She had as her current interest Hal a Norn hant Ilit, a remote and seldom-social member of the House most involved in Meron’s banking; she reckoned he might be a direct relative, and tried to jog his memory which of his kinsmen Morel a Sul Meth-maren had had for a lover, but he avowed it was several, and she went frustrated. He was frustrating in other ways, but he was a useful shelter, and they had some common interests; few could argue comp theory with him, or for that matter, cared to: she did, and for all the vast disparity in their ages (he was in his third century) and in outlook, he avowed himself increasingly infatuated.
She found herself increasingly uncomfortable, and began as gently as possible, to break that entanglement, coming out of her isolation into the society he hated; a part of that society was his grandnephew Gen.
In all of this, there was a certain leisure.
The order which Moth maintained in Council and in the Reach was a calm one, and a prosperous one, and no one on Cerdin or off seemed energetic enough to seek Moth’s life: it seemed superfluous, for no one expected that life to extend much longer. What enemies Moth had were evidently determined to outwait her, and that meant a surface peace, what ever built up beneath. Raen reckoned with Moth in power she might even have gone home to Cerdin, had she asked. She simply declined to make the request, which required on the one hand a humility toward Council she had never acquired; and on the other, faith that Moth would survive long enough for her to entrench herself among friends: she dies not think so. And more than all other reasons, she simply refused to face the ruin at Kethiuy; there was nothing there for her.
On Meron, there was.
Then strife erupted among majat on Meron, reds and greens and blues at odds. Golds took shelter and stayed out of sight. Reds strayed into the passages of the City on Meron, terrifying betas and occasioning several deaths in panicked crowds. A Kontrin estate or two suffered minor damage.
Raen quitted Meron then, having lost the four azi who had served her the last several years.
The four azi, dying in their sleep, did not suffer. Raen did, of biter anger. It gave her temporary motivation, settling with the erstwhile Ilit lover who had let red-hivers into the estate; but that was arranged with disappointing lack of difficulty; and afterward she was tormented with doubt, whether Hal Ilit had had choice in the matter. Blue-hive, she heard, skirmished with the others and retreated, sealed into its hill again, while reds came and went where they would: Thons came from Cerdin to try to persuade them back into quiet.
There was similar disturbance on Andra, and Raen was there, . . . attempted last of all to contact blue-hive directly, but it evaded her, and sealed itself in, while other hives walked Andran streets with impunity.
She was thirty-four. It had been nineteen years since Kethiuy, since Cerdin.
She began, obsessively, to practice certain skills she had let fall in recent years. She withdrew entirely unto herself, and ceased to mourn for the past.
Even for Kethiuy, which was the last thing she had loved.
She was utterly Kontrin, as Moth was, as Lian had been, as all her elders were. She had come of age.
“She’s on Kalind,” Pol said.
Moth regarded him and his two kinsmen with placid eyes.
“She can be removed,” Morn said
Moth shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Eldest—” Tand leaned on her desk, facing her with a lack of respect not uncommon in HaIds, not uncommon in his generation. “Blue-hive has been astir on Meron; she was there; and on Andra; she was there; and on Kalind; she is there now. The indications are that she’s directly involved, contrary to all conditions and advice. She’s broken with all her old contacts.”
“She’s learned good taste,” said Pol. He smiled lazily, leaned back in his chair, folded his slim hands on his belly. “And about time.”
Morn fixed him with a burning look. Pol shrugged, made a loose gesture, rose and bowed an ironic goodbye. The door closed behind him.