“And your husband? What will he say to this?”
“He is not my husband in law; we parted more than a year ago. Certainly he is not the keeper of my conscience.”
“I thought-” Rohana stopped. Like all telepaths, she had a horror of seeming to intrude in any personal matter. But it had seemed to her, when she met Magda in the Trade City, that the Terran woman was wholly committed to her former lover; and she had had misgivings when she saw Magda in Amazon garb. It had seemed to her that in spite of the spirit and strength she had admired, Magda was all too feminine for the part she must play. It had seemed to her that Magda was much like herself, committed to taking a man’s part for a woman’s reasons.
She felt completely at a loss; and that was a new sensation for Rohana. It also roused questions she thought she had settled, completely and without any doubts, years ago. She was glad to put her self-questioning aside when Magda asked, “Is it right for Jaelle to sleep so much? Is she worse than I feared?”
“I do not know: Alida says that neither wound is healing as it should. She will know more today.”
“It is my fault,” Magda said, looking down at Jaelle with dread. Asleep or unconscious again? “She exhausted herself trying to help us.”
Rohana’s hands closed very lightly over hers. Magda did not yet know enough of the telepath caste to know how very rare a gesture it was, or what trust it indicated. “My dear child, don’t blame yourself. Since Kindra died, there has been no one, no one at all who could make Jaelle do anything she did not want to do, or prevent her from doing her own will; so whatever she did was freely done.” She looked down at Jaelle with a detached, sad tenderness. She said, and Magda felt that Rohana was not really speaking to her at all, “In many ways she is dearer to me than my own daughter. Yet I have known for many years that I must let her take her own way.”
She turned to go. “Domna Alida will see her this morning; she is Tower-trained, and has great skill in such matters.” She went away.
Shortly after, Peter came through the connecting door. “How is Jaelle?” he asked, in a low, troubled voice.
Magda repeated what Rohana had said, and he shook his head, dismayed. “I hate to think she would put herself in such danger for us,” he said. “But listen to me, Magda; we have to leave here, as soon as we can. You know we can’t stay here for midwinter, as Lady Rohana expects, when there might be someone here who recognizes us!”
“Rohana won’t tell.”
“Perhaps not. But among the household there are two or three men from Caer Donn who may recognize me…. remember me from the days when Terrans and mountain men could mingle freely. If they do . . .”
Magda was sympathetic, but for the moment another concern seemed more important. She said, “I cannot go without Jaelle’s leave; perhaps I cannot go at all. Certainly I would not go while she is ill and needs me.” She flung at him, in sudden rage, “Does an oath mean nothing to you?”
“Not one wrested from you by force,” Peter said, “and in any case you had no right to give it. I know you were forced into it, but still-”
It was her own reasoning, and it made her angrier than ever, as he went on, persuasively, “I know you have always had a great love for pretending yourself Darkovan, and a pride in your skill at it. But there is a time to forget all that. Your first loyalty is to the Empire-do I have to remind you of that?”
He had taken her hands in his; she wrenched them away. “Then say I chose! I feel I can serve best this way, but if it comes to choice . . .!” She was trembling all over. He said, trying to conciliate, “I didn’t realize you felt like that; you know I would never interfere in a matter of conscience, Mag. But why does this girl mean so much to you? It’s not like you to have this kind of-this kind of emotional attitude over another woman. It’s not quite-” He hesitated, unwilling to say it, and Magda, guessing what he refused to say, was angry again.