He moved, Scout-quick, smoothing her thick brown hair with one hand while he slid the flower home just above her right ear."Let us be certain that it is well-anch.o.r.ed," Daav said, hands hovering. "Move your head now-look up at me. Ah-"

"Stand away from my sister!"

The voice was, of course, too loud. Had the phrase been whispered it would have been too loud, at this gather. Daav sighed and glanced up.

The young man bearing down on them had something of Etgora's look to him, albeit Etgora in an ugly pet. He had, Daav judged, about twenty Standard years.

"Calm yourself, sir," Daav said moderately. "I am doing your sister no harm."

"I will be the judge of that, sir!" the other snapped. "As kinsman, I-"

"Jen Dal, be still!" Kesa flung about-the flower stayed firmly in place, Daav saw with pleasure. "There's nothing amiss." She swallowed and glanced back to Daav. "Lord yos'Phelium, here is my brother Jen Dal del'Fordan. Jen Dal, here is Daav yos'Phelium Clan-"

"I know who he is," Jen Dal said awfully. "Sir, you have not yet put yourself at a decent distance from my sister." Kesa made a sound rather like a splutter, which Daav interpreted as outrage. Her brother spared her a single withering glance.

"Be still, Kesa. This is a matter of honor."

"If it's a matter of my honor," Kesa said, with spirit, "then I should judge the damage and the price, not you."

"Completely by Code," Daav said, uneasily aware that they were attracting a crowd.

The young gentleman stared at him, eyes hard with hatred. So, thought Daav, the balloons were not strung so low by accident. Here's one who has taken Etgora's fall as a blow to his heart, and cannot see 'round his anger to the greater good of the house.

"My sister is a child, sir. It is as ludicrous to expect her to know proper Code as it is to expect her to know all the faces of harm."

Daav drew a breath, trying to still the quick flare of anger. For Kesa's sake, for the sake of Etgora's value to Korval, he would not lose his temper. He would quell this self-important upstart and dismiss him, then disperse the growing crowd of the curious. He was Chi yos'Phelium's son. These things were not beyond him.

"Sir, your concern for your kin does you credit. However, I feel that you have allowed an elder sibling's natural partiality-"

Jen Dal del'Fordan turned his face away.

"Kesa," he said, as if Daav had finished speaking-no, as if Daav had never begun to speak!-"pray remove yourself from the proximity of this-person."

Tears filled the brown eyes. "Jen Dal, he is our guest! I am quite unharmed, Lord yos'Phelium was only placing a flower in my hair, as I asked him to do!" There was a ripple through those gathered at that, but Jen Dal was unmoved.

"This man is son of a House with a long history of predation among the lesser Houses. I will not see himattack my kin. He will-"

Oh, G.o.ds, Daav thought, suddenly seeing the destination of the farce. You fool! He leaned forward and touched Kesa lightly on the sleeve.

"Lady, your brother is correct. You cannot stay this."

For a heartbeat, the brown eyes searched his face, then she stepped back, bowed fully-House child to Honored Guest-and turned, she walked away as sedately as one with years of negotiation behind her, and the crowd parted to let her through.

"You, sir," Jen Dal del'Fordan cried, "will satisfy the honor of my House!"

"Don't be absurd," Daav said, voice stringently calm, despite the anger trembling within. "The honor of your House is intact, as you well know."

"I know nothing of the sort. Korval destroys Clans as casually as I pluck a flower." The last was said with a sneer and Daav caught his breath at the sheer, blinding stupidity of the man. Did he not know that even now Korval and Etgora were mending the damage given his Clan? Did he not know that with Korval's patronage and the smiles of the High Houses, Etgora would recover its loss and reap new profits before Kesa signed her first Contract lines?

"You do your sister an injustice-you call her honor and her understanding into question before all these."

He threw an arm out, showing the so-quiet crowd damming the pathway. "Is this the path a brother treads, in the task of keeping his kin safely? Your understanding is at fault in this, sir. Neither Etgora nor Etgora's children has taken lasting harm from Korval. Have done and stand away."

Jen Dal del'Fordan smiled. "And I say," he returned, voice, without doubt, pitched to carry far into the gardens, "that Korval has tainted Etgora's honor. Everyone here has heard me. I will have satisfaction, sir!"

Fool! Daav raged, forcing himself to breathe deeply. He bowed, deliberately, in the mode of Master to Novice, taking a savage satisfaction in the gasp from the crowd.

"Call the House's dueling master," he said, and his voice was not-quite-steady. "I will satisfy you."

From tine corner of his eye, he saw the crowd waver and reform with Etgora and his mother in the first rank. His mother's face was very calm.

THE CARD TABLES in the sunset Glade had been hastily removed to make room for the combatants.

Clan Etgora's dueling master bowed to Daav.

"My Lord yos'Phelium. As the one challenged, you may choose the weapons of the duel. The House can provide pistols, swords, knives, or Turing forks from its own a.r.s.enal. If you wish a weapon we do not own, the House will acquire a matched set of the weapon of your choice, within reason. If it appears, in the judgement of the Master of the Duel, that your weapon has been chosen with an eye to indefinitely postponing this duel, you will be required to choose another weapon. Is this understood, sir?"

"It is." Daav closed his eyes, briefly considering edges and explosives, bludgeons, the perfectly tuned gun in his sleeve, but-no. Such weapons were insufficiently potent; they limited one to the infliction of merephysical damage. He required-he would have-a fuller Balance.

Daav opened his eyes and pointed at the gaily colored balloons, strung on their strings at the edge of the glade.

"There is my weapon of choice, sir. If the House is able, let a dozen of those be filled with water and let both my opponent and I choose three. Can this be done?"

The dueling master bowed. "Indeed it can. And the distance?"

"Twelve paces, I believe," Daav said, counting the moves. "Yes, that will do."

"Very well," said the dueling master and went away to give instructions.

The balloons arrived in very short order and were placed, carefully, on the lawn. A murmur rose up from the crowd-and an outcry from Daav's opponent.

"What is this? Toys? Do you consider a challenge from Etgora a matter for mockery, sir? Dueling master! Take these insults away, sir, and bring us the matched set in the mahogany case!"

The dueling master bowed. "The rules of the duel state clearly that weapons are the choice of the challenged, sir. Lord yos'Phelium has chosen balloons filled with water, at twelve paces. He is within both his rights and the bounds of the duel."

"I will not-" began Jen Dal, but it was Etgora who spoke up from the sidelines.

"Do you know, my son, I think you will? Lord yos'Phelium has made his choice. Plainly, he is a man who stands by his decisions, no matter how foolish they may appear. I would counsel you to do the same."

"Lord yos'Phelium," said the Master of Duel, "choose your weapons."

Daav stepped forward, knelt in the gra.s.s and picked up the first balloon. It was not quite as firm as he wished and he set it aside. The second pleased him and he cradled that one in his arm. The third ...

"Will you hurt him?" Kesa asked from his side. He glanced at her, unsmiling.

"I do not think these will hurt him, though that is always a danger, in a duel."

"But you will make him ridiculous," said Kesa. "Jen Dal hates to be laughed at."

"Many people do," Daav said, finding his third weapon in the seventh balloon. He tucked it neatly in the cradle of his left arm and rose to his feet. "Stand clear of the firing range, Lady Kesa. Of your kindness."

She hesitated a moment longer, throwing one of her disconcertingly direct looks at his face. Then she bowed, simply, as between equals, and walked sedately to her father's side, in the first rank of spectators.

Daav waited while his opponent randomly picked his weapons, then stomped to the center of the field, the balloons wriggling and threatening to leap from his ineptly crossed arms.

The dueling master held his hands over his head.

"The contestants will count off six paces each, turn and stand steady. First shot to the challenged. A hit is counted only on a strike to the body of one's opponent. The affair is finished when each contestant has expended his ammunition. The win goes to the contestant who has taken the least hits, or to he whodraws first blood. In case of tie, Lady yo'Lanna shall decide the victor." He lowered his hands and stepped back.

"Gentlemen, turn. Count off. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Turn! Lord yos'Phelium, fire at will."

Deftly, Daav plucked a balloon from the cradle of his arm, gauged its flow, probable spin and ma.s.s-and threw.

The balloon elongated, caught up with itself, tumbled once and hit Jen Dal's tunic, dead center, with a satisfying splat. Someone in the crowd laughed, and quickly stopped.

"This is a farce!" shouted Jen Dal.

"It is a duel," the master returned sternly. "Attend, if you please, sir. The shot is yours."

Jen Dal clumsily tipped his balloons onto his off-hand, s.n.a.t.c.hed one free, holding it firmly-as it happened, a bit too firmly, for the sphere exploded, showering him with water.

Ignoring the resulting curses, the dueling master looked to Daav, who sent his next balloon high into Jen Dal's left shoulder.

The dueling master had scarcely given his sign before the sodden young man had s.n.a.t.c.hed up his second balloon-somewhat less robustly-and hurled it in Daav's direction.

It was a good throw, only missing by twelve or fifteen inches.

Daav weighed his last balloon in his hand and considered deloping.

"A duel with toys and water," Jen Dal del'Fordan called from his position. "Korval takes good care that it spills no blood for honor."

The balloon was airborne before Daav had taken conscious thought. It sped, hard and true, and struck his opponent precisely in the nose.

Jen Dal howled, dropped his remaining balloon and bent double, both hands rising to his face. Med-techs rushed in from the sidelines and the dueling master raised his hands above his head.

"Lord yos'Phelium has drawn first blood! The duel is done!"

"HOWEVER DID YOU hit upon water balloons?" his mother inquired some time later, in the privacy of Jelaza Kazone's upstairs parlor.

"Something I read of Terran custom," Daav said hazily. "You know what Scouts are, ma'am!"

"Indeed I do," she replied, sipping wine and looking out into the peaceful night-time garden.

Abruptly, she turned from the window. "Daav, I am persuaded you did right to speak to the Delm about your worthiness to stand Korval."

He froze, heart rising into his throat. She had seen! Observing the duel with Korval's Own Eyes, she had seen his error. She understood that at the moment of decision he had not acted for the good of the Clan but from his own sense of injury, exacting a Balance-a Balance brutal of a halfling's dignity.Worse, he had gained an enemy of his own rank-for he had heard, later, that Jen Dal was Etgora's heir-who hated him now, and would surely hate him when they both came Delm-high. All his mother's careful work, undone. Undone, because Daav could not put the good of all before his own bad temper.

It must be Er Thom, now, he thought. With Er Thom as Korval, Etgora may deal without malice, saving only I'm kept sanely out of sight...

Belatedly, he became aware of his mother's eyes upon him, and bowed. "Ma'am ...."

She raised her hand. "Speak not. I will tell you that the Delm has reviewed her Decision, based on what she has seen of your understanding and judgment this evening. You acted as well as inexperience might, preserving both Etgora's heir and the peace between our Houses. with age will come ... tidier ...

solutions." She smiled faintly.

"You are na'delm, my son. Korval-to-be. I trust you will not feel it necessary to revisit the matter. I doubt you will find the Delm so accommodating again."

He stared, speechless. She had seen with Delm's Eyes, but she had not understood. Korval Herself had erred in a matter of Clan. He moved his head, trying to clear his vision, which was abruptly indistinct.

His mother moved forward, smile deepening. "Don't look so stricken, child," she said gently. "You'll do very well." She raised a hand to cup his cheek. "Or at least as well as any of us have."

Changeling

Adventures in the Liaden Universe #6?

Sharon Lee and Steve Miller 2000.

ISBN 1-59787-090-8.

THE FIRST THING THEY told him when he emerged from the catastrophic healing unit was that his wife had died in the accident.

The second thing they told him was that her Clan was pursuing retribution to the fullest extent of the Code.

They left him alone, then, the med techs, with instructions to eat and rest. The door slid closed behind them with the snap of a lock engaging.

Out of a habit of obedience, he walked over to the table and lifted the cover from the tray. The aroma of glys-blossom tea rose to greet him and he dropped the cover, tears rising.

He had not known his wife well, but she had been pretty and bold and full of fun-one found it inconceivable, newly healed from one's own injuries and with the scent of her preferred blend in the air, that she was-that she was- Dead.The tears spilled over, blinding him. He raised his hands to cover his face and wept where he stood.

His name was Ren Zel dea'Judan, Clan Obrelt. He was twenty-one Standard years old and the hope of all his kin.

THEY WERE SHOPKEEPERS, Clan Obrelt. It scarcely mattered what sort of shop, as long as it wanted keeping. In the hundreds of years since the first dea'Judan took up the trade, Obrelt had kept flower shops, sweet shops, hardware shops, book shops, wine shops, green groceries and shops too odd to mention. The shops they kept were never their own, but belonged to other, wealthier, Clans who lacked Obrelt's genius for management.

Having found a trade that suited them, Obrelt was not minded to change. They settled down to the work with a will and achieved a certain reputation. Eventually, it came to be Obrelt managers that the High Clans sought to manage the stores the High Clans owned. In the way of commerce, the price that Obrelt might ask of Clans desirous of employing their shopkeepers rose. The House became-not wealthy, not in any Liaden terms-but comfortably well-off. Perhaps not nearly so well-off by the standard of the far homeworld, Liad itself; but comfortable enough by the easy measure of outworld Casia.