She turned her back on him, wrenching herself free of his hands, and went swiftly into the breakfast room. She was shaking so violently that she had to steady herself for a moment against the doorframe. Her heart was pounding, and the bruises on her upper arms, where he had gripped her, ached and throbbed. Magda was already in her place; Jaelle went and slipped into a seat beside her, nervously smoothing her hair. Magda, instantly aware that something was wrong with her friend, reached out her hand below the table, taking Jaelle’s hand in her own.
“Jaelle, what’s wrong?” she whispered. “You’ve been crying….”
Jaelle clung to her friend’s hand, but she could not control her voice enough to answer. Do all men hate us that way? Can it really be true that all men hate us so much?
Kyril had come into the room behind her; he said, “Father-” with a defiant stare at Jaelle.
“Later, my son,” said Rohana. “Your father is very much occupied.”
And indeed dom Gabriel looked angry and upset, staring furiously at the factor who managed his estate. “No, damn it, man, I’ll not have it!”
“Lord Ardais, a thief is a thief, whether he steals copper coins or *sarm-rmtsl”
“Avarra’s mercy, man,” dom Gabriel said irritably. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that I should hang a hungry man who steals a few bushels of nuts to feed his sons so they can grow up to be my loyal servants?”
“If they steal nuts in one season, dom Gabriel, they will steal the trees themselves in another!”
“Then mark the trees you have ready for felling, and let it be known that any man who touches a marked tree will get a good cudgeling; and turn a blind eye when they help themselves to the downwood. If they cart it away to burn at their hearth-fires, it won’t be there to feed forest fire another year! That last burn cost us half a year’s profit in resins! But no more hangings, hear me? Or you’ll find yourself hanging there beside them!”
The man grumbled, “You might as well paint tip a placard at the edge of your forests, Lord Ardais: Open to every thief in the Hellers, come and help yourselves!”
“Don’t be a fool, Geremy,” the Ardais lord said. “No man can own a forest! My fathers have managed the lumber for centuries, and because they were clever at manufacturing resin and paint, and trading with the Dry Towns for sulfur to make book-paper, we have grown rich from the forests we did not plant! But I grew rich with the aid of the men who live there, and they have a right to feed themselves with the fruit of the trees, and warm their poor homes with the wood from the trees! The Gods hate a greedy man; and when I grow so greedy that I think I own the trees themselves, and the fruits of the trees, and even the men who live among the trees, then it is only a matter of time before these men take the law into their own hands and teach me the lawful measure of a man’s ambition!”
“Yes. But, my Lord-”
Jaelle looked at dom Gabriel and shivered slightly; his face was dark with wrath, and she could see that his hands were trembling. It reminded her, faintly but frighteningly, of what she had seen in Kyril. He shouted at the factor, “Not another word, damn it! If you want to work for a bandit, and grow rich, go ask Rumal di Scarp if he needs a coridom!”
“Well said, Gabriel,” Rohana said softly, reaching over to touch his sleeve. “But calm yourself. No one is arguing with you; we are all, I think, in agreement on that.” She stared at the factor. “Are you not, Geremy?”
“Yes, my Lady, certainly!” the man almost stammered.
Jaelle thought, Why does Rohana always try so hard to placate him? If he shouted like that at my table, I would give him shout for shout-yes, and blow for blow, too!
Magda saw Peter slide into his seat-he had come in while dom Gabriel was talking-and as he met her eyes, she knew what he was thinking. It was an opportunity given few Terrans, to sit at table with one of the Comyn lords and hear him expound his decisions. She knew Peter was making mental notes for a report in Thendara; so in her own way was she. But would she ever deliver it?