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Colemenoport

Wayfarer


“Come with you?” Shan repeated. “You tempt me, love, never doubt it, but the master trader holds me in thrall. Until this port is proven—”

“Nonsense,” Priscilla said briskly. “I heard the master trader say only this morning that he could not proceed until the whole port inventory was completed.” She paused, head tipped.

“It’s true that he also put himself at the qe’andra’s service, in case she should need papers sorted, but I think she would understand, if the master trader put it to her that he was returning to the Passage to have his health evaluated by the medic and the ship’s Healer.”

She paused, as if awaiting an objection, and Shan obligingly said, “But I’m not ill.”

“You may not recall it, my love, but you hadn’t fully recovered from your adventure on Langlast when we arrived on Colemenoport. You came on-planet, opened your shields, and the ambient has buoyed you ever since. We know that the ambient acts on us, and in some measure amplifies our Gifts. What we don’t know is if it heals.”

Shan raised an eyebrow.

“I assume from this that you intend to repair to the ship for a medical evaluation and consultation with the ship’s Healer, as well,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Excellent. However, I feel compelled to note that this path has a curve at the end. For instance, if the medic and the ship’s Healer find me to be in good health, I would expect to return to Colemeno in service of the master trader’s business.”

“Of course,” Priscilla said calmly. “And, if I am cleared by the medic and the ship’s Healer, I’ll also return to Colemenoport, and the captain’s duties to the master trader.”

She met his eyes, and smiled.

Shan sighed, and shifted so that he was lying across the rug, his head in his lifemate’s lap. He closed his eyes, and after a moment, he felt her brush his hair.

They remained thus in communion for some minutes before he spoke again, eyes still closed.

“Priscilla.”

“Yes?”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’ll take that as praise.”

He snorted lightly.

“What will happen, I wonder, if one or both of us is found to have taken harm from Colemeno’s ambient conditions?”

“Then we will formulate a decision based on the known data,” Priscilla answered serenely. “It’s why we collect data isn’t it?”

“Altogether too reasonable,” he murmured. “Nor must we overlook the fact that standing at the head of a whole port inventory in the master trader’s absence will look well in Trader yos’Galan’s file.”

“Of course not. Does this mean that you agree?”

“Do you know? I think it does.”

“Good. Are you going to sleep, or should we find out what Luzant iberFel thinks is appropriate to a romantic picnic on the roof?”

“Oh, the basket, by all means!”

He sat up, and turned, so that he was kneeling before her, their faces at a level.

“Before we eat, I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I propose that we seal our bargain with a kiss.”

“Oh,” said Priscilla. “We wouldn’t want to ignore tradition, would we?”


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