After a moment Magda realized that she was being addressed, and pushed up the long sleeve of the nightgown she was wearing. “It is healing.”
“But not as it should,” Alida said, her light, cold fingers gently touching the red seam, still puckered and inflamed. “A cut like this should long be closed and sealed, with not even an itch remaining. This still gives you some pain, I can tell–does it not?”
“Yes, a little,” Magda said. She had so little experience with such cuts that she had thought it natural. She saw Peter looking up, in surprise and consternation, at her bare arm and the red seam there, and she pushed her sleeve down to cover it.
Alida said, “Jaelle must have been wounded first, and got most of the poison.”
Rohana sounded anxious. “Can you help it, Alida?”
“Oh certainly. I learned to treat such wounds at Neskaya Tower; it is nothing much. You were Tower-trained in Dalereuth as a girl; can you monitor for me?”
Rohana nodded. “Certainly.”
But Rohana watched, faintly troubled, as Alida uncovered her matrix jewel. She knew she should send the two Terrans away. This, she knew, was one reason why Lorill Hastur had interdicted any serious contact between Terran and Darkovan; he was unwilling they should learn anything about the ancient matrix sciences. Yet, if she should make a point of dismissing Magda and Peter from the room now, she must explain why.
She had told no one here that they were Terrans, but she was sure Gabriel guessed. When he had seen Peter’s almost unbelievable likeness to their son Kyril, and heard that he was the prisoner from Sain Scarp, he must have known; but he did not really want to know, Rohana realized, that she had gone against his wishes again. Because then I would have to tell him, in so many words, that he is not the keeper of my conscience; and even now I do not think Gabriel wants to know that in a way he cannot pretend to ignore.
And the woman, Magda, was Jaelle’s oath-sister and had a right to remain. As for the man-she saw Jaelle clinging to his hand, saw the tenderness in his eyes, and knew what neither of them knew themselves, as yet.
“Put that away. Lady Alida. I will have none of your sorcery,” Jaelle said weakly.
“I must, child. There is poison in the wound and it is spreading to your eye; it can damage your sight. If I do not treat it now . . .”
“I do not care,” said Jaelle in great agitation. “I will not allow-”
Rohana said sternly, “Stop it, Jaelle. You are behaving like a frightened child who will not have a cut bandaged! I had not believed you so cowardly!”
Alida’s voice was kinder. “I know you were afraid of me when you were a child, Jaelle, but I hoped you had outgrown your fear.”
“I am not afraid,” Jaelle said, shaking with anger, “but I will not have you meddling with my mind! Once is enough for a lifetime!”
Suddenly Rohana recalled what Jaelle was talking about. On that single extended visit to Ardais, which she had demanded before allowing Jaelle to take the Amazon’s oath, she had insisted that Jaelle be tested for laran; Melora’s child, and with the flame-colored hair that marked the telepath strain, would surely have one of the Comyn gifts. Jaelle had been frightened and helplessly reluctant, but on this point Rohana would not be moved. Alida had done the testing, and Jaelle had come away white as a corpse and looking deathly ill. It was the only time since her mother’s death that Rohana had ever seen Jaelle in tears. When Rohana had sent her away, a little calmed and comforted, Alida had said:
“Yes, she has laran; I think she is a powerful telepath, but for some reason she is blocking it. I could break her defenses, of course; but whether I could ever put them together again afterward-that is another matter. And since you have allowed her to be fostered among the Amazons, I think she would find life intolerable in a Tower. Let her take her own way.”