still sleep with you—and you haven’t slept with any of the kin for some time. It needn’t be me. A hint . . .” She smiled.
    “You’re too interested in other’s affairs.”
    “They used to be partially mine, if you recall.”
    “And you know why I wanted to end it. It wasn’t for my sake.”
    Valdisa’s smile faded. She rose from the bed and moved over to Cranmer’s floater, and idly toyed with his ’typer, running her fingers over the controls. She switched on the machine, listened to its mechanical humming, then turned it off again. “I understand your intentions, Thane. I don’t understand the reasoning. The code encourages a certain promiscuity among Hoorka-kin if they haven’t formed a relationship with a single person—and it helps, with our imbalance of men to women. But you don’t forbid monogamous relationships. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t want to. I remember your jealousy when I slept with Bronton. I even enjoyed it. You were so mutely gentle and hurt. You should be so open with your kin more often, love.”
    “I don’t want it said that you’re on the Hoorka Council because you are the Thane’s bed partner.”
    Valdisa flared with sudden anger. “I don’t need your altruism or your protection. I can stand with my own abilities. I’ve told you that before. Let someone challenge me on the practice floor if they doubt my skills.”
    “This still makes it easier.”
    “For whom? You? Me?” Valdisa spread her hands wide, the folds of the nightcloak shifting fluidly. “If you can’t handle the relationship, tell me.