Marianna linked an arm through his and they moved to the side of the room. "I know what you mean," she said as they moved-

"D'you miss it?'' he asked. "The action I mean, the being part of something important."

"Not really. I don't envy your still being in the public eye, if that's what you mean. That sort of ambition seems to have died. Running Gwyndryth is a full-time job. Sir Ombras is too old to do much of anything, poor darling. He fell asleep in the middle of the Moot last month. Still, I shan't replace him unless he asks me to.

We owe him too much to shove him aside just because he's old."

"He was always very kind to me," Jarrod com- mented. "And how is Lady Obray doing?"

"Dead, the G.o.ds be thanked," Marianna said bluntly.

"I never could abide that woman."

"I see," Jarrod said noncomminally. "Have you seen the boy?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, that's why I'm here."

Jarrod's eyes widened at her tone of voice. "You don't seem too happy about it."

"I'm not." She glanced around. "But 1 don't feel like talking about it here. The Chamberlain has a.s.signed me one of the royal apartments upstairs. Why don't we slip away and have a civilized drink and a chat?"

"Won't that compromise your reputation?" he asked

teasingly.

Her head tipped back and her robust laugh rang out.

"A divorced woman has no reputation at Court," she said, "surely you know that. But perhaps your reputa- tion . . . After all, a Mage of the Discipline, alone, at night, with a divorced woman ..." The laugh came again.

117.

"I'm prepared to risk the scandal," he said with mock gravity, steering her toward the door. "How discreet are your servants?"

"If I can't bribe them, I'm sure that you can threaten to turn them into something interesting." She giggled.

"Now, what's the problem with young Joscelyn?"

Jarrod asked once they were installed in her sitting room.

"He's been feeling his oats. Dean Handrom described him as 'a menace to the inst.i.tution.' " She caught the Dean's pompous delivery perfectly.

"Strong words. What on Strand has he been doing?"

"He translated one of the magisters onto the roof of the simples house, he used the Spell of Invisibility to obtain the answers to a test and then sold them to his fellow Apprentices, he gets into fights; shall I go on?"

Jarrod sat back and made a soft whistling sound.

"Stealing test results is grounds for immediate expul- sion. I don't understand it," he said, puzzled. "He was never like that at the Outpost. He was high-spirited, but he never got into serious trouble. I wonder what's got into him?"

"He isn't very communicative on the subject," Mar- ianna said. "He's at the age where mothers aren't pop- ular. I think that part of it is that this is the first time that he has been on his own, so to speak. When he was small, he was under my control. He's been at Stronta since then, under the eyes of his grandfather, the Gen- eral, Greylock, and his famous 'uncle,' the great Magi- cian. I hope it's nothing more than his making up for lost time and that he'll grow out of it, but how can one be sure?" She leaned forward and touched his sleeve.

"I'd appreciate it if you could have a word with the Dean."

Jarrod sighed. "I'll see what I can do," he said, "but I was never exactly his favorite pupil."

118 "Yes, weli you're a Mage now," she replied. She stopped and took a small sip of her cordial. "D'you like Joscelyn?" she asked unexpectedly.

"Like him?"

"Yes; as a person."

"Well, I'm fond of him, of course, but I've always thought of him as a little boy. He's a disarming little rogue with a knack of appearing good as gold."

"Not so little," Marianna countered. "He'll be as tall as you are in a couple of years. He already reminds me of you when we first met. Not quite so awkward, of course.''

"Oh, that's simply because he's young, tall and hand- some," Jarrod said, trying to bring some humor to the conversation.

Marianna gave him an obligatory smile and looked at him speculatively. "Have you ever thought of having children?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Once in a while, but there's the little question of a wife first."

She pursed her lips. "Not necessarily," she said.

She was looking directly at him, and the conversa- tion, combined with that look, was making him feel ner- vous.

"All in good time," he said as lightly as he could.

"All very well for you, you're a man," she replied, "but I don't have that luxury. If I want another child, and I do, I only have a couple of years left."

This was not the kind of talk that Jarrod was used to. "And do you have a prospective father picked out?"

he asked uneasily. As he said-it, the suspicion hit him.

He knew that his hands had clenched. He swallowed and tried for an appropriate smile.

"Oh yes." Her answering smiled looked feline to him.

"Surely you're not suggesting . . ." Jarrod began.

The smile broadened. "Modest as ever," Marianna 119.

said, and took another sip of her cordial. "Sure you won't have one?"

"No thank you."

"You're right, of course," she said, and a fluttering feeling started inside Jarrod. "I need another child to safeguard the succession to the Holding. Joscelyn has a strong gift, one doesn't need to be Talented to see that.

I very much doubt that he'll be interested in running the estate. He may never marry-so few of you seem to-and there's no guarantee that he won't die before his time. I can't risk having the line die out."

"But why marry me?" he asked, his voice sounding scratchy in his ears.

"Oh, I wouldn't marry you, my dear," Marianna said sweetly. "I wouldn't ask you to change your life. No one has to know that you're the father."

Jarrod pushed himself back in the chair. "You've done some crazy things in your time," he said, "but this is the strangest proposition you've ever come up with.

Not that I'm not nattered," he added quickly.

She laughed. It was genuine and the tension fell away.

"So you b.l.o.o.d.y well should be. Time was when I had to beat you off with a stick."