FLETCHER

For the first two centuries, Fort Rimon occupied the south-to-eastern sections of the bay. In the third century, the commerce district expanded along the bay into the Fifth Hill district. The mixed commerce and residential Sixth and Seventh Hill districts developed in the fourth and fifth centuries, moving inland toward the construction fields which were becoming the third most productive in the then ten systems. Expansion along the north side of the bay did not begin until the eighth century but spread quickly along the eighth and ninth hills. ~ excerpt from The Fourth System, a visitor’s guide

Clarice sipped coffee, the bitter Fortuna beverage made palatable with the liberal addition of sweetener and cream. At fifth bell plus thirty, the sky was dark beyond the conference chamber windows, the moons set. Verity was by the reviewer, working the settings until the Blooded Dagger Cartouche formed.

Chrys passed his slate over the final wall, checking for stealth devices. “Clear.” He nodded at the reviewer. “The chamber is sealed to Blooded Dagger under Lilian’s authority as vistrite conservator. We are as secure as possible.”

It seemed improbable that any of Bright Star or the battle survivors using honor points this day would attempt commerce espionage, but it was not impossible. The door chimed and Chrys went to admit Pippa.

Her mass of curls pulled into a tail, she tripped into the chamber, one hand carrying a massive cup, the other dangling a box. “I stopped for pastry. Oh, you have coffee, excellent. I have almost finished mine.” Setting the box on the table she reached for the carafe. “I brought my slate configured for access to the public archives. If we need aught, I am ready.”

For all Pippa appeared flighty, Clarice knew her to be a brilliant archivist. If there was a need, she would have the answer in moments. Setting her slate by the Blooded Dagger archives station, Clarice confirmed her access to Thornscore and their bid templates.

The Blooded Dagger Cartouche dissolved, and Lilian appeared with Tabitha, Simon, Douglas, and Rebecca behind her. She nodded at Clarice, “If you would open the session.”

No one asked about Malcon. Seigneur Trevelyan’s lieutenant disappeared without notice on a regular basis and, even if they had asked, Rebecca would give only the vaguest of replies. Nor was it essential that they all be present, but no one wanted to miss the event.

Chrys’ eyes remained on his slate, Rebecca mirroring him on the reviewer. Clarice focused on the timekeeper as the moments passed. Thirty seconds after sixth bell, the Bright Star tracts appeared. With a flick of his finger, Chrys had the reviewer segmented. On one side was Lilian’s office, the other the scrolling list of coordinates overlaying Bright Star Deuce. “As expected, Blooded Dagger has two miles on either side of the crevasse and above the apex.”

He moved his gaze from his slate to the reviewer and back. “The plains closest to the base of the crevasse are the best location. Access to fresh water, good soil composition. Easy to cultivate, but the stellar transit center will be within the Blooded Dagger region. We are better to go north a few miles.”

“Not as yet,” Lilian said with a touch of wistfulness. “And with the vistrite, it will be sometime before Blooded Dagger allows ancients scholars to excavate the area.”

“Exciting, but not significant to our bids.” Chrys gestured at the listing. “It is more than a hundred miles north of the crevasse base. We should try to be within ten miles of the base. Here. This section has excellent soil, good water, and the geological profile suggests naught that will interest those seeking to mine. This should be our first selection. We should commit half our tracts.”

Chrys tapped his slate. The image of the continent shifted from the southern hemisphere to the equator. “This area will be excellent for citrus, and the growing season will balance the south. Eleven of our remaining tracts will suffice, but we want this section, bordering the lake.”

Chris chuckled. “Ten thousand acres is a lot of land, even for an agra-cohort. And the weather is unpredictable. We have selected southern hemisphere and tropical holdings; we need to look north.”

Another ten minutes and Chrys had identified a northern hemisphere region that edged an ocean. “We could augment our holdings with a fishery.”

It was another bell as they placed their bids for second and third choices. A sevenday from the coming First Day, they would own land in the Thirteenth System.

Fletcher made his final entry and stared at the reviewer. The bidding had not taken long. Most of the available tracts were on Bright Star Prime, with only limited options on Deuce. But Fletcher had expected that Monsignor Lucius would limit access to ensure loyal Blooded Dagger and Serengeti retainers dominated on the vistrite planet. Between his survey experience, and what Nickolas had learned of Bright Star Deuce, he knew which areas would be viable. By the time Fletcher reached the Thirteenth System he would have land on Bright Star Deuce.

As expected, less than ten percent of the two planets were placed for bid, and it was still more land than there were honor points. The commerce bidding starting after the new year would open another twenty percent. The Bright Star Consortium intended to control fifty percent or more of the two habitable worlds.

He wondered if the Nightingale had begun surveying the uninhabitable planets. The gas giant would hold little appeal; planets of that type were notoriously difficult to penetrate. The other two might well hold precious metals, minerals, or gems. If he could convince Raleigh to allow him a flyer, Fletcher might yet explore one of those worlds.

Rising, he stretched and noticed that the sun was well up. A race through the grounds and along the cliff would suit him well. In a sevenday, he would be on a freighter bound for the Thirteenth System, and racing would be restricted to auto-racers.

Fortuna’s white sun was warmer than it appeared, a welcome breeze flowing through the streets of the old town. The notion of a stroll appealed to Clarice after days on the Shimmering Horizon, and the quaint section of the city had none of the bustle of the commerce center. With it not yet eighth bell, only the cafés were open, the crowds that would descend after midday nowhere in evidence.

Clarice tilted her head to avoid the sun’s glare. “I never quite get accustomed to the purple. Both Metricelli Prime and Deuce have blue skies, although Deuce’s is deeper. At midday it remains cornflower-blue, while Prime’s can be so pale it makes me think of bleached turquoise. At least during the dry season.”

Pippa made a humming sound. “Artesia’s sky is blue. Deeper than Crevasse city but not as deep as cornflower.” She turned her head to the couple following behind. “Chrys, did you not say Bright Star Deuce has a blue sky?”

Chrys and Verity had stopped to gaze into a shop displaying an array of small water-art sculptures, each running with the distinctive purple water of the bay.

Retracing her steps, Pippa frowned at the display. “These are tawdry. Oh—you must visit the warehouse while you are here. I found the most wonderful artisan in Destinytown. Her sculptures are quite extraordinary. I was planning to send visuals, but since you are here, you must see them. There is one that would be ideal for an entryway. Chrys, are you planning to buy a house now that you have Roland?”

Laughing, Chrys held up a hand. “A warehouse visit is a sound notion. This voyage came up so quickly, and with the bidding, we gave no thought to other Thornscore commerce.”

Movement across the way captured Clarice’s attention. Had she seen that woman in green before? The woman disappeared into a café.

“I thought we were followed. But . . .” There was no movement from the café. “Maybe it was the dress. The color was close to the one I wore to Katleen’s cotillion.”

Pippa was in mid-speech, “. . . With Fletcher attending my soiree this evening, it should make all the societal media.”

Horrified at Pippa’s comment, Clarice turned back to the trio. “Fletcher is weary of media attention. If you would please him, do not expose him to it.”

Pippa’s eyes widened. “I had no notion. I will tend to it. I know, we can turn the attention to Chrys and Verity. He was at the battle. Everyone will be pleased he has found a son and a spouse. It all so romantic.”

Clyde snorted. “Change your attire. The gray boots and belt lack the added accessories. I have fitted the black half boots, and the walnut boots.”

The silver tunic and charcoal trousers were among Fletcher’s favorites, and according to Brianne, very becoming. He was eager to see Clarice and wanted to look his best. If all went well, he could end the evening in her chamber at Serengeti House. “I doubt I will face assault at the botanical gardens.”

One of the local Serengeti militia guards deftly piloted the transport up the steep winding Seventh Hill transitway, leaving behind the commerce district in favor of a residential section that seemed to have samples of every architectural style from the past three centuries. Mrs. Tasha sat next to the driver. Two guards seemed excessive to Clarice, but she was not lackwit enough to question Seigneur Trevelyan’s orders.

The transport turned onto a broad avenue, and the gardens came into view. Bright lights flooded the front of the metal-and-glass structure. The original dome from the fifth century had been repurposed to serve as the reception area. A semicircle of three much larger domes surrounded and dwarfed the original structure. According to the visitor’s guide, beyond the domes were a series of terraces. The location had been selected because Seventh Hill was the tallest in Fort Rimon and had unobstructed sunlight.

Across from the gardens, the street held a blend of restaurants and boutiques enjoying a steady stream of customers from the nearby residential section. Finding an open spot, the driver glided their transport to a halt. Mrs. Tasha exited first and then signaled approval.

It was a lovely neighborhood, and not too far from Serengeti’s Fortuna headquarters. Glancing around, Clarice wondered if it was worthwhile seeking temporary quarters rather than remaining in the guesthouse. Something in a passing transport caught her attention, but before she could focus on it, Mrs. Tasha gestured for them to enter the gardens.

Leaving the driver to find a place for the transport, they climbed the shallow steps to the entrance. The gardens were closed to the public at sunset but could be leased for private entertainment. A smiling docent directed them through the northern dome and out to the first level of terraces.

The rectangular terrace had a paved section with a stone balustrade overlooking the city and distant bay. At its center was a carved stone fountain worked in shades of blue, gray, and white, flowing with purple water. Raised heating units were interspersed with catering stations. The blossoming trees were bright with twined fairy lights, and tables were arranged on the pavement. A set of four broad stairs led down to the manicured gardens where soft lights marked the pathways.

Hidden devices filled the air with the lively string and flute music popular on Fortuna. Moving toward the central fountain, they sought Pippa. Clarice glimpsed Pippa’s brother, Sinjin, and one of Sinjin’s friends in the governor’s militia. No sign of Fletcher, but it was early.

She turned, her breath catching at sight of his strong shoulders encased in silver silk. The tunic was perfectly tailored, the color giving his dark complexion a burnished glow.

Expression softening, he waited for Chrys and Verity to precede them. “Pleasant. I enjoyed lunch with some of my friends from the Leonardo Society and watched a cutter practice.”

The narrow, sail-driven watercraft were common for recreation and there were a series of races to be held in another month. “I recall you and Nickolas competed for Bright Star at one point.”

Fletcher chuckled, no more immune to Pippa’s bright charm than anyone else. “We were discussing the upcoming cutter races.”

“Will you return in time to join Bright Star’s team? Their performance has been erratic without you and Nickolas. I wager anyway, of course. But it would be so much more exciting if—”

“Clarice, Fletcher, well met.” Sinjin interrupted his sister without shame. “Let me find you something to drink. Do you hunger? I recommend the artichoke mousse.”

Detaching them from Pippa, Sinjin led them to catering station. In no time they were happily engaged with several of Sinjin’s militia comrades and a composer with a fascinating view on a popular saga. From there, they gravitated from one group to the next, Fletcher being greeted warmly by many. Clarice had known he was popular on Fortuna during his Nightingale training, but not to the extent he was held in esteem by the warrior elite. She was quite certain that at least two lovely women had enjoyed liaisons with him at one point or another.

When he was pulled away by a prelate to discuss the latest cutter design, Clarice was glad to retreat to the small table Chrys and Verity had claimed near the stairs. For all Verity was as fond of Pippa as the rest of Thornscore, she was by nature shy and tended to become weary in crowds. Clarice was more sociable, but she was beginning to feel as if her face was frozen in a smile.

At Clarice’s expression, Chrys chuckled. “The man cannot take his eyes off you. He hung on your every word at Captain Gehrig’s reception.”

Their words eased her growing sense of inadequacy, but that Fletcher’s attention was so noticeable was also disconcerting. “I am enjoying getting to know him, again.”

“He is different since the battle. Or maybe the change started on Fortuna. We saw him little in the year before the Nightingale’s flight. He has matured.”

Chrys shrugged. “Time and war will do that. I do note that he is not as quick with a jest or tale as he once was. Does it trouble you?”

The insecurities of the past half period came flooding back. “We are not equals. He is a signet heir, and I am an orphan without family.”

Chrys shook his head. “You are protégé to Serengeti’s legalistics seigneur. Recognized by Lord Apollo as a Shades’ warrior. Legalistics lead for mercium and acting Fortuna legalistics master. You are also a Thornscore principal and soon-to-be owner of land in the Thirteenth System.”

“Not in any physical manner. He is far too honorable. But it would be far too easy to become attached. When he discards me, I could be broken beyond repair.”

“Because for all Chrys’ list of my accomplishments, I am the product of a mother who earned our way as guesthouse pleasure companion and an unknown father. Fletcher can trace his warrior lineage to both Mulan and Sinead.”

Chrys shrugged. “Pleasure companion is not high-status, but it is honest labor. And Katleen’s father is unknown. It did not keep the Third System warrior elite from crowding her cotillion.”

“Or Fletcher to Monsignor. He is heir to a cadet signet, not a preeminence.” Verity shook her head. “And there is no saying that you may not tire of Fletcher. How can you know? Why not explore what you feel? How broken can your heart get in another sevenday? He will be gone for at least a month, and you will have time to consider matters.”

Somehow, Fletcher had misplaced Clarice. She had been at his side, and when he turned to ask her opinion, she was gone. Admittedly, cutter design was not a topic she would find intriguing. Nor could he expect her to ignore her friends to cling to his side. Nevertheless, the gathering was not as bright without her.

Noticing Pippa’s shining locks, Fletcher turned in her direction. She might know where to find Clarice. Even better, he could ask her to suggest a Seventh Day entertainment that would appeal to Clarice. He followed the darting figure around the terrace without quite catching her. The woman did flit about like an excited hummingbird.

Fearing Rigel’s excitement or pride might lead him to voice more about Farstar than was wise, Fletcher altered course.

Following Rigel’s voice, he found him with a group by the fountain. Fletcher recognized the Euphrates master associate and Euphrates protégé, but not the attractive woman who appeared to be the source of Rigel’s preening.

The protégé, Anvyl, made a scoffing sound. “At least they are warriors. Do you not find it questionable that so many commoners have access to the honor bidding?”

Rigel sputtered and then squared his shoulders. “All the bidders have honor points from Bright Star or the battle. As an honorable warrior, I cannot complain that those who fought and bled to protect the Thirteenth System are given priority.”

The master associate, Grayse, snorted. “Those commoners use our warrior honor against us. Does it not trouble you to see them infiltrate Serengeti protégé ranks?”

Fletcher was tempted to intervene, but Rigel was holding his own, defending both Bright Star and Serengeti. It was a distinct improvement over the man who disdained Blythe.

The woman’s lips twisted in derision. “Seigneur Trevelyan is a warrior made, not born. It is not a shock he would not know better than to elevate a commoner. But the others?”

Anvyl leaned toward the woman in a confidential manner. “Seigneur Rachelle is from a declining line, and there was the unfortunate demise of her last protégé. Few warrior families will risk her mentorship.”

The still flame is power contained. Rachelle’s protégé Irina fell at the siege of Serengeti. Fletcher grieved her loss and knew his feelings were naught compared to Seigneur Rachelle’s grief.

Grayse chortled. “Then there is the legalistics seigneur making his apprentice his protégé. That made no sense until Monsignor Hercules’ favor became clear. No doubt Seigneur Herman was delighted to have Grey Spear owe him a boon for making his former apprentice acceptable. I wonder if she will be returned to the associate pool now that Grey Spear has discarded her.”

Chrys Marlowe was toe to toe with Anvyl. “You are a vile servant of anarchy. You malign some of the finest warriors in the Thirteen Systems and disparage my commerce kin. You will meet me in a match square.”

Anvyl laughed, his eyes measuring Chrys. The Euphrates protégé was several inches shorter, but well built. “Why wait? The terrace will suffice.”

He followed his statement with a blow to Chrys jaw that rocked him back a step. Before Chrys could recover, Anvyl darted to one side, braced his palms on the stone balustrade, and leapt over it to drop the three feet to the grassy bank below.

Grayse gave a cheer and vaulted down to the terrace where Chrys and Anvyl were exchanging blows. Circling the combatants, he called out, “Do it, Anvyl. Teach the farmer his place.”

Fletcher bolted for the stairs. Chrys ducked a blow and pivoted, coming in low. He caught Anvyl’s hip with a glancing kick. Anvyl grabbed Chrys’ ankle, attempting a throw that caused Chrys to stagger into Grayse. Grayse made a club with his hands and struck Chrys in the back, forcing him toward Anvyl.

The other man grinned and beckoned. He was taller and heavier than Fletcher, with a reputation for brawling. “Show me what half a warrior can do.”

The wild flame destroys and cleanses. Existence tunneled. There was naught but Fletcher, Grayse, and the next moment. Pulse pounding, Fletcher pivoted on his left foot, and brought his right around, slamming it into the other man’s hip. Grayse staggered but did not go down. Fletcher followed, slamming his left palm into the man’s chest, and striking his jaw with his right.

Grayse grunted and answered with an uppercut Fletcher blocked with his left. Grayse grabbed the blocking forearm and twisted, seeking to throw Fletcher over his hip. In battle, use all your abilities to the maximum. Fletcher planted his left foot and pulled back, breaking the hold on his left arm and wrapping his right around Grayse. They hit the grass and rolled. Fletcher caught Grayse’s left arm and wrenched it up behind his back.

Using his weight and legs to keep Grayse pinned facedown on the grass, Fletcher tightened his grip on the contorted arm. “Yield.”

Fletcher released his grip, springing back and up in one smooth movement. He did not trust a man who fouled another in fair contest to hold to his word.

The roaring in his ears took on definition and he realized it was a crowd cheering. Most of Pippa’s guests had lined the balustrade or spilled down onto the terrace. A few feet away, Verity was dabbing at Chrys’ split lip, while a member of the Euphrates cutter team helped Anvyl to his feet. From his dazed movements, Anvyl had come out the worst for the battle.

Where is Clarice? He turned and found her barefoot, hair disheveled standing over the unknown woman who had blood flowing from her nose. The sight of Clarice triumphant in battle turned his bloodlust to passion. He took a step toward her and was blocked by Rigel.

“Fletcher,” Rigel held a cup of ice and a cloth. “What—” his face split into a grin. “There is not a mark on you. Well done.”

Sinjin pushed through the crowd, Pippa on his heels. “What possible reason could you have to brawl at my sister’s soiree?”

Rigel answered, “Anvyl uttered vile calumny against Chrys’ seigneur and Chrys challenged him to a formal commerce match. Anvyl decided to start it here and now.”

Verity’s voice was blade sharp. “Then that one, the one Fletcher trounced, joined Anvyl and attacked Chrys from behind. Fletcher cried foul.”

“She deserved it for disparaging Seigneur Trevelyan, but I saw her trip Verity coming down the stairs. Probably to distract Chrys.” Clarice shrugged. “She should spend more time in the training chambers. I could have broken it, had I wished it.”

Pippa’s eyes widened. “Anvyl and Willemina? You insulted Serengeti? And Grayse, what demon possessed you to interfere in Anvyl’s match?”

Rigel stepped forward. “Grayse misspoke both Monsignor Hercules and Seigneur Herman. I was preparing to offer a challenge when the brawl started. I do so now.”

“I did,” Fletcher said. “Like Rigel, I was preparing to challenge Grayse when the brawl started.” He looked at the younger man. “You may have the privilege of defending Monsignor Hercules. I will defend Seigneur Herman and Iron Hammer.”

Did the man pale? He should. Lady Pallas was far more terrifying than her husband, Seigneur Thule. As Euphrates medicates seigneur, Thule had the power to destroy careers. Lady Pallas would destroy reputations.

Clarice closed the distance to Fletcher. “Before you duel Grayse or Anvyl, you should know they are both cousins to Pippa.”

Fireballs. Farstar’s contracts with Thornscore created a commerce link between Pippa and Fletcher that would make shedding her cousins’ blood awkward to the point of scandal.

Clarice gestured at the woman. “Willemina is not kin, but she has close ties with the governor’s militia commander.”

Pippa clapped her hands. “It is clear that my cousins have over-enjoyed the party and their drunken ramblings have caused our Serengeti guests distress.” She turned beguiling eyes on Fletcher. “Will Serengeti honor be satisfied with a retraction?”

He met Chrys’ eyes and received a nod, one echoed by Rigel. He knew where Clarice stood; Verity’s nod was the final vote. “We will accept a retraction.”

His eyes narrowed even as his face flushed. “I assure you, we hold Serengeti and its seigneurs in the highest regard.”

Under Pippa’s unwavering stare, the other two echoed the sentiment. As soon as they were done, Sinjin and one of his militia friends assisted the battered trio from the terrace.

At her urging, the guests dispersed, and in a surprisingly few moments, the music and chatter had returned to pre-brawl levels.

Pippa ushered Fletcher and the rest of the Serengeti group to a table overlooking the glowing city. A caterer rushed over with water, wine, and a platter of small bites. Fletcher had no notion how she had signaled the servitor, but perhaps one of her many kin had made the arrangements.

With a bright smile, Pippa settled into a chair. “A brawl was not how I imagined my soiree would make the societal media.”

It was not common to carry a slate to social events, but inevitably, a few had them. Fletcher could not contain a groan. “For truth?”

She shrugged delicate shoulders. “At least three guests made recordings. And I expect someone will notice that you once again rushed in to protect your fellow Serengeti associates from dishonorable assault.”

“An alert to Serengeti’s Fortuna media management master. She is part of Bright Star and will know how to spin this. I will suggest Euphrates envy of Serengeti’s share in Bright Star since it began with Anvyl complaining about the Bright Star honor bidding.”

Clarice replied, “That will play, but their objective was Thornscore. They may have maligned our seigneurs, but Chrys, Verity, and I were the true targets. You could not see us sitting in the shadows, but Grayse and Anvyl did.”

Clarice lifted her chin. “Euphrates holds a grudge against Thornscore. Bested by a cadre of commoners and a warrior who rejected them in favor of the Leonardo Society.”

Fireballs. Fletcher recalled the history, but it predated Rigel joining Bright Star. “This is about the Fortuna minerals?”

Euphrates had a monopoly on the export of the healing minerals. Except, Clarice had found a loophole in the governor’s license that allowed him to give Thornscore an exclusive license to export the minerals for ornamental purposes. Having a score to settle with Euphrates, and owing Lilian and boon, the governor had been eager to oblige.

Pippa shook her head in mock confusion. “It has been almost two years since Euphrates crossed swords with Serengeti and lost. It seems somehow meager to hold a grudge over something so minor as the handful of minerals we export for our water art.”

Verity said, “It must rankle that Thornscore will have holdings in the Thirteenth System in a few days, while Euphrates cannot even bid until the new year.”

Clarice was more than ready to depart and was relieved when Fletcher claimed his transport for the transit to Serengeti House. The morrow would be challenging, and she could discover no means to escape the box. She had been so angered by the Euphrates trio, and so impressed with Fletcher, that she did not consider the ramifications of the brawl.

Excitement flared in his expression. “The prohibition was for sparring, not defending a Serengeti protégé from dishonorable assault. I assure you, there was nothing accidental about Grayse’s injuries.”

She thought a moment, revisiting her memory of the brawl. “Until I was compelled to deal with Willemina, I saw that you favored your right for strikes.”

“As I did in the part you missed. Although I did use my left for a variation on that handspring that struck you. Seigneur Thorvald was right.” He flexed his left hand. “In true battle, I must use my full capabilities.”

Unmistakable desire warmed his expression. “I was seeking you when I heard Rigel mention Farstar. Before I could join the conversation, it turned to calumny.” He shook his head. “I expected Rigel to defend Bright Star and Serengeti. His backing Chrys was a surprise.”

“You are a good influence on Rigel. He tends to discount those not born warriors, and it is true, many of the Serengeti protégés associated with Bright Star are commoners.” Her smile broadened. “Did you notice Anvyl try to avoid meeting Chrys in a match square?”

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed, and then he nodded. “At the time, I was so enraged, I missed the nuance, but he must have suspected he could not take Chrys in an organized match.”

Clarice nodded, her mind turning over the events. “It does not quite tie together. Pippa played it as drunken misbehavior, but it was too deliberate. I think Anvyl and Grayse wanted the brawl between Pippa’s Euphrates kin and the Thornscore principals. They are hoping for a scandal.”

“Rigel’s quick thinking has circumvented that.” Fletcher frowned. “But they would have known Serengeti media management would react. And I cannot imagine the Euphrates preeminence will be pleased to have his cartel’s defeat by a handful of commoners revisited, even if they do pass it off as an ongoing Serengeti rivalry.”

“Lady Pallas is ruthless in the defense of her family. I thought at the time, Pippa meant that she would be angered at the disruption of Clarice’s soiree. But what if Thornscore was but a pawn, in an intrigue directed at Pippa’s father? Lady Pallas will not take kindly to her kinsmen allying against Seigneur Thule in an internal Euphrates intrigue.”

“He has not been medicates seigneur for very long. In truth, for as much as Pippa was thrilled for her father, she was surprised he was elevated to department head within in three months of inheriting his signet. Even with Lady Pallas’ gift for manipulation and intrigue, it was quite a coup.”

Fletcher’s expression stiffened, some of the post-battle delight fading. “An internal intrigue could explain matters.”

He was not lying to her, but there was something he was not voicing. She thought back to what she knew of Seigneur Thule’s surprise elevation to medicates seigneur. There was something about a boating accident that led to the sudden retirement of the incumbent. Despoilers. The stealth war. “She was a despoiler. The medicates seigneur Pippa’s father replaced.”

She suspected she knew the rest. “The former medicates seigneur—her boating accident and prolonged decline before death? That was Seigneur Trevelyan.”

“She revealed a despoiler nest in Destinytown but otherwise did not add much to our knowledge. The leaders were adept at hiding in the shadows.”

“More likely commerce rivals who wanted a different department head. Seigneur Thule was selected because Seigner Trevelyan knew he was not a despoiler. Not that the Euphrates preeminence could admit Thule Kailani was selected at Matahorn request.”

For all their rivalry, Matahorn and Serengeti were united in eradicating the despoilers and protecting Bright Star. The Euphrates preeminence would have rejected a suggestion from Monsignor Lucius and Serengeti, but he would have been eager to please Monsignor Horatio, the most powerful warrior in the Thirteen Systems.

Fletcher’s smile was grim. “Thule’s rivals probably began intriguing from the first; we happened to be convenient for this one.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Every Thornscore principal is either Serengeti or Bright Star. And with the Farstar contract, we are commerce allies. It is we.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the conviction in his tone and expression. His words were not the hyperbole of charm of seduction, but a warrior’s vow.

Fletcher’s blood sizzled with desire, enhanced by battle endorphins. In a surprising but welcome development, the militia driver had pulled a small travel bag from the transport. Clyde had provided for the possibility that Fletcher would not return this night. Following Clarice, he took in her lavish chamber with a glance, noting that the bed on a dais by the far wall would have a view of the bay beyond the seating arrangement by the windows.

He wanted to peel her out of her frock and spread her across the bed more than he wanted his next breath. The silk knit clung to her elegant curves before swirling out into panels of rose and bronze that fell to her knees. Rather than try to right her hair after the brawl, Clarice had pulled it loose to fall in shimmering curtain down her back, emphasizing her delicate shape. He wanted to trace her spine with his lips and tongue, taste every silken golden inch.

He closed the distance between them, inhaling the jasmine and citrus scent of her hair before nuzzling it aside to feather his lips across her neck. Her delicate shiver sent the sizzling in his blood straight to his groin. “Tomorrow night, if you wish. Anything you wish.”

He slid one foot between hers, pressing his thigh against the sweet globes of her ass. “If it is in my power to grant.”

With slow sensuous movements, she pressed against him, her hands drifting back to find his hips. Her lips nipped his jaw. “Catch me. If you can.”

She spun away, laughter and excitement lighting her countenance as she darted behind a chair. Caught off guard, he simply stared. He had known Clarice to tease, but this playfulness was new. Her laughter faded to uncertainty. With a roar he leapt at her. “Challenge me, will you?”

Clarice had no notion what possessed her to challenge Fletcher, but once the game was on, she did not want it to end too soon. He vaulted a low table, attempting to cut her off. She sprang onto the sofa and then leapt over the back. She felt Fletcher’s fingers graze her shoulder as her feet hit the dais. Tumbling across the bed, she came to the other side.

Fletcher had stopped across the bed. With deliberate sensuality, he swayed from side to side, the movement hypnotic. He shed his tunic, the flutter of silver silk catching the moonlight in the dim chamber. She measured the distance to the foot of the bed. A handspring from the dais would put her by the respite console.

Fletcher was a blur in the corner of her eye when her hands hit the dais. She was in the air. Strong arms caught her, stealing her breath. The bed yielded beneath her. Fletcher’s hard length pressed her into the mattress, his expression triumphant.

Her breath returned and delighted laughter exploded forth. His old charismatic smile flashed and then he joined her laughter, his forehead resting on the mattress.

When their laughter eased, he lifted his head, joy and desire blended in his expression. “Woman, you are enchanting.”

Enchanting. Clarice knew she was considered brilliant. Beautiful. Even enticing. But she was far too logical and prosaic for romantic terms like enchanting. It could have come straight out of one her romance novels. And it was spoken with a sincerity she could not doubt.

“You led me on a merry chase little enchantress.” His teasing expression turned predatory. “To the victor, go the spoils.”

He captured her wrists, pulling them over her head and then transferred both to his left hand. “Remember our agreement. If anything is too much, you need only voice it.”

Dark delight flickered across his expression. His mouth descended to claim hers, his free hand roaming her from breast to thigh and then delving between. Long fingers stroked her cleft, the pressure arousing even through the barrier of knitted silk. Her thighs loosened and parted.

His lips moved from her mouth to her neck where little nips were followed by his laving tongue, the disparate sensations confusing and drugging her senses. With a deft move he flipped her over and pulled her to her knees. One hand cupped her throat, holding as he wished while the other glided down her back, cool air washing over exposed flesh as the frock opened.

Firm lips and a warm tongue traced between her shoulders as an insistent tug peeled the dress down to her hips and left it to pool at her knees. His breath hissed out, a finger sliding inside the edge of her briefs. “You should always wear rose lace.”

Fingers played with the fastener of her bra and then the straps fell free. Fletcher’s lips explored her shoulders, his free hand dragging the band of lace free of her hands. The hand at her throat loosened, long fingers trailing a path from the hollow down her sternum.

She leaned back, letting him take her weight, his thighs strong columns on either side of hers. He cupped a breast, rolling it in his palm, the heat from his hand setting of an answering fire that made both her breasts swell and ache. He flicked the throbbing tip with this thumb and then pinched, the gentle pressure stiffening and elongating the peak.

Teeth scraped the sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands moved to her hips and lifted her forward. “Place your hands on the headboard.”

The metal frame was cool under her palms, a shocking counterpoint to the heat suffusing her. His hands came up and cupped her breasts, then teased them until both were tight and aching, the tips hard points. At the apex of her thighs, her jewel pulsed an insistent staccato, aching for contact.

Fletcher released her breasts, the fingers of one hand fluttering against her midriff, keeping her eager without increasing her climb. Contact ceased and she moaned. His deep chuckle held pleasure and promise. Strong hands cupped her buttocks and roved her hips. A hard knee settled between hers, the silk of his trousers whispering against her thighs. “A little wider, sweetheart.”

She slid her knees open, and Fletcher pushed between them. One hand slid up to cup a breast, the other slid beneath the lace guarding her sex. Clever fingers teased the small patch of silky locks shielding her jewel and dipped to tease and probe. Shocks of pleasure rocked through her, golden sparks filling her vision.

Her ragged breath filled her ears, every sense alight and yearning as Fletcher toyed with her, strumming her passions to an even higher pitch. He released her breast. His hard length rubbed the crease of her ass, and then probed between her thighs. The contact set her channel clenching in desire. “Fletcher.”

His palm flattened above her mound, stilling hips she had not realized were rocking with eagerness. His other hand slid between her thighs, exposing the center of her need. The head of his shaft teased against her opening. She arched, spreading wider, offering everything. Wanting everything.

Penetration came with a hard thrust, filling and stretching her in the most exquisite fashion. With a guttural sound, Fletcher withdrew and thrust again. Fast and hard, pistoning inside her, pushing her higher, her senses exulting in delight until the crescendo sent her careening into ecstasy.