"Look," said Diana, nodding toward the silver-haired man. "He speaks Rhuian, too. If you listen to the interchange between him and Dr. Hierakis, you can tell he's translating for the others. I wonder where an old man like that learned Rhuian."
"Lady in Heaven," said David in a hushed voice. "It can't be." He sounded so odd that Diana turned to him in alarrn. But he was looking beyond her, beyond the gathering under the doctor's awning, beyond Soerensen's tent, toward the outskirts of the jaran camp.
Three jaran soldiers came cantering around the outer fringes of the vast encampment. An instant later, Diana realized that although they all were dressed in the red shirts and black trousers of the jaran soldier, two were female. The man was the one called Aleksi. Of the women, one had the black hair and olive complexion of those of the jaran who were dark, but the other had, not blonde hair and a fair complexion, but something in between. They pulled up thirty meters in front of Sorensen's tent and dismounted. The brown-haired woman was half a head taller than her female companion, as tall as the male, as tall as many of the jaran men; as tall as the women in Soerensen's party. She wore a saber at her belt and carried herself with the kind of unconscious authority of those who are used to an exalted position in life.
"Tess!" The exclamation came, unexpectedly, from Dr. Hierakis. She stood up abruptly, disrupting her conference.
As if on cue, the entrance to Soerensen's tent swept aside and Soerensen walked out, deep in conversation with Marco. He took two steps, glanced toward the doctor and the more distant clump that was Diana and David and Maggie, and stopped. For a beat, he did nothing. Then he looked straight up, along the converging lines of their sight, at his sister.
"Charles!" The name burst out of Terese Soerensen as if by accident. She clapped her hands over her mouth in a gesture that looked utterly spontaneous and after a moment lowered them. She had the kind of stupid grin on her face that afflicts people who are overwhelmingly nervous and excited together. A few words passed between her and her companions; then she ran forward and hugged her brother.
He, too, was smiling. They separated, and Tess turned to greet Marco. She laughed at him and slapped him with some amusement on the chest. He grinned. Diana could not hear what they were saying. Dr. Hierakis waded around the sea of healers and put out her arms.
This time, Tess Soerensen's smile looked more confident and more genuine. She embraced Dr. Hierakis firmly, and her smile as they parted was easy and cheerful. Skilled as Diana had become at reading body language, she could tell that the doctor's greeting was warmer than Charles Soerensen's; not more heartfelt, perhaps, but less constrained.
"My God, she's different," breathed David.
"Well well well," said Maggie.
"She's… she's…"
"I'd never heard she was quite that handsome as a girl. I always heard she was shy, awkward, and headstrong. But then, I've never met her, and by the time I signed on with His Nibs, she was at university and then absconded to Rhui."
"Reserved, not shy," corrected David, still gaping. Tess Soerensen glanced their way, and her eyes rounded suddenly, recognizing David. She hesitated, then waved him over.
"Invited to the presence," said Maggie.
"Damn you, Mags. Come with me. I'm not doing this alone. You, too, Diana."
"Cold feet?" Maggie asked.
"You cold-hearted bitch. Mags, please."
Maggie chuckled. "Well, come on, then, Diana. Our womanly presence will support the poor besotted fool."
'' 'What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.' "
"Lord," moaned David. But he straightened his shoulders and set off to cross the gap. Maggie followed, grabbing Diana by the wrist and tugging her along behind. The jaran healers sat quietly, patiently, and watched this little scene with interest. The silver-haired man smiled at Diana as she passed. The next instant, she realized that the young man sitting in the center, just now struggling to get back into his shirt, was Anatoly Sakhalin. As his head emerged through the collar, he glanced up, saw her, and averted his gaze from her as swiftly as if her presence stung him. Maggie dragged her to a stop behind David, and she had to wrench her attention back to the matter at hand.
"David!" Tess Soerensen was saying. "What are you doing here? Did Charles drag you along?''
It took Diana a moment to figure out what was strange about her speech: the cadences of her Anglais were slightly altered, as if she had not spoken it for some time.
"I had sufficient inducements," replied David. "I'm interested in ancient engineering, after all. Tess, you haven't met Maggie O'Neill."
"Honored," said Tess Soerensen, shaking Maggie's hand.
"Likewise," replied Maggie with her usual aplomb. "I'm Charles's assistant, recorder, and official historian. This is one of the actors, Diana Brooke-Holt."
Diana smiled at Tess Soerensen. Tess had fine green eyes and a sincere smile, but nothing of her brother's quietly formidable bearing. "Honored," Diana said, feeling all at once that she might like this woman and not feeling at all overawed by her. "I understand you're doing linguistics fieldwork here, M. Soerensen."
"Tess, please." Soerensen blinked, looking confused for a moment. She glanced at her brother and immediately an expression of comprehension flashed over her features. "Of course," she said, sounding a little simpleminded. "My linguistics research. Of course. And you're one of the-actors?"
"The Bharentous Repertory Company," put in Dr. Hierakis. "Surely you've heard of them, Tess. They've come along to do some fieldwork themselves."
"Of course I've heard of them. I saw them in Berlin, performing the Mahabharata. I don't recall if you were with them then." She considered a moment and as if by habit glanced back toward her two jaran companions, still waiting fifty paces out. "Oh, hell," she said under her breath.
Charles Soerensen was a quiet man, holding his power in reserve, hoarding it, concealing it from a power greater than his own-the power of the Chapalii Empire. Waiting for a chance to strike again, to free humanity from the yoke of the alien Empire. Even his entrances, such as the one Diana had just witnessed, were subtle, small entrances, perfectly timed but not showy, and never ostentatious.
From the camp, entering stage left, came an altogether different kind of leader. He walked with only two attendants, and yet the two could as well have been one hundred, they endowed him with so much state.
Bakhtiian looked furious. His fury radiated so far that even though Diana could barely distinguish his features, she could read anger in every line of his body.
"Excuse me," said Tess, turning to leave.
"Where are you going, Tess?" asked her brother quietly.
Tess cast a rueful grin back over her shoulder. "To head him off at the pass."
"No," said Charles.
Tess halted as if she had been pulled short by a rope. She did not move at all for a moment, then she spun back. "Charles, let me go." She sounded-angry? scared? shocked? — Diana could not tell.
"We will wait here," he replied calmly.