Rojer gave her credit for that on the way home, with ten braces apiece of avians, rabbits and scurriers, which had the most delicious flesh if you caught them young enough. Rojer had. He relented enough to take an easier if longer route back but he made that seem deliberate, rather than considerate, because that track passed by stands of edible greens and bushes of early plummy-fleshed rindfruits.
They arrived home late afternoon laden down with provender for the next three days – unless they had unexpected guests.
Although the miners’ representatives, Yugin and Mexalgo, had come to collect copies of the tape, they left after the most cursory of visits with profuse thanks. They couldn’t wait to view the tape and see the enemy, they said, and on hearing that, Zara ran from the room, stifling sobs. The miners did not notice, being on their way to the door.
Zara! Easy, sis, Rojer called. I’ll help her, Mother, he added and followed her.
She was in Laria’s old room, having moved out of the one she had shared with her two younger sisters.
Rojer noticed that neither of his `Dinis accompanied him.
No, Rojer, leave it! she said in a voice that was broken by her mental anguish.
Sis, would it help if I told you I thought the Queen looked lonely and sad, as well as beautiful?
But you were there! You watched! And you said nothing?
He entered the room and saw her, tear-streaked face, rebellious expression, facing him in an attitude of defence.
`Aw now, Zara,’ he said tenderly but she held up one hand to restrain him.
`Don’t you dare “aw now, Zara” me,’ and she sniffed back tears.
`I get enough of that from Mother.
She just won’t “see” or “feel” what I’m going through. And if you come out with some male gibberish about the time of month, I swear I’ll lash you!’ Rojer hadn’t any such platitudes in mind and he wasn’t alarmed by her threat though it was one of the first he’d ever heard her make. She was the gentlest of his sisters and usually self-effacing and acquiescent: hardly surprising amid seven other strong sibling personalities. Rojer perched on one edge of her worktop and folded his arms, subtly projecting affection and reassurance.
`And don’t try that either,’ she said, rubbing tears away.
`You know, you look more like Grandmother Rowan than any of us.’ She narrowed her eyes. `Don’t try misdirection either, Rojer Lyon!’ `I’m not, actually,’ he said in a brisker voice, `but I had breakfast with Grandmother just this morning so I can see the resemblance very clearly.
You are more like her than Laria or Morag. You haven’t seen Grandmother in a while but you’d be the last one to see the likeness.
I wonder if Dad would.’ But Zara was not going to be distracted.
`She’d want to kill the Queen, too, wouldn’t she?’ `Grandmother 5
not…’ and Rojer shrugged, `pacific at any time. You know that,’ and he grinned.
He got an ironic shrug from his sister. `But I’m not talking about Grandmother’s reaction to the Queen, only how much you look like her. By the way, there is a group of humans who feel that we should at least make an attempt to understand the Hiver viewpoint.’ `But you don’t think much of them,’ she retorted, angrily defiant, irritably pushing back her own silver wing of hair.
`I didn’t say that and I don’t even project it, sis.
But I did want to tell you that you’re not the only one to have different perceptions. I-‘ And Rojer jabbed a thumb into his breast bone. `-thought she was beautiful, too.’ He couldn’t quite admit that he, too, had felt she was lonely and afraid.
Zara narrowed her eyes. `Half Aurigae City wants her publicly…
murdered… torn apart limb from limb. Did you know that?’ `No, but it doesn’t surprise me, considering the source, and Rojer smiled condescendingly. `Look, sis, I do respect your reactions, your feelings about the Queen. I had them myself…
`But you hadn’t the guts to make them known!’ Zara flashed back at him, her eyes glinting just like Grandmother Rowan’s had but with a different cause.