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To this good Patron who was the Ambassador at Venice the newly-married Rondelet determined to apply for employment; and to Venice he would have gone, leaving his bride behind, had he not been stayed by one of those angels who sometimes walk the earth in women's shape. Jeanne Sandre had an elder sister, Catharine, who had brought her up.
Apparently it was good style in Ch'kara, though, since Hovan's fit the same way. Tarlac's gun wasn't there, probably in storage with his uniform; instead, he'd been given a knife very similar to the one he'd used in the challenge match aboard the Hermnaen. "I gather you borrowed these from a youngling?" "Yes. And Sandre them tailored, you to fit. Now come.
This was what he'd offered his life to achieve, expecting only a death he'd thought would be final. He had brought peace, peace the Traiti could accept with full honor peace that meant life for Ch'kara, for Sandre and the twins, for Daria and the youngling she shared with Steve.
The first one Hovan introduced was Sandre, mother of the twins and the only open-shirted female Tarlac had seen. She had Honor scars identical to Hovan's, which surprised Tarlac for a moment since he knew she couldn't have taken the Ordeal. He decided and later learned he was correct that they must be because she'd borne the twins.
Rondelet got his doctorate in 1537, and next year fell in love with and married a beautiful young girl called Jeanne Sandre, who seems to have been as poor as he. But he had gained, meanwhile, a powerful patron; and the patronage of the great was then as necessary to men of letters as the patronage of the public is now.
"Or a Cor'naya?" "Yes." Thinking back, Tarlac had to admit that all the n'Cor'naya he'd met were individuals he'd trust not to panic, as Hovan had not. "But Speakers and n'Cor'naya aren't exactly average. It's the risk to people like . . . oh, like Sandre and your twins. I don't like what learning about that loss may do to them.
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