"Has Dunnan been bothering Elaine again?"
"Nothing to take notice of. He was here, yesterday, demanding to
speak with her. We got him to leave without too much unpleasantness."
"It'll be something for me to take notice of, if he keeps it up
after tomorrow."
For his seconds and Andray Dunnan's, that was; he hoped it wouldn't
come to that. He didn't want to have to shoot a kinsman to the house
of Ward, and a crazy man to boot.
"I'm terribly sorry for him," Elaine was saying. "Father, you should
have let me talk to him. I might have made him understand."
Sesar Karvall was shocked. "Child, you couldn't have subjected
yourself to that! The man is insane!" Then he saw her bare
shoulders, and was even more shocked. "Elaine, your shawl!"
Her hands went up and couldn't find it; she looked about in confused
embarrassment. Amused, Lucas picked it from the shrub onto which she
had tossed it and draped it over her shoulders, his hands lingering
briefly. Then he gestured to the older man to precede them, and
they entered the arbored walk. At the other end, in an open circle,
a fountain played; white marble girls and boys bathing in the
jade-green basin. Another piece of loot from one of the Old Federation
planets; that was something he'd tried to avoid in furnishing
Traskon New House. There'd be a lot of that coming to Gram, after
Otto Harkaman took the _Enterprise_ to space.
"I'll have to come back, some time, and visit them," Elaine
whispered to him. "They'll miss me."
"You'll find a lot of new friends at your new home," he whispered
back. "You wait till tomorrow."
"I'm going to put a word in the Duke's ear about that fellow," Sesar
Karvall, still thinking of Dunnan, was saying. "If he speaks to him,
maybe it'll do some good."
"I doubt it. I don't think Duke Angus has any influence over him at all."
Dunnan's mother had been the Duke's younger sister; from his father
he had inherited what had originally been a prosperous barony. Now
it was mortgaged to the top of the manor-house aerial-mast. The Duke
had once assumed Dunnan's debts, and refused to do so again. Dunnan
had gone to space a few times, as a junior officer on trade-and-raid
voyages into the Old Federation. He was supposed to be a fair
astrogator. He had expected his uncle to give him command of the
_Enterprise_, which had been ridiculous. Disappointed in that,
he had recruited a mercenary company and was seeking military
employment: It was suspected that he was in correspondence with
his uncle's worst enemy, Duke Omfray of Glaspyth.
And he was obsessively in love with Elaine Karvall, a passion which
seemed to nourish itself on its own hopelessness. Maybe it would
be a good idea to take that space trip right away. There ought to
be a ship leaving Bigglersport for one of the other Sword-Worlds,
before long.
* * * * *
They paused at the head of the escalators; the garden below was
thronged with guests, the bright shawls of the ladies and the coats
of the men making shifting color-patterns among the flower-beds and
on the lawns and under the trees. Serving-robots, flame-yellow and
black in the Karvall colors, floated about playing soft music and
offering refreshments. There was a continuous spiral of changing
costume-color around the circular robo-table. Voices babbled happily
like a mountain river.
As they stood looking down, another aircar circled low; green and
gold, lettered PANPLANET NEWS SERVICE. Sesar Karvall swore in
irritation.
"Didn't there use to be something they called privacy?" he asked.
"It's a big story, Sesar."
It was; more than the marriage of two people who happened to be in love
with each other. It was the marriage of the farming and ranching barony
of Traskon and the Karvall steel mills. More, it was public announcement
that the wealth and fighting-men of both baronies were now aligned
behind Duke Angus of Wardshaven. So it was a general holiday. Every
industry had closed down at noon today, and would be closed until
morning-after-next, and there would be dancing in every park and
feasting in every tavern. To Sword-Worlders, any excuse for a holiday
was better than none.
"They're our people, Sesar; they have a right to have a good time
with us. I know everybody at Traskon is watching this by screen."
He raised his hand and waved to the news car, and when it swung
its pickup around, he waved again. Then they went down the long
escalator.
Lady Lavina Karvall was the center of a cluster of matrons and
dowagers, around which tomorrow's bridesmaids fluttered like
many-colored butterflies. She took possession of her daughter
and dragged her into the feminine circle. He saw Rovard Grauffis,
small and saturnine, Duke Angus' henchman, and Burt Sandrasan,
Lady Lavina's brother. They spoke, and then an upper-servant,
his tabard blazoned with the yellow flame and black hammer of
Karvall mills, approached his master with some tale of domestic
crisis, and the two went away together.
"You haven't met Captain Harkaman, Lucas," Rovard Grauffis said.
"I wish you'd come over and say hello and have a drink with him.
I know your attitude, but he's a good sort. Personally, I wish
we had a few like him around here."
That was his main objection. There were fewer and fewer men of
that sort on any of the Sword-Worlds.