She crossed the hallway and was ushered into the Cabinet, large and bright and normally a pleasant room to visit, for she was fond of Emshandar and he of her. She had never seen it without him present, though. For a moment she thought the place was empty.
Then she saw a soldier riffling through an enormous tip of documents that filled the far end of the room. He had no helmet on, which was curious. He turned at the sound of the door closing and of course it was Shandie.
For a moment they just stared at each other. Then he coughed and came forward uncertainly. “You really are as beautiful as I remembered!”
Was that all he could say? Unsure how to answer, she sank into a curtsey instead.
He sighed and raised her. “Ah, my lovely marble queen,” he said. ”I, too, have my armor on, as you can see. I can’t embrace you properly in armor.” He pecked at her cheek uncertainly.
“Welcome back,” she whispered. “Er . . . How did you manage to arrive so unexpectedly?”
“Oh, there are ways.”
“A good journey? Did you have a good trip?”
“It was long, and tiring.”
“I expect so.”
“The child is well?”
“She’s very well, thank you.”
“Ah.” He swallowed a few times. “Your accent’s much better. You don’t sound like Thumble now.”
“Oh. I’m glad.” Gods knew she had worked hard enough at her elocution lessons—why did she not feel happier that she had pleased him?
“I brought you some presents. I brought you pearls from the Sea of Sorrows and the finest Kerithian rubies.”
Rubies? Pearls? What use had she for those? “They sound wonderful. You are very kind.”
“Perdition!” he said. “I forget! I left them with the baggage—they’ll be here in a week or so.”
They stared at each other, and then both looked away. “This Evilish armor—” he muttered. “I could take it off, of course . . . ?”
She looked at him in bewilderment, but he was studying a big, ugly couch.
“If I were Ylo I would,” he mumbled.
Who? She felt lost. What was he talking about?
“There’s an awful lot of people waiting outside,” she said. ”Yes. I expect there are. Well, let’s go out and be sociable, then. Darling.”
Currents turn awry:
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution,
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
— Shakespeare, Hamlet, III, i
EIGHT
Gather ye rosebuds
1
The first rain had come to break the heat, and it drummed loudly on the thatched leaves of the roof, muffling even the nightly frogs’ chorus. It might be just a stray summer storm, for it seemed early, but Thane knew it meant that the next new moon would mark her birthday, when she was supposed to be at the College. The half year her father had promised was almost over.
Even with the rain, the night was hot and sticky. She lay contentedly in Leeb’s arms on a thick, soft couch of reeds. He was asleep and she could Feel the confused eddies of his dreams. Fear and anger and hunger—they didn’t mean anything. Everyone dreamed such things. He was slickly wet, just as she was herself. She could smell his personal scent, made up of woodsmoke, loam, and green things, man and sweat and even the fish he had caught that day—all familiar to her now after so many nights like this, mingled with odors of reeds and the house. She loved it, the smell of love and home and safety.
There had been no signs of the recorders. There had been no signs of anyone—the Leeb Place was a heaven for pixies. She could Feel the presence of other people at Places in the distance, but none of them had come snooping, and next year would be time enough to go visiting. They had seen no one at all since the day they arrived, except for the neighbors upriver, Boosh and Neeth of the Neeth Place. Neeth said no recorders had come by the district in many years.
As Leeb had promised, the old couple had been very happy to have new neighbors at a respectable distance and they had helped a lot. They had freely showered advice and lessons on a hill-country girl who did not know many of the things that grew in the valley. Even Leeb had learned from them about crops he had not met before, like taro and murunga pods.
Boosh was going to have to be more helpful yet, in a few months. She had already been helpful, confirming what Thaile had suspected, advising her.
Tonight, to celebrate the rain, she had told Leeb that he was going to be a father. He had been so happy at the news that she had started to weep, just from the strength of his Feelings. Then one thing had led easily to another. That was why he was sleeping so soundly.
As a Placemaker, he had been as good as his word. He was a wonderful weaver, and he had woven two big rooms of their house already. There was not one drop of rain coming in, either, not one! She could have six or seven rooms if she wanted, he said, and she had laughed and asked what in the world a woman would want so many rooms for. For children, of course, he had said. Most couples never had more than two, but she had already explained that Gifted families often had more than two and then he had begun talking of having dozens.
Easy for him! But he liked babies, he said, and she believed him. He was so gentle and yet so strong. Had any woman in the whole world ever been so much in love?
Leeb had made a coop for the chickens and a stall for the kid. A wonderful fisherman, he was making a boat. He had taught Thaile to swim—sometimes they wore no clothes for days at a time.
She had never eaten so well in her life. She had grown plumper already, even before the baby had started. The woods were packed with things to eat: berries, wild onions, roots, and herbs. Breadfruit trees were as common as frogs; and one big breadfruit tree would feed a family all year round. There were many other trees that gave edible fruit-palms, ebony, nutmeg, mango . . . the list was endless. She had grown some rice and taro and beans. She had gathered wild cotton and started spinning.
She had gourds and a cook pot and a good stone knife. She could think of nothing she might possibly want that she did not have. She listened to the rain and felt safe and secure in the arms of her man.
But the next new moon . . . Would the recorders come for her? Could they find her? Would they punish her parents? Surely even the recorders could not be so cruel as to take her away from the Leeb Place now? A pixie must be born where it was conceived, for that was the way of the people. One day she would clear away the reeds for a while and squat on the earth itself to produce her baby. Her first baby. Right here, in the Leeb Place.
The hunger in Leeb’s dreams was changing to want-to love. She felt his body stir against her. She could almost imagine she saw herself in those Feelings, they were so strong and she was so close. Boosh had said it would be safe for months yet.
Thaile kissed the end of that silly snub nose and Felt her man awaken. He moved damply against her.
She touched her lips to his. Tongue found tongue, his hand slid to her breast, and a thrill ran through her at once. Had any woman ever been so happy?
2
The Great Imperial Bedroom had been designed for the Impress Abnila and Lord Umpily knew some scandalous tales on the subject that were amusing, if not very probable. Of course probability did not ensure accuracy in historical matters, any more than it did in domestic gossip; or vice versa. Lord Umpily was carefully keeping a diary of his own experiences as chief of protocol for the prince imperial. He would never dare to publish it in his lifetime, but future historians would certainly relish some of his stories—and what could be more improbable than what he was witnessing now? This scene—here, today. Whatever would the Impire say if it knew how it was being governed?
And whatever would Abnila say if she could see what had been done to her bedroom now? The great chamber had been turned into a commissariat, or a scriptorium. Its erstwhile elegance was utterly disfigured by a horseshoe of tables around the bed. It reminded Umpily of a cockpit, with the spectators clustered around, laying bets, watching the long tussle between Emshandar and the God of Death enter its final round. The place reeked of candles and sealing wax and too many people.