Lutha explained, “In order to be allowed to investigate Bernesohn Famber’s life there, I have to be connected with his lineage. This means I have to take my son with me.”
Limia’s gorge rose at the word lineage, but she kept her voice calm. “Surely that is not onerous.”
Lutha threw a glance in Trompe’s direction.
Smoothly he said, “Lutha Tallstaff correctly assesses that the visit to Dinadh will be more than merely onerous, mistress. It will be extremely difficult.”
Limia rose and stalked across the floor, her long skirts foaming around her ankles. With her back to the younger woman, she allowed herself a bitter smile. “Leave us, Trompe.”
“Mistress … ”
“Leave us!”
She waited until she heard the sound of the door sliding shut behind him. “I came to call upon you,” she said, turning to Lutha. “At your office. Remember.”
“Of course.
“When I first heard you were pregnant. I believe I told you then something of the family history.”
“I respect the meaning lineage has for you, madam, but as I said at the time, family histories are most interesting to members of the family in question. You’d made it clear you would never consider me as any part of your family.”
“I told you of the saying among Fastigats? Do you remember?”
“I remember it, madam. ‘Mankind, first among creatures. Fastigats, first among mankind. Fambers, first among Fastigats.’ “
Lutha thought it unbearably arrogant, then and now. “I thought it hyperbole, madam. Fastigats are not known as Firsters.”
“Ninety-nine percent of all Firsters are vulgar, but even they may occasionally assert a truth. It is a truth that the universe was made for man, not as Firsters exemplify man but as Fastigats exemplify man. Evolution moves in our direction. It is our pride and our duty. You would have been wise to respect our history and traditions, though you were outside them. I mentioned to you that Leelson’s line is composed of only sons.”
A fact that seemed to be generally known, considering what Lutha had overheard downstairs.
“I thought that interesting, but not compelling, madam. At best it is a statistical anomaly.”
“I asked you—no, I begged you not to go on with your pregnancy.”
“As I told you at the time, it was not something I had planned.” She hadn’t, and she had no explanation for not having done so. None at all. Against every tenet of her rearing, against every shred of her own resolution, it had simply happened.
Limia went on implacably: “You chose to ignore what I had to say. I explained that Leelson’s child would have a better chance of being valued by his father and by me if born to a Fastiga woman and, if a son, with the Fastigat skills. I spoke from conviction, from concern. As you now admit, you felt my reasoning was not meaningful, not compelling. Why, now, should your conviction be compelling to me? Why, now, should your difficulties or problems be my concern?”
Lutha stared out the window behind the woman, not wanting to look her in the face. Everything she said was true. The only omission from Limia’s account was Leelson’s reaction when Lutha had told him of his mother’s visit. He had been angered, infuriated. Let Limia keep her opinions to herself. If he wanted to father a child on Lutha, that was his business! At that moment Lutha had loved him most, for he had not spoken like a Fastigat but like a lover.
One could not say to Limia Famber, however, that the child had been Leelson’s choice. Limia Famber wasn’t interested in what her son had wanted. Had wanted. Then.
Very well. There was still one final question she needed to ask. Lutha breathed deeply, counting the breaths, holding her voice quiet as she said, “There is an additional possibility. Leelson himself could make this trip far easier than I, and he would have no reason to refuse. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Limia laughed harshly. “Don’t be a fool, woman! Do you think I would be so grievously upset if I knew where Leelson was? If I knew he was anywhere, alive? If I knew that, I could assume he has time yet to beget another child. If I knew he was still among the living, I would not despair of his posterity.”