VII
ANDREI Subitj, captain in the Royal Navy of Magyarorszag and Hrvatska-he who once was Vanimen, king of Liri-turned from the window out which he had been gazing. This was in Shibenik, on an upper floor of the mayoral palace. When such an officer took special leave from the war and came south, in answer to a message from the zhupan, he could have whatever place he asked for. Day had waned while he and Eyjan held converse. Towers stood dark against deep-blue gloaming, above walls and battle-ments within which links bobbed along streets. Bells pealed a call to vespers. Andrei traced the Cross.
“And thus we know each what has happened to the other,” he sighed. “Yet what do we truly know?” Tall in a gold-broidered kaftan, his body moved across the carpet with more fmnness than his voice. “Why would Tauno not bestir himself to come this short way and greet me?”
Eyjan, who was seated, stared at the hem of her gown. “I can’t tell,” she replied. “Not really. He said there was no use in it, that you simply are no more the father he sought. But he says little to anyone these days, nothing that might reveal his mind.”
“Not even to you?” Andrei asked as he took the chair opposite hers.
“No.” Fists clenced in her lap. “I can but guess that he’s poisoned with bitterness against Christians.” Andrei sat straight. His tone crackled. “Has anybody done ill by you twain?”
“Never. Far from it.” The red head shook, the gray eyes lifted to meet his. “Although we admitted early on we’d been lying to him-for we couldn’t well stick to our deception after our kin recognized us-Ivan did not resent it. Rather, he increased his hospitality, and that in the teeth of his chaplain, who’s scandalized at having two creatures like us beneatq yon roof. Ivan’s actually doing his best to keep our secret from leaving the village, that we may fare back to Denmark without hindrance if we choose.”
“Of course, he hopes to convert you.”
“Of course. But he doesn’t pester us about it, nor let Father
Petar do so.” Eyjan smiled a bit. “I see Father Tomislav more gladly, aye, as often as may be. He’s a darling. Tauno himself can’t slight that man.” Her thought veered. “Something strange is there too. I know not what or why. . . but Tauno is very mild with Tomislav. . . almost the way one might be with somebody who’ll soon die but doesn’t know it. . . .”
“How is his daily life? And yours, for that matter?”
Eyjan shrugged. “As an acknowledged sea-wife, I’m not fast-
bound the way a Croatian woman is. I can swim or range the woods, provided no man sees me. Around mortals, however, I think it best to act the lady. There I pass most of my time learning the language, since Tauno keeps the amulet. Often the maidser-vants and I will sing together; Ivan’s wife joins us now and then, or his son.” She grimaced. “I fear young Luka is getting much too fond of me. Unwillingly would I bring woe on their house.”
“Tauno?”
“How can I tell?” Eyjan said roughly. “He goes off into the
wilderness for days and nights on end. When he returns, he grunts that he’s been hunting, and is barely courteous to folk. I bespoke my idea that he hates the Faith for what it’s done to his people.
Though why he shuns me—“
“Hm.” Andrei cupped chin in palm and gave her a long regard. “Might he have found a sweetheart in some distant hut? I’m sure neither of you can have a lover in Skradin.”
“No,” she clipped forth. “We cannot.”
“And time in a single bed hangs heavy. Ah, I remember. . . .If
he’s not beguiled a mortal girl, well, Faerie beings do haunt these realms-“ In shock, Andrei saw whither his thought was leading him. Again he crossed himself. “Jesus forbid!”
“Why, what harm, if he who is soulless couples with an elf?”
Eyjan gibed.
“I’d not have my son lured beyond halidom. He might die before he’s saved.” Andrei’s look steadied upon her. “You might, my daughter.”