Shadow’s end by Sheri S. Tepper

“Listen, when three generations of Fambers stick around only long enough to father one child, then take off and are never seen again, one may be forgiven for assuming a genetic tendency toward vanishment!”

A pause indicating that Britta was considering this. “Three generations?”

“Actually four, if you count uncles. Leelson; his father, Grebor Two; his grandfather, Grebor One; and his great-granduncle.”

“Who was his great-granduncle?”

“Paniwar Famber, son of Bernesohn and Tospia. That’s five generations, because Paniwar was an only too.”

“Paniwar was not an only. Paniwar had a twin sister, Tospiann. Boy and girl—”

“I meant only son,” interrupted Ostil-ohn.

“—and Bernesohn had flocks of children with other women!”

A moment’s silence. “That’s right. I’d forgotten.”

“Paniwar had more than one child, too, though it was a scandal! He got some little tourister girl pregnant when he was just a boy. She wanted him to marry her, can you imagine! When he told her Fastigats don’t, she went to some remote place and had the child secretly, making Paniwar guilty of improper fathering! The talk went on for years!”

“My dear, it wasn’t a little tourister girl. I remember now. It was someone famous on the frontier! He was only a boy, she was twice his age, and that’s what the talk was about!”

Ostil-ohn murmured, “Whoever. I’ll modify my statement. When four generations of Fambers stick around only long enough to father one acknowledged son and then take off never to be seen again, one may be forgiven for assuming it’s genetic.”

Britta said, “Limia would argue with you. She doesn’t acknowledge the boy Leelson fathered. He had it out of that translator woman he took up with. You know. We met her once. Lutha something. Tall-staff. Basically earthian stock.”

“Did I meet her?”

“But of course you did,” Britta insisted. “Leelson brought her here. Then Limia went to see her!”

“Oh, yes. To warn her off, don’t you suppose? Limia was furious! And what is it about the child? Something not right?”

Lutha’s face flushed. Damn them. What right had they to discuss Leely!

Britta went on. “It isn’t Fastigat. It’s not even normal earthian. I haven’t seen it, though some of the men have. Oh, look, there’s someone who’d know. Trompe Paggas. Trompe knows everything!”

Lutha looked up, saw Trompe moving toward her, gave up any attempt at concealment, and rose to her full height. She turned to the matrons she’d been eavesdropping upon with a pleasant smile and a nod.

Both had the grace to flush, though only Ostil-ohn was capable of speech. She murmured politely as Lutha moved to join Trompe, and then the two woman put their heads together once more, to share the full delicious horror of what they’d just done.

Leelson Famber’s mother was in no mood to talk with Lutha Tall-staff. When Trompe insisted, she made them wait a discourteous amount of time before inviting them to her private quarters. During that time she dressed herself with some care and prepared herself mentally for what she supposed would be a request on the Tallstaff woman’s part for additional help with her idiot child.

It turned out, however, that Lutha Tallstaff had something else in mind.

“I’ve been asked by the Alliance to go to Dinadh,” Lutha announced. “With my son.”

Limia sat back, surprised both at the announcement and at the propriety of Lutha’s language. “My son,” she’d said. Many women might have said “Leelson’s son.” Or “our son.” “Leelson’s and my son.” Or even, courtesy forbid, “your grandson.”

Limia sat back in her chair, feeling an unintended frown creeping onto her forehead. “Yes,” she said, smoothing both her face and her voice. “What has that to do with me?”

“I don’t want to go,” said Lutha. “I’ve agreed to do so only if no other way can be found.”

“Other way?”

“The Dinadhi will allow entry to you. The Procurator says you’ve refused to go.”

“Yes.”

“I thought perhaps you didn’t understand how important the matter is and how very difficult the trip will be for me.”

“I am an old woman. You are a young one.” Among Fastigats, with their reverence for age, this was all that needed saying. Seemingly, it was not enough for the Tallstaff woman.

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