Shield's Lady

descendants of The Serendipity had.
    “The descendants of the First Generation colonists from The Rendezvous,” she continued, “may have lost most of their technology and some of their records in the struggle to survive on Windarra just as your people did, but we didn’t invent a lot of wild tales to fill in the gaps. This is not, however, the time to be arguing over which group of colonists kept the best track of their history.”
    “That much is true,” Lady Avylyn said and then dramatically lowered her voice. “But whether or not you choose to believe our legends, Sariana, please be careful when dealing with them. Especially this particular legend.” She indicated the man on the floor. “There aren’t many Shields. Never were. Their birthrate is very low and the offspring are always male which sometimes makes for some, uh, difficulties…”
    “I don’t see why,” Sariana said with a frown. “Oh, you mean there aren’t any women in their social class except those who marry into it?”
    “Their marriage customs are rather odd,” Lady Avylyn began awkwardly. “You see, they—” She stopped as the other members of the family stared at her. She cleared her throat and waved her fan in a gesture of impatient dismissal. “Never mind,” she went on hurriedly. “It’s rather complicated. Just take our word for it. Shields can be difficult. The last thing one wishes to do is antagonize them.”
    “Shouldn’t you have mentioned that fact when you first told me a Shield might be able to help us get back the prisma cutter?” Sariana retorted.
    “We did tell you that Shields are different,” Jasso reminded her. He sounded resentful and with good reason. When the plan to engage a Shield had first been proposed, Sariana hadn’t paid much attention to warnings of potential difficulties. “We explained they walk their own paths and tend to stay on the outskirts of society. They live on the frontiers for the most part. One doesn’t run into one in town very often. Fortunately.”
    Bryer looked speculatively at the man on the floor. “But occasionally one finds a Shield useful.”
    “Useful as a mercenary,” Sariana clarified dryly. “Let’s all stop snapping at each other. For better or worse, we’ve got our Shield and we managed not to kill him in the process. Barely. We must go forward from here. Our first priority is getting back that prisma cutter, and from everything you have told me, hiring a Shield is our best bet.”
    “I’m not sure he’s going to consider this a valid employment contract,” Jasso said skeptically. “I wonder why he passed out from that tiny drop of hypnotic drug Mara gave him?”
    “Because Shields are different,” Lady Avylyn said firmly. “I told you that.”
    Sariana was amused more than alarmed by the Avylyns’ conviction that the man on the floor was somehow fundamentally different from other people.
    Sariana eyed her captive. He certainly dressed differently than the members of most of the other social classes she had encountered in Serendipity. The truth was, she found his strictly styled, close fitting dark trousers and unadorned long-sleeved shirt something of a relief from all the showy fashions that were popular in the capital city of the western provinces.
    He had on a severely cut waist-length jacket instead of the more popular flowing cape, and his boots and belt were made of untooled leather. There was nothing outrageous or ornate about his attire. No gems set in the heels of his boots or tracings of silver on the collar and cuffs of his shirt.
    And no codpiece, Sariana noted with a flash of humor. She found that fact oddly reassuring.
    The only item of the Shield’s apparel that could be called decorative was the black leather pouch he wore attached to his belt. The pouch itself was made of the practically indestructible hide of the legendary snake cat. Sariana had never actually seen a snake cat, but Luri, the Avylyns’ youngest, had regaled her with hair raising tales of the beasts. Apparently they favored swamplands and could swallow a man in one gulp.
    Sariana had no idea how accurate such tales were, but on the whole she was happy to forego the experience of encountering a live specimen. She wondered if the man on the floor had actually hunted for the leather to be used in his pouch or if he’d bought lt.
    It was the clasp on the leather pouch that constituted the man’s one item of adornment. But that single item was a major