Shield's Lady

colors and shades of light that had no names.
    “What about your back?” Gryph asked as he opened the front door for her and guided her out onto the street. “Any aches? The medic warned me you might have some discomfort there.”
    “If I do you’ll be the first to know,” Sariana said with a teasing grin. “Just as you were the first to know when I started having morning sickness.”
    He winced. “Don’t remind me. At least we’re long past the morning sickness stage.”
    Sariana chuckled, remembering that unpleasant string of days just after she had realized she was pregnant. She had been miserable and on a few occasions she had been so ill she had unconsciously projected the queasiness to Gryph, who had borne it stoically. Sariana smiled at the memory and patted her tummy. “Junior is doing just fine, thank you. And so am I.”
    Gryph shook his head as he steered her toward a neighborhood cafe. There was still some snow on the ground, but not on the sidewalks. Last year one of the construction clans had developed a new device for keeping the pathways clear. The town council had adopted it at once. One of the eastern clans was negotiating to buy the invention.
    “You’ve got to start taking it easy, Sariana. You’ve been working much too hard these past few months. I can see I’m going to have to be firmer with you. There will be plenty of time after the boy is born for you to implement your grand plans and schemes.”
    “It’s just that they’re all coming along so nicely and I’m so excited by them.”
    Gryph’s mouth curved wryly. “You’ve turned the whole Shield class upside down. Not to mention what that process has done to the rest of the western classes.”
    “The wonderful thing about working with westerners is that they’re so adaptable,” Sariana said with satisfaction.
    When she had made it known that the Shield class had recently discovered a sizable cache of prisma and would be putting it on the market in controlled amounts, the representatives of virtually all the jewelers’ clans had shown up on her doorstep the following day. The Avylyns had, of course, been first in line.
    Since then, Sariana had been systematically investing the profits on behalf of the entire Shield class. The members of the class had been highly skeptical about turning their business affairs over to a woman, and an easterner at that. No one remembered any Shield ever having done any sophisticated investing. Selling prisma had always been a simple, straightforward process, rather like killing bandits.
    But the Shields had paid attention to Sariana. Her position as Gryph’s wife guaranteed her a hearing and she had found plenty of support among the other wives. Most of them remembered well the pleasures of town living. Even the most devoted among them could see the advantages of increased contact with the more sophisticated world they had left behind. The wives were also very open to the notion of providing more career options for their sons than their husbands had had. Women married to warriors tended to worry a lot.
    When Gryph and Sariana reached the cafe they hurried into the cherry warmth. The proprietor recognized them and greeted them enthusiastically.
    “This way, my lord and lady. I have your usual table waiting. A bit chilly today, isn’t it?”
    “It is,” Gryph agreed. “My wife will have some of the kalala fish stew, Myrig. The medic says it’s very good for pregnant ladies. I’ll have my usual.”
    Sariana, who had been thinking of having a salad and baked fish for a change, wrinkled her nose but made no protest. When it came to having babies, Gryph had decided he was an authority.
    “How’s business?” Sariana asked cheerfully as the cafe proprietor scurried off to place the orders with his cook.
    Gryph lounged back in his suspended chair and smiled in satisfaction. “Business is booming, as you well know. It looks like I’ll be hiring a couple more men next week.”
    “I told you there was a market for an agency specializing in private investigative services, security guards and escorts for people who need to travel to the frontier towns.”
    Gryph chuckled. “You were right.”
    “This kind of work is the perfect transition craft for a Shield. It allows him and his clan to live in town if he wishes. His sons can go to school with the children of other classes and learn to move comfortably in society. When the time comes, those same sons will have a much broader range of