Chapter 1
The unconscious man stirred slightly and groaned. He did not open his eyes and therefore was unable to appreciate the flamboyant luxury that surrounded him.
He lay on the polished marble floor of an ornately appointed room. A high, heavily embossed ceiling arched overhead. The golden glow of the vapor lamps filtered through intricately beveled glass fixtures. A long, narrow table of polished black stone dominated the small chamber. The table was curved, forming a semicircle.
Five people sat around the table. Two of them, the older man and woman, were obviously the matriarch and patriarch of the clan. The other two, a handsome young man and an equally attractive young woman, were clearly sister and brother. The distinctive combination of silvery blond hair and night-dark eyes that marked the father also characterized his offspring. The mother was also blond and dark-eyed, although her coloring came from a different set of genes. None of the four could be described as petite. The Avylyns were a tall, well-built clan, the men broad-shouldered and the women full-bodied.
The fifth person present was another young woman. She was quite slender and far more delicately built than the others; she also lacked their regal height, much to her private disgust. There were times when she would have found the sheer presence that being tall and statuesque conveyed very useful. She had, however, found ways to compensate.
Her neatly arranged brown-gold hair and wide, hazel eyes also set her apart. But even if her looks and coloring had not been radically different, her attire would have made it clear she was not a member of the Avylyn Clan.
Sariana Dayne was discreetly dressed in a conservative, dark green outfit that featured a strictly tailored jacket and a simple, flared skirt that ended just above her ankles. The snug little jacket emphasized her slenderness and its crisp, high collar framed her throat. Beneath the hem of the skirt dark stockings and low-heeled slippers of soft leather were visible. She wore no jewelry.
The other two women at the table were wearing modishly cut, low-necked gowns in vivid gemstone hues with billowing sleeves and full skirts draped over large bustles. Their high-heeled slippers were made of heavily embroidered satin and their hair was arranged in towering confections of cascading curls.
The women's jewelry was magnificent. The Avylyns were, after all, a clan of jewelers. Fragile links of gold set with colorful stones were entwined in their hair. Several pairs of earrings vied for space on each pair of earlobes. The Avylyn women had their ears pierced in so many places Sariana had often thought it remarkable that there was any skin left there at all. Their ample bosoms were adorned with wide collars fashioned of gold and silver and two kinds of rare quartz. They had rings on almost every finger.
The men were equally gaudy in appearance. They wore brightly colored doublets, scarlet tights and shirts with enough fabric in the slashed sleeves to set a ship asail. They wore nearly as many jewels as the Avylyn women.
Sariana had noticed lately that Bryer, the handsome eldest son, had adopted the new fashion of wearing a vividly decorated codpiece. He had one on tonight. The truth was, she probably couldn't have failed to notice it if she'd tried. Codpieces were not easily overlooked, especially ones set with semiprecious stones.
The Avylyns had flair, Sariana observed once again with secret amusement. There was not a dull one in the bunch.
The members of the Avylyn Clan tended toward the dramatic in their choice of clothing just as they did in everything else. After a year of living in the household, Sariana was accustomed to her employers' dazzling attire and volatile ways. She had even grown quite fond of them, much to her surprise. They could be exasperating but they were also rather fascinating, just like everything else here in the western provinces.
The man on the floor groaned again, interrupting Sariana's thoughts. One booted foot shifted slightly on the marble.
"Excellent," Sariana said as she looked down at the man sprawled on the floor. "We're in luck. He's not dead." She kept her voice light and cheerful, trying not to show the relief she felt. Never let the client know you were nervous was one of her mottoes. She sent up a silent thank you to whatever unseen forces looked out for business consultants. At least she wasn't going to have to worry about explaining a dead man to the authorities. Her palms were still damp from the anxiety she had been hiding.
"Might be better for all of us if he were dead," Bryer Avylyn said gloomily. "He's going to be very angry when he wakes up."
Sariana glared at the striking scion of the Avylyn Clan. "Don't be ridiculous. What happened was an accident. I'm sure this Shield person, or whatever it is you call him, will understand that when we explain what happened. How could we know that your Aunt Perla's recipe for a mild hypnotic drug would have this reaction on him? It should have done nothing more than put him into a light trance. It was supposed to make him friendly and amenable. It wasn't supposed to make him pass out."
Bryer lifted his head to meet Sariana's eyes. A lock of his brilliantly blond hair fell across his brow. Sariana knew that the charmingly sexy style in which Bryer's hair arranged itself had been precisely calculated by a very fashionable hairdresser. The style highlighted Bryer's dark eyes, making the contrast to his gilded hair that much stronger..
"Sariana, you don't understand," Bryer informed her with deep foreboding. "Shields are not known for their understanding and patience. You don't seem to grasp the fact that this man is potentially very dangerous. He was raised on the frontier. He makes his living fighting the border bandits. He is not going to take kindly to what we have done. I'm telling you we should never have tried this trick. We should never have listened to you in the first place."
Bryer's mother, who was sitting at the other end of the glistening black stone table spoke firmly. "That's enough, Bryer. This was a family decision. We all agreed with Sariana that getting a Shield to help us was our only chance."
Indina Avylyn glanced at her husband who sat at the opposite end of the semicircular table. "Isn't that right, Jasso? You yourself said it. We're all in this together. We had no choice. We must go through with this wild plan for the sake of the Clan of Avyiyn."
Sariana couldn't help but admire the stirring quality Lady Avylyn had infused into those last words. Lady Avylyn had descended from a clan of dramatists. Even though she had married into a jewelsmith clan, she had never quite abandoned her origins.
Lord Jasso Avylyn shook his graying blond head uncertainly as he stared down at the man sprawled on the floor. "I fear we have no choice now but to go forward with Sariana's plan. We can only hope this Shield doesn't wake up in such a towering rage that he decides to kill us all before he even listens to our proposal."
