Competitions by Sharon Green Page A

decides to return unexpectedly. Every time that man talks to me, I experience the urge to find a bath house at once.”
    “Slimy is much too kind a description of him,” Delin said with a smile, suddenly feeling considerably better about Kambil. “But we really do need to discuss our next move, and Bron has told me he’s ready to do just that.”
    “Yes, I certainly am,” Bron agreed after glancing at Delin and clearing his throat. “You all know we’ve been dragging our feet deliberately to keep them from becoming suspicious, but the time for that is over. They’ve now
demanded
that we do better, so we’ll have to oblige them. But remember to do it slowly and in spurts, not all at once and immediately. They’ve threatened us into improving, so it ought to please them when we do. Are you going to have a problem with that, Homin?”
    The question was obviously because of Homin’s expression, which showed his agitation barely calmed. The man apparently had something of a problem, and he pushed himself to his feet and went to the tea service before answering.
    “I—normally would have no trouble showing the necessary improvement,” he said, paying attention only to his shaking hands, which were engaged in pouring him tea. “My problem goes beyond the normal, however, and I’m—afraid I’ll need to—speak with our—general troubleshooter.”
    Apparently Homin had had to force himself to ask for help, and Delin found himself distantly pleased. One of his people had need of him, and had had the good sense to speak up rather than ruin the plans.
    “That means you want to speak to
me
,” Delin said, making himself appear flattered. “Certainly, old man, it will be my pleasure to assist you. Let’s step to the other side of the room to keep from disturbing the general conversation.”
    Homin nodded and followed Delin to the far side of the large room, the cup and saucer in the heavy man’s hands clattering faintly as he moved. Delin knew that that was due to nervousness rather than to clumsiness, and turned to the other man with a soothing smile.
    “Now what can I do for you?” he asked gently. “I’m assuming this has something to do with that odd explanation you gave about not being able to practice.”
    “Yes, it does,” Homin admitted at once, but with a quaver in his voice. “I couldn’t tell Lord Rigos, of course, not when I’d been specifically ordered to keep silent around him—”
    “Ordered?” Delin interrupted, now having to fight to keep his tone light and easy. How
dare
some outsider give orders to one of his people? Homin wasn’t much, but he now belonged body and aspect to Delin.
    “Yes, ordered,” Homin confirmed with a sigh, his eyes trying to close again. “My father’s new wife, Elfini. She insists on being in complete charge of the household and everyone in it, and won’t hear of my practicing. She can’t control it, you see, so she simply refuses to allow it. The one time I tried she used one of her whips on me, and it was the next day before I could move my back without fainting from the pain.”
    “I’d heard the rumor about your father’s taste in pleasure, but until now I hadn’t quite believed it,” Delin said after sipping from his own teacup, which he’d carried with him. “Your father is such a strong, uncompromising man in public… But I’ve also encountered the lady Elfini, so there’s no longer any doubt. And she flatly refuses to let you practice?”
    “She’s now going beyond that,” Homin said, visibly fretting all over again. “She took my identification bracelet while I was bathing, and if she and Lord Rigos weren’t enemies I’d probably still be begging for its return. And she means to punish me when I return home, simply because she knows how I loathe and fear it. I’ll never be able to accomplish anything with her doing things like this, so I wondered if you … I mean, would it be possible for you to … speak to her?”
    “Speak to